During the last few days before his departure, Brent made an emergency agreement with Wharton and the president. It seemed wise to take some precautions regarding a course of action in case of the disclosure, accidental or otherwise, of the secret of his treasure-house during his absence in Europe. Each of the four who had knowledge of the facts was convinced that a premature betrayal of the truth would plunge the world into financial chaos, unless the danger could be removed by a single stroke. It was therefore arranged that if necessity should arise, every one of the wooden cases in Brent’s vault would be loaded as quickly and quietly as possible under protection of the United States authorities upon one or two men-of-war to be kept in readiness in New York harbor. These vessels would at once put to sea, and their cargoes would be thrown overboard in mid-ocean. As soon as this had been accomplished, the president would issue a proclamation setting forth all the facts and assuring the world that all danger had passed. All the quartet, who considered the matter one afternoon at the Executive Mansion, heartily approved of this arrangement, and they one and all felt a large measure of relief when the dreaded emergency had been provided for. On Saturday, the 28th of December, Brent sailed for Europe in company with the secretary of the treasury and the great banker who had been named as the second representative of the United States at the international monetary conference to meet in Paris two weeks later. CHAPTER XIII. THE VERDICT OF THE WORLD’S WISE MEN OF FINANCE. The _grand salon_ of the French Foreign Office was once more the meeting-place of a great international tribunal. Four years before, an imposing bench of famous jurists had sat in the same chamber to arbitrate the differences between two peoples who wisely preferred the impartial judgment of a court of nations to the arbitrament of war. The lofty _salon_, with its fine tapestries, its historical works of art, its soberly rich furnishings, had not at all the appearance of a high judicial chamber. As the sittings of the Bering Sea Arbitration Board had suggested, it seemed arranged rather for the assembling of the privy council of an emperor. A high, throne-like seat for the presiding officer was placed at the end of the room farthest from the entrance. At each side of the president’s chair was another place of honor for one of the two members who were to act as secretaries. Grouped in a large semi-circle were eleven richly carved desks, each provided with a great leather chair.