“But tell me more of this mention of myself in the confidential correspondence of our enemies,” Dudley urged. “What you have told me has aroused my curiosity.”
“I have told you all that there is to tell at this stage,” Cator replied. “It is most unfortunate that you can give me absolutely no information regarding this man; but I suppose I must seek for it elsewhere. He must be found and questioned, for the allegations are extremely grave, and the situation the most critical I have known in all my diplomatic career.”
“What are the allegations? I thought I understood you that there were only vague hints?” exclaimed Chisholm in suspicion.
“In some letters the hints are vague, but in one there is a distinct and serious charge.”
“Of what?”
“Of a certain matter which, together with the name of the Ministry from which the document was secured, must remain for the present a secret.”
“If the crisis is so very serious I think I, as Parliamentary Under-Secretary, have a right to know,” protested Dudley.
“No. I much regret my inability to reply to your questions, Mr Chisholm,” his visitor answered. “It is, moreover, not my habit to make any statement until an inquiry is concluded, and not even then if the chief imposes silence upon me, as he has done in the present case. Remember that I am in the public service, just as you are. All that has passed between us to-night has passed in the strictest confidence. Any communication made by the chief through you in the House will, in the nation’s interest, be of a kind to mislead and mystify our enemies.”
“But the mention of my own name in these copied letters!” observed the Under-Secretary. “What you have told has only whetted my appetite for further information. I really can’t understand it.”
“No, nor can I,” replied Archibald Cator frankly.