He put aside all thought of the inquiry upon which he had been engaged. His sole thought was for the safety of his child.
Meanwhile Jim Jannaway and Sir Felix Challas were still in deep consultation in the privacy of that quiet, sombre study in Berkeley Square.
“Erich left for Paris by the nine o’clock service this morning,” Jim was saying. “He wants to consult some early manuscript in the National Library, he says.”
“He’s a decidedly clever old fossil,” declared the Baronet, knocking the ash off his cigar, “and I’m convinced he’s on the right track. If we can only keep these other people off, mislead them, or put them on a false scent, we shall win.”
“Erich has done that already,” laughed the other. “He’s been down to Oxford and pretended to study certain manuscripts, knowing well that Griffin’s researches must lead him there. By putting Griffin on a false scent he’s simply tangling him up. Oh! yes, I agree, Erich Haupt is a wary old bird.”
“Then he is now making investigations in various quarters with the sole object of misleading Griffin, eh?” laughed Sir Felix. “Really, it’s quite comical.”
“Yes, and he lets drop just sufficient information to excite the curiosity of the officiate of the various libraries and place them on the qui vive. He does that, so that they shall inform Griffin.”
“Excellent!” declared the Baronet. “As soon as he returns from Paris I must see him. I wonder if the secret record really does exist? If it does, then, by Jove! I’ll hold the key to the whole Jewish religion. But one thing is quite evident, my dear Jim, we must crush out all this opposition with a firm, relentless hand. You understand?”
“I quite follow,” remarked the great financier’s unscrupulous “cat’s-paw.”
And they continued the discussion of the present rather insecure situation.