“Quite right, my dear fellow, and you should do the same. With this concession your fortune is made. You will have a situation with a salary of ten thousand guilders.” And with a cheerful “Good-night,” Prigson departed, while Van Arlen went up to his room.
It was many hours before he rose from his chair. The sun was shining in at the window, but he had no inclination to sleep; he had been absorbed in the documents. He read from beginning to end, thought for a while, folded them up, and muttered—
“Heaven preserve me from it!”
Thoughtfully he went to his office that morning. He could find no solution to the Prigson question, and there was nothing to help him.
He was summoned to the Minister’s presence, and found him extraordinarily amiable—a bad sign.
“Sit down, Mr Van Arlen, sit down,” said His Excellency. Van Arlen obeyed.
“Mr Van Arlen—it is possible I may be mistaken—but it seems to me as if, just lately, you had shown—passez-moi le mot—less zeal for business than I formerly thought was the case with you.”
“Your Excellency, I was not aware that I had felt less zeal for my duties than at any other time.”
“Is there anything worrying you? Your health?”
“It is excellent, thank you.”