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+Project Gutenberg Etext A Millionaire of Yesterday, by Oppenheim
+#6 in our series by E. Phillips Oppenheim
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+A Millionaire of Yesterday
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+by E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+August, 1999  [Etext #1878]
+
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+Project Gutenberg Etext A Millionaire of Yesterday, by Oppenheim
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+This Etext prepared by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer.
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+
+
+A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY  by  E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+"Filth," grunted Trent - "ugh!  I tell you what it is, my venerable
+friend - I have seen some dirty cabins in the west of Ireland and
+some vile holes in East London.  I've been in some places which I
+can't think of even now without feeling sick.  I'm not a particular
+chap, wasn't brought up to it - no, nor squeamish either, but this
+is a bit thicker than anything I've ever knocked up against.  If
+Francis doesn't hurry we'll have to chuck it!  We shall never stand
+it out, Monty!"
+
+The older man, gaunt, blear-eyed, ragged, turned over on his side.
+His appearance was little short of repulsive.  His voice when he
+spoke was, curiously enough, the voice of a gentleman, thick and a
+trifle rough though it sounded.
+
+"My young friend," he said, "I agree with you - in effect - most
+heartily.  The place is filthy, the surroundings are repulsive, not
+to add degrading.  The society is - er - not congenial - I allude
+of course to our hosts - and the attentions of these unwashed, and
+I am afraid I must say unclothed, ladies of dusky complexion is to
+say the least of it embarrassing."
+
+"Dusky complexion!" Trent interrupted scornfully, "they're coal
+black!"
+
+Monty nodded his head with solemn emphasis.  "I will go so far as
+to admit that you are right," he acknowledged.  "They are as black
+as sin!  But, my friend Trent, I want you to consider this: If the
+nature of our surroundings is offensive to you, think what it must
+be to me.  I may, I presume, between ourselves, allude to you as
+one of the people.  Refinement and luxury have never come in your
+way, far less have they become indispensable to you.  You were, I
+believe, educated at a Board School, I was at Eton.  Afterwards you
+were apprenticed to a harness-maker, I - but no matter!  Let us
+summarise the situation."
+
+"If that means cutting it short, for Heaven's sake do so," Trent
+grumbled.  "You'll talk yourself into a fever if you don't mind.
+Let's know what you're driving at."
+
+"Talking," the elder man remarked with a slight shrug of his
+shoulders, "will never have a prejudicial effect upon my health.
+To men of your - pardon me - scanty education the expression of
+ideas in speech is doubtless a labour.  To me, on the other hand,
+it is at once a pleasure and a relief.  What I was about to
+observe is this: I belong by birth to what are called, I believe,
+the classes, you to the masses.  I have inherited instincts which
+have been refined and cultivated, perhaps over-cultivated by
+breeding and associations - you are troubled with nothing of the
+sort.  Therefore if these surroundings, this discomfort, not to
+mention the appalling overtures of our lady friends, are distressing
+to you, why, consider how much more so they must be to me!"
+
+Trent smiled very faintly, but he said nothing.  He was sitting
+cross-legged with his back against one of the poles which supported
+the open hut, with his eyes fixed upon the cloud of mist hanging
+over a distant swamp.  A great yellow moon had stolen over the low
+range of stony hills - the mist was curling away in little wreaths
+of gold.  Trent was watching it, but if you had asked him he would
+have told you that he was wondering when the alligators came out
+to feed, and how near the village they ventured.  Looking at his
+hard, square face and keen, black eyes no one would surely have
+credited him with any less material thoughts.
+
+"Furthermore," the man whom Trent had addressed as Monty continued,
+"there arises the question of danger and physical suitability to
+the situation.  Contrast our two cases, my dear young friend.  I am
+twenty-five years older than you, I have a weak heart, a ridiculous
+muscle, and the stamina of a rabbit.  My fighting days are over.  I
+can shoot straight, but shooting would only serve us here until our
+cartridges were gone - when the rush came a child could knock me
+over.  You, on the contrary, have the constitution of an ox, the
+muscles of a bull, and the wind of an ostrich.  You are, if you will
+pardon my saying so, a magnificent specimen of the animal man.  In
+the event of trouble you would not hesitate to admit that your
+chances of escape would be at least double mine.  Trent lit a match
+under pretence of lighting his pipe  - in reality because only a few
+feet away he had seen a pair of bright eyes gleaming at them through
+a low shrub.  A little native boy scuttled away - as black as night,
+woolly-headed, and shiny; he had crept up unknown to look with
+fearful eyes upon the wonderful white strangers.  Trent threw a lump
+of earth at him and laughed as he dodged it.
+
+"Well, go ahead, Monty," he said.  "Let's hear what you're driving
+at.  What a gab you've got to be sure!"
+
+Monty waved his hand - a magnificent and silencing gesture.
+
+"I have alluded to these matters," he continued, "merely in order
+to show you that the greater share of danger and discomfort in
+this expedition falls to my lot.  Having reminded you of this,
+Trent, I refer to the concluding sentence of your last speech.  The
+words indicated, as I understood them, some doubt of our ability to
+see this thing through."
+
+He paused, peering over to where Trent was sitting with grim,
+immovable face, listening with little show of interest.  He drew a
+long, deep breath and moved over nearer to the doorway.  His manner
+was suddenly changed.
+
+"Scarlett Trent," he cried, "Scarlett Trent, listen to me!  You are
+young and I am old!  To you this may be one adventure amongst many
+ - it is my last.  I've craved for such a chance as this ever since
+I set foot in this cursed land.  It's come late enough, too late
+almost for me, but I'm going through with it while there's breath
+in my body.  Swear to me now that you will not back out!  Do you
+hear, Trent?  Swear!"
+
+Trent looked curiously at his companion, vastly interested in this
+sudden outburst, in the firmness of his tone and the tightening of
+the weak mouth.  After all, then, the old chap had some grit in him.
+To Trent, who had known him for years as a broken-down hanger-on of
+the settlement at Buckomari, a drunkard, gambler, a creature to all
+appearance hopelessly gone under, this look and this almost
+passionate appeal were like a revelation.  He stretched out his
+great hand and patted his companion on the back - a proceeding which
+obviously caused him much discomfort.
+
+"Bravo, old cockie!" he said.  "Didn't imagine you'd got the grit.
+You know I'm not the chap to be let down easy.  We'll go through
+with it, then, and take all chances!  It's my game right along.
+Every copper I've got went to pay the bearers here and to buy the
+kickshaws and rum for old What's-his-name, and I'm not anxious to
+start again as a pauper.  We'll stay here till we get our
+concessions, or till they bury us, then!  It's a go!"
+
+Monty - no one at Buckomari had ever known of any other name for
+him - stretched out a long hand, with delicate tapering fingers,
+and let it rest for a moment gingerly in the thick, brown palm of
+his companion.  Then he glanced stealthily over his shoulder and
+his eyes gleamed.
+
+"I think, if you will allow me, Trent, I will just moisten my lips
+ - no more - with some of that excellent brandy."
+
+Trent caught his arm and held it firmly.
+
+"No, you don't," he said, shaking his head.  "That's the last
+bottle, and we've got the journey back.  We'll keep that, in case
+of fever."
+
+A struggle went on in the face of the man whose hot breath fell
+upon Trent's cheek.  It was the usual thing - the disappointment
+of the baffled drunkard - a little more terrible in his case perhaps
+because of the remnants of refinement still to be traced in his
+well-shaped features.  His weak eyes for once were eloquent, but
+with the eloquence of cupidity and unwholesome craving, his lean
+cheeks twitched and his hands shook.
+
+"Just a drop, Trent!" he pleaded.  "I'm not feeling well, indeed
+I'm not!  The odours here are so foul.  A liqueur-glassful will do
+me all the good in the world."
+
+"You won't get it, Monty, so it's no use whining," Trent said
+bluntly.  "I've given way to you too much already.  Buck up, man!
+We're on the threshold of fortune and we need all our wits about us."
+
+"Of fortune - fortune!"  Monty's head dropped upon his chest, his
+nostrils dilated, he seemed to fall into a state of stupor.  Trent
+watched him half curiously, half contemptuously.
+
+"You're terribly keen on money-making for an old 'un," he remarked,
+after a somewhat lengthy pause.  "What do you want to do with it?"
+
+"To do with it!"  The old man raised his head.  "To do with it!"
+The gleam of reawakened desire lit up his face.  He sat for a
+moment thinking.  Then he laughed softly.
+
+"I will tell you, Master Scarlett Trent," he said, "I will tell you
+why I crave for wealth.  You are a young and an ignorant man.
+Amongst other things you do not know what money will buy.  You have
+your coarse pleasures I do not doubt, which seem sweet to you!
+Beyond them - what?  A tasteless and barbaric display, a vulgar
+generosity, an ignorant and purposeless prodigality.  Bah!  How
+different it is with those who know!  There are many things, my
+young friend, which I learned in my younger days, and amongst them
+was the knowledge of how to spend money.  How to spend it, you
+understand!  It is an art, believe me!  I mastered it, and, until
+the end came, it was magnificent.  In London and Paris to-day to
+have wealth and to know how to spend it is to be the equal of
+princes!  The salons of the beautiful fly open before you, great
+men will clamour for your friendship, all the sweetest triumphs
+which love and sport can offer are yours.  You stalk amongst a
+world of pygmies a veritable giant, the adored of women, the envied
+of men!  You may be old - it matters not; ugly - you will be fooled
+into reckoning yourself an Adonis.  Nobility is great, art is great,
+genius is great, but the key to the pleasure storehouse of the world
+is a key of gold - of gold!"
+
+He broke off with a little gasp.  He held his throat and looked
+imploringly towards the bottle.  Trent shook his head stonily.
+There was something pitiful in the man's talk, in that odd mixture
+of bitter cynicism and passionate earnestness, but there was also
+something fascinating.  As regards the brandy, however, Trent was
+adamant.
+
+"Not a drop," he declared.  "What a fool you are to want it, Monty!
+You're a wreck already.  You want to pull through, don't you?  Leave
+the filthy stuff alone.  You'll not live a month to enjoy your coin
+if we get it!"
+
+"Live!" Monty straightened himself out.  A tremor went through all
+his frame.
+
+"Live!" he repeated, with fierce contempt; "you are making the
+common mistake of the whole ignorant herd.  You are measuring life
+by its length, when its depth alone is of any import.  I want no
+more than a year or two at the most, and I promise you, Mr. Scarlett
+Trent, my most estimable young companion, that, during that year, I
+will live more than you in your whole lifetime.  I will drink deep
+of pleasures which you know nothing of, I will be steeped in joys
+which you will never reach more nearly than the man who watches a
+change in the skies or a sunset across the ocean!  To you, with
+boundless wealth, there will be depths of happiness which you will
+never probe, joys which, if you have the wit to see them at all,
+will be no more than a mirage to you."
+
+Trent laughed outright, easily and with real mirth.  Yet in his
+heart were sown already the seeds of a secret dread.  There was a
+ring of passionate truth in Monty's words.  He believed what he was
+saying.  Perhaps he was right.  The man's inborn hatred of a second
+or inferior place in anything stung him.  Were there to be any
+niches after all in the temple of happiness to which he could never
+climb?  He looked back rapidly, looked down the avenue of a squalid
+and unlovely life, saw himself the child of drink-sodden and brutal
+parents, remembered the Board School with its unlovely surroundings,
+his struggles at a dreary trade, his running away and the fierce
+draughts of delight which the joy and freedom of the sea had brought
+to him on the morning when he had crept on deck, a stowaway, to be
+lashed with every rope-end and to do the dirty work of every one.
+Then the slavery at a Belgian settlement, the job on a steamer
+trading along the Congo, the life at Buckomari, and lastly this bold
+enterprise in which the savings of years were invested.  It was a
+life which called aloud for fortune some day or other to make a
+little atonement.  The old man was dreaming.  Wealth would bring
+him, uneducated though he was, happiness enough and to spare.
+
+A footstep fell softly upon the turf outside.  Trent sprang at once
+into an attitude of rigid attention.  His revolver, which for four
+days had been at full cock by his side, stole out and covered the
+approaching shadow stealing gradually nearer and nearer.  The old
+man saw nothing, for he slept, worn out with excitement and
+exhaustion.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+A fat, unwholesome - looking creature, half native, half Belgian,
+waddled across the open space towards the hut in which the two
+strangers had been housed.  He was followed at a little distance by
+two sturdy natives bearing a steaming pot which they carried on a
+pole between them.  Trent set down his revolver and rose to his feet.
+
+"What news, Oom Sam?" he asked.  "Has the English officer been heard
+of?  He must be close up now."
+
+"No news," the little man grunted.  "The King, he send some of his
+own supper to the white men.  'They got what they want,' he say.
+'They start work mine soon as like, but they go away from here.'
+He not like them about the place!  See!"
+
+"Oh, that be blowed!" Trent muttered.  "What's this in the pot?  It
+don't smell bad."
+
+"Rabbit," the interpreter answered tersely.  "Very good.  Part
+King's own supper.  White men very favoured."
+
+Trent bent over the pot which the two men had set upon the ground.
+He took a fork from his belt and dug it in.
+
+"Very big bones for a rabbit, Sam," he remarked doubtfully.
+
+Sam looked away.  "Very big rabbits round here," he remarked.  "Best
+keep pot.  Send men away."
+
+Trent nodded, and the men withdrew.
+
+"Stew all right," Sam whispered confidentially.  "You eat him.  No
+fear.  But you got to go.  King beginning get angry.  He say white
+men not to stay.  They got what he promised, now they go.  I know
+King - know this people well!  You get away quick.  He think you
+want be King here!  You got the papers  - all you want, eh?"
+
+"Not quite, Sam," Trent answered.  "There's an Englishman, Captain
+Francis, on his way here up the Coast, going on to Walgetta Fort.
+He must be here to-morrow.  I want him to see the King's signature.
+If he's a witness these niggers can never back out of the concession.
+They're slippery devils.  Another chap may come on with more rum and
+they'll forget us and give him the right to work the mines too.  See!"
+
+"I see," Sam answered; "but him not safe to wait.  You believe me.
+I know these tam niggers.  They take two days get drunk, then get
+devils, four - raving mad.  They drunk now.  Kill any one to-morrow
+ - perhaps you.  Kill you certain to-morrow night.  You listen now!"
+
+Trent stood up in the shadow of the overhanging roof.  Every now
+and then came a wild, shrill cry from the lower end of the village.
+Some one was beating a frightful, cracked drum which they had got
+from a trader.  The tumult was certainly increasing.  Trent swore
+softly, and then looked irresolutely over his shoulder to where
+Monty was sleeping.
+
+"If the worst comes we shall never get away quickly," he muttered.
+"That old carcase can scarcely drag himself along."
+
+Sam looked at him with cunning eyes.
+
+"He not fit only die," he said softly.  "He very old, very sick man,
+you leave him here!  I see to him."
+
+Trent turned away in sick disgust.
+
+"We'll be off to-morrow, Sam," he said shortly.  "I say!  I'm
+beastly hungry.  What's in that pot?"
+
+Sam spread out the palms of his hands.
+
+"He all right, I see him cooked," he declared.  "He two rabbits and
+one monkey."
+
+Trent took out a plate and helped himself.
+
+"All right," he said.  "Be off now.  We'll go to-morrow before these
+towsly-headed beauties are awake."
+
+Sam nodded and waddled off.  Trent threw a biscuit and hit his
+companion on the cheek.
+
+"Here, wake up, Monty!" he exclaimed.  "Supper's come from the royal
+kitchen.  Bring your plate and tuck in!"
+
+Monty struggled to his feet and came meekly towards where the pot
+stood simmering upon the ground.
+
+"I'm not hungry, Trent," he said, "but I am very thirsty, very
+thirsty indeed.  My throat is all parched.  I am most uncomfortable.
+Really I think your behaviour with regard to the brandy is most
+unkind and ungenerous; I shall be ill, I know I shall.  Won't you - "
+
+"No, I won't," Trent interrupted.  "Now shut up all that rot and
+eat something."
+
+"I have no appetite, thank you," Monty answered, with sulky dignity.
+
+"Eat something, and don't be a silly ass!" Trent insisted.  "We've
+a hard journey before us, and you'll need all the strength in your
+carcase to land in Buckomari again.  Here, you've dropped some of
+your precious rubbish."
+
+Trent stooped forward and picked up what seemed to him at first to
+be a piece of cardboard from the ground.  He was about to fling it
+to its owner, when he saw that it was a photograph.  It was the
+likeness of a girl, a very young girl apparently, for her hair was
+still down her back and her dress was scarcely of the orthodox
+length.  It was not particularly well taken, but Trent had never
+seen anything like it before.  The lips were slightly parted, the
+deep eyes were brimming with laughter, the pose was full of grace,
+even though the girl's figure was angular.  Trent had seen as much
+as this, when he felt the smart of a sudden blow upon the cheek,
+the picture was snatched from his hand, and Monty - his face
+convulsed with anger - glowered fiercely upon him.
+
+"You infernal young blackguard!  You impertinent meddling blockhead!
+How dare you presume to look at that photograph!  How dare you, sir!
+How dare you!"
+
+Trent was too thoroughly astonished to resent either the blow or
+the fierce words.  He looked up into his aggressor's face in blank
+surprise.
+
+"I only looked at it," he muttered.  "It was lying on the floor."
+
+"Looked at it!  You looked at it!  Like your confounded impertinence,
+sir!  Who are you to look at her!  If ever I catch you prying into
+my concerns again, I'll shoot you - by Heaven I will!"
+
+Trent laughed sullenly, and, having finished eating, lit his pipe.
+
+"Your concerns are of no interest to me," he said shortly; "keep
+'em to yourself - and look here, old 'un, keep your hands off me!
+I ain't a safe man to hit let me tell you.  Now sit down and cool
+off!  I don't want any more of your tantrums."
+
+Then there was a long silence between the two men.  Monty sat where
+Trent had been earlier in the night at the front of the open hut,
+his eyes fixed upon the ever-rising moon, his face devoid of
+intelligence, his eyes dim.  The fire of the last few minutes had
+speedily burnt out.  His half-soddened brain refused to answer to
+the sudden spasm of memory which had awakened a spark of the former
+man.  If he had thoughts at all, they hung around that brandy bottle.
+The calm beauty of the African night could weave no spell upon him.
+A few feet behind, Trent, by the light of the moon, was practising
+tricks with a pack of greasy cards.  By and by a spark of
+intelligence found its way into Monty's brain.  He turned round
+furtively.
+
+"Trent," he said, "this is slow!  Let us have a friendly game - you
+and I."
+
+Trent yawned.
+
+"Come on, then," he said.  "Single Poker or Euchre, eh?"
+
+"I do not mind," Monty replied affably.  "Just which you prefer."
+
+"Single Poker, then," Trent said.
+
+"And the stakes?"
+
+"We've nothing left to play for," Trent answered gloomily, "except
+cartridges."
+
+Monty made a wry face.  "Poker for love, my dear Trent," he said,
+"between you and me, would lack all the charm of excitement.  It
+would be, in fact, monotonous!  Let us exercise our ingenuity.
+There must be something still of value in our possession.
