“All right, Mr. Wharton, you may go in,” and the group stepped on either side and bowed with mock humility to the young banker and his companion. They were busy enough, and scores of their fellows also, in the intervening six hours, in watching the effect of the great news upon trade and finance, and in collecting the opinions of men whose advice in such a crisis might prove valuable. The first effect everywhere in great markets was paralysis. The tidings were so unexpected, so stupendous, that even the masters of finance were dumfounded. There was no precedent to guide them. They did not even know at first whether the news was good or bad. Self-protection was the only instinct aroused in most cases, but in what direction was this to be sought? Many put themselves on the _qui vive_ to watch the tendency of the current, ready to act accordingly. Brent and Wharton, in coöperation with some of the members of the Paris conference, had made such preparations as were possible to prevent any extreme fluctuations of values either way during the first hours following the disclosure of the secret. The London, Berlin, and Paris markets opening some hours before those of New York, set an example of steadiness. So great was the popular timidity and hesitation that for some hours the markets were almost stagnant. It was London, the controlling head of the financial world, that preserved the general equilibrium. It was apparent, before the close of the day’s business there, that the new element suddenly added to the monetary situation was not regarded as a serious menace to financial stability. Most of the precautionary measures which had been provided in the principal centers proved to be unnecessary. There was nothing extraordinary in the course of the markets during the day in Europe or America. Anxious hours for the two men in Strong & Co.’s New York office were followed by genuine relief and satisfaction, when three o’clock came without panic or serious disturbance in that most excitable of all thoroughfares--Wall Street. The promised interview with the newspaper men became a congratulatory reception. Brent felt an uncomfortable resemblance between himself and a museum freak when the group of writers was presented to him, but he speedily found himself chatting affably and familiarly with gentlemen who regarded and treated him in no other way than as a man of the world like themselves. They were genuinely interested in the brief personal narrative which they encouraged him to tell. He quite forgot that his companions were journalists. The conversation was general and it didn’t become serious for some time.