'In that case, I fear we have difficulties,' said the Count sadly. 'I have tried to be reasonable – you are no doubt as aware as I that we could have asked for very much more. If such a small thing cannot be done, then I can offer no more. I, too, have people to satisfy. I cannot propose something which seems like a humiliating failure.'
I pulled Wilkinson aside. 'Keep him talking,' I said quietly. 'Whatever you do, do not let him leave. I have an idea. Just make sure he's here when I get back.'
I took Elizabeth's carriage, which clattered through the streets at a breakneck pace, hurtling through the streets at the sort of speed which had pedestrians cursing me and the poor horses sweating profusely by the time we pulled up at the Hôtel du Louvre. I didn't bother with announcing myself, just ran up the stairs, all four floors, and along the corridor to Stone's suite, and hammered on the door.
'You must come. You're needed.'
We were back in the carriage a few moments later, back at her house twenty minutes after that. We had been gone an hour, and the Russians were losing their tempers by the time we arrived. So, it must be said, were Goschen and Wilkinson, who felt like fools, having to make polite and meaningless conversation all that time.
'A private word, please,' I said, and the Russians nodded as we trooped out.
'This is John Stone, Chancellor,' I said. 'I think he might be able to help.'
Goschen nodded. 'How?'
'Is your objection to a Russian naval base fundamental? That is to say, is the problem the base, or the consequences of people knowing about it?'
'Both. It would dramatically shift the balance of power in the Near East. I suppose we could live with that, but the public would not wear it. We'd be massacred.'
'And if no one knew?'
'How could anyone not know? Don't be absurd.'
I nodded to Stone, who I now saw for the first time working as a businessman. And by heavens he was impressive. He had only had a rapid account from me, and even with that he managed to take over and dominate the meeting with extraordinary speed.
'If the Russians want a base then they have to get it from Britain, practically speaking,' he said. 'We are the only country which could mobilise the resources for the sort of thing they must have in mind. Enough to maintain a fleet,' here Goschen grimaced, 'supplies, equipment, engineering shops. Clearly a major project. They don't have the capital, the workforce or the expertise to design, build and run it. Nor, I must say, do the French have enough spare capacity to provide it. The Germans do, but won't.
'Nor can we,' he went on. 'Or cannot appear to. And there would be outrage in Britain against any country – France, say – which did. Is that correct?'
Goschen nodded. 'It would be tantamount to an act of war if the French built the Russians such a thing.'
'Well,' Stone continued thoughtfully, 'it could be done. I'm sure that French banks would float the bonds to raise the money on behalf of the Russian Government; it could be a general fund for development. There would be no need to specify what it is for, if the interest rate was high enough. I could form a new construction company, registered in somewhere like Belgium, with shareholdings held in trust by banks across the Continent. As for the workforce, the crucial personnel would come from yards across Europe, directed at a distance by my companies. It would be perfectly possible to set up a structure so impenetrable that no one could ever find out who owned it. And the Russians could hail it as a triumph of Russian engineering, a sign of their industrial progress. I cannot speak about the strategic consequences, of course. That is outside my area of expertise. But if you are prepared to allow a base to be built, then it could be done without anyone knowing who was responsible.'
That was a summary; the actual discussion was much longer and far more technical. Goschen was both a money man and a politician and wanted to know exactly what Stone was suggesting. The more he heard, the more Stone dealt with his objections, the more I could see him regaining confidence and determination.
Eventually Goschen sat back. 'Any further comments?'
Wilkinson shook his head, and there was silence.
'Then I suggest we talk to the Russians once more. Mr Stone, if you would be so good as to come with us?'
I was left out of that one. The deal was done; the French and the Russians had both got what they wanted, and the end of the crisis was in sight. All they had to do was send the telegrams to deposit money in the Bank of England and it would be over. I could still hardly believe it; Britain had got off lightly; astonishingly lightly.
'You look tired, my friend,' Elizabeth said. She had come when she heard the others marching down the corridor.
'I'm afraid you've been a guest in your own house this evening.'
'Yes, and my chef might resign tomorrow. The amount these people eat and drink is astonishing. It all seems quite good-tempered, though.'