+
+He relapsed into an affectation of thoughtfulness.  Trent watched
+him curiously.  He knew quite well that his partner was dissembling,
+but he scarcely saw to what end.  Monty's eyes, moving round the
+grass-bound hut, stopped at Trent's knapsack which hung from the
+central pole.  He uttered a little exclamation.
+
+"I have it," he declared.  "The very thing."
+
+"Well!"
+
+"You are pleased to set an altogether fictitious value upon 
+half bottle of brandy we have left," he said.  "Now I tell you what
+I will do.  In a few months we shall both be rich men.  I will play
+you for my I 0 U, for fifty pounds, fifty sovereigns, Trent,
+against half the contents of that bottle.  Come, that is a fair
+offer, is it not?  How we shall laugh at this in a year or two!
+Fifty pounds against a tumblerful -  positively there is no more
+ - a tumblerful of brandy."
+
+He was watching Trent's face all the time, but the younger man gave
+no sign.  When he had finished, Trent took up the cards, which he
+had shuffled for Poker, and dealt them out for Patience.  Monty's
+eyes were dim with disappointment.
+
+"What!" he cried.  "You don't agree!  Did you understand me?  Fifty
+pounds, Trent!  Why, you must be mad!"
+
+"Oh, shut up!' Trent growled.  "I don't want your money, and the
+brandy's poison to you!  Go to sleep!"
+
+Monty crept a little nearer to his partner and laid his hand upon
+his arm.  His shirt fell open, showing the cords of his throat
+swollen and twitching.  His voice was half a sob.
+
+"Trent, you are a young man - not old like me.  You don't understand
+my constitution.  Brandy is a necessity to me!  I've lived on it so
+long that I shall die if you keep it from me.  Remember, it's a
+whole day since I tasted a drop!  Now I'll make it a hundred.  What
+do you say to that?  One hundred!"
+
+Trent paused in his game, and looked steadfastly into the eager face
+thrust close to his.  Then he shrugged his shoulders and gathered up
+the cards.
+
+"You're the silliest fool I ever knew," he said bluntly, "but I
+suppose you'll worry me into a fever if you don't have your own way."
+
+"You agree?" Monty shrieked.  Trent nodded and dealt the cards.
+
+"It must be a show after the draw," he said.  "We can't bet, for
+we've nothing to raise the stakes with!"
+
+Monty was breathing hard and his fingers trembled, as though the
+ague of the swamps was already upon him.  He took up his cards one
+by one, and as he snatched up the last he groaned.  Not a pair!
+
+"Four cards," he whispered hoarsely.  Trent dealt them out, looked
+at his own hand, and, keeping a pair of queens, took three more
+cards.  He failed to improve, and threw them upon the floor.  With
+frantic eagerness Monty grovelled down to see them - then with a
+shriek of triumph he threw down a pair of aces.
+
+"Mine!" he said.  "I kept an ace and drew another.  Give me the
+brandy!"
+
+Trent rose up, measured the contents of the bottle with his
+forefinger, and poured out half the contents into a horn mug.  Monty
+stood trembling by.
+
+"Mind," Trent said, "you are a fool to drink it and I am a fool to
+let you!  You risk your life and mine.  Sam has been up and swears
+we must clear out to-morrow.  What sort of form do you think you'll
+be in to walk sixty miles through the swamps and bush, with perhaps
+a score of these devils at our heels?  Come now, old 'un, be
+reasonable."
+
+The veins on the old man's forehead stood out like whipcord.
+
+"I won it," he cried.  "Give it me!  Give it me, I say."
+
+Trent made no further protest.  He walked back to where he had been
+lying and recommenced his Patience.  Monty drank off the contents
+of the tumbler in two long, delicious gulps!  Then he flung the horn
+upon the floor and laughed aloud.
+
+"That's better," he cried, "that's better!  What an ass you are,
+Trent!  To imagine that a drain like that would have any effect at
+all, save to put life into a man!  Bah!  what do you know about it?"
+
+Trent did not raise his head.  He went on with his solitary game
+and, to all appearance, paid no heed to his companion's words.
+Monty was not in the humour to be ignored.  He flung himself on
+the ground opposite to his companion.
+
+"What a slow-blooded sort of creature you are, Trent!" he said.
+"Don't you ever drink, don't you ever take life a little more
+gaily?"
+
+"Not when I am carrying my life in my hands," Trent answered grimly.
+"I get drunk sometimes - when there's nothing on and the blues come
+ - never at a time like this though."
+
+"It is pleasant to hear," the old man remarked, stretching out his
+limbs, "that you do occasionally relax.  In your present frame of
+mind - you will not be offended I trust - you are just a little
+heavy as a companion.  Never mind.  In a year's time I will be
+teaching you how to dine - to drink champagne, to - by the way,
+Trent, have you ever tasted champagne?"
+
+"Never," Trent answered gruffly "Don't know that I want to either."
+
+Monty was compassionate.  "My young friend," he said, "I would give
+my soul to have our future before us, to have your youth and never
+to have tasted champagne.  Phew!  the memory of it is delicious!"
+
+"Why don't you go to bed?" Trent said.  "You'll need all your
+strength to-morrow!"
+
+Monty waved his hand with serene contempt.
+
+"I am a man of humours, my dear friend," he said, "and to-night
+my humour is to talk and to be merry.  What is it the philosophers
+tell us? - that the sweetest joys of life are the joys of
+anticipation.  Here we are, then, on the eve of our triumph - let
+us talk, plan, be happy.  Bah!  how thirsty it makes one!  Come,
+Trent, what stake will you have me set up against that other
+tumblerful of brandy."
+
+"No stake that you can offer," Trent answered shortly.  "That drop
+of brandy may stand between us and death.  Pluck up your courage,
+man, and forget for a bit that there is such a thing as drink."
+
+Monty frowned and looked stealthily across towards the bottle.
+
+"That's all very well, my friend," he said, "but kindly remember
+that you are young, and well, and strong.  I am old, and an invalid.
+I need support.  Don't be hard on me, Trent.  Say fifty again.
+
+"No, nor fifty hundred," Trent answered shortly.  "I don't want your
+money.  Don't be such a fool, or you'll never live to enjoy it."
+
+Monty shuffled on to his feet, and walked aimlessly about the hut.
+Once or twice as he passed the place where the bottle rested, he
+hesitated; at last he paused, his eyes lit up, he stretched out his
+hand stealthily.  But before he could possess himself of it Trent's
+hand was upon his collar.
+
+"You poor fool!" he said; "leave it alone can't you?  You want to
+poison yourself I know.  Well, you can do as you jolly well like
+when you are out of this - not before."
+
+Monty's eyes flashed evil fires, but his tone remained persuasive.
+"Trent," he said, "be reasonable.  Look at me!  I ask you now
+whether I am not better for that last drop.  I tell you that it
+is food and wine to me.  I need it to brace me up for to-morrow.
+Now listen!  Name your own stake!  Set it up against that single
+glass!  I am not a mean man, Trent.  Shall we say one hundred and
+fifty?"
+
+Trent looked at him half scornfully, half deprecatingly.
+
+"You are only wasting your breath, Monty," he said.  "I couldn't
+touch money won in such a way, and I want to get you out of this
+alive.  There's fever in the air all around us, and if either of
+us got a touch of it that drop of brandy might stand between us
+and death.  Don't worry me like a spoilt child.  Roll yourself up
+and get to sleep!  I'll keep watch."
+
+"I will be reasonable," Monty whined.  "I will go to sleep, my
+friend, and worry you no more when I have had just one sip of that
+brandy!  It is the finest medicine in the world for me!  It will
+keep the fever off.  You do not want money you say!  Come, is
+there anything in this world which I possess, or may possess,
+which you will set against that three inches of brown liquid?"
+
+Trent was on the point of an angry negative.  Suddenly he stopped
+ - hesitated - and said nothing Monty's face lit up with sudden
+hope.
+
+"Come," he cried, "there is something I see!  You're the right sort,
+Trent.  Don't be afraid to speak out.  It's yours, man, if you win
+it.  Speak up!"
+
+"I will stake that brandy," Trent answered, "against the picture
+you let fall from your pocket an hour ago."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+For a moment Monty stood as though dazed.  Then the excitement which
+had shone in his face slowly subsided.  He stood quite silent,
+muttering softly to himself, his eyes fixed upon Trent.
+
+"Her picture!  My little girl's picture!  Trent, you're joking,
+you're mad!"
+
+"Am I?" Trent answered nonchalantly.  "Perhaps so!  Anyhow those
+are my terms!  You can play or not as you like!  I don't care."
+
+A red spot burned in Monty's cheeks, and a sudden passion shook him.
+He threw himself upon Trent and would have struck him but that he
+was as a child in the younger man's grasp.  Trent held him at a
+distance easily and without effort.
+
+"There's nothing for you to make a fuss about," he said gruffly.
+"I answered a plain question, that's all.  I don't want to play at
+all.  I should most likely lose, and you're much better without the
+brandy."
+
+Monty was foaming with passion and baffled desire.  "You beast!" he
+cried, "you low, ill-bred cur!  How dared you look at her picture!
+How dare you make me such an offer !  Let me go, I say!  Let me go!"
+
+But Trent did not immediately relax his grasp.  It was evidently not
+safe to let him go.  His fit of anger bordered upon hysterics.
+Presently he grew calmer but more maudlin.  Trent at last released
+him, and, thrusting the bottle of brandy into his coat-pocket,
+returned to his game of Patience.  Monty lay on the ground watching
+him with red, shifty eyes.
+
+"Trent," he whimpered.  But Trent did not answer him.
+
+"Trent, you needn't have been so beastly rough.  My arm is black
+and blue and I am sore all over."
+
+But Trent remained silent.  Monty crept a little nearer.  He was
+beginning to feel a very injured person.  
+
+"Trent," he said, "I'm sorry we've had words.  Perhaps I said more
+than I ought to have done.  I did not mean to call you names.  I
+apologise."
+
+"Granted," Trent said tersely, bending over his game.
+
+"You see, Trent," he went on, "you're not a family man, are you?
+If you were, you would understand.  I've been down in the mire for
+years, an utter scoundrel, a poor, weak, broken-down creature.  But
+I've always kept that picture!  It's my little girl!  She doesn't
+know I'm alive, never will know, but it's all I have to remind me
+of her, and I couldn't part with it, could I?"
+
+"You'd be a blackguard if you did," Trent answered curtly.
+
+Monty's face brightened.
+
+"I was sure," he declared, "that upon reflection you would think so.
+I was sure of it.  I have always found you very fair, Trent, and
+very reasonable.  Now shall we say two hundred?"
+
+"You seem very anxious for a game," Trent remarked.  "Listen, I
+will play you for any amount you like, my I 0 U against your I 0 U.
+Are you agreeable?"
+
+Monty shook his head.  "I don't want your money, Trent," he said.
+"You know that I want that brandy.  I will leave it to you to name
+the stake I am to set up against it."
+
+"As regards that," Trent answered shortly, "I've named the stake;
+I'll not consider any other."
+
+Monty's face once more grew black with anger.
+
+"You are a beast, Trent - a bully!" he exclaimed passionately; "I'll
+not part with it!"
+
+"I hope you won't," Trent answered.  "I've told you what I should
+think of you if you did."
+
+Monty moved a little nearer to the opening of the hut.  He drew the
+photograph hesitatingly from his pocket, and looked at it by the
+moonlight.  His eyes filled with maudlin tears.  He raised it to
+his lips and kissed it.
+
+"My little girl," he whispered.  "My little daughter."  Trent had
+re-lit his pipe and started a fresh game of Patience.  Monty,
+standing in the opening, began to mutter to himself.
+
+"I am sure to win - Trent is always unlucky at cards - such a
+little risk, and the brandy - ah!"
+
+He sucked in his lips for a moment with a slight gurgling sound.
+He looked over his shoulder, and his face grew haggard with longing.
+His eyes sought Trent's, but Trent was smoking stolidly and looking
+at the cards spread out before him, as a chess-player at his pieces.
+
+"Such a very small risk," Monty whispered softly to himself.  "I
+need the brandy too.  I cannot sleep without it!  Trent!"
+
+Trent made no answer.  He did not wish to hear.  Already he had
+repented.  He was not a man of keen susceptibility, but he was a
+trifle ashamed of himself.  At that moment he was tempted to draw
+the cork, and empty the brandy out upon the ground.
+
+"Trent!  Do you hear, Trent?"
+
+He could no longer ignore the hoarse, plaintive cry.  He looked
+unwillingly up.  Monty was standing over him with white, twitching
+face and bloodshot eyes.
+
+"Deal the cards," he muttered simply, and sat down.
+
+Trent hesitated.  Monty misunderstood him and slowly drew the
+photograph from his pocket and laid it face downwards upon the
+table.  Trent bit his lip and frowned.
+
+"Rather a foolish game this," he said.  "Let's call it off, eh?
+You shall have - well, a thimbleful of the brandy and go to bed.
+I'll sit up, I'm not tired."
+
+But Monty swore a very profane and a very ugly oath.
+
+"I'll have the lot," he muttered.  "Every drop; every d - d drop!
+Ay, and I'll keep the picture.  You see, my friend, you see; deal
+the cards."
+
+Then Trent, who had more faults than most men, but who hated bad
+language, looked at the back of the photograph, and, shuddering,
+hesitated no longer.  He shuffled the cards and handed them to
+Monty.
+
+"Your deal," he said laconically.  "Same as before I suppose?"
+
+Monty nodded, for his tongue was hot and his mouth dry, and speech
+was not an easy thing.  But he dealt the cards, one by one with
+jealous care, and when he had finished he snatched upon his own,
+and looked at each with sickly disappointment.
+
+"How many?" Trent asked, holding out the pack.  Monty hesitated,
+half made up his mind to throw away three cards, then put one upon
+the table.  Finally, with a little whine, he laid three down with
+trembling fingers and snatched at the three which Trent handed him.
+His face lit up, a scarlet flush burned in his cheek.  It was
+evident that the draw had improved his hand.
+
+Trent took his own cards up, looked at them nonchalantly, and helped
+himself to one card.  Monty could restrain himself no longer.  He
+threw his hand upon the ground.
+
+"Three's," he cried in fierce triumph, "three of a kind - nines!"
+
+Trent laid his own cards calmly down.
+
+"A full hand," he said, "kings up."
+
+Monty gave a little gasp and then a moan.  His eyes were fixed with
+a fascinating glare upon those five cards which Trent had so calmly
+laid down.  Trent took up the photograph, thrust it carefully into
+his pocket without looking at it, and rose to his feet.
+
+"Look here, Monty," he said, "you shall have the brandy; you've no
+right to it, and you're best without it by long chalks.  But there,
+you shall have your own way."
+
+Monty rose to his feet and balanced himself against the post.
+
+"Never mind - about the brandy," he faltered.  "Give me back the
+photograph."
+
+Trent shrugged his shoulders.  "Why?" he asked coolly.  "Full hand
+beats three, don't it?  It was my win and my stake."
+
+"Then - then take that!"  But the blow never touched Trent.  He
+thrust out his hand and held his assailant away at arm's length.
+
+Monty burst into tears.
+
+"You don't want it," he moaned; "what's my little girl to you?  You
+never saw her, and you never will see her in your life."
+
+"She is nothing to me of course," Trent answered.  "A moment or so
+ago her picture was worth less to you than a quarter of a bottle of
+brandy."
+
+"I was mad," Monty moaned.  "She was my own little daughter, God
+help her!"
+
+"I never heard you speak of her before," Trent remarked.
+
+There was a moment's silence.  Then Monty crept out between the
+posts into the soft darkness, and his voice seemed to come from a
+great distance.
+
+"I have never told you about her," he said, "because she is not the
+sort of woman who is spoken of at all to such men as you.  I am no
+more worthy to be her father than you are to touch the hem of her
+skirt.  There was a time, Trent, many, many years ago, when I was
+proud to think that she was my daughter, my own flesh and blood.
+When I began to go down - it was different.  Down and down and lower
+still!  Then she ceased to be my daughter!  After all it is best.  I
+am not fit to carry her picture.  You keep it.  Trent - you keep it
+ - and give me the brandy."
+
+He staggered up on to his feet and crept back into the hut.  His
+hands were outstretched, claw-like and bony, his eyes were fierce
+as a wild cat's.  But Trent stood between him and the brandy bottle.
+
+"Look here," he said, "you shall have the picture back - curse you!
+But listen.  If I were you and had wife, or daughter, or sweetheart
+like this " - he touched the photograph almost reverently - "why,
+I'd go through fire and water but I'd keep myself decent; ain't you
+a silly old fool, now?  We've made our piles, you can go back and
+take her a fortune, give her jewels and pretty dresses, and all the
+fal-de-lals that women love.  You'll never do it if you muddle
+yourself up with that stuff.  Pull yourself together, old 'un.
+Chuck the drink till we've seen this thing through at any rate!"
+
+"You don't know my little girl," Monty muttered.  "How should you?
+She'd care little for money or gewgaws, but she'd break her heart
+to see her old father - come to this  - broken down  -  worthless
+ -  a hopeless, miserable wretch.  It's too late.  Trent, I'll have
+just a glass I think.  It will do me good.  I have been fretting,
+Trent, you see how pale I am."
+
+He staggered towards the bottle.  Trent watched him, interfering no
+longer.  With a little chuckle of content he seized upon it and,
+too fearful of interference from Trent to wait for a glass, raised
+it to his lips.  There was a gurgling in his throat - a little spasm
+as he choked, and released his lips for a moment.  Then the bottle
+slid from his nerveless fingers to the floor, and the liquor oozed
+away in a little brown stream; even Trent dropped his pack of cards
+and sprang up startled.  For bending down under the sloping roof
+was a European, to all appearance an Englishman, in linen clothes
+and white hat.  It was the man for whom they had waited.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+Trent moved forward and greeted the newcomer awkwardly.  "You're
+Captain Francis," he said.  "We've been waiting for you."
+
+The statement appeared to annoy the Explorer.  He looked nervously
+at the two men and about the hut.
+
+"I don't know how the devil you got to hear of my coming, or what
+you want with me," he answered brusquely.  "Are you both English?"
+
+Trent assented, waving his hand towards his companion in
+introductory fashion.
+
+"That's my pal, Monty," he said.  "We're both English right enough."
+
+Monty raised a flushed face and gazed with bloodshot eyes at the
+man who was surveying him so calmly.  Then he gave a little gurgling
+cry and turned away.  Captain Francis started and moved a step
+towards him.  There was a puzzled look in his face - as though he
+were making an effort to recall something familiar.
+
+"What is the matter with him?" he asked Trent.   
+
+"Drink!"
+
+"Then why the devil don't you see that he doesn't get too much?"
+the newcomer said sharply.  "Don't you know what it means in this
+climate?  Why, he's on the high-road to a fever now.  Who on this
+earth is it he reminds me of?"
+
+Trent laughed shortly.
+
+"There's never a man in Buckomari - no, nor in all Africa - could
+keep Monty from the drink," he said.  "Live with him for a month
+and try it.  It wouldn't suit you - I don't think."
