"But Sir George Frinton!" I exclaimed. "Why, I know the old boy; I have a standing invitation to go and look him up." And then, without waiting for any questions, I described to them in a few words how the Home Secretary and I had travelled together from Exeter to London, and the favourable impression I had apparently made.
Both Lammersfield and Latimer were vastly amused—the former lying back in his chair and laughing softly to himself in undisguised merriment.
"How perfectly delightful!" he observed. "Poor old Frinton has his merits, but—"
The libel he was about to utter on his distinguished colleague was suddenly cut short by a knock at the door; and, in answer to his summons, the butler-looking person entered and announced that Sir George Frinton and Mr. Casement were waiting for an audience.
"Show them up at once," said his lordship gravely; and then turning to
Latimer as the man left the room he added, with a reflective smile:
"I should never have believed that the Foreign Office could be so
entertaining."
CHAPTER XXV
A LITTLE FAMILY PARTY
The moment that Sir George Frinton reached the threshold, one could see that he was seriously perturbed. He entered the room in an energetic, fussy sort of manner, and came bustling across to Lord Lammersfield, who had risen from the table to meet him. He was followed by a grey-haired, middle-aged man, who strolled in quietly, looked across at Latimer, and then threw a sharp penetrating glance at Tommy and me.
It was Lammersfield who spoke first. "I was sorry to bother you, Frinton," he said pleasantly, "but the matter has so much to do with your department I thought you ought to be present."
Sir George waved away the apology. "You were perfectly right, Lord
Lammersfield—perfectly right. I should have come over in any case. It
is an astounding story. I have been amazed—positively amazed—at Mr.
Casement's revelations. Can it be possible there is no mistake?"