The Profiteers Part 26

"'I, John Wingate--all my shares in the Universal Steamship Company, and accept herewith as a deposit.' There, Mr. Wingate, I think you will find that correct. Phipps shall write you a cheque Immediately."

He touched the bell. Phipps entered almost at the same moment.

"I am pleased to tell you," Dredlinton announced, "that I have induced Mr. Wingate to see reason. He will sell the shares."

"My congratulations!" Phipps ventured, with a broad smile. "Mr. Wingate has made a most wise and acceptable decision."

"Will you make out a cheque for ten thousand pounds as a deposit?"

Dredlinton continued. "Mr. Wingate will then sign the agreement I have drawn up on the lines of the memorandum you left on the desk."

"With pleasure," was the brisk reply.

Wingate took up a pen, glanced through the agreement, and was on the point of signing his name when a startled exclamation from the man by his side caused him to glance up. The door had been opened. Harrison was standing there, looking a little worried. His tone was almost apologetic.

"The Countess of Dredlinton," he announced.

The arrival of Josephine affected very differently the three men, to whom her coming was equally surprising. Her husband, after an exclamation which savoured of profanity, stared at her with a doubtful and malicious frown upon his forehead. With Wingate she exchanged one swift glance of mutual understanding. Phipps, after his first start of surprise, welcomed her with the utmost respect and cordiality.

"My dear Lady Dredlinton," he declared, "this is charming of you! I had really given up hoping that you would ever honour us with your presence."

"You can chuck all that, Phipps," Dredlinton interrupted curtly. "My wife hasn't come here to bandy civilities. What do you want, madam?" he demanded, moving a step nearer to her.

She held a slip of paper in her hand and unfolded it before their eyes.

"My husband," she said, "has justly surmised that I have not come here in any spirit of friendliness, I have come to let Mr. Wingate know the contents of this cable, which arrived soon after my husband left the house this morning. The message was in code, but, as Mr. Wingate's name appeared, I have taken the trouble to transcribe it."

"That's more than you could do, my lady," Dredlinton snarled.

"I can a.s.sure you that you are mistaken," was the calm reply. "You forget that you were not quite yourself last night, and that you left the B. & I. code book on the study table. Please listen, Mr. Wingate."

All the apparent good humour had faded from Phipps' face. He struck the table with his fist.

"Dredlinton," he insisted, "you must use your authority. That message is a private one. It must not be read."

Wingate moved to Josephine's side.

"Must not?" he repeated under his breath.

"It is a private message from a correspondent in New York, who is a personal friend of Lord Dredlinton's," Phipps declared. "It is of no concern to any one except ourselves. Dredlinton, you must make your wife understand--"

"Understand?" Dredlinton broke in. "Give me that message, madam."

He s.n.a.t.c.hed at it. Wingate leaned over and swung him on one side. For a single moment Phipps, too, seemed about to attempt force. Then, with an ugly little laugh, he recovered himself.

"My dear Lady Dredlinton, let me reason with you," he begged. "On this occasion Mr. Wingate is in opposition to our interests, your husband's and mine. You cannot--"

"Let Lady Dredlinton read the cable," Wingate interposed.

It was done before any further interference was possible. Wingate stood at her side, grim and threatening. The words had left her lips before either of the other men could shout her down.

"It is a night message from New York," she said. "Listen: 'Confirm eleven steamers Universal Line withdrawn j.a.pan trade loading secretly huge wheat cargo for Liverpool. Confirm John Wingate, Milan Court, holds controlling influence. Advise buy his shares any price.'"

There was a moment's intense silence. Dredlinton opened his lips and closed them again. Phipps was exhibiting remarkable self-control. His tone, as he addressed Wingate, was grave but almost natural.

"Under these circ.u.mstances, do you wish to repudiate your bargain?" he asked. "We must at least know where we are."

Wingate turned to Josephine.

"The matter," he decided, "is not in my hands. Lady Dredlinton," he went on, "the person who opened the door of my sitting room last night was Miss Flossie Lane, a musical comedy actress sent there by your husband, who had followed you to the Milan. Your husband imagines that because you were in my apartments at such an unusual hour, he has cause for a divorce. That I do not believe, but, to save proceedings which might be distasteful to you, I was prepared to sell Mr. Phipps my shares in the Universal Line, imagining it to be an ordinary business transaction. The cable which you have just read has revealed the true reason why Phipps desires to acquire those shares. The arrival of that wheat will force down prices, for a time, at any rate. It may even drive this accursed company into seeking some other field of speculation. What shall I do?"

She smiled at him over her husband's head. She did not hesitate even for a second. Her tone was proud and insistent.

"You must of course keep your shares," she declared. "As regards the other matter, my husband can do as he thinks well."

Wingate's eyes flashed his thanks. He drew a little sigh of relief and deliberately tore in halves the agreement which he had been holding. Dredlinton leaned over the desk, s.n.a.t.c.hed at the telephone receiver, threw himself into his chair, and, glared first at Wingate and then at his wife.

"My G.o.d, then," he exclaimed furiously, "I'll keep my word!--Mayfair 67.--I'll drag you through the dust, my lady," he went on. "You shall be the heroine of one of those squalid divorce cases you've spoken of so scornfully. You shall crawl through life a divorcee, made an honest woman through the generosity of an American adventurer!--67, Mayfair, I said."

Phipps shook his head sorrowfully.

"My friend," he said, "this is useless bl.u.s.ter. Put down the telephone.

Let us talk the matter out squarely. Your methods are a little too melodramatic."

"Go to h.e.l.l!" Dredlinton shouted. "You are too much out for compromises, Phipps. There are times when one must strike.--Exchange! I say, Exchange!

Why the devil can't you give me Mayfair 67?--What's that?--An urgent call?--Well, go on, then. Out with it.--Who's speaking? Mr. Stanley Rees'

servant?--Yes, yes! I'm Lord Dredlinton. Get on with it."

There was a moment of intense silence. Dredlinton was listening, indifferently at first, then as though spellbound, his lips a little parted, his cheeks colourless, his eyes filled with a strange terror.

Presently he laid down the receiver, although he failed to replace it. He turned very slowly around, and his eyes, still filled with a haunting fear, sought Wingate's.

"Stanley has disappeared!" he gasped. "He had one of those letters last night. It lies on his table now, his servant says. There was a noise in his room at four o'clock this morning. When they called him---he had gone! No one has seen or heard of him since!"

"Stanley disappeared?" Phipps repeated in a dazed tone.

"There's been foul play!" Dredlinton cried hoa.r.s.ely. "His servant is sure of it!"

Wingate picked up his hat and stick and moved towards the door. From the threshold he looked back, waiting whilst Josephine joined him.

"Youth," he said calmly, "must be served. Stanley Rees was, I believe, the youngest director on the Board of the British and Imperial Granaries.

Now, if you like, Mr. Phipps, I'll come on to your market. I'm a seller of a hundred thousand bushels of wheat at to-day's price."

"Go to h.e.l.l!" Phipps shouted, his face black with rage.

CHAPTER XVI