+
+He glanced disdainfully at the smooth face and careful dress of
+their visitor, who bore the inspection with a kindly return of
+contempt.
+
+"I've no desire to try," he said; "but he reminds me very strongly
+of some one I knew in England.  What do you call him - Monty?"
+
+Trent nodded.
+
+"Never heard any other name," he said.
+
+"Have you ever heard him speak of England?" Francis asked.
+
+Trent hesitated.  What was this newcomer to him that he should give
+away his pal?  Less than nothing!  He hated the fellow already, with
+a rough, sensitive man's contempt of a bearing and manners far above
+his own.
+
+"Never.  He don't talk."
+
+Captain Francis moved a step towards the huddled-up figure breathing
+heavily upon the floor, but Trent, leaning over, stopped him.
+
+"Let him be," he said gruffly.  "I know enough of him to be sure
+that he needs no one prying and ferreting into his affairs.  Besides,
+it isn't safe for us to be dawdling about here.  How many soldiers
+have you brought with you?"
+
+"Two hundred," Captain Francis answered shortly.
+
+Trent whistled.
+
+"We're all right for a bit, then," he said; "but it's a pretty sort
+of a picnic you're on, eh?"
+
+"Never mind my business," Captain Francis answered curtly; "what
+about yours?  Why have you been hanging about here for me?"
+
+"I'll show you," Trent answered, taking a paper from his knapsack.
+"You see, it's like this.  There are two places near this show where
+I've found gold.  No use blowing about it down at Buckomari - the
+fellows there haven't the nerve of a kitten.  This cursed climate
+has sapped it all out of them, I reckon.  Monty and I clubbed
+together and bought presents for his Majesty, the boss here, and
+Monty wrote out this little document - sort of concession to us to
+sink mines and work them, you see.  The old buffer signed it like
+winking, directly he spotted the rum, but we ain't quite happy about
+it; you see, it ain't to be supposed that he's got a conscience,
+and there's only us saw him put his mark there.  We'll have to raise
+money to work the thing upon this, and maybe there'll be difficulties.
+So what we thought was this.  Here's an English officer coining;
+let's get him to witness it, and then if the King don't go on the
+square, why, it's a Government matter."
+
+Captain Francis lit a cigarette and smoked thoughtfully for a moment
+or two.
+
+"I don't quite see," he said, "why we should risk a row for the sake
+of you two."
+
+Trent snorted.
+
+"Look here," he said; "I suppose you know your business.  You don't
+want me to tell you that a decent excuse for having a row with this
+old Johnny is about the best thing that could happen to you.  He's
+a bit too near the borders of civilisation to be a decent savage.
+Sooner or later some one will have to take him under their protection.
+If you don't do it, the French will.  They're hanging round now
+looking out for an opportunity.  Listen!
+
+Both men moved instinctively towards the open part of the hut and
+looked across towards the village.  Up from the little open space
+in front of the King's dwelling-house leaped a hissing bright flame;
+they had kindled a fire, and black forms of men, stark naked and
+wounding themselves with spears, danced around it and made the air
+hideous with discordant cries.  The King himself, too drunk to stand,
+squatted upon the ground with an empty bottle by his side.  A breath
+of wind brought a strong, noxious odour to the two men who stood
+watching.  Captain Francis puffed hard at his cigarette.
+
+"Ugh!" he muttered; "beastly!"
+
+"You may take my word for it," Trent said gruffly, "that if your two
+hundred soldiers weren't camped in the bush yonder, you and I and
+poor Monty would be making sport for them to-night.  Now come.  Do
+you think a quarrel with that crew is a serious thing to risk?"
+
+"In the interests of civilisation," Captain Francis answered, with
+a smile, "I think not."
+
+"I don't care how you put it," Trent answered shortly.  "You soldiers
+all prate of the interests of civilisation.  Of course it's all rot.
+You want the land - you want to rule, to plant a flag, and be called
+a patriot."
+
+Captain Francis laughed.  "And you, my superior friend," he said,
+glancing at Trent, gaunt, ragged, not too clean, and back at Monty
+ - " you want gold - honestly if you can get it, if not - well, it
+is not too wise to ask.  Your partnership is a little mysterious,
+isn't it - with a man like that?  Out of your magnificent morality
+I trust that he may get his share."
+
+Trent flushed a brick - red.  An angry answer trembled upon his
+lips, but Oom Sam, white and with his little fat body quivering with
+fear, came hurrying up to them in the broad track of the moonlight.
+
+"King he angry," he called out to them breathlessly.  "Him mad drunk
+angry.  He say white men all go away, or he fire bush and use the
+poisoned arrow.  Me off!  Got bearers waiting."
+
+"If you go before we've finished," Trent said, "I'll not pay you a
+penny.  Please yourself."
+
+The little fat man trembled - partly with rage, partly with fear.
+
+"You stay any longer," he said, "and King him send after you and
+kill on way home.  White English soldiers go Buckomari with you?"
+
+Trent shook his head.
+
+"Going the other way," he said, "down to Wana Hill."
+
+Oom Sam shook his head vigorously.
+
+"Now you mind," he said; "I tell you, King send after you.  Him
+blind mad."
+
+Oom Sam scuttled away.  Captain Francis looked thoughtful.  "That
+little fat chap may be right," he remarked.  "If I were you I'd get
+out of this sharp.  You see, I'm going the other way.  I can't help
+you."
+
+Trent set his teeth.
+
+"I've spent a good few years trying to put a bit together, and this
+is the first chance I've had," he said; "I'm going to have you back
+me as a British subject on that concession.  We'll go down into the
+village now if you're ready."
+
+"I'll get an escort," Francis said.  "Best to impress 'em a bit, I
+think.  Half a minute."
+
+He stepped back into the hut and looked steadfastly at the man who
+was still lying doubled up upon the floor.  Was it his fancy, or
+had those eyes closed swiftly at his turning - was it by accident,
+too, that Monty, with a little groan, changed his position at that
+moment, so that his face was in the shadow?  Captain Francis was
+puzzled.
+
+"It's like him," he said to himself softly; "but after all the
+thing's too improbable!"
+
+He turned away with a shade upon his face and followed Trent out
+into the moonlight.  The screeching from the village below grew
+louder and more hideous every minute.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+The howls became a roar, blind passion was changed into purposeful
+fury.  Who were these white men to march so boldly into the presence
+of the King without even the formality of sending an envoy ahead?
+For the King of Bekwando, drunk or sober, was a stickler for
+etiquette.  It pleased him to keep white men waiting.  For days
+sometimes a visitor was kept waiting his pleasure, not altogether
+certain either as to his ultimate fate, for there were ugly stories
+as to those who had journeyed to Bekwando and never been seen or
+heard of since.  Those were the sort of visitors with whom his ebon
+Majesty loved to dally until they became pale with fright or furious
+with anger and impatience; but men like this white captain, who had
+brought him no presents, who came in overwhelming force and demanded
+a passage through his country as a matter of right were his special
+detestation.  On his arrival he had simply marched into the place
+at the head of his columns of Hausas without ceremony, almost as a
+master, into the very presence of the King.  Now he had come again
+with one of those other miscreants who at least had knelt before him
+and brought rum and many other presents.  A slow, burning, sullen
+wrath was kindled in the King's heart as the three men drew near.
+His people, half-mad with excitement and debauch, needed only a cry
+from him to have closed like magic round these insolent intruders.
+His thick lips were parted, his breath came hot and fierce whilst he
+hesitated.  But away outside the clearing was that little army of
+Hausas, clean-limbed, faithful, well drilled and armed.  He choked
+down his wrath.  There were grim stories about those who had yielded
+to the luxury of slaying these white men - stories of villages razed
+to the ground and destroyed, of a King himself who had been shot, of
+vengeance very swift and very merciless.  He closed his mouth with
+a snap and sat up with drunken dignity.  Oom Sam, in fear and
+trembling, moved to his side.
+
+"What they want?" the King asked.
+
+Oom Sam spread out the document which Trent had handed him upon a
+tree-stump, and explained.  His Majesty nodded more affably.  The
+document reminded him of the pleasant fact that there were three
+casks of rum to come to him every year.  Besides, he rather liked
+scratching his royal mark upon the smooth, white paper.  He was
+quite willing to repeat the performance, and took up the pen which
+Sam handed him readily.
+
+"Him white man just come," Oom Sam explained; "want see you do this."
+
+His Majesty was flattered, and, with the air of one to whom the
+signing of treaties and concessions is an everyday affair, affixed
+a thick, black cross upon the spot indicated.
+
+"That all right?" he asked Oom Sam.
+
+Oom Sam bowed to the ground.
+
+"Him want to know," he said, jerking his head towards Captain
+Francis, "whether you know what means?"
+
+His forefinger wandered aimlessly down the document.  His Majesty's
+reply was prompt and cheerful.
+
+"Three barrels of rum a year."
+
+Sam explained further.  "There will be white men come digging," he
+said; "white men with engines that blow, making holes under the
+ground and cutting trees."
+
+The King was interested.  "Where?" he asked.
+
+Oom Sam pointed westward through the bush.
+
+"Down by creek-side."
+
+The King was thoughtful "Rum come all right?" he asked.
+
+Oom Sam pointed to the papers.
+
+"Say so there," he declared.  "All quite plain."
+
+The King grinned.  It was not regal, but he certainly did it.  If
+white men come too near they must be shot - carefully and from
+ambush.  He leaned back with the air of desiring the conference to
+cease.  Oom Sam turned to Captain Francis.
+
+"King him quite satisfied," he declared.  "Him all explained before
+ - he agree."
+
+The King suddenly woke up again.  He clutched Sam by the arm, and
+whispered in his ear.  This time it was Sam who grinned.
+
+"King, him say him signed paper twice," he explained.  "Him want
+four barrels of rum now."
+
+Trent laughed harshly.
+
+"He shall swim in it, Sam," he said; "he shall float down to hell
+upon it."
+
+Oom Sam explained to the King that, owing to the sentiments of
+affection and admiration with which the white men regarded him,
+the three barrels should be made into four, whereupon his Majesty
+bluntly pronounced the audience at an end and waddled off into his
+Imperial abode.
+
+The two Englishmen walked slowly back to the hut.  Between them
+there had sprung up from the first moment a strong and mutual
+antipathy.  The blunt savagery of Trent, his apparently heartless
+treatment of his weaker partner, and his avowed unscrupulousness,
+offended the newcomer much in the same manner as in many ways he
+himself was obnoxious to Trent.  His immaculate fatigue-uniform,
+his calm superciliousness, his obvious air of belonging to a
+superior class, were galling to Trent beyond measure.  He himself
+felt the difference - he realised his ignorance, his unkempt and
+uncared-for appearance.  Perhaps, as the two men walked side by
+side, some faint foreshadowing of the future showed to Trent another
+and a larger world where they two would once more walk side by side,
+the outward differences between them lessened, the smouldering
+irritation of the present leaping up into the red-hot flame of
+hatred.  Perhaps it was just as well for John Francis that the man
+who walked so sullenly by his side had not the eyes of a seer, for
+it was a wild country and Trent himself had drunk deep of its
+lawlessness.  A little accident with a knife, a carelessly handled
+revolver, and the man who was destined to stand more than once in
+his way would pass out of his life for ever.  But in those days
+Trent knew nothing of what was to come - which was just as well
+for John Francis.
+
+      *           *           *           *            *
+
+Monty was sitting up when they reached the hut, but at the sight
+of Trent's companion he cowered back and affected sleepiness.  This
+time, however, Francis was not to be denied.  He walked to Monty's
+side, and stood looking down upon him.
+
+"I think," he said gently, "that we have met before."
+
+"A mistake," Monty declared.  "Never saw you in my life.  Just off
+to sleep."
+
+But Francis had seen the trembling of the man's lips, and his
+nervously shaking hands.
+
+"There is nothing to fear," he said; "I wanted to speak to you as
+a friend."
+
+"Don't know you; don't want to speak to you," Monty declared.
+
+Francis stooped down and whispered a name in the ear of the sullen
+man.  Trent leaned forward, but he could not hear it - only he too
+saw the shudder and caught the little cry which broke from the white
+lips of his partner.
+
+Monty sat up, white, despairing, with strained, set face and
+bloodshot eyes.
+
+"Look here," he said, "I may be what you say, and I may not.  It's
+no business of yours.  Do you hear?  Now be off and leave me alone!
+Such as I am, I am.  I won't be interfered with.  But - " Monty's
+voice became a shriek.
+
+"Leave me alone!" he cried.  "I have no name I tell you, no past,
+no future.  Let me alone, or by Heaven I'll shoot you!"
+
+Francis shrugged his shoulders, and turned away with a sigh.
+
+"A word with you outside," he said to Trent - and Trent followed
+him out into the night.  The moon was paling - in the east there
+was a faint shimmer of dawn.  A breeze was rustling in the trees.
+The two men stood face to face.
+
+"Look here, sir," Francis said, "I notice that this concession of
+yours is granted to you and your partner jointly whilst alive and
+to the survivor, in case of the death of either of you."
+
+"What then?" Trent asked fiercely.
+
+"This!  It's a beastly unfair arrangement, but I suppose it's too
+late to upset it.  Your partner is half sodden with drink now.  You
+know what that means in this climate.  You've the wit to keep sober
+enough yourself.  You're a strong man, and he is weak.  You must take
+care of him.  You can if you will."
+
+"Anything else?" Trent asked roughly.
+
+The officer looked his man up and down.
+
+"We're in a pretty rough country," he said, "and a man gets into
+the habit of having his own way here.  But listen to me!  If
+anything happens to your partner here or in Buckomari, you'll have
+me to reckon with.  I shall not forget.  We are bound to meet!
+Remember that!"
+
+Trent turned his back upon him in a fit of passion which choked
+down all speech.  Captain Francis lit a cigarette and walked across
+towards his camp.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+A sky like flame, and an atmosphere of sulphur.  No breath of air,
+not a single ruffle in the great, drooping leaves of the African
+trees and dense, prickly shrubs.  All around the dank, nauseous
+odour of poison flowers, the ceaseless dripping of poisonous
+moisture.  From the face of the man who stood erect, unvanquished
+as yet in the struggle for life, the fierce sweat poured like rain
+ - his older companion had sunk to the ground and the spasms of an
+ugly death were twitching at his whitening lips.
+
+"I'm done, Trent," he gasped faintly.  "Fight your way on alone.
+You've a chance yet.  The way's getting a bit easier - I fancy we're
+on the right track and we've given those black devils the slip!
+Nurse your strength!  You've a chance!  Let me be.  It's no use
+carrying a dead man."  Gaunt and wild, with the cold fear of death
+before him also, the younger man broke out into a fit of cursing.
+
+"May they rot in the blackest corner of hell, Oom Sam and those
+miserable vermin!" he shouted.  "A path all the way, the fever
+season over, the swamps dry!  Oh!  when I think of Sam's smooth
+jargon I would give my chance of life, such as it is, to have him
+here for one moment.  To think that beast must live and we
+die!"
+
+"Prop me up against this tree, Trent - and listen," Monty whispered.
+"Don't fritter away the little strength you have left."
+
+Trent did as he was told.  He had no particular affection for his
+partner and the prospect of his death scarcely troubled him.  Yet
+for twenty miles and more, through fetid swamps and poisoned jungles,
+he had carried him over his shoulder, fighting fiercely for the
+lives of both of them, while there remained any chance whatever of
+escape.  Now he knew that it was in vain, he regretted only his
+wasted efforts - he had no sentimental regrets in leaving him.  It
+was his own life he wanted - his own life he meant to fight for.
+
+"I wouldn't swear at Oom Sam too hard," Monty continued.  "Remember
+for the last two days he was doing all he could to get us out of the
+place.  It was those fetish fellows who worked the mischief and he
+ - certainly - warned us all he could.  He took us safely to Bekwando
+and he worked the oracle with the King!"
+
+"Yes, and afterwards sneaked off with Francis," Trent broke in
+bitterly, "and took every bearer with him - after we'd paid them for
+the return journey too.  Sent us out here to be trapped and butchered
+like rats.  If we'd only had a guide we should have been at Buckomari
+by now."
+
+"He was right about the gold," Monty faltered.  It's there for the
+picking up.  If only we could have got back we were rich for life.
+If you escape - you need never do another stroke of work as long as
+you live."
+
+Trent stood upright, wiped the dank sweat from his forehead and
+gazed around him fiercely, and upwards at that lurid little patch
+of blue sky.
+
+"If I escape!" he muttered.  "I'll get out of this if I die walking.
+"I'm sorry you're done, Monty," he continued slowly.  "Say the word
+and I'll have one more spell at carrying you!  You're not a heavy
+weight and I'm rested now!"
+
+But Monty, in whose veins was the chill of death and who sought only
+for rest, shook his head.
+
+"It shakes me too much," he said, "and it's only a waste of strength.
+You get on, Trent, and don't you bother about me.  You've done your
+duty by your partner and a bit more.  You might leave me the small
+revolver in case those howling savages come up  - and Trent!"
+
+"Yes
+
+"The picture - just for a moment.  I'd like to have one look at her!"
+
+Trent drew it out from his pocket - awkwardly - and with a little
+shame at the care which had prompted him to wrap it so tenderly in
+the oilskin sheet.  Monty shaded his face with his hands, and the
+picture stole up to his lips.  Trent stood a little apart and hated
+himself for this last piece of inhumanity.  He pretended to be
+listening for the stealthy approach of their enemies.  In reality
+he was struggling with the feeling which prompted him to leave this
+picture with the dying man.
+
+"I suppose you'd best have it," he said sullenly at last.
+
+But Monty shook his head feebly and held out the picture.
+
+Trent took it with an odd sense of shame which puzzled him.  He was
+not often subject to anything of the sort.
+
+"It belongs to you, Trent.  I lost it on the square, and it's the
+only social law I've never broken - to pay my gambling debts.
+There's one word more!"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It's about that clause in our agreement.  I never thought it was
+quite fair, you know, Trent!"
+
+"Which clause?"
+
+"The clause which - at my death - makes you sole owner of the whole
+concession.  You see - the odds were scarcely even, were they?  It
+wasn't likely anything would happen to you!"
+
+"I planned the thing," Trent said, "and I saw it through!  You did
+nothing but find a bit of brass.  It was only square that the odds
+should be in my favour.  Besides, you agreed.  You signed the thing."
+
+"But I wasn't quite well at the time," Monty faltered.  "I didn't
+quite understand.  No, Trent, it's not quite fair.  I did a bit of
+the work at least, and I'm paying for it with my life!"
+
+"What's it matter to you now?" Trent said, with unintentional
+brutality.  "You can't take it with you."
+
+Monty raised himself a little.  His eyes, lit with feverish fire,
+were fastened upon the other man.
+
+"There's my little girl!" he said hoarsely.  "I'd like to leave her
+something.  If the thing turns out big, Trent, you can spare a small
+share.  There's a letter here!  It's to my lawyers.  They'll tell
+you all about her."
+
+Trent held out his hands for the letter.
+
+"All right," he said, with sullen ungraciousness.  "I'll promise
+something.  I won't say how much!  We'll see."
+
+"Trent, you'll keep your word," Monty begged.  "I'd like her to
+know that I thought of her."
