“I have dealt with all the rest, sir. That letter from Brussels seems to be rather important.”
A frown appeared on Gaunt’s face as he read.
“There is no end to the sickly sentimentality of the English. Why can’t they mind their own business and leave the Congo to work out its own salvation?” he said irritably.
“I don’t think that this will make much difference, sir. It’s all talk, and none of the Powers dare make any practical move. It’s England’s jealousy of Germany, and vice versa, that ties their hands. But are things really so bad as people make out?”
“Do you mean—are the niggers compelled to work? If so, the answer is—yes, and the means used to make them are severe. But then, severity is necessary.”
“But the cruelty and torture. I think——”
“Then don’t think; but if you must, pray keep your thoughts to yourself. I will answer this letter. About the Amanti Mine—has any cable been published yet?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. What time is the appointment with Weiss and his crowd?”
“Eleven o’clock, sir.”