When a man goes out
on that sort of a job, he burns his boats. And Jesson isn't the first
who has turned eastwards, during the last few months. I heard only
yesterday that France has lost three of her best men in China--one who
went as a missionary and two as merchants. They've just disappeared
without a word of explanation."
The telephone extension bell rang. Nigel walked over to the sideboard
and took down the receiver.
"Is that Lord Dorminster?" a man's voice asked.
"Speaking," Nigel replied.
"I am David Franklin, private secretary to Mr. Mervin Brown," the voice
continued. "Mr. Mervin Brown would be exceedingly obliged if you would
come round to Downing Street to see him at once."
"I will be there in ten minutes," Nigel promised.
He laid down the receiver and turned to Karschoff.
"The Prime Minister," he explained.
"What does he want you for?"
"I think," Nigel replied, "that the trouble cloud is about to burst."
CHAPTER XXVII
Mr. Mervin Brown on this occasion did not beat about the bush. His old
air of confident, almost smug self-satisfaction, had vanished. He
received Nigel with a new deference in his manner, without any further
sign of that good-natured tolerance accorded by a busy man to a kindly
crank.
"Lord Dorminster," he began, "I have sent for you to renew a
conversation we had some little time since. I will be quite frank with
you. Certain circumstances have come to my notice which lead me to
believe that there may be more truth in some of the arguments you
brought forward than I was willing at the time to believe.
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