“Ask if Lord Maybury is in town,” he said hoarsely, suddenly rousing himself.
Again the instrument clicked, and a few moments later the telegraphist, turning to the Foreign Minister, said,—
“The Premier is in town, your Lordship.”
The Earl glanced at his watch a few seconds in silence, then exclaimed,—
“Tell Gaysford to inform Lord Maybury at once of the contents of this last dispatch from St Petersburg, and say that I will meet the Premier at 5:30 at the Foreign Office.” The telegraphist touched the key, and in a few moments the Minister’s orders were obeyed. Then, taking a sheet of note-paper and a pencil, he wrote in a private cipher a telegram, which he addressed to Her Majesty at Osborne. This, too, the clerk dispatched at once over the wire, followed by urgent messages to members of the Cabinet Council and to Lord Kingsbury, Commander-in-Chief of the British Army, asking them to meet informally at six o’clock that evening at the Foreign Office.
When all these messages had been transmitted with a rapidity that was astonishing, the telegraphist turned in his chair and asked,—
“Anything more, your lordship?”
“Nothing for the present,” he answered. “Leave us.” Then, when he had gone, the Earl rose slowly, and with bent head, and hands clasped behind his back, he strode up and down the library in silent contemplation. Suddenly he halted before me where I stood, and abruptly asked,—
“What did you say was the name of that friend who lunched with you yesterday?”
“Ogle,” I answered. “Dudley Ogle.”