War-time Silhouettes | Page 9

specially requested by the chairman.
A question had been raised at the previous sitting by one of the Labour
Members who had desired to hear certain evidence, but the witness had
suddenly left the country. The Labour Members had withdrawn to
discuss the matter privately, and on their return showed that their
suspicions had been aroused. On a motion by the chairman the meeting
had been adjourned for four days.
All Sir Matthew's resourcefulness had been needed to avert for the time
further discussion. Before the next meeting he and the minister
involved would get together and discover a means of putting
inconvenient questioners off the scent.
The committee took their seats. The chairman now spoke in his
smoothest tone, his manner was genial and urbane. He smiled towards

Mr. Small, the recalcitrant committee-man, as he glanced at the notes
under his hand prepared by Tarleton.
"Gentlemen, at the last meeting my friend Mr. Small took exception to
the fact that a certain witness had--er--left the country--er--before we
had an opportunity of examining him. I have to inform you--er--er--that
certain facts have come to light regarding this witness
which--er--preclude our going any further into the matter. The fact is,
gentlemen"--Sir Matthew; lowered his voice significantly--"he is a
particular friend of the--er--er--diplomatic representative of a friendly
Power, and I think you will agree with me that in the circumstances we
had better drop any further discussion of this subject and direct the
précis-writer to expunge the report of such part of our proceedings as
relate to it from our minutes."
To Sir Matthew's surprise no dissentient voice was raised. The
resolution was agreed to unanimously, and once more he congratulated
himself on the skill with which he had disposed of an awkward
dilemma.
"And now, gentlemen, we will call the next witness. Mr. Tarleton, will
you kindly--"
"One moment please, Sir Matthew."
The interruption was made in a very soft voice which almost lisped the
words. They came from the immediate right of the chairman, who
turned with surprise toward the speaker, Lord Milford, who until this
moment had never opened his mouth.
"I have to propose," continued the gentle voice, "that we call before us,
without delay, Mr. Maurice Blum, of the firm of Blum & Co.,
Threadneedle Street."
Sir Matthew gasped and turned deadly pale. For an instant he felt as
though he would collapse, then, summoning all his will, he fought back
the emotion which was almost choking him. By a supreme effort he
partially regained his self-possession and managed to assume an
ordinary expression. With one rapid and comprehensive glance he took
in the faces of Lord Milford and the committee, and with an immense
relief told himself that they were one and all ignorant of what the
proposal signified to him.
Where had Milford obtained his information? How much did he know?
While these thoughts flashed through his brain the soft voice lisped

on--
"Certain evidence has reached me which points to Mr. Blum's having
interests in Sweden of a character that immediately, concerns our
investigations. The firm are large holders of shares in a smelting
concern called the Swedenborg Coal and Iron Smelting Company, and
there is also a probability that Messrs. Blum's interests extend in a
direction which, though I am not suggesting disloyalty or illegality,
urgently necessitates inquiry."
Lord Milford sat down. His expression was solemn; it was evident that
he was rather pleased at finding himself for once in the unusual
position of having something to say and saying it. There was a buzz of
whispered conversation round the table, then a sudden hush--the
chairman was addressing the meeting.
For a moment Sir Matthew paused. Once more his eyes took in the
room. Where was the enemy? Just behind him, in his usual place, sat
Tarleton at his table covered with papers. The secretary's face was
white and drawn; he was twisting his small moustache nervously; his
eyes were fixed on the chairman with a half-frightened expression.
Once more Sir Matthew's eyes scanned the faces. Where was the
enemy? And now, at the opposite end of the table, he noticed, for the
first time, a figure almost concealed behind the stout form of Mr. Small.
It was Klein. The two men's eyes met. It was only for a fraction of a
moment, but it was long enough. In the concentrated gaze of the
Alsatian there was neither hatred nor vindictiveness, but only
determination. The two wills were in conflict, and this time Sir
Matthew knew he had met his master. In that instant he made up his
mind.
"Gentlemen"--his voice was calm, his bearing unruffled; the old habit
was as strong as ever, he drew down his cuffs and leaned easily on the
table, spreading out his fingers--"I have a very short personal statement