But Von Salzinger had no comment to offer. They stood gazing for some moments at the stern-faced presentation of the marshal. Then quite suddenly an iron grip took hold of the spy's muscular upper arm.
Von Salzinger was pointing at a lesser portrait. It was one among several comprising the faces of well-known parliamentarians.
"That man! Quick!" There was excitement in his voice, and a mild pink had leapt up into his sallow cheeks.
Stryj was startled, but displayed no emotion.
"The name is underneath," he said, pointing. "He is a new member of the Cabinet. Ruxton Farlow."
"Donner! I've found him. Quick! We take a taxi." Then Von Salzinger laughed, all his earlier buoyancy returned. "You are right, my Johann. I am too military to walk in London. But the walk has done me good—much good."
A moment later they were in a taxi speeding on their way towards Von Salzinger's hotel.
"What is the—distraction?" enquired Stryj, as the cab swung sharply out of Baker Street. His calmness of manner was in marked contrast to that of his companion, who was still breathing heavily under his emotion. He understood now that a matter, an important mission, was on hand, and every faculty was alert to miss nothing of any detail of it, even the mood of his old friend.
"Distraction?" Von Salzinger laughed. "Yes, it is distraction. But distraction can mean another emotion than pleasure. Hey?"
"Yes." Stryj nodded.