She felt that Von Salzinger was a greater blunderer than she had hoped. She knew he had blundered twice. He had blundered in visiting her at all. He had betrayed his whole purpose as surely as though he had told her all the details of his plans.
But with her satisfaction was a deep element of fear—personal fear. But she knew it was a fear—a weakness—that must not be encouraged. If it mastered her she would be left powerless to carry through the part she felt she had yet to play. So she resolutely thrust it from her. Meanwhile, her first duty must be to communicate with her father, and that—at once.
CHAPTER XVI
ENEMY MOVEMENTS
Busy days crowded upon Ruxton Farlow. The house in Smith Square only saw him at night-time, or at the political breakfasts which had become so great a fashion. The affairs of his portfolio moved automatically with but very little personal attention from him, and so he was left free to prosecute his own more secret plans, almost without interruption.
Apart from the affairs at the great Dorby works, his chief effort was a campaign of proselytism amongst the few of great position in the nation's affairs whose conviction and prejudice must be overborne. And no one knew better than he the meaning of such an undertaking in Britain.
For once, perhaps for the first time in the history of Great Britain, such an effort had been made possible through the reaction from ineptitude to the splendid unity and enthusiasm of the great National Party, of which he was a member. He had struck, at once, before the simmering down to conflict of influences had set in, and his decision and judgment had not been without their reward.
So his hours were spent in close communion with such men as Sir Meeston Harborough and the Marquis of Lordburgh; Sir Joseph Caistor and a few others who headed the party. Breakfasts and luncheons were his battle-fields. But week-ends for dilettante golf at Dorby Towers, which frequently developed into visits to the great yards at Dorby itself, were no mean factors in the success of his efforts.
It was from a luncheon in Downing Street that he emerged one afternoon on foot into the great official thoroughfare of Whitehall. It had been a very small but very successful function from his point of view. It had followed upon a week-end at Dorby Towers, at which the President of the Board of Admiralty, Sir Reginald Steele, had given his final verdict upon the new constructions in process at the Dorby yards. It had been more than favorable. It had very nearly approached enthusiasm. And in its expression Sir Reginald had swept away the final doubts of both the Prime Minister and the Foreign Secretary.