+
+"Oh, very well," Trent declared, thrusting the letter into his
+pocket.  "It's a bit outside our agreement, you know, but I'll see
+to it anyhow.  Anything else?"
+
+Monty fell back speechless.  There was a sudden change in his face.
+Trent, who had seen men die before, let go his hand and turned away
+without any visible emotion.  Then he drew himself straight, and
+set his teeth hard together.
+
+"I'm going to get out of this," he said to himself slowly and with
+fierce emphasis.  "I'm not for dying and I won't die!"
+
+He stumbled on a few steps, a little black snake crept out of its
+bed of mud, and looked at him with yellow eyes protruding from its
+upraised head.  He kicked it savagely away - a crumpled, shapeless
+mass.  It was a piece of brutality typical of the man.  Ahead he
+fancied that the air was clearer - the fetid mists less choking - in
+the deep night-silence a few hours back he had fancied that he had
+heard the faint thunder of the sea.  If this were indeed so, it
+would be but a short distance now to the end of his journey.  With
+dull, glazed eyes and clenched hands, he reeled on.  A sort of
+stupor had laid hold of him, but through it all his brain was
+working, and he kept steadily to a fixed course.  Was it the sea
+in his ears, he wondered, that long, monotonous rolling of sound,
+and there were lights before his eyes - the lights of Buckomari, or
+the lights of death!
+
+They found him an hour or two later unconscious, but alive, on the
+outskirts of the village.
+
+
+Three days later two men were seated face to face in a long wooden
+house, the largest and most important in Buckomari village.
+
+Smoking a corn-cob pipe and showing in his face but few marks of
+the terrible days through which he had passed was Scarlett Trent
+ - opposite to him was Hiram Da Souza, the capitalist of the region.
+The Jew - of Da Souza's nationality it was impossible to have any
+doubt - was coarse and large of his type, he wore soiled linen
+clothes and was smoking a black cigar.  On the little finger of each
+hand, thickly encrusted with dirt, was a diamond ring, on his thick,
+protruding lips a complacent smile.  The concession, already soiled
+and dog-eared, was spread out before them.
+
+It was Da Souza who did most of the talking.  Trent indeed had the
+appearance of a man only indirectly interested in the proceedings.
+
+"You see, my dear sir," Da Souza was saying, "this little concession
+of yours is, after all, a very risky business.  These niggers have
+absolutely no sense honour.  Do I not know it - alas - to my cost?"
+
+Trent listened in contemptuous silence.  Da Souza had made a fortune
+trading fiery rum on the Congo and had probably done more to debauch
+the niggers he spoke of so bitterly than any man in Africa.
+
+"The Bekwando people have a bad name  -  very bad name.  As for any
+sense of commercial honour - my dear Trent, one might as well expect
+diamonds to spring up like mushrooms under our feet."
+
+"The document," Trent said, "is signed by the King and witnessed by
+Captain Francis, who is Agent-General out here, or something of the
+sort, for the English Government.  It was no gift and don't you
+think it, but a piece of hard bartering.  Forty bearers carried our
+presents to Bekwando and it took us three months to get through.
+There is enough in it to make us both millionaires.
+
+"Then why," Da Souza asked, looking up with twinkling eyes, "do you
+want to sell me a share in it?"
+
+"Because I haven't a darned cent to bless myself with," Trent
+answered curtly.  "I've got to have ready money.  I've never had my
+fist on five thousand pounds before - no, nor five thousand pence,
+but, as I'm a living man, let me have my start and I'll hold my own
+with you all."
+
+Da Souza threw himself back m his chair with uplifted hands.
+
+"But my dear friend," he cried, "my dear young friend, you were not
+thinking - do not say that you were thinking of asking such a sum
+as five thousand pounds for this little piece of paper!"
+
+The amazement, half sorrowful, half reproachful, on the man's face
+was perfectly done.  But Trent only snorted.
+
+"That piece of paper, as you call it, cost us the hard savings of
+years, it cost us weeks and months in the bush and amongst the
+swamps - it cost a man's life, not to mention the niggers we lost.
+Come, I'm not here to play skittles.  Are you on for a deal or not?
+If you're doubtful about it I've another market.  Say the word and
+we'll drink and part, but if you want to do business, here are my
+terms.  Five thousand for a sixth share!"
+
+"Sixth share," the Jew screamed, "sixth share?"
+
+Trent nodded.
+
+"The thing's worth a million at least," he said.  "A sixth share
+is a great fortune.  Don't waste any time turning up the whites of
+your eyes at me.  I've named my terms and I shan't budge from them.
+You can lay your bottom dollar on that."
+
+Da Souza took up the document and glanced it through once more.
+
+"The concession," he remarked, "is granted to Scarlett Trent and to
+one Monty jointly.  Who is this Monty, and what has he to say to it?"
+
+Trent set his teeth hard, and he never blenched.
+
+"He was my partner, but he died in the swamps, poor chap.  We had
+horrible weather coming back.  It pretty near finished me."
+
+Trent did not mention the fact that for four days and nights they
+were hiding in holes and up trees from the natives whom the King
+of Bekwando had sent after them, that their bearers had fled away,
+and that they had been compelled to leave the track and make their
+way through an unknown part of the bush.
+
+"But your partner's share," the Jew asked.  "What of that?"
+
+"It belongs to me," Trent answered shortly.  "We fixed it so before
+we started.  We neither of us took much stock in our relations.  If
+I had died, Monty would have taken the lot.  It was a fair deal.
+You'll find it there!"
+
+The Jew nodded.
+
+"And your partner?" he said.  "You saw him die!  There is no doubt
+about that?"
+
+Trent nodded.
+
+"He is as dead," he said, "as Julius Caesar."
+
+"If I offered you - " Da Souza began.
+
+"If you offered me four thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine
+pounds," Trent interrupted roughly, "I would tell you to go to glory."
+
+Da Souza sighed.  It was a hard man to deal with  - this.
+
+"Very well," he said, "if I give way, if I agree to your terms, you
+will be willing to make over this sixth share to me, both on your
+own account and on account of your late partner?"
+
+"You're right, mate," Trent assented.  "Plank down the brass, and
+it's a deal."
+
+"I will give you four thousand pounds for a quarter share," Da
+Souza said.
+
+Trent knocked the ashes from his pipe and stood up.
+
+"Here, don't waste any more of my time," he said.  "Stand out of
+the way, I'm off."
+
+Da Souza kept his hands upon the concession.
+
+"My dear friend," he said, "you are so violent.  You are so abrupt.
+Now listen.  I will give you five thousand for a quarter share.  It
+is half my fortune."
+
+"Give me the concession," Trent said.  "I'm off."
+
+"For a fifth," Da Souza cried.
+
+Trent moved to the door without speech.  Da Souza groaned.
+
+"You will ruin me," he said, "I know it.  Come then, five thousand
+for a sixth share.  It is throwing money away."
+
+"If you think so, you'd better not part," Trent said, still
+lingering in the doorway.  "Just as you say.  I don't care."
+
+For a full minuteDa Souza hesitated.  He had an immense belief in
+the richness of the country set out in the concession; he knew
+probably more about it than Trent himself.  But five thousand pounds
+was a great deal of money and there was always the chance that the
+Government might not back the concession holders in case of trouble.
+He hesitated so long that Trent was actually disappearing before he
+had made up his mind.
+
+"Come back, Mr. Trent," he called out.  "I have decided.  I accept.
+I join with you."
+
+Trent slowly returned.  His manner showed no exultation.
+
+"You have the money here?" he asked.
+
+Da Souza laid down a heap of notes and gold upon the table.  Trent
+counted them carefully and thrust them into his pocket.  Then he
+took up a pen and wrote his name at the foot of the assignment which
+the Jew had prepared.
+
+"Have a drink?" he asked.  
+
+Da Souza shook his head.
+
+"The less we drink in this country," he said, "the better.  I guess
+out here, spirits come next to poison.  I'll smoke with you, if you
+have a cigar handy."
+
+Trent drew a handful of cigars from his pocket.  "They're beastly,"
+he said, "but it's a beastly country.  I'll be glad to turn my back
+on it."
+
+"There is a good deal,"Da Souza said, "which we must now talk
+about."
+
+"To-morrow," Trent said curtly.  "No more now!  I haven't got over
+my miserable journey yet.  I'm going to try and get some sleep."
+
+He swung out into the heavy darkness.  The air was thick with
+unwholesome odours rising from the lake-like swamp beyond the
+drooping circle of trees.  He walked a little way towards the sea,
+and sat down upon a log.  A faint land-breeze was blowing, a
+melancholy soughing came from the edge of the forest only a few
+hundred yards back, sullen, black, impenetrable.  He turned his
+face inland unwillingly, with a superstitious little thrill of
+fear.  Was it a coyote calling, or had he indeed heard the moan
+of a dying man, somewhere back amongst that dark, gloomy jungle?
+He scoffed at himself!  Was he becoming as a girl, weak and timid?
+Yet a moment later he closed his eyes, and pressed his hands tightly
+over his hot eyeballs.  He was a man of little imaginative force,
+yet the white face of a dying man seemed suddenly to have floated
+up out of the darkness, to have come to him like a will-o'-the-wisp
+from the swamp, and the hollow, lifeless eyes seemed ever to be
+seeking his, mournful and eloquent with dull reproach.  Trent rose
+to his feet with an oath and wiped the sweat from his forehead.  He
+was trembling, and he cursed himself heartily.
+
+"Another fool's hour like this," he muttered, "and the fever will
+have me.  Come out of the shadows, you white-faced, skulking reptile,
+you - bah!  what a blithering fool I am!  There is no one there!
+How could there be any one?"
+
+He listened intently.  From afar off came the faint moaning of the
+wind in the forest and the night sounds of restless animals.  Nearer
+there was no one - nothing stirred.  He laughed out loud and moved
+away to spend his last night in his little wooden home.  On the
+threshold he paused, and faced once more that black, mysterious line
+of forest.
+
+"Well, I've done with you now," he cried, a note of coarse exultation
+in his tone.  "I've gambled for my life and I've won.  To-morrow I'll
+begin to spend the stakes."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+In a handsomely appointed room of one of the largest hotels in
+London a man was sitting at the head of a table strewn with
+blotting-paper and writing materials of every description.  Half a
+dozen chairs had been carelessly pushed back, there were empty
+champagne bottles upon the sideboard, the air was faintly odorous
+of tobacco smoke - blue wreaths were still curling upwards towards
+the frescoed ceiling.  Yet the gathering had not been altogether a
+festive one.  There were sheets of paper still lying about covered
+with figures, a brass-bound ledger lay open at the further end of
+the table, In the background a young man, slim, pale, ill-dressed
+in sober black, was filling a large tin box with documents and
+letters.
+
+It had been a meeting of giants.  Men whose names were great in
+the world of finance had occupied those elaborately decorated
+leather chairs.  There had been cynicism, criticism, and finally
+enthusiasm.  For the man who remained it had been a triumph.  He
+had appeared to do but little in the way of persuasion.  His
+manners had been brusque, and his words had been few.  Yet he
+remained the master of the situation.  He had gained a victory not
+only financial but moral, over men whose experience and knowledge
+were far greater than his.  He was no City magnate, nor had he
+ever received any training in those arts and practices which go
+to the making of one.  For his earlier life had been spent in a
+wilder country where the gambling was for life and not merely for
+gold.  It was Scarlett Trent who sat there in thoughtful and
+absorbed silence.  He was leaning a little back in a comfortably
+upholstered chair, with his eyes fixed on a certain empty spot
+upon the table.  The few inches of polished mahogany seemed to him
+ - empty of all significance in themselves - to be reflecting in
+some mysterious manner certain scenes in his life which were now
+very rarely brought back to him.  The event of to-day he knew to
+be the culmination of a success as rapid as it had been surprising.
+He was a millionaire.  This deal to-day, in which he had held his
+own against the shrewdest and most astute men of the great city,
+had more than doubled his already large fortune.  A few years ago
+he had landed in England friendless and unknown, to-day he had
+stepped out from even amongst the chosen few and had planted his
+feet in the higher lands whither the faces of all men are turned.
+With a grim smile upon his lips, he recalled one by one the various
+enterprises into which he had entered, the courage with which he
+had forced them through, the solid strength with which he had thrust
+weaker men to the wall and had risen a little higher towards his
+goal upon the wreck of their fortunes.  Where other men had failed
+he had succeeded.  To-day the triumph was his alone.  He was a
+millionaire - one of the princes of the world!
+
+The young man, who had filled his box and also a black bag, was
+ready to go.  He ventured most respectfully to break in upon the
+reflections of his employer.
+
+"Is there anything more for me to do, sir?"
+
+Trent woke from his day-dream into the present.  He looked around
+the room and saw that no papers had been omitted.  Then he glanced
+keenly into his clerk's face.
+
+"Nothing more," he said.  "You can go."
+
+It was significant of the man that, notwithstanding his hour of
+triumph, he did not depart in the slightest degree from the cold
+gruffness of his tone.  The little speech which his clerk had
+prepared seemed to stick in his throat.
+
+"I trust, sir, that you will forgive - that you will pardon the
+liberty, if I presume to congratulate you upon such a magnificent
+stroke of business!"
+
+Scarlett Trent faced him coldly.  "What do you know about it?" he
+asked.  "What concern is it of yours, young man, eh?"
+
+The clerk sighed, and became a little confused.  He had indulged
+in some wistful hopes that for once his master might have relaxed,
+that an opportune word of congratulation might awaken some spark of
+generosity in the man who had just added a fortune to his great
+store.  He had a girl-wife from whose cheeks the roses were slowly
+fading, and very soon would come a time when a bank-note, even the
+smallest, would be a priceless gift.  It was for her sake he had
+spoken.  He saw now that he had made a mistake.
+
+"I am very sorry, sir," he said humbly.  "Of course I know that
+these men have paid an immense sum for their shares in the Bekwando
+Syndicate.  At the same time it is not my business, and I am sorry
+that I spoke."
+
+"It is not your business at any time to remember what I receive for
+properties," Scarlett Trent said roughly.  "Haven't I told you that
+before?  What did I say when you came to me?  You were to hear
+nothing and see nothing outside your duties!  Speak up, man!  Don't
+stand there like a jay!"
+
+The clerk was pale, and there was an odd sensation in his throat.
+But he thought of his girl-wife and he pulled himself together.
+
+"You are quite right, sir," he said.  "To any one else I should
+never have mentioned it.  But we were alone, and I thought that the
+circumstances might make it excusable."
+
+His employer grunted in an ominous manner.
+
+"When I say forget, I mean forget," he declared.  "I don't want to
+be reminded by you of my own business.  D'ye think I don't know it?"
+
+"I am very sure that you do, sir," the clerk answered humbly.  "I
+quite see that my allusion was an error."
+
+Scarlett Trent had turned round in his chair, and was eying the
+pale, nervous figure with a certain hard disapproval.
+
+"That's a beastly coat you've got on, Dickenson," he said.  "Why
+don't you get a new one?"
+
+"I am standing in a strong light, sir," the young man answered,
+with a new fear at his heart.  "It wants brushing, too.  I will
+endeavour to get a new one - very shortly."
+
+His employer grunted again.
+
+"What's your salary?" he asked.
+
+"Two pounds fifteen shillings a week, sir."
+
+"And you mean to say that you can't dress respectably on that?  What
+do you do with your money, eh?  How do you spend it?  Drink and
+music-halls, I suppose!"
+
+The young man was able at last to find some spark of dignity.  A
+pink spot burned upon his cheeks.
+
+"I do not attend music-halls, sir, nor have I touched wine or
+spirits for years.  I - I have a wife to keep, and perhaps - I
+am expecting - "
+
+He stopped abruptly.  How could he mention that other matter which,
+for all its anxieties, still possessed for him a sort of quickening
+joy in the face of that brutal stare.  He did not conclude his
+sentence, the momentary light died out of his pale commonplace
+features.  He hung his head and was silent.
+
+"A wife," Scarlett Trent repeated with contempt, "and all the rest
+of it of course.  Oh, what poor donkeys you young men are!  Here
+are you, with your way to make in the world, with your foot scarcely
+upon the bottom rung of the ladder, grubbing along on a few bob a
+week, and you choose to go and chuck away every chance you ever might
+have for a moment's folly.  A poor, pretty face I suppose.  A
+moonlight walk on a Bank Holiday, a little maudlin sentiment, and
+over you throw all your chances in life.  No wonder the herd is
+so great, and the leaders so few," he added, with a sneer.
+
+The young man raised his head.  Once more the pink spot was burning.
+Yet how hard to be dignified with the man from whom comes one's
+daily bread.
+
+"You are mistaken, sir," he said.  "I am quite happy and quite
+satisfied."
+
+Scarlett Trent laughed scornfully.
+
+"Then you don't look it," he exclaimed.
+
+"I may not, sir," the young man continued, with a desperate courage,
+"but I am.  After all happiness is spelt with different letters for
+all of us.  You have denied yourself - worked hard, carried many
+burdens and run great risks to become a millionaire.  I too have
+denied myself, have worked and struggled to make a home for the
+girl I cared for.  You have succeeded and you are happy.  I can hold
+Edith's - I beg your pardon, my wife's hand in mine and I am happy.
+I have no ambition to be a millionaire.  I was very ambitious to
+win my wife."
+
+Scarlett Trent looked at him for a moment open mouthed and open-eyed.
+Then he laughed outright and a chill load fell from the heart of
+the man who for a moment had forgotten himself.  The laugh was
+scornful perhaps, but it was not angry.
+
+"Well, you've shut me up," he declared.  "You seem a poor sort of
+a creature to me, but if you're content, it's no business of mine.
+Here buy yourself an overcoat, and drink a glass of wine.  I'm off!"
+
+He rose from his seat and threw a bank-note over the table.  The
+clerk opened it and handed it back with a little start.
+
+"I am much obliged to you, sir," he said humbly, "but you have made
+a mistake.  This note is for fifty pounds."
+
+Trent glanced at it and held out his hand.  Then he paused.
+
+"Never mind," he said, with a short laugh, "I meant to give you a
+fiver, but it don't make much odds.  Only see that you buy some new
+clothes."
+
+The clerk half closed his eyes and steadied himself by grasping the
+back of a chair.  There was a lump in his throat in earnest now.
+
+"You - you mean it, sir?" he gasped.  "I - I'm afraid I can't thank
+you!"
+
+"Don't try, unless you want me to take it back," Trent said,
+strolling to the sideboard.  "Lord, how those City chaps can guzzle!
+Not a drop of champagne left.  Two unopened bottles though!  Here,
+stick 'em in your bag and take 'em to the missis, young man.  I
+paid for the lot, so there's no use leaving any.  Now clear out as
+quick as you can.  I'm off!"
