'We should,' he said with a chuckle. 'It is the army's job to prepare for all such possibilities. However, I very much doubt such a plan exists. Our generals have a long tradition of being woefully unprepared, and in any case they seem to find shooting people armed only with spears quite difficult enough. Nonetheless, such plans should exist, as it is obvious that sooner or later there will be another war in Europe, and we do not know if we will be able to stand by and watch. No matter. Assume, if you can, that the generals are better prepared and more far-seeing than they are. How to react to the presence of this Frenchman on our soil?'
'Stop him.'
'How?'
'By whatever means necessary.'
'But he is only trying to do that which you have already declared legitimate.'
'I act to save the lives of my countrymen. And would do so again in this case.'
'Lives of Englishmen are more valuable than lives of Frenchmen?'
'Not in the eyes of God, perhaps, but I have no responsibility for the well-being of the French, while I am bound to the inhabitants of my country.'
'So, that is two murders you have committed. Quite a bloodthirsty fellow, are you not, Mr Cort?'
'I am nothing of the sort,' I said. 'I specialise in the syndication of international loans.'
'So you do. So you do. And you travel widely in pursuit of your business. France, Germany, even Italy. I gather you are competent at the languages of those countries as well.'
'Yes.'
He smiled. 'I'd like you to do me a little favour,' he said, changing the subject abruptly. 'When you are in Paris next week, I'd be most grateful if you could pick up a package for me. And bring it back. Would you oblige me in that matter?'
'Plans to invade England?' I asked.
'Oh, goodness me, no! We have those already; they're really quite good. No, this is something quite different. This is of no great secrecy or importance, routine correspondence, that is all; I merely want to ensure it gets here swiftly. I planned to get someone else to do it, but, alas, he had a small accident and cannot assist me.'
'I'd be happy to assist,' I said. 'Except that I'm not going to Paris next week. I believe my employers have no plans at all to send me anywhere, at present.'
He smiled sweetly. 'So kind of you to come and meet me today,' he said. 'I have greatly enjoyed our little conversation.'
I hardly knew what to make of this strange encounter, and was eager to discuss it with my chief, Mr Hector Samson of Syndication. He, however, although normally very strict about time-keeping, never referred to my absence for so many hours and, when I raised the matter, changed the topic so swiftly I realised he did not even want to know. The only indication I had that my employers were aware of the meeting was a letter dropped on my desk late that afternoon. I was to go to Paris the following Monday to supervise the final details of the flotation of a loan for an American railway company, they of the unsustainable dividends, although naturally such misgivings were not to be communicated to the other participants. That was their problem; all Barings had to do was get rid of the stock as swiftly as possible. Anyway, it was a small matter, already settled, the centre of which was to be in London with only a small participation from one Paris bank. Barings' own correspondents in France could – and regularly did – supervise such matters, and Barings were notoriously tight-fisted about extravagances like sending people on journeys. Even I could reason out what had happened.
I filled up much of my time on my recent voyage from Calcutta reading some of those stories of espionage which are so popular these days, which amused me greatly. I sometimes wonder if those few people who suspect my activities believe that I live a life of equal excitement. I am glad to say I do not. All this running around over deserts and feats of daring against sinister foreigners and secret societies makes splendid entertainment, but I do not know anyone of sense who conducts business in such a way. All governments, naturally, can call on people who are more proficient with muscle than with brain in certain circumstances. That's what armies are for. The task of discovering a rival's intentions and capabilities is, by and large, conducted in a more civilised fashion. In general, it is as dangerous and exciting as a busy day on the Baltic Exchange.
Except, that is, for my first venture into the business, which very nearly resulted in my deciding to have nothing to do with Henry Wilkinson. Hang the Empire, was my opinion, if it depends on this sort of thing.
