"I am, to look at," Mr. Beldeman continued, "an unimportant person. As a matter of fact, I represent a very great country, and I come to you charged with a great mission."

Maraton became a little graver. "Go on," he said.

"I am anxious--perhaps over-anxious," Mr. Beldeman proceeded, "that I should put this matter before you in the most favourable light. I must confess that I have spent hours trying to make up my mind exactly how I should tell you my business. I have changed my mind so many times that there is nothing left of my original intention. I speak now as the thoughts come to me. I am here on behalf of a syndicate of manufacturers--foreign manufacturers--to offer you a bribe."

Maraton stood quite still upon the hearth-rug. His face showed no emotion whatever.

"You are, I believe," Mr. Beldeman went on, "only half an Englishman.

That is why I am hoping that you will behave like a reasonable being, and that my person may be saved from violence. Upon your word rests the industrial future of this country for the next ten years. If your forges burn out and your factories are emptied, it will mean an era of prosperity for my country, indescribable. We are great trade rivals.

We need just the opening. What we get we may not be able to hold altogether, when trade is once more good here, but that is of no consequence. We shall have it for a year or two, and that year or two will mean a good many millions to us."

Maraton's eyes began to twinkle.

"The matter," he remarked, "becomes clearer to me. You are either the most ingenuous person I ever met, or the most subtle. Tell me, is it a personal bribe you have brought?"

"It is not," Mr. Beldeman replied. "It did not occur to those in whose employment I am, or to me, to offer you a single sixpence. I am here to offer you, if you send your people out on strike within the next week--the coal strike, the railway strike, the ironfounders, the smelters, from the Clyde southwards--one million pounds as a subscription to your strike funds."

"You have it with you?" Maraton enquired, after a moment.

"I have four drafts for two hundred and fifty thousand pounds each, in my pocket-book at the present moment," Mr. Beldeman declared. "They are payable to your order. You can accept my offer and pay them into your private banking account or the banking account of any one of your Trades' Unions. There is not the slightest doubt but that they will be met."

"Are there any terms at all connected with this little subscription?"

"None," Beldeman replied.

"And your object," Maraton added, "is to benefit through our loss of trade?"

"Entirely," Mr. Beldeman a.s.sented, without a quiver upon his face.

Maraton was silent for a moment.

"I do not see my way absolutely clear," he announced, "to recommending a railway strike at the present moment. If I acceded to all the others, what would your position be? The railway strike is of little consequence to a foreign nation. The coal strike, and the iron and steel works of Sheffield and Leeds closed--that's where English trade would suffer most, especially if the cotton people came out."

Mr. Beldeman shook his head slowly. "My conditions," he said, "embrace the railways."

"Somehow, I fancied that they would," Maraton remarked. "Tell me why?"

Beldeman rose slowly to his feet.

"Are you an Englishman?" he asked.

"I can't deny it," Maraton replied. "I was born abroad. Why are you so interested in my nationality?"

Beldeman shrugged his shoulders.

"I cannot tell you. Just an idea. I do not wish to say too much. I wish you only to consider what a million pounds will do to help your work people. You, they say, are one of those who love the people as your own children. A million pounds may enable them to hold out until they can secure practically what terms they like. Those million pounds are yours to-day, yours for the people, if you pledge your word to a universal strike."

"Including the railways?"

"Including the railways," Mr. Beldeman a.s.sented.

Maraton smiled quietly.

"I do not ask you," he said, "what country you represent. I think that it is not necessary. You have come to me rather as though I were a dictator. There are others besides myself with whom influence rests."

"It is you only who count," Mr. Beldeman declared. "I am thankful that at any rate you have met my offer in a reasonable spirit. Accept it, Mr. Maraton. What concern have you for other things save only for the welfare of the people?"

"I have considered this matter," Maraton remarked, "many, many times. A universal strike, absolutely universal so far as regards transport and coal, would place the country in a paralytic and helpless condition.

Still, so many people have a.s.sured us that an onslaught from any foreign country is never seriously to be considered, that I have come to believe it myself. What is your opinion?"

Mr. Beldeman remained silent for a few moments.

"One cannot tell," he said. "The stock of coal available for your home fleet happens to be rather low just now. One cannot tell what might happen. Do you greatly care? Wasn't it you who, in one of your speeches, pointed out that a war in your country would be welcome? That the cla.s.s who would suffer would be the cla.s.s who are your great oppressors--the manufacturers, the middle cla.s.ses--and that with their downfall the working man would struggle upwards? Do you believe, Mr.

Maraton, that a war would hurt your own people?"

"My own ideas," Maraton replied, "are in a state of transition.

However, your offer is declined."

"Declined without conditions?" Mr. Beldeman enquired, taking up his hat.

"For the present it is declined without conditions. I will be quite frank with you. Your offer doesn't shock me as it might do if I were a right-feeling Imperialist of the proper Jingo type. I believe that a week ago I should have considered it very seriously indeed. Its acceptance would have been in accordance with my beliefs. And yet, since you have made it, you have made me wonder more than ever whether I have been right. I find a revulsion of feeling in considering it, which I cannot understand."

"I may approach you again," Mr. Beldeman asked, "if circ.u.mstances should change? Possibly you yourself may, upon reflection, appreciate my suggestion more thoroughly."

Maraton was silent for a moment. When he looked up he was alone. Mr.

Beldeman had not waited for his reply.

CHAPTER XV

One by one, Maraton got rid at last of the little crowd of journalists who had been waiting for him below. The last on the list was perhaps the most difficult. He pressed very hard for an answer to his direct question.

"War or peace, Mr. Maraton? Which is it to be? Just one word, that's all."

Maraton shook his head.

"In less than an hour, the delegates from London will be here," he announced. "We shall hold a conference and come to our decision then."

"Will their coming make any real difference?" the journalist persisted.

"You hadn't much to say to delegates in America."

"The Labour Party over here is better organised, in some respects,"

Maraton told him. "I have nothing to say until after the conference."

His persistent visitor drew a little nearer to him.

"There's a report about that you've been staying with Foley."