+
+"You will allow me, sir - "
+
+Scarlett Trent closed the door with a slam and disappeared.  The
+young man passed him a few moments later as he stood on the steps
+of the hotel lighting a cigar.  He paused again, intent on
+stammering out some words of thanks.  Trent turned his back upon
+him coldly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+Trent, on leaving the hotel, turned for almost the first time in
+his life westwards.  For years the narrow alleys, the thronged
+streets, the great buildings of the City had known him day by day,
+almost hour by hour.  Its roar and clamour, the strife of tongues
+and keen measuring of wits had been the salt of his life.  Steadily,
+sturdily, almost insolently, he had thrust his way through to the
+front ranks.  In many respects those were singular and unusual
+elements which had gone to the making of his success.  His had
+not been the victory of honied falsehoods, of suave deceit, of
+gentle but legalised robbery.  He had been a hard worker, a daring
+speculator with nerves of iron, and courage which would have
+glorified a nobler cause.  Nor had his been the methods of good
+fellowship, the sharing of "good turns," the camaraderie of finance.
+The men with whom he had had large dealings he had treated as
+enemies rather than friends, ever watching them covertly with close
+but unslackening vigilance.  And now, for the present at any rate
+it was all over.  There had come a pause in his life.  His back was
+to the City and his face was set towards an unknown world.  Half
+unconsciously he had undertaken a little voyage of exploration.
+
+>From the Strand he crossed Trafalgar Square into Pall Mall, and up
+the Haymarket into Piccadilly.  He was very soon aware that he had
+wandered into a world whose ways were not his ways and with whom he
+had no kinship.  Yet he set himself sedulously to observe them,
+conscious that what he saw represented a very large side of life.
+>From the first he was aware of a certain difference in himself and
+his ways.  The careless glance of a lounger on the pavement of Pall
+Mall filled him with a sudden anger.  The man was wearing gloves,
+an article of dress which Trent ignored, and smoking a cigarette,
+which he loathed.  Trent was carelessly dressed in a tweed suit and
+red tie, his critic wore a silk hat and frock coat, patent-leather
+boots, and a dark tie of invisible pattern.  Yet Trent knew that he
+was a type of that class which would look upon him as an outsider,
+and a black sheep, until he had bought his standing.  They would
+expect him to conform to their type, to learn to speak their jargon,
+to think with their puny brains and to see with their short-sighted
+eyes.  At the "Criterion" he turned in and had a drink, and, bolder
+for the wine which he had swallowed at a gulp, he told himself that
+he would do nothing of the sort.  He would not alter a jot.  They
+must take him as he was, or leave him.  He suffered his thoughts to
+dwell for a moment upon his wealth, on the years which had gone to
+the winning of it, on a certain nameless day, the memory of which
+even now sent sometimes the blood running colder through his veins,
+on the weaker men who had gone under that he might prosper.  Now
+that it was his, he wanted the best possible value for it; it was
+the natural desire of the man to be uppermost in the bargain.  The
+delights of the world behind, it seemed to him that he had already
+drained.  The crushing of his rivals, the homage of his less
+successful competitors, the grosser pleasures of wine, the
+music-halls, and the unlimited spending of money amongst people
+whom he despised had long since palled upon him.  He had a keen,
+strong desire to escape once and for ever from his surroundings.
+He lounged along, smoking a large cigar, keen-eyed and observant,
+laying up for himself a store of impressions, unconsciously
+irritated at every step by a sense of ostracism, of being in some
+indefinable manner without kinship and wholly apart from this world,
+in which it seemed natural now that he should find some place.  He
+gazed at the great houses without respect or envy, at the men with
+a fierce contempt, at the women with a sore feeling that if by
+chance he should be brought into contact with any of them they
+would regard him as a sort of wild animal, to be hurnoured or
+avoided purely as a matter of self-interest.  The very brightness
+and brilliancy of their toilettes, the rustling of their dresses,
+the trim elegance and daintiness which he was able to appreciate
+without being able to understand, only served to deepen his
+consciousness of the gulf which lay between him and them.  They
+were of a world to which, even if he were permitted to enter it,
+he could not possibly belong.  He returned such glances as fell
+upon him with fierce insolence; he was indeed somewhat of a
+strange figure in his ill-fitting and inappropriate clothes amongst
+a gathering of smart people.  A lady looking at him through raised
+lorgnettes turned and whispered something with a smile to her
+companion - once before he had heard an audible titter from a
+little group of loiterers.  He returned the glance with a
+lightning-like look of diabolical fierceness, and, turning round,
+stood upon the curbstone and called a hansom.
+
+A sense of depression swept over him as he was driven through the
+crowded streets towards Waterloo.  The half-scornful, half-earnest
+prophecy, to which he had listened years ago in a squalid African
+hut, flashed into his mind.  For the first time he began to have
+dim apprehensions as to his future.  All his life he had been a
+toiler, and joy had been with him in the fierce combat which he had
+waged day by day.  He had fought his battle and he had won - where
+were the fruits of his victory?  A puny, miserable little creature
+like Dickenson could prate of happiness and turn a shining face to
+the future - Dickenson who lived upon a pittance, who depended upon
+the whim of his employer, and who confessed to ambitions which
+were surely pitiable.  Trent lit a fresh cigar and smiled; things
+would surely come right with him - they must.  What Dickenson could
+gain was surely his by right a thousand times over.
+
+He took the train for Walton, travelling first class, and treated
+with much deference by the officials on the line.  As he alighted
+and passed through the booking-hall into the station-yard a voice
+hailed him.  He looked up sharply.  A carriage and pair of horses
+was waiting, and inside a young woman with a very smart hat and a
+profusion of yellow hair.
+
+"Come on, General," she cried.  "I've done a skip and driven down
+to meet you.  Such jokes when they miss me.  The old lady will be
+as sick as they make 'em.  Can't we have a drive round for an hour,
+eh?"
+
+Her voice was high-pitched and penetrating.  Listening to it Trent
+unconsciously compared it with the voices of the women of that
+other world into which he had wandered earlier in the afternoon.
+He turned a frowning face towards her.
+
+"You might have spared yourself the trouble," he said shortly.  "I
+didn't order a carriage to meet me and I don't want one.  I am
+going to walk home."
+
+She tossed her head.
+
+"What a beastly temper you're in!" she remarked.  "I'm not
+particular about driving.  Do you want to walk alone?"
+
+"Exactly!" he answered.  "I do!"
+
+She leaned back in the carriage with heightened colour.
+
+"Well, there's one thing about me," she said acidly.  "I never go
+where I ain't wanted."
+
+Trent shrugged his shoulders and turned to the coachman.
+
+"Drive home, Gregg," he said.  "I'm walking."
+
+The man touched his hat, the carriage drove off, and Trent, with a
+grim smile upon his lips, walked along the dusty road.  Soon he
+paused before a little white gate marked private, and, unlocking
+it with a key which he took from his pocket, passed through a
+little plantation into a large park-like field.  He took off his hat
+and fanned himself thoughtfully as he walked.  The one taste which
+his long and absorbing struggle with the giants of Capel Court had
+never weakened was his love for the country.  He lifted his head
+to taste the breeze which came sweeping across from the Surrey Downs,
+keenly relishing the fragrance of the new-mown hay and the faint
+odour of pines from the distant dark-crested hill.  As he came up
+the field towards the house he looked with pleasure upon the great
+bed of gorgeous-coloured rhododendrons which bordered his lawn, the
+dark cedars which drooped over the smooth shaven grass, and the
+faint flush of colour from the rose-gardens beyond.  The house
+itself was small, but picturesque.  It was a grey stone building of
+two stories only, and from where he was seemed completely embowered
+in flowers and creepers.  In a way, he thought, he would be sorry
+to leave it.  It had been a pleasant summer-house for him, although
+of course it was no fit dwelling-house for a millionaire.  He must
+look out for something at once now - a country house and estate.
+All these things would come as a matter of course.
+
+He opened another gate and passed into an inner plantation of pines
+and shrubs which bordered the grounds.  A winding path led through
+it, and, coming round a bend, he stopped short with a little
+exclamation.  A girl was standing with her back to him rapidly
+sketching upon a little block which she had in her left hand.
+
+"Hullo!" he remarked, "another guest!  and who brought you down,
+young lady, eh?"
+
+She turned slowly round and looked at him in cold surprise.  Trent
+knew at once that he had made a mistake.  She was plainly dressed
+in white linen and a cool muslin blouse, but there was something
+about her, unmistakable even to Trent, which placed her very far
+apart indeed from any woman likely to have become his unbidden
+guest.  He knew at once that she was one of that class with whom
+he had never had any association.  She was the first lady whom he
+had ever addressed, and he could have bitten out his tongues when
+he remembered the form of his doing so.
+
+"I beg your pardon, miss," he said confusedly, "my mistake!  You
+see, your back was turned to me."
+
+She nodded and smiled graciously.
+
+"If you are Mr. Scarlett Trent," she said, "it is I who should
+apologise, for I am a flagrant trespasser.  You must let me explain."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+The girl had moved a step towards him as she spoke, and a gleam of
+sunlight which had found its way into the grove flashed for a moment
+on the. stray little curls of her brown-gold hair and across her
+face.  Her lips were parted in a delightful smile; she was very
+pretty, and inclined to be apologetic.  But Scarlett Trent had seen
+nothing save that first glance when the sun had touched her face
+with fire.  A strong man at all times, and more than commonly
+self-masterful, he felt himself now as helpless as a child.  A
+sudden pallor had whitened his face to the lips, there were strange
+singings in his ears, and a mist before his eyes.  It was she!
+There was no possibility of any mistake.  It was the girl for whose
+picture he had gambled in the hut at Bekwando - Monty's baby-girl,
+of whom he had babbled even in death.  He leaned against a tree,
+stricken dumb, and she was frightened.  "You are ill," she cried.
+"I'm so sorry.  Let me run to the house and fetch some one!"
+
+He had strength enough to stop her.  A few deep breaths and he was
+himself again, shaken and with a heart beating like a steam-engine,
+but able at least to talk intelligently.
+
+"I'm sorry - didn't mean to frighten you," he said.  "It's the heat.
+I get an attack like this sometimes.  Yes, I'm Mr. Trent.  I don't
+know what you're doing here, but you're welcome."
+
+"How nice of you to say so!" she answered brightly.  "But then
+perhaps you'll change your mind when you know what I have been
+doing."
+
+He laughed shortly.
+
+"Nothing terrible, I should say.  "Looks as though you've been
+making a picture of my house; I don't mind that."
+
+She dived in her pocket and produced a card-case.
+
+"I'll make full confession," she said frankly.  "I'm a journalist."
+
+"A what!" he repeated feebly.
+
+"A journalist.  I'm on the Hour.  This isn't my work as a rule; but
+the man who should have come is ill, and his junior can't sketch,
+so they sent me!  Don't look as though I were a ghost, please.
+Haven't you ever heard of a girl journalist before?"
+
+"Never," he answered emphatically.  "I didn't know that ladies did
+such things!"
+
+She laughed gaily but softly; and Trent understood then what was
+meant by the music of a woman's voice.
+
+"Oh, it's not at all an uncommon thing," she answered him.  "You
+won't mind my interviewing you, will you?"
+
+"Doing what?" he asked blankly.
+
+"Interviewing you!  That's what I've come for, you know; and we want
+a little sketch of your house for the paper.  I know you don't like
+it.  I hear you've been awfully rude to poor little Morrison of the
+Post; but I'll be very careful what I say, and very quick."
+
+He stood looking at her, a dazed and bewildered man.  From the trim
+little hat, with its white band and jaunty bunch of cornflowers, to
+the well-shaped patent shoes, she was neatly and daintily dressed.
+A journalist!  He gazed once more into her face, at the brown eyes
+watching him now a little anxiously, the mouth with the humorous
+twitch at the corner of her lips.  The little wisps of hair flashed
+again in the sunlight.  It was she!  He had found her.
+
+She took his silence for hesitation, and continued a little anxiously.
+
+"I really won't ask you many questions, and it would do me quite a
+lot of good to get an interview with you.  Of course I oughtn't to
+have begun this sketch without permission.  If you mind that, I'll
+give it up."
+
+He found his tongue awkwardly, but vigorously.
+
+"You can sketch just as long as ever you please, and make what use of
+it you like," he said.  "It's only a bit of a place though!"
+
+"How nice of you!  And the interview?"
+
+"I'll tell you whatever you want to know," he said quietly.
+
+She could scarcely believe in her good fortune, especially when she
+remembered the description of the man which one of the staff had
+given.  He was gruff, vulgar, ill-tempered; the chief ought to be
+kicked for letting her go near him!  This was what she had been
+told.  She laughed softly to herself.
+
+"It is very good indeed of you, Mr. Trent," she said earnestly.  "I
+was quite nervous about coming, for I had no idea that you would be
+so kind.  Shall I finish my sketch first, and then perhaps you will
+be able to spare me a few minutes for the interview?"
+
+"Just as you like," he answered.  "May I look at it?"
+
+"Certainly," she answered, holding out the block; "but it isn't half
+finished yet."
+
+"Will it take long?"
+
+"About an hour, I think."
+
+"You are very clever," he said, with a little sigh.
+
+She laughed outright.
+
+"People are calling you the cleverest man in London to-day," she
+said.
+
+"Pshaw!  It isn't the cleverness that counts for anything that makes
+money."
+
+Then he set his teeth hard together and swore vigorously but
+silently.  She had become suddenly interested in her work.  A shrill
+burst of laughter from the lawn in front had rung sharply out,
+startling them both.  A young woman with fluffy hair and in a pale
+blue dinner-dress was dancing to an unseen audience.  Trent's eyes
+flashed with anger, and his cheeks burned.  The dance was a
+music-hall one, and the gestures were not refined.  Before he could
+stop himself an oath had broken from his lips.  After that he dared
+not even glance at the girl by his side.
+
+"I'm very sorry," he muttered.  "I'll stop that right away."
+
+"You mustn't disturb your friends on my account," she said quietly.
+She did not look up, but Trent felt keenly the alteration in her
+manner.
+
+"They're not my friends," he exclaimed passionately "I'll clear them
+out neck and crop."
+
+She looked up for a moment, surprised at his sudden vehemence.  There
+was no doubt about his being in earnest.  She continued her work
+without looking at him, but her tone when she spoke was more friendly.
+
+"This will take me a little longer than I thought to finish properly,"
+she said.  "I wonder might I come down early to-morrow morning?  What
+time do you leave for the City?"
+
+"Not until afternoon, at any rate," he said.  "Come to-morrow,
+certainly  -  whenever you like.  You needn't be afraid of that rabble.
+I'll see you don't have to go near them."
+
+"You must please not make any difference or alter your arrangements
+on my account," she said.  "I am quite used to meeting all sorts of
+people in my profession, and I don't object to it in the least.
+Won't you go now?  I think that that was your dinner-bell."
+
+He hesitated, obviously embarrassed but determined.  "There is one
+question," he said, "which I should very much like to ask you.  It
+will sound impertinent.  I don't mean it so.  I can't explain
+exactly why I want to know, but I have a reason."
+
+"Ask it by all means," she said.  "I'll promise that I'll answer it
+if I can."
+
+"You say that you are - a journalist.  Have you taken it up for a
+pastime, or - to earn money?"
+
+"To earn money by all means," she answered, laughing.  "I like the
+work, but I shouldn't care for it half so much if I didn't make my
+living at it.  Did you think that I was an amateur?"
+
+"I didn't know," he answered slowly.  "Thank you.  You will come
+to-morrow?"
+
+"Of course!  Good evening."
+
+"Good evening."
+
+Trent lifted his hat, and turned away unwillingly towards the house,
+full of a sense that something wonderful had happened to him.  He was
+absent-minded, but he stopped to pat a little dog whose attentions he
+usually ignored, and he picked a creamy-white rose as he crossed the
+lawn and wondered why it should remind him of her.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+Trent's appearance upon the lawn was greeted with a shout of
+enthusiasm.  The young lady in blue executed a pas seut, and came
+across to him on her toes, and the girl with the yellow hair,
+although sulky, gave him to understand by a sidelong glance that
+her favour was not permanently withdrawn.  They neither of the
+noticed the somewhat ominous air of civility with which he received
+their greetings, or the contempt in his eyes as he looked them
+silently over.
+
+"Where are the lost tribe?" he inquired, as the girls, one on
+either side, escorted him to the house.
+
+They received his witticism with a piercing shriek of laughter.
+
+"Mamma and her rag of a daughter are in the drawing room," explained
+Miss Montressor - the young lady with fluffy hair who dressed in
+blue and could dance.  "Such a joke, General!  They don't approve
+of us!  Mamma says that she shall have to take her Julie away if we
+remain.  We are not fit associates for her.  Rich, isn't it!  The
+old chap's screwing up his courage now with brandy and soda to tell
+you so!
+
+Trent laughed heartily.  The situation began to appeal to him.
+There was humour in it which he alone could appreciate.
+
+"Does he expect me to send you away?" he asked.
+
+"That's a cert!" Miss Montressor affirmed.  "The old woman's been
+playing the respectable all day, turning up the whites of her eyes
+at me because I did a high kick in the hall, and groaning at Flossie
+because she had a few brandies; ain't that so, Flossie?"
+
+The young lady with yellow hair confirmed the statement with much
+dignity.
+
+"I had a toothache," she said, "and Mrs. Da Souza, or whatever the
+old cat calls herself, was most rude.  I reckon myself as respectable
+as she is any day, dragging that yellow-faced daughter of hers about
+with her and throwing her at men's heads."
+
+Miss Montressor, who had stopped to pick a flower, rejoined them.
+
+"I say, General," she remarked, "fair's fair, and a promise is a
+promise.  We didn't come down here to be made fools of by a fat old
+Jewess.  You won't send us away because of the old wretch?"
+
+"I promise," said Trent, "that when she goes you go, and not before.
+Is that sufficient?"
+
+"Right oh!" the young lady declared cheerfully.  "Now you go and
+prink up for dinner.  We're ready, Flossie and I.  The little Jew
+girl's got a new dress - black covered with sequins.  It makes her
+look yellower than ever.  There goes the bell, and we're both as
+hungry as hunters.  Look sharp!"
+
+Trent entered the house.  Da Souza met him in the hall, sleek,
+curly, and resplendent in a black dinner-suit.  The years had dealt
+lightly with him, or else the climate of England was kinder to his
+yellow skin than the moist heat of the Gold Coast.  He greeted Trent
+with a heartiness which was partly tentative, partly boisterous.
+
+"Back from the coining of the shekels, my dear friend," he
+exclaimed.  "Back from the spoiling of the Egyptians, eh?  How was
+money to-day?"
+
+"An eighth easier," Trent answered, ascending the stairs.
+
+Da Souza fidgeted about with the banisters, and finally followed
+him.
+
+"There was just a word," he remarked, "a little word I wanted with
+you."
+
+"Come and talk while I wash," Trent said shortly.  "Dinner's on,
+and I'm hungry."
+
+"Certainly, certainly," Da Souza murmured, closing the door behind
+them as they entered the lavatory.  "It is concerning these young
+ladies."
+
+"What!  Miss Montressor and her friend?" Trent remarked thrusting
+his head into the cold water.  "Phew!"
+
+"Exactly!  Two very charming young ladies, my dear friend, very
+charming indeed, but a little - don't you fancy just a little fast!"
+
+"Hadn't noticed it," Trent answered, drying himself.  "What about
+it?"
+
+Da Souza tugged at his little black imperial, and moved uneasily
+about.
