The Pauper of Park Lane Part 54

"Well, Mr Statham," he said, "I may as well tell you at once that I am here to seek your kind a.s.sistance and help in a purely personal matter-- a matter which closely concerns my own happiness."

Statham p.r.i.c.ked up his ears. He knew what was coming. Marion Rolfe had told him of her visit there.

"Well?" he asked coldly, in a changed manner.

"You possibly are unaware that I am engaged to be married to Marion Rolfe, the sister of your secretary, a young lady in whom you were kind enough to take an interest am obtain for her a situation at Cunnington's."

The old man nodded, his countenance sphinx-like.

"The lady in question has been dismissed by Mr Cunnington at a moment's notice, and he refuses to tell me the reason of his very remarkable action. I want you to be good enough to obtain a response for me."

"And where is the young lady?" asked the wary Statham.

"n.o.body knows. She would leave no address."

"Then you are unaware of her whereabouts?"

"She has disappeared."

"Extraordinary!" the old fellow remarked, reflecting deeply for a moment.

"Yes. I cannot imagine why, in the circ.u.mstances, she has not written to me," Max declared, the expression upon his face betraying his deep distress.

"It is certainly somewhat strange," the old man agreed. "Girls at Cunnington's are not often discharged in that manner. Cunnington himself is always most lenient. Have you seen him?"

"Yes; and he absolutely refuses any information."

"In that case, Mr Barclay, I don't see very well how I can a.s.sist you.

The management and organisation of the concern are left to him, as managing director. I really cannot interfere."

"But was it not through you that Marion, without previous experience or apprenticeship, was engaged there?"

"Yes; I have some recollection of sending a line of recommendation to Cunnington," was the millionaire's response. "But, of course, my interest ended there. My secretary asked me to write the note, and I did so."

"Then you really cannot obtain for me the information I desire?"

"But why are you so inquisitive--eh?" snapped the old man. "Surely the lady will tell you the reason of her dismissal!"

"I don't know where she is."

"A fact which is--well--rather curious--shall we designate it?" the old man remarked meaningly.

"You mean to imply that her instant dismissal has cast a slur upon her character, and that she fears to meet me lest she be compelled to tell me the truth?" he said slowly as the suggestion dawned upon him. "Ah!

I see. You refuse to help me, Mr Statham, because--because I love her."

And his face became pale, hard-set, and determined.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

FRIEND OR FOE?

The two men were silent for some moments. Statham was watching his visitor's face. To him it was, at least, satisfactory to know that Marion had disappeared, fearing to let her lover know the reason of her sudden dismissal lest he should misjudge her.

Truth to tell, he had antic.i.p.ated that she would have gone straight to Barclay and told him the truth. Within himself he acknowledged that he had played the poor girl a scoundrelly trick, but consoled himself with the thought that when a man's life was at stake, as his was, any mode of escape became justifiable.

At last the old man stirred in his chair, and, turning to Max, said:

"Please understand plainly it is not because I refuse to help you, but because it is not within my province to dictate to Cunnington replies regarding his a.s.sistants."

"But you hold a controlling interest in the firm," declared the other.

"That may be so, but I have nothing to do with the details of organisation," he replied. "No, Mr Barclay, let us end this matter with an expression of my regret at being unable to a.s.sist you. Perhaps, however, I may be able to do so in another direction."

"In another direction!" he echoed. "How?"

"In a small matter of business."

Max Barclay was both surprised and interested. He knew quite well that Statham could if he wished, give him previous knowledge that would enable him to make a considerable coup. Ignorance of Marion's visit to the old man or the cause of her dismissal allowed him to regard the millionaire with feelings of friendliness, and to reflect that, after all, he had no power to dictate to Cunnington.

"You know, Mr Barclay," he said, "I frequently obtain confidential knowledge of what is transpiring in the world of finance. The other day it came to my ears, through a source it is unnecessary to mention, that the Adriatic railway concession has been placed before you."

Max opened his eyes. He believed that not a soul except the man who had joined him in partnership was aware of this. The information must have come from Constantinople, he thought.

"That is true," he admitted.

"A big thing!" remarked the old man in his croaking voice. "A very big thing indeed--means prosperity to the Balkan countries. But pardon me if I ask one or two questions. Do not think I have any intention of going behind your back, or attempting to upset your plans. I merely ask for information, because, as perhaps you know, there is but one man in London who could float such a thing, and it is myself."

"I know, Mr Statham, that we shall be compelled to come to you when we have the concession all in order."

"You will," he said with a smile. "But can you, without injury to yourself, tell me who is your a.s.sociate in this business?"

"A Frenchman--Mr Jean Adam, of Constantinople." Statham's face never moved a muscle. Of this he was already quite well aware.

"An old friend of yours, I suppose?"

"Not--not exactly an old friend. I met him for the first time about a month or so ago," responded Max.

"And what do you know of him?"

"Nothing much except that I believe him to be a man of the highest integrity and the possessor of many friends interested in high finance."

"Oh! and what causes you to believe that?"

"Well, we first met in Paris, where, having mooted the idea of a partnership, he introduced me to several well-known people, among them Baron Tellier, who arranged the match monopoly of Turkey, and Herr Hengelmann, of Frankfort, whom, no doubt, you know as the concessionaire of the German railway from the Bosphorus to Bagdad."

The old man gave vent to a dissatisfied grant.

"Both men stand very high in the financial world, do they not?" Max asked.