London.
Sir Charles Gray, Assistant Minister of Foreign Affairs of the United Kingdom, was enjoying afternoon tea in the back garden when he saw the butler hurrying over and bowing to him. "Sir, Mr. Clary has brought a stranger who wishes to see you."
Sir Gray could not help frowning. He greatly disliked having his leisure disturbed by such ill-mannered people.
But when he caught sight of the almost pure-white tea in his cup, his interest in tea vanished in an instant—because of the soaring price of tea, even his afternoon tea had to be diluted with copious amounts of milk to make up the volume. It scarcely tasted of tea anymore.
He rose and waved a hand. "Have them wait for me in the reception room."
Yet before long, he forgave Clary for his rude behavior.
Because the "French merchant" Clary had brought him had revealed a piece of extremely important intelligence.
"Are you certain the information is reliable?" he asked the Frenchman.
"I can swear it before God."
"Tell me more details."
The "French merchant" rubbed his hands with a broad smile. "You see, about those one thousand pounds sterling..."
"Five hundred at most."
"Then I can only sell it to Lloyd's. They have offered one thousand pounds sterling."
Gray looked at Clary. Seeing the latter nod, he immediately relented. "Very well, one thousand pounds sterling. But until I have confirmed that this is true, you may not leave London."
If even Lloyd's was willing to buy this news, it had to be genuine.
The "French merchant" nodded. "Perfectly reasonable, sir.
"Specifically, the negotiations will be held in Milan on the tenth of next month. Judging from the attitude the Russians have displayed so far, they are extremely eager to conclude a truce with Paris..."
The next day.