d. "I didn't
put him in the waiting-room--a Mr. Beldeman. He came to see you in
Manchester."

"Beldeman!"

Maraton repeated the name. Then he smiled.

"A very sensational gentleman," he observed. "Came to offer me--but
never mind, I told you about that. Yes, you're right, Aaron. He is
always interesting. Take your sister away for a few minutes. You can
be getting ready. When I've finished with Mr. Beldeman, we'll start
out. I shan't change a thing."

Mr. Beldeman entered the room, carrying his hat in his hand, unruffled
by his long wait, to all appearance wearing the same clothes, the same
smile, as on his visit to the hotel in Manchester. Maraton greeted him
good-humouredly.

"Well, Mr. Beldeman," he began, "you see, I have made things all right
for your syndicate of manufacturers, although I couldn't accept your
offer. Sit down. You won't keep me long, will you? I have to go out.
Perhaps you are going to give me a little for my Lancashire operatives.
They can do with it. Strike pay over here is none too liberal, you
know."

Mr. Beldeman laid down his hat. He blinked for a moment behind his
gold spectacles.

"The Lancashire strike," he said softly, "is of very little service to
my principals. As you know, it is more than that for which we were
hoping."

Maraton nodded but made no remark.

"My principals," Mr. Beldeman continued, "have watched your career, Mr.
Maraton, for some time. They have studied eagerly your speeches and
your writings, and when you arrived on this side they expected something
more from you. They expected, in fact, the enunciation of a certain
doctrine which you have already propounded with singular eloquence in
other parts of the world. They expected to find it the text of your
first words to Labour in this country. I refer, of course, to the
universal strike."

"It was my great theory," Maraton admitted, suddenly grave. "I will not
say even now that I have abandoned it. It is in abeyance."

"My principals," Mr. Beldeman remarked slowly, "would like it to take
place."

Maraton smiled.

"Your principals, I presume," he said, "do not imagine that I am on the
earth to gratify them, even though they did offer me--let me see, how
much was it--a million pounds?"

"This time," Mr. Beldeman went on, "it is not a question of money."

"Not a question of money," Maraton repeated. "You don't want to buy me?
What do you want to do, then?"

"We threaten," Mr. Beldeman pronounced calmly.