+
+"We - er - men of the world, my dear Trent, we need not be so
+particular, eh? - but the ladies - the ladies are so observant."
+
+"What ladies?" Trent asked coolly.
+
+"It is my wife who has been talking to me," Da Souza continued.
+"You see, Julie is so young - our dear daughter she is but a child;
+and, as my wife says, we cannot be too particular, too careful, eh;
+you understand!"
+
+"You want them to go?  Is that it?"
+
+Da Souza spread out his hands - an old trick, only now the palms
+were white and the diamonds real.
+
+"For myself," he declared, "I find them charming.  It is my wife
+who says to me, 'Hiram, those young persons, they are not fit
+company for our dear, innocent Julie!  You shall speak to Mr. Trent.
+He will understand!'  Eh?"
+
+Trent had finished his toilet and stood, the hairbrushes still in
+his hands, looking at Da Souza's anxious face with a queer smile
+upon his lips.
+
+"Yes, I understand, Da Souza," he said.  "No doubt you are right,
+you cannot be too careful.  You do well to be particular."
+
+Da Souza winced.  He was about to speak, but Trent interrupted him.
+
+"Well, I'll tell you this, and you can let the missis know, my fond
+father.  They leave to-morrow.  Is that good enough?"
+
+Da Souza caught at his host's hand, but Trent snatched it away.
+
+"My dear - my noble - "
+
+"Here, shut up and don't paw me," Trent interrupted.  "Mind, not a
+word of this to any one but your wife; the girls don't know they're
+going themselves yet."
+
+They entered the dining-room, where every one else was already
+assembled.  Mrs. Da Souza, a Jewess portly and typical, resplendent
+in black satin and many gold chains and bangles, occupied the seat
+of honour, and by her side was a little brown girl, with dark,
+timid eyes and dusky complexion, pitiably over-dressed but with a
+certain elf-like beauty, which it was hard to believe that she
+could ever have inherited.  Miss Montressor and her friend sat on
+either side of their host - an arrangement which Mrs. Da Souza
+lamented, but found herself powerless to prevent, and her husband
+took the vacant place.  Dinner was served, and with the opening of
+the champagne, which was not long delayed, tongues were loosened.
+
+"It was very hot in the City to-day," Mrs. Da Souza remarked to her
+host.  "Dear Ju1ie was saying what a shame it seemed that you
+should be there and we should be enjoying your beautiful gardens.
+She is so thoughtful, so sympathetic!  Dear girl!"
+
+"Very kind of your daughter," Trent answered, looking directly at
+her and rather inclined to pity her obvious shyness.  "Come, drink
+up, Da Souza, drink up, girls!  I've had a hard day and I want to
+forget for a bit that there's any such thing as work."
+
+Miss Montressor raised her glass and winked at her host.
+
+"It don't take much drinking, this, General," she remarked, cheerily
+draining her glass!  "Different to the 'pop' they give us down at
+the 'Star,' eh, Flossie?  Good old gooseberry I call that!"
+
+"Da Souza, look after Miss Flossie," Trent said.  "Why don't you
+fill her glass?  That's right!"
+
+"Hiram!"
+
+Da Souza removed his hand from the back of his neighbour's chair
+and endeavoured to look unconscious.  The girl tittered - Mrs. Da
+Souza was severely dignified.  Trent watched them all, half in
+amusement, half in disgust.  What a pandemonium!  It was time
+indeed for him to get rid of them all.  From where he sat he could
+see across the lawn into the little pine plantation.  It was still
+light-if she could look in at the open window what would she think?
+His cheeks burned, and he thrust the hand which was seeking his
+under the table savagely away.  And then an idea flashed in upon
+him - a magnificent, irresistible idea.  He drank off a glass of
+champagne and laughed loud and long at one of his neighbour's silly
+sayings.  It was a glorious joke!  The more he thought of it, the
+more he liked it.  He called for more champagne, and all, save the
+little brown girl, greeted the magnum which presently appeared with
+cheers.  Even Mrs. Da Souza unbent a little towards the young women
+against whom she had declared war.  Faces were flushed and voices
+grew a little thick.  Da Souza's arm unchidden sought once more the
+back of his neighbour's chair, Miss Montressor's eyes did their
+utmost to win a tender glance from their lavish host.  Suddenly
+Trent rose to his feet.  He held a glass high over his head.  His
+face was curiously unmoved, but his lips were parted in an
+enigmatic smile.
+
+"A toast, my friends!" he cried.  "Fill up, the lot of you!  Come!
+To our next meeting!  May fortune soon smile again, and may I have
+another home before long as worthy a resting-place for you as this!
+
+Bewilderment reigned.  No one offered to drink the toast.  It was
+Miss Montressor who asked the question which was on every one's
+lips.
+
+"What's up?" she exclaimed.  "What's the matter with our next
+meeting here to-morrow night, and what's all that rot about your
+next home and fortune?"
+
+Trent looked at them all in well-simulated amazement.
+
+"Lord!" he exclaimed, "you don't know - none of you!  I thought Da 
+Souza would have told you the news!"
+
+"What news?" Da Souza cried, his beady eyes protuberant, and his
+glass arrested half-way to his mouth.
+
+"What are you talking about, my friend?"
+
+Trent set down his glass.
+
+"My friends," he said unsteadily, "let me explain to you, as shortly
+as I can, what an uncertain position is that of a great financier."
+
+Da Souza leaned across the table.  His face was livid, and the
+corners of his eyes were bloodshot.
+
+"I thought there was something up," he muttered.  "You would not
+have me come into the City this morning.  D--n it, you don't mean
+that you - "
+
+"I'm bust!" Trent said roughly.  "Is that plain enough?  I've been
+bulling on West Australians, and they boomed and this afternoon the
+Government decided not to back us at Bekwando, and the mines are
+to be shut down.  Tell you all about it if you like."
+
+No one wanted to hear all about it.  They shrunk from him as though
+he were a robber.  Only the little brown girl was sorry, and she
+looked at him with dark, soft eyes.
+
+"I've given a bill of sale here," Trent continued.  "They'll be
+round to-morrow.  Better pack to-night.  These valuers are such
+robbers.  Come, another bottle!  It'll all have to be sold.  We'll
+make a night of it."
+
+Mrs. Da Souza rose and swept from the room - Da Souza had fallen
+forward with his head upon his hands.  He was only half sober, but
+the shock was working like madness in his brain.  The two girls,
+after whispering together for a moment, rose and followed Mrs. Da
+Souza.  Trent stole from his place and out into the garden.  With
+footsteps which were steady enough now he crossed the velvety
+lawns, and plunged into the shrubbery.  Then he began to laugh
+softly as he walked.  They were all duped!  They had accepted
+his story without the slightest question.  He leaned over the gate
+which led into the little plantation, and he was suddenly grave
+and silent.  A night-wind was blowing fragrant and cool.  The
+dark boughs of the trees waved to and fro against the background
+of deep blue sky.  The lime leaves rustled softly, the perfume of
+roses came floating across from the flower-gardens.  Trent stood
+quite still, listening and thinking.
+
+"God!  what a beast I am!" he muttered.  "It was there she sat!
+I'm not fit to breathe the same air."
+
+He looked back towards the house.  The figures of the two girls,
+with Da Souza standing now between them, were silhouetted against
+the window.  His face grew dark and fierce.
+
+"Faugh!" he exclaimed, "what a kennel I have made of my house!
+What a low-down thing I have begun to make of life!  Yet - I was
+a beggar - and I am a millionaire.  Is it harder to change oneself?
+To-morrow" - he looked hard at the place where she had sat - 
+"to-morrow I will ask her!"
+
+On his way back to the house a little cloaked figure stepped out
+from behind a shrub.  He looked at her in amazement.  It was the
+little brown girl, and her eyes were wet with tears.
+
+"Listen," she said quickly.  "I have been waiting to speak to you!
+I want to say goodbye and to thank you.  I am very, very sorry, and
+I hope that some day very soon you will make some more money and be
+happy again."
+
+Her lips were quivering.  A single glance into her face assured him
+of her honesty.  He took the hand which she held out and pressed her
+fingers.
+
+"Little Julie," he said, "you are a brick.  Don't you bother about
+me.  It isn't quite so bad as I made out - only don't tell your
+mother that."
+
+"I'm very glad," she murmured.  "I think that it is hateful of them
+all to rush away, and I made up my mind to say goodbye however
+angry it made them.  Let me go now, please.  I want to get back
+before mamma misses me."
+
+He passed his arm around her tiny waist.  She looked at him with
+frightened eyes.
+
+"Please let me go," she murmured.
+
+He kissed her lips, and a moment afterwards vaguely repented it.
+She buried her face in her hands and ran away sobbing.  Trent lit
+a cigar and sat down upon a garden seat.
+
+"It's a queer thing," he said reflectingly.  "The girl's been
+thrown repeatedly at my head for a week and I might have kissed her
+at any moment, before her father and mother if I had liked, and
+they'd have thanked me.  Now I've done it I'm sorry.  She looked
+prettier than I've ever seen her too - and she's the only decent
+one of the lot.  Lord!  what a hubbub there'll be in the morning!"
+
+The stars came out and the moon rose, and still Scarlett Trent
+lingered in the scented darkness.  He was a man of limited
+imagination and little given to superstitions.  Yet that night
+there came to him a presentiment.  He felt that he was on the
+threshold of great events.  Something new in life was looming up
+before him.  He had cut himself adrift from the old - it was a
+very wonderful and a very beautiful figure which was beckoning
+him to follow in other paths.  The triumph of the earlier part of
+the day seemed to lie far back in a misty and unimportant past.
+There was a new world and a greater, if fortune willed that he
+should enter it.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+Trent was awakened next morning by the sound of carriage wheels in
+the drive below.  He rang his bell at once.  After a few moments'
+delay it was answered by one of his two men-servants.
+
+"Whose carriage is that in the drive?" he asked.  "It is a fly for
+Mr. Da Souza, sir."
+
+"What!  has he gone?" Trent exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, sir, he and Mrs. Da Souza and the young lady."
+
+"And Miss Montressor and her friend?"
+
+"They shared the fly, sir.  The luggage all went down in one of the
+carts."
+
+Trent laughed outright, half scornfully, half in amusement.
+
+"Listen, Mason," he said, as the sound of wheels died away.  "If
+any of those people come back again they are not to be admitted
+ - do you hear?  if they bring their luggage you are not to take
+it in.  If they come themselves you are not to allow them to enter
+the house.  You understand that?"
+
+"Yes, sir.
+
+"Very good!  Now prepare my bath at once, and tell the cook,
+breakfast in half an hour.  Let her know that I am hungry.
+Breakfast for one, mind!  Those fools who have just left will get
+a morning paper at the station and they may come back.  Be on the
+look-out for them and let the other servants know.  Better have
+the lodge gate locked."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+The man who had been lamenting the loss of an easy situation and
+possibly even a month's wages, hastened to spread more reassuring
+news in the lower regions.  It was a practical joke of the governor's
+ - very likely a ruse to get rid of guests who had certainly been
+behaving as though the Lodge was their permanent home.  There was a
+chorus of thanksgiving.  Groves, the butler, who read the money
+articles in the Standard every morning with solemn interest and who
+was suspected of investments, announced that from what he could make
+out the governor must have landed a tidy little lump yesterday.
+Whereupon the cook set to work to prepare a breakfast worthy of the
+occasion.
+
+Trent had awakened with a keen sense of anticipated pleasure.  A
+new and delightful interest had entered into his life.  It is true
+that, at times, it needed all his strength of mind to keep his
+thoughts from wandering back into that unprofitable and most
+distasteful past - in the middle of the night even, he had woke up
+suddenly with an old man's cry in his ears - or was it the whispering
+of the night-wind in the tall elms?  But he was not of an imaginative
+nature.  He felt himself strong enough to set his heel wholly upon
+all those memories.  If he had not erred on the side of generosity,
+he had at least played the game fairly.  Monty, if he had lived, could
+only have been a disappointment and a humiliation.  The picture was
+hers - of that he had no doubt!  Even then he was not sure that Monty
+was her father.  In any case she would never know.  He recognised no
+obligation on his part to broach the subject.  The man had done his
+best to cut himself altogether adrift from his former life.  His
+reasons doubtless had been sufficient.  It was not necessary to pry
+into them - it might even be unkindness.  The picture, which no man
+save himself had ever seen, was the only possible link between the
+past and the present - between Scarlett Trent and his drunken old
+partner, starved and fever-stricken, making their desperate effort for
+wealth in unknown Africa, and the millionaire of to-day.  The picture
+remained his dearest possession - but, save his own, no other eyes
+had ever beheld it.
+
+He dressed with more care than usual, and much less satisfaction.
+He was a man who rather prided himself upon neglecting his
+appearance, and, so far as the cut and pattern of his clothes went,
+he usually suggested the artisan out for a holiday.  To-day for the
+first time he regarded his toilet with critical and disparaging
+eyes.  He found the pattern of his tweed suit too large, and the
+colour too pronounced, his collars were old-fashioned and his ties
+hideous.  It was altogether a new experience with him, this
+self-dissatisfaction and sensitiveness to criticism, which at any
+other time he would have regarded with a sort of insolent
+indifference.  He remembered his walk westward yesterday with a
+shudder, as though indeed it had been a sort of nightmare, and
+wondered whether she too had regarded him with the eyes of those
+loungers on the pavement - whether she too was one of those who
+looked for a man to conform to the one arbitrary and universal type.
+Finally he tied his necktie with a curse, and went down to breakfast
+with little of his good-humour left.
+
+The fresh air sweeping in through the long, open windows, the
+glancing sunlight and the sense of freedom, for which the absence
+of his guests was certainly responsible, soon restored his spirits.
+Blest with an excellent morning appetite - the delightful heritage
+of a clean life - he enjoyed his breakfast and thoroughly
+appreciated his cook's efforts.  If he needed a sauce, Fate bestowed
+one upon him, for he was scarcely midway through his meal before a
+loud ringing at the lodge gates proved the accuracy of his
+conjectures.  Mr. Da Souza had purchased a morning paper at the
+junction, and their host's perfidy had become apparent.  Obviously
+they had decided to treat the whole matter as a practical joke and
+to brave it out, for outside the gates in an open fly were the whole
+party.  They had returned, only to find that according to Trent's
+orders the gates were closed upon them.
+
+Trent moved his seat to where he could have a better view, and
+continued his breakfast.  The party in the cab looked hot, and
+tumbled, and cross.  Da Souza was on his feet arguing with the
+lodge-keeper - the women seemed to be listening anxiously.  Trent
+turned to the servant who was waiting upon him.
+
+"Send word down," he directed, "that I will see Mr. Da Souza alone.
+No one else is to be allowed to enter.  Pass me the toast before
+you go."
+
+Da Souza entered presently, apologetic and abject, prepared at the
+same time to extenuate and deny.  Trent continued his breakfast
+coolly.
+
+"My dear friend!" Da Souza exclaimed, depositing his silk hat upon
+the table, "it is a very excellent joke of yours.  You see, we have
+entered into the spirit of it - oh yes, we have done so indeed!
+We have taken a little drive before breakfast, but we have returned.
+You knew, of course, that we would not dream of leaving you in such
+a manner.  Do you not think, my dear friend, that the joke was
+carried now far enough?  The ladies are hungry; will you send word
+to the lodge-keeper that he may open the gate?"
+
+Trent helped himself to coffee, and leaned back in his chair,
+stirring it thoughtfully.
+
+"You are right, Da Souza," he said.  "It is an excellent joke.  The
+cream of it is too that I am in earnest; neither you nor any of
+those ladies whom I see out there will sit at my table again."
+
+"You are not in earnest!  You do not mean it!"
+
+"I can assure you," Trent replied grinning, "that I do!"
+
+"But do you mean," Da Souza spluttered, "that we are to go like
+this - to be turned out - the laughing-stock of your servants,
+after we have come back too, all the way?  - oh, it is nonsense!
+It's not to be endured!"
+
+"You can go to the devil!" Trent answered coolly.  "There is not
+one of you whom I care a fig to see again.  You thought that I was
+ruined, and you scudded like rats from a sinking ship.  Well, I
+found you out, and a jolly good thing too.  All I have to say is
+now, be off, and the quicker the better!"
+
+Then Da Souza cringed no longer, and there shot from his black eyes
+the venomous twinkle of the serpent whose fangs are out.  He leaned
+over the table, and dropped his voice.
+
+"I speak," he said, "for my wife, my daughter, and myself, and I
+assure you that we decline to go!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+Trent rose up with flashing eyes.  Da Souza shrank back from his
+outstretched hands.  The two men stood facing one another.  Da
+Souza was afraid, but the ugly look of determination remained upon
+his white face.  Trent felt dimly that there was something which
+must be explained between them.  There had been hints of this sort
+before from Da Souza.  It was time the whole thing was cleared up.
+The lion was ready to throw aside the jackal.
+
+"I give you thirty seconds," he said, "to clear out.  If you haven't
+come to your senses then, you'll be sorry for it."
+
+"Thirty seconds is not long enough," Da Souza answered, "for me to
+tell you why I decline to go.  Better listen to me quietly, my
+friend.  It will be best for you.  Afterwards you will admit it."
+
+"Go ahead," Trent said, "I'm anxious to hear what you've got to say.
+Only look here !  I'm a bit short-tempered this morning, and I
+shouldn't advise you to play with your words!"
+
+"This is no play at all," Da Souza remarked, with a sneer.  "I ask
+you to remember, my friend, our first meeting."
+
+Trent nodded.
+
+"Never likely to forget it," he answered.
+
+"I came down from Elmina to deal with you," Da Souza continued.  "I
+had made money trading in Ashanti for palm-oil and mahogany.  I had
+money to invest - and you needed it.  You had land, a concession to
+work gold-mines, and build a road to the coast.  It was speculative,
+but we did business.  I came with you to England.  I found more money."
+
+"You made your fortune," Trent said drily.  "I had to have the money,
+and you ground a share out of me which is worth a quarter of a
+million to you!"
+
+"Perhaps it is," Da Souza answered, "perhaps it is not.  Perhaps it
+is worth nothing at all.  Perhaps, instead of being a millionaire,
+you yourself are a swindler and an adventurer!"
+
+"If you don't speak out in half a moment," Trent said in a low tone,
+"I'll twist the tongue out of your head."
+
+"I am speaking out," Da Souza answered.  "It is an ugly thing I
+have to say, but you must control yourself."
+
+The little black eyes were like the eyes of a snake.  He was showing
+his teeth.  He forgot to be afraid.
+
+"You had a partner," he said.  "The concession was made out to him
+together with yourself."
+
+"He died," Trent answered shortly.  "I took over the lot by
+arrangement."
+
+"A very nice arrangement," Da Souza drawled with a devilish smile.
+"He is old and weak.  You were with him up at Bekwando where there
+are no white men - no one to watch you.  You gave him brandy to
+drink - you watch the fever come, and you write on the concession
+if one should die all goes to the survivor.  And you gave him
+brandy in the bush where the fever is, and - behold you return
+alone!  When people know this they will say, 'Oh yes, it is the way
+millionaires are made.'"
+
+He stopped, out of breath, for the veins were standing out upon his
+forehead, and he remembered what the English doctor at Cape Coast
+Castle had told him.  So he was silent for a moment, wiping the
+perspiration away and struggling against the fear which was turning
+the blood to ice in his veins.  For Trent's face was not pleasant
+to look upon.
+
+"Anything else?"
+
+Da Souza pulled himself together.  "Yes," he said; "what I have said
+is as nothing.  It is scandalous, and it would make talk, but it is
+nothing.  There is something else."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"You had a partner whom you deserted."
+
+"It is a lie!  I carried him on my back for twenty hours with a
+pack of yelling niggers behind.  We were lost, and I myself was
+nigh upon a dead man.  Who would have cumbered himself with a
+corpse?  Curse you and your vile hints, you mongrel, you hanger-on,
+you scurrilous beast!  Out, and spread your stories, before my
+fingers get on your throat!  Out!"
+
+Da Souza slunk away before the fire in Trent's eyes, but he had no
+idea of going.  He stood in safety near the door, and as he leaned
+forward, speaking now in a hoarse whisper, he reminded Trent
+momentarily of one of those hideous fetish gods in the sacred grove
+at Bekwando.
+
+"Your partner was no corpse when you left him," he hissed out.
+"You were a fool and a bungler not to make sure of it.  The natives
+from Bekwando found him and carried him bound to the King, and your
+English explorer, Captain Francis, rescued him.  He's alive now!"
+
+Trent stood for a moment like a man turned to stone.  Alive!  Monty
+alive!  The impossibility of the thing came like a flash of relief
+to him.  The man was surely on the threshold of death when he had
+left him, and the age of miracles was past.
+
+"You're talking like a fool, Da Souza.  Do you mean to take me in
+with an old woman's story like that?"
+
+"There's no old woman's story about what I've told you," Da Souza
+snarled.  "The man's alive and I can prove it a dozen times over.
+You were a fool and a bungler."
+
+Trent thought of the night when he had crept back into the bush and
+had found no trace of Monty, and gradually there rose up before him
+a lurid possibility Da Souza's story was true.  The very thought of
+it worked like madness in his brains.  When he spoke he strove hard
+to steady his voice, and even to himself it sounded like the voice
+of one speaking a long way off.
+
+"Supposing that this were true," he said, "what is he doing all this
+time?  Why does he not come and claim his share?"
+
+Da Souza hesitated.  He would have liked to have invented another
+reason, but it was not safe.  The truth was best.
+
+"He is half-witted and has lost his memory.  He is working now at
+one of the Basle mission-places near Attra."
+
+"And why have you not told me this before?"
+
+Da Souza shrugged his shoulders.  "It was not necessary," he said.
+"Our interests were the same, it was better for you not to know."
+
+"He remembers nothing, then?"
+
+Da Souza hesitated.  "Oom Sam," he said, "my half-brother, keeps an
+eye on him.  Sometimes he gets restless, he talks, but what matter?
+He has no money.  Soon he must die.  He is getting an old man!"
+
+"I shall send for him," Trent said slowly.  "He shall have his share!"
+
+It was the one fear which had kept Da Souza silent.  The muscles of
+his face twitched, and his finger-nails were buried in the flesh of
+his fat, white hands.  Side by side he had worked with Trent for
+years without being able to form any certain estimate of the man or
+his character.  Many a time he had asked himself what Trent would do
+if he knew - only the fear of his complete ignorance of the man had
+kept him silent all these years.  Now the crisis had come!  He had
+spoken!  It might mean ruin.
+
+"Send for him?" Da Souza said.  "Why?  His memory has gone - save
+for occasional fits of passion in which he raves at you.  What would
+people say? - that you tried to kill him with brandy, that the clause
+in the concession was a direct incentive for you to get rid of him,
+and you left him in the bush only a few miles from Buckomari to be
+seized by the natives.  Besides, how can you pay him half?  I know
+pretty well how you stand.  On paper, beyond doubt you are a
+millionaire; but what if all claims were suddenly presented against
+you to be paid in sovereigns?  I tell you this, my friend, Mr.
+Scarlett Trent, and I am a man of experience and I know.  To-day in
+the City it is true that you could raise a million pounds in cash,
+but let me whisper a word, one little word, and you would be hard
+pressed to raise a thousand.  It is true there is the Syndicate,
+that great scheme of yours yesterday from which you were so careful
+to exclude me - you are to get great monies from them in cash. Bah!
+don't you see that Monty's existence breaks up that Syndicate -
+smashes it into tiny atoms, for you have sold what was not yours to
+sell, and they do not pay for that, eh?  They call it fraud!"
+
+He paused, out of breath, and Trent remained silent; he knew very
+well that he was face to face with a great crisis.  Of all things
+this was the most fatal which could have happened to him.  Monty
+alive!  He remembered the old man's passionate cry for life, for
+pleasure, to taste once more, for however short a time, the joys of
+wealth.  Monty alive, penniless, half-witted, the servant of a few
+ill-paid missionaries, toiling all day for a living, perhaps fishing
+with the natives or digging, a slave still, without hope or
+understanding, with the end of his days well in view!  Surely it
+were better to risk all things, to have him back at any cost?  Then
+a thought more terrible yet than any rose up before him like a
+spectre, there was a sudden catch at his heart-strings, he was cold
+with fear.  What would she think of the man who deserted his partner,
+an old man, while life was yet in him, and safety close at hand?
+Was it possible that he could ever escape the everlasting stigma of
+cowardice - ay, and before him in great red letters he saw written
+in the air that fatal clause in the agreement, to which she and all
+others would point with bitter scorn, indubitable, overwhelming
+evidence against him.  He gasped for breath and walked restlessly up
+and down the room.  Other thoughts came crowding in upon him.  He
+was conscious of a new element in himself.  The last few years had
+left their mark upon him.  With the handling of great sums of money
+and the acquisition of wealth had grown something of the financier's
+fever.  He had become a power, solidly and steadfastly he had hewn
+his way into a little circle whose fascination had begun to tell in
+his blood.  Was he to fall without a struggle from amongst the high
+places, to be stripped of his wealth, shunned as a man who was
+morally, if not in fact, a murderer, to be looked upon with
+never-ending scorn by the woman whose picture for years had been
+a religion to him, and whose appearance only a few hours ago had
+been the most inspiring thing which had entered into his life?  He
+looked across the lawn into the pine grove with steadfast eyes and
+knitted brows, and Da Souza watched him, ghastly and nervous.  At
+least he must have time to decide!
+
+"If you send for him," Da Souza said slowly, "you will be absolutely
+ruined.  It will be a triumph for those whom you have made jealous,
+who have measured their wits with yours and gone under.  Oh!  but
+the newspapers will enjoy it - that is very certain.  Our latest
+millionaire, his rise and fall!  Cannot you see it in the placards?
+And for what?  To give wealth to an old man long past the enjoyment
+of it-ay, imbecile already!  You will not be a madman, Trent?"
+
+Trent winced perceptibly.  Da Souza saw it and rejoiced.  There was
+another awkward silence.  Trent lit a cigar and puffed furiously
+at it.
+
+"I will think it over, at least," he said in a low tone.  "Bring
+back your wife and daughter, and leave me alone for a while."
+
+"I knew," Da Souza murmured, "that my friend would be reasonable."
+
+"And the young ladies?"
+
+"Send them to - "
+
+"I will send them back to where they came from," Da Souza
+interrupted blandly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+It is probable that Mrs. Da Souza, excellent wife and mother though
+she had proved herself to be, had never admired her husband more
+than when, followed by the malevolent glances of Miss Montressor
+and her friend, she, with her daughter and Da Souza, re-entered the
+gates of the Lodge.  The young ladies had announced their intention
+of sitting in the fly until they were allowed speech with their late
+host; to which he had replied that they were welcome to sit there
+until doomsday so long as they remained outside his gates.  Mr. Da
+Souza lingered for a moment behind and laid his finger upon his nose.
+
+"It ain't no use, my dears," he whispered confidentially.  "He's
+fairly got the hump.  Between you and me he'd give a bit not to have
+us, but me and him being old friends - you see, we know a bit about
+one another."
+
+"Oh, that's it, is it?" Miss Montressor remarked, with a toss of her
+head.  "Well, you and your wife and your little chit of a daughter
+are welcome to him so far as we are concerned, aren't they, Flossie?"
+
+"Well, I should say so," agreed the young lady, who rather affected
+Americanisms.
+
+Da Souza stroked his little imperial, and winked solemnly.
+
+"You are young ladies of spirit," he declared.  "Now - "
+
+"Hiram!"
+
+"I am coming, my dear," he called over his shoulder.  "One word
+more, my charming young friends!  No. 7, Racket's Court, City, is
+my address.  Look in sometime when you're that way, and we'll have
+a bit of lunch together, and just at present take my advice.  Get
+back to London and write him from there.  He is not in a good humour
+at present."
+
+"We are much obliged, Mr. Da Souza," the young lady answered loftily.
+"As we have engagements in London this afternoon, we may as well go
+now - eh, Flossie?"
+
+"Right along," answered the young lady, "I'm with you, but as to
+writing Mr. Trent, you can tell him from me, Mr. Da Souza, that we
+want to have nothing more to do with him.  A fellow that can treat
+ladies as he has treated us is no gentleman.  You can tell him that.
+He's an ignorant, common fellow, and for my part I despise him."
+
+"Same here," echoed Miss Montressor, heartily.  "We ain't used to
+associate with such as him!"
+
+"Hiram!"
+
+Mr, Da Souza raised his hat and bowed; the ladies were tolerably
+gracious and the fly drove off.  Whereupon Mr. Da Souza followed
+his wife and daughter along the drive and caught them up upon the
+doorstep.  With mingled feelings of apprehension and elation he
+ushered them into the morning-room where Trent was standing looking
+out of the window with his hands behind him.  At their entrance he
+did not at once turn round.  Mr. Da Souza coughed apologetically.
+
+"Here we are, my friend," he remarked.  "The ladies are anxious to
+wish you good morning."
+
+Trent faced them with a sudden gesture of impatience.  He seemed
+on the point of an angry exclamation, when his eyes met Julie Da
+Souza's.  He held his breath for a moment and was silent.  Her face
+was scarlet with shame, and her lips were trembling.  For her sake
+Trent restrained himself.
+
+"Glad to see you back again, Julie," he said, ignoring her mother's
+outstretched hand and beaming smile of welcome.  "Going to be a hot
+day, I think.  You must get out in the hay-field.  Order what
+breakfast you please, Da Souza," he continued on his way to the
+door; "you must be hungry-after such an early start!"
+
+Mrs. Da Souza sat down heavily and rang the bell.
+
+"He was a little cool," she remarked, "but that was to be expected.
+Did you observe the notice he took of Julie?  Dear child!"
+
+Da Souza rubbed his hands and nodded meaningly.  The girl, who,
+between the two, was miserable enough, sat down with a little sob.
+Her mother looked at her in amazement.
+
+"My Julie," she exclaimed, "my dear child!  You see, Hiram, she is
+faint!  She is overcome!"
+
+The child, she was very little more, broke out at last in speech,
+passionately, yet with a miserable fore-knowledge of the
+ineffectiveness of anything she might say.
+
+"It is horrible," she cried, "it is maddening!  Why do we do it? 
+Are we paupers or adventurers?  Oh! let me go away!  I am ashamed
+to stay in this house!"
+
+Her father, his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat and his
+legs far apart, looked at her in blank and speechless amazement;
+her mother, with more consideration but equal lack of sympathy,
+patted her gently on the back of her hand.
+
+"Silly Julie," she murmured, "what is there that is horrible,
+little one?"
+
+The dark eyes blazed with scorn, the delicately curved lips shook.
+
+"Why, the way we thrust ourselves upon this man is horrible!" she
+cried.  "Can you not see that we are not welcome, that he wishes
+us gone?"
+
+Da Souza smiled in a superior manner; the smile of a man who, if
+only he would, could explain all things.  He patted his daughter on
+the head with a touch which was meant to be playful.
+
+"My little one," he said, "you are mistaken!  Leave these matters
+to those who are older and wiser than you.  It is but just now that
+my good friend said to me, 'Da Souza,' he say, 'I will not have you
+take your little daughter away!' Oh, we shall see!  We shall see!"
+
+Julie's tears crept through the fingers closely pressed over her
+eyes.
+
+"I do not believe it," she sobbed.  "He has scarcely looked at me
+all the time, and I do not want him to.  He despises us all - and
+I don't blame him.  It is horrid!"
+
+Mrs. Da Souza, with a smile which was meant to be arch, had
+something to say, but the arrival of breakfast broke up for a while
+the conversation.  Her husband, whom Nature had blessed with a
+hearty appetite at all times, was this morning after his triumph
+almost disposed to be boisterous.  He praised the cooking, chaffed
+the servants to their infinite disgust, and continually urged his
+wife and daughter to keep pace with him in his onslaught upon the
+various dishes which were placed before him.  Before the meal was
+over Julie had escaped from the table crying softly.  Mr. Da Souza's
+face darkened as he looked up at the sound of her movement, only to
+see her skirt vanishing through the door.
+
+"Shall you have trouble with her, my dear?" he asked his wife
+anxiously.
+
+That estimable lady shook her head with a placid smile.  "Julie is
+so sensitive," she muttered, "but she is not disobedient.  When
+the time comes I can make her mind."
+
+"But the time has come!" Da Souza exclaimed.  "It is here now, and
+Julie is sulky.  She will have red eyes and she is not gay!  She
+will not attract him.  You must speak with her, my dear."
+
+"I will go now - this instant," she answered, rising.  "But, Hiram,
+there is one thing I would much like to know."
+
+"Ugh!  You women!  You are always like that!  There is so much that
+you want to know!"
+
+"Most women, Hiram - not me!  Do I ever seek to know your secrets?
+But this time - yes, it would be wiser to tell me a little!"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"This Mr. Trent, he asked us here, but it is plain that our company
+is not pleasant to him.  He does his best to get rid of us - he
+succeeds - he plans that we shall not return.  You see him alone
+and all that is altered.  His little scheme has been in vain.  We
+remain!  He does not look at our Julie.  He speaks of marriage with
+contempt.  Yet you say he will marry her - he, a millionaire!  What
+does it mean, Hiram?"
+
+"The man, he is in my power," Da Souza says in a ponderous and
+stealthy whisper.  "I know something."
+
+She rose and imprinted a solemn kiss upon his forehead.  There was
+something sacramental about the deliberate caress.
+
+"Hiram," she said, "you are a wonderful man!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+Scarlett Trent spent the first part of the morning, to which he had
+been looking forward so eagerly, alone in his study with locked door
+to keep out all intruders.  He had come face to face with the first
+serious check in his career, and it had been dealt him too by the
+one man whom, of all his associates, he disliked and despised.  In
+the half-open drawer by his side was the barrel of a loaded revolver.
+He drew it out, laid it on the table before him, and regarded it
+with moody, fascinated eyes.  If only it could be safely done, if
+only for one moment he could find himself face to face with Da Souza
+in Bekwando village, where human life was cheap and the slaying of
+a man an incident scarcely worth noting in the day's events!  The
+thing was easy enough there - here it was too risky.  He thrust the
+weapon back into the drawer with a sigh of regret, just as Da Souza
+himself appeared upon the scene.
+
+"You sent for me, Trent," the latter remarked timidly.  "I am quite
+ready to answer any more questions."
+
+"Answer this one, then," was the gruff reply.  "In Buckomari village
+before we left for England I was robbed of a letter.  I don't think
+I need ask you who was the thief."
+
+"Really, Trent - I - "
+
+"Don't irritate me; I'm in an ill humour for anything of that sort.
+You stole it!  I can see why now!  Have you got it still?"
+
+The Jew shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Hand it over."
+
+Da Souza drew a large folding case from his pocket and after
+searching through it for several moments produced an envelope.  The
+handwriting was shaky and irregular, and so faint that even in the
+strong, sweet light of the morning sunshine Trent had difficulty in
+reading it.  He tore it open and drew out a half-sheet of coarse
+paper.  It was a message from the man who for long he had counted
+dead.
+
+                                                        "BEKWANDO.
+
+"MY DEAR TRENT,-I have been drinking as usual!  Some men see snakes,
+but I have seen death leering at me from the dark corners of this
+vile hut, and death is an evil thing to look at when one's life has
+been evil as mine has been.  Never mind!  I have sown and I must
+reap!  But, my friend, a last word with you.  I have a notion, and
+more than a notion, that I shall never pass back alive through these
+pestilential swamps.  If you should arrive, as you doubtless will,
+here is a charge which I lay upon you.  That agreement of ours is
+scarcely a fair one, is it, Trent?  When I signed it, I wasn't quite
+myself.  Never mind!  I'll trust to you to do what's fair.  If the
+thing turns out a great success, put some sort of a share at any
+rate to my credit and let my daughter have it.  You will find her
+address from Messrs. Harris and Culsom, Solicitors, Lincoln's Inn
+Fields.  You need only ask them for Monty's daughter and show them
+this letter.  They will understand.  I believe you to be a just man,
+Scarlett Trent, although I know you to be a hard one.  Do then as
+I ask.
+
+                                                         "MONTY."
+
+Da Souza had left the room quietly.  Trent read the letter through
+twice and locked it up in his desk.  Then he rose and lit a pipe,
+knocking out the ashes carefully and filling the bowl with dark but
+fragrant tobacco.  Presently he rang the bell.
+
+"Tell Mr. Da Souza I wish to see him here at once," he told the
+servant, and, though the message was a trifle peremptory from a
+host to his guest, Da Souza promptly appeared, suave and cheerful.
+
+"Shut the door," Trent said shortly.
+
+Da Souza obeyed with unabashed amiability.  Trent watched him with
+something like disgust.  Da Souza returning caught the look, and
+felt compelled to protest.
+
+"My dear Trent," he said, "I do not like the way you address me, or
+your manners towards me.  You speak as though I were a servant.  I
+do not like it all, and it is not fair.  I am your guest, am I not?"
+
+"You are my guest by your own invitation," Trent answered roughly,
+"and if you don't like my manners you can turn out.  I may have to
+endure you in the house till I have made up my mind how to get rid
+of you, but I want as little of your company as possible.  Do you
+hear?"
+
+Da Souza did hear it, and the worm turned.  He sat down in the most
+comfortable easy-chair, and addressed Trent directly.
+
+"My friend," he said, "you are out of temper, and that is a bad
+thing.  Now listen to me!  You are in my power.  I have only to go
+into the City to-morrow and breathe here and there a word about a
+certain old gentleman who shall be nameless, and you would be a
+ruined man in something less than an hour; added to this, my friend,
+you would most certainly be arrested for conspiracy and fraud.  That
+Syndicate of yours was a very smart stroke of business, no doubt,
+and it was clever of you to keep me in ignorance of it, but as
+things have turned out now, that will be your condemnation.  They
+will say, why did you keep me in ignorance of this move, and the
+answer - why, it is very clear!  I knew you were selling what was
+not yours to sell!"
+
+"I kept you away," Trent said scornfully, "because I was dealing
+with men who would not have touched the thing if they had known
+that you were in it!"
+
+"Who will believe it?" Da Souza asked, with a sneer.  "They will
+say that it is but one more of the fairy tales of this wonderful
+Mr. Scarlett Trent."
+
+The breath came through Trent's lips with a little hiss and his
+eyes were flashing with a dull fire.  But Da Souza held his ground.
+He had nerved himself up to this and he meant going through with it.
+
+"You think I dare not breathe a word for my own sake," he continued.
+"There is reason in that, but I have other monies.  I am rich enough
+without my sixth share of that Bekwando Land and Mining Company
+which you and the Syndicate are going to bring out!  But then, I am
+not a fool!  I have no wish to throw away money.  Now I propose to
+you therefore a friendly settlement.  My daughter Julie is very
+charming.  You admire her, I am sure.  You shall marry her, and then
+we will all be one family.  Our interests will be the same, and you
+may be sure that I shall look after them.  Come!  Is that not a
+friendly offer?"
+
+For several minutes Trent smoked furiously, but he did not speak.
+At the end of that time he took the revolver once more from the
+drawer of his writing-table and fingered it.
+
+"Da Souza," he said, "if I had you just for five minutes at Bekwando
+we would talk together of black-mail, you and I, we would talk of
+marrying your daughter.  We would talk then to some purpose - you
+hound!  Get out of the room as fast as your legs will carry you.
+This revolver is loaded, and I'm not quite master of myself."
+
+Da Souza made off with amazing celerity.  Trent drew a short, quick
+breath.  There was a great deal of the wild beast left in him still.
+At that moment the desire to kill was hot in his blood.  His eyes
+glared as he walked up and down the room.  The years of civilisation
+seemed to have become as nothing.  The veneer of the City speculator
+had fallen away.  He was once more as he had been in those wilder
+days when men made their own laws, and a man's hold upon life was a
+slighter thing than his thirst for gold.  As such, he found the
+atmosphere of the little room choking him, he drew open the French
+windows of his little study and strode out into the perfumed and
+sunlit morning.  As such, he found himself face to face unexpectedly
+and without warning with the girl whom he had discovered sketching
+in the shrubbery the day before.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+Probably nothing else in the world could so soon have transformed
+Scarlett Trent from the Gold Coast buccaneer to the law-abiding
+tenant of a Surrey villa.  Before her full, inquiring eyes and
+calm salute he found himself at once abashed and confused.  He
+raised his hand to his head, only to find that he had come out
+without a hat, and he certainly appeared, as he stood there, to his
+worst possible advantage.
+
+"Good morning, miss," he stammered; "I'm afraid I startled you!"
+
+She winced a little at his address, but otherwise her manner was
+not ungracious.
+
+"You did a little," she admitted.  "Do you usually stride out of
+your windows like that, bareheaded and muttering to yourself?"
+
+"I was in a beastly temper," he admitted.  "If I had known who was
+outside - it would have been different."
+
+She looked into his face with some interest.  "What an odd thing!"
+she remarked.  "Why, I should have thought that to-day you would
+have been amiability itself.  I read at breakfast-time that you had
+accomplished something more than ordinarily wonderful in the City
+and had made - I forget how many hundreds of thousands of pounds.
+When I showed the sketch of your house to my chief, and told him
+that you were going to let me interview you to-day, I really thought
+that he would have raised my salary at once."
+
+"It's more luck than anything," he said.  "I've stood next door to
+ruin twice.  I may again, although I'm a millionaire to-day."
+
+She looked at him curiously - at his ugly tweed suit, his yellow
+boots, and up into the strong, forceful face with eyes set in deep
+hollows under his protruding brows, at the heavy jaws giving a
+certain coarseness to his expression, which his mouth and forehead,
+well-shaped though they were, could not altogether dispel.  And at
+he same time he looked at her, slim, tall, and elegant, daintily
+clothed from her shapely shoes to her sailor hat, her brown hair,
+parted in the middle, escaping a little from its confinement to
+ripple about her forehead, and show more clearly the delicacy of
+her complexion.  Trent was an ignorant man on many subjects, on
+others his taste seemed almost intuitively correct.  He knew that
+this girl belonged to a class from which his descent and education
+had left him far apart, a class of which he knew nothing, and with
+whom he could claim no kinship.  She too was realising it - her
+interest in him was, however, none the less deep.  He was a type of
+those powers which to-day hold the world in their hands, make
+kingdoms tremble, and change the fate of nations.  Perhaps he was
+all the more interesting to her because, by all the ordinary
+standards of criticism, he would fail to be ranked, in the jargon
+of her class, as a gentleman.  He represented something in flesh
+and blood which had never seemed more than half real to her - power
+without education.  She liked to consider herself - being a writer
+with ambitions who took herself seriously - a student of human
+nature.  Here was a specimen worth impaling, an original being, a
+creature of a new type such as never had come within the region of
+her experience.  It was worth while ignoring small idiosyncrasies
+which might offend, in order to annex him.  Besides, from a
+journalistic point of view, the man was more than interesting - he
+was a veritable treasure.
+
+"You are going to talk to me about Africa, are you not?" she
+reminded him.  "Couldn't we sit in the shade somewhere.  I got
+quite hot walking from the station."
+
+He led the way across the lawn, and they sat under a cedar-tree.
+He was awkward and ill at ease, but she had tact enough for both.
+
+"I can't understand," he began, "how people are interested in the
+stuff which gets into papers nowadays.  If you want horrors though,
+I can supply you.  For one man who succeeds over there, there are a
+dozen who find it a short cut down into hell.  I can tell you if
+you like of my days of starvation."
+
+"Go on!"
+
+Like many men who talk but seldom, he had the gift when he chose to
+speak of reproducing his experiences in vivid though unpolished
+language.  He told her of the days when he had worked on the banks
+of the Congo with the coolies, a slave in everything but name, when
+the sun had burned the brains of men to madness, and the palm wine
+had turned them into howling devils.  He told her of the natives of
+Bekwando, of the days they had spent amongst them in that squalid
+hut when their fate hung in the balance day by day, and every shout
+that went up from the warriors gathered round the house of the King
+was a cry of death.  He spoke of their ultimate success, of the
+granting of the concession which had laid the foundation of his
+fortunes, and then of that terrible journey back through the bush,
+followed by the natives who had already repented of their action,
+and who dogged their footsteps hour after hour, waiting for them
+only to sleep or rest to seize upon them and haul them back to
+Bekwando, prisoners for the sacrifice.
+
+"It was only our revolvers which kept them away," he went on.  "I
+shot eight or nine of them at different times when they came too
+close, and to hear them wailing over the bodies was one of the most
+hideous things you can imagine.  Why, for months and months
+afterwards I couldn't sleep.  I'd wake up in the night and fancy
+that I heard that cursed yelling outside my window - ay, even on
+the steamer at night-time if I was on deck before moonlight, I'd
+seem to hear it rising up out of the water.  Ugh!"
+
+She shuddered.
+
+"But you both escaped?" she said.
+
+There was a moment's silence.  The shade of the cedar-tree was deep
+and cool, but it brought little relief to Trent.  The perspiration
+stood out on his forehead in great beads, he breathed for a moment
+in little gasps as though stifled.
+
+"No," he answered; "my partner died within a mile or two of the
+Coast.  He was very ill when we started, and I pretty well had to
+carry him the whole of the last day.  I did my best for him.  I did,
+indeed, but it was no good.  I had to leave him.  There was no use
+sacrificing oneself for a dead man."
+
+She inclined her head sympathetically.
+
+"Was he an Englishman?" she asked.
+
+He faced the question just as he had faced death years before
+leering at him, a few feet from the muzzle of his revolver.
+
+"He was an Englishman.  The only name we had ever heard him called
+by was 'Monty.' Some said he was a broken-down gentleman.  I
+believe he was."
+
+She was unconscious of his passionate, breathless scrutiny,
+unconscious utterly of the great wave of relief which swept into
+his face as he realised that his words were without any special
+meaning to her.
+
+"It was very sad indeed," she said.  "If he had lived, he would have
+shared with you, I suppose, in the concession?"
+
+Trent nodded.
+
+"Yes, we were equal partners.  We had an arrangement by which, if
+one died, the survivor took the lot.  I didn't want it though, I'd
+rather he had pulled through.  I would indeed," he repeated with
+nervous force.
+
+"I am quite sure of that," she answered.  "And now tell me something
+about your career in the City after you came to England.  Do you
+know, I have scarcely ever been in what you financiers call the City.
+In a way it must be interesting."
+
+"You wouldn't find it so," he said.  "It is not a place for such as
+you.  It is a life of lies and gambling and deceit.  There are
+times when I have hated it.  I hate it now!"
+
+She was unaffectedly surprised.  What a speech for a millionaire of
+yesterday!
+
+"I thought," she said, "that for those who took part in it, it
+possessed a fascination stronger than anything else in the world."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"It is an ugly fascination," he said.  "You are in the swim, and
+you must hold your own.  You gamble with other men, and when you
+win you chuckle.  All the time you're whittling your conscience
+away - if ever you had any.  You're never quite dishonest, and
+you're never quite honest.  You come out on top, and afterwards you
+hate yourself.  It's a dirty little life!"
+
+"Well," she remarked after a moment's pause, "you have surprised me
+very much.  At any rate you are rich enough now to have no more to
+do with it."
+
+He kicked a fir cone savagely away.
+
+"If I could," he said, "I would shut up my office to-morrow, sell
+out, and live upon a farm.  But I've got to keep what I've made.
+The more you succeed the more involved you become.  It's a sort of
+slavery."
+
+"Have you no friends?" she asked.
+
+"I have never," he answered, "had a friend in my life."
+
+"You have guests at any rate!"
+
+"I sent 'em away last night!"
+
+"What, the young lady in blue?" she asked demurely.
+
+"Yes, and the other one too.  Packed them clean off, and they're
+not coming back either!"
+
+"I am very pleased to hear it," she remarked.
+
+"There's a man and his wife and daughter here I can't get rid of
+quite so easily," he went on gloomily, "but they've got to go!"
+
+"They would be less objectionable to the people round here who might
+like to come and see you," she remarked, "than two unattached young
+ladies."
+
+"May be," he answered.  "Yet I'd give a lot to be rid of them.
+
+He had risen to his feet and was standing with his back to the
+cedar-tree, looking away with fixed eyes to where the sunlight fell
+upon a distant hillside gorgeous with patches and streaks of yellow
+gorse and purple heather.  Presently she noticed his abstraction
+and looked also through the gap in the trees.
+
+"You have a beautiful view here," she said.  "You are fond of the
+country, are you not?"
+
+"Very," he answered.
+
+"It is not every one," she remarked, "who is able to appreciate it,
+especially when their lives have been spent as yours must have been."
+
+He looked at her curiously.  "I wonder," he said, "if you have any
+idea how my life has been spent."
+
+"You have given me," she said, "a very fair idea about some part of
+it at any rate."
+
+He drew a long breath and looked down at her.
+
+"I have given you no idea at all," he said firmly.  "I have told
+you a few incidents, that is all.  You have talked to me as though
+I were an equal.  Listen! you are probably the first lady with
+whom I have ever spoken.  I do not want to deceive you.  I never
+had a scrap of education.  My father was a carpenter who drank
+himself to death, and my mother was a factory girl.  I was in the
+workhouse when I was a boy.  I have never been to school.  I don't
+know how to talk properly, but I should be worse even than I am, if
+I had not had to mix up with a lot of men in the City who had been
+properly educated.  I am utterly and miserably ignorant.  I've got
+low tastes and lots of 'em.  I was drunk a few nights ago - I've
+done most of the things men who are beasts do.  There!  Now, don't
+you want to run away?"
+
+She shook her head and smiled up at him.  She was immensely
+interested.
+
+"If that is the worst," she said gently, "I am not at all frightened.
+You know that it is my profession to write about men and women.  I
+belong to a world of worn-out types, and to meet any one different
+is quite a luxury."
+
+"The worst!"  A sudden fear sent an icy coldness shivering through
+his veins.  His heart seemed to stop beating, his cheeks were
+blanched.  The worst of him.  He had not told her that he was a
+robber, that the foundation of his fortunes was a lie; that there
+lived a man who might bring all this great triumph of his shattered
+and crumbling about his ears.  A passionate fear lest she might
+ever knew of these things was born in his heart at that moment,
+never altogether to leave him.
+
+The sound of a footstep close at hand made them both turn their
+heads.  Along the winding path came Da Souza, with an ugly smirk
+upon his white face, smoking a cigar whose odour seemed to poison
+the air.  Trent turned upon him with a look of thunder.
+
+"What do you want here, Da Souza?" he asked fiercely.
+
+Da Souza held up the palms of his hands.
+
+"I was strolling about," he said, "and I saw you through the trees.
+I did not know that you were so pleasantly engaged," he added, with
+a wave of his hat to the girl, "or I would not have intruded."
+
+Trent kicked open the little iron gate which led into the garden
+beyond.
+
+"Well, get out, and don't come here again," he said shortly.
+"There's plenty of room for you to wander about and poison the air
+with those abominable cigars of yours without coming here."
+
+Da Souza replaced his hat upon his head.  "The cigars, my friend,
+are excellent.  We cannot all smoke the tobacco of a millionaire,
+can we, miss?"
+
+The girl, who was making some notes in her book, continued her work
+without the slightest appearance of having heard him.
+
+Da Souza snorted, but at that moment he felt a grip like iron upon
+his shoulder, and deemed retreat expedient.
+
+"If you don't go without another word," came a hot whisper in his
+ear, "I'll throw you into the horse-pond."
+
+He went swiftly, ungracious, scowling.  Trent returned to the girl.
+She looked up at him and closed her book.
+
+"You must change your friends," she said gravely.  "What a horrible
+man!"
+
+"He is a beast," Trent answered, "and go he shall.  I would to
+Heaven that I had never seen him."
+
+She rose, slipped her note-book into her pocket, and drew on her
+gloves.
+
+"I have taken up quite enough of your time," she said.  "I am so
+much obliged to you, Mr. Trent, for all you have told me.  It has
+been most interesting."
+
+She held out her hand, and the touch of it sent his heart beating
+with a most unusual emotion.  He was aghast at the idea of her
+imminent departure.  He realised that, when she passed out of his
+gate, she passed into a world where she would be hopelessly lost
+to him, so he took his courage into his hands, and was very bold
+indeed.
+
+"You have not told me your name," he reminded her.
+
+She laughed lightly.
+
+"How very unprofessional of me!  I ought to have given you a card!
+For all you know I may be an impostor, indulging an unpardonable
+curiosity.  "My name is Wendermott - Ernestine Wendermott."
+
+He repeated it after her.
+
+"Thank you," he said.  "I am beginning to think of some more things
+which I might have told you."
+
+"Why, I should have to write a novel then to get them all in," she
+said.  "I am sure you have given me all the material I need here."
+
+"I am going," he said abruptly, "to ask you something very strange
+and very presumptuous!"
+
+She looked at him in surprise, scarcely understanding what he could
+mean.
+
+"May I come and see you some time?"
+
+The earnestness of his gaze and the intense anxiety of his tone
+almost disconcerted her.  He was obviously very much in earnest,
+and she had found him far from uninteresting.
+
+"By all means," she answered pleasantly, "if you care to.  I have
+a little flat in Culpole Street - No. 81.  You must come and have
+tea with me one afternoon."
+
+"Thank you," he said simply, with a sigh of immense relief.
+
+He walked with her to the gate, and they talked about rhododendrons.
+
+Then he watched her till she became a speck in the dusty road - she
+had refused a carriage, and he had had tact enough not to press any
+hospitality upon her.
+
+"His little girl!" he murmured.  "Monty's little girl!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+Ernestine Wendermott travelled back to London in much discomfort,
+being the eleventh occupant of a third-class carriage in a
+particularly unpunctual and dilatory train.  Arrived at Waterloo,
+she shook out her skirts with a little gesture of relief and started
+off to walk to the Strand.  Half-way across the bridge she came face
+to face with a tall, good-looking young man who was hurrying in the
+opposite direction.  He stopped short as he recognised her, dropped
+his eyeglass, and uttered a little exclamation of pleasure.
+
+"Ernestine, by all that's delightful!  I am in luck to-day!"
+
+She smiled slightly and gave him her hand, but it was evident that
+this meeting was not wholly agreeable to her.
+
+"I don't quite see where the luck comes in," she answered.  "I have
+no time to waste talking to you now.  I am in a hurry."
+
+"You will allow me," he said hopefully, "to walk a little way with
+you?"
+
+"I am not able to prevent it - if you think it worth while," she
+answered.
+
+He looked down - he was by her side now - in good-humoured protest.
+
+"Come, Ernestine," he said, "you mustn't bear malice against me.
+Perhaps I was a little hasty when I spoke so strongly about your
+work.  I don't like your doing it and never shall like it, but I've
+said all I want to.  You won't let it divide us altogether, will
+you?"
+
+"For the present," she answered, "it occupies the whole of my time,
+and the whole of my thoughts."
+
+"To the utter exclusion, I suppose," he remarked, "of me?"
+
+She laughed gaily.
+
+"My dear Cecil!  when have I ever led you to suppose for a moment
+that I have ever wasted any time thinking of you?"
+
+He was determined not to be annoyed, and he ignored both the speech
+and the laugh.
+
+"May I inquire how you are getting on?"
+
+"I am getting on," she answered, "very well indeed.  The Editor is
+beginning to say very nice things to me, and already the men treat
+me just as though I were a comrade!  It is so nice of them!"
+
+"Is it?" he muttered doubtfully.
+
+"I have just finished," she continued, "the most important piece of
+work they have trusted me with yet, and I have been awfully lucky.
+I have been to interview a millionaire!"
+
+"A man?"
+
+She nodded.  "Of course!"
+
+"It isn't fit work for you," he exclaimed hastily.
+
+"You will forgive me if I consider myself the best judge of that,"
+she answered coldly.  "I am a journalist, and so long as it is
+honest work my sex doesn't count.  If every one whom I have to see
+is as courteous to me as Mr. Trent has been, I shall consider myself
+very lucky indeed."
+
+"As who?" he cried.
+
+She looked up at him in surprise.  They were at the corner of the
+Strand, but as though in utter forgetfulness of their whereabouts,
+he had suddenly stopped short and gripped her tightly by the arm.
+She shook herself free with a little gesture of annoyance.
+
+"Whatever is the matter with you, Cecil?  Don't gape at me like
+that, and come along at once, unless you want to be left behind.
+Yes, we are very short-handed and the chief let me go down to see
+Mr. Trent.  He didn't expect for a moment that I should get him
+to talk to me, but I did, and he let me sketch the house.  I am
+awfully pleased with myself I can tell you."
+
+The young man walked by her side for a moment in silence.  She
+looked up at him casually as they crossed the street, and something
+in his face surprised her.
+
+"Why, Cecil, what on earth is the matter with you?" she exclaimed.
+
+He looked down at her with a new seriousness.
+
+"I was thinking," he said, "how oddly things turn out.  So you have
+been down to interview Mr. Scarlett Trent for a newspaper, and he
+was civil to you!"
+
+"Well, I don't see anything odd about that," she exclaimed
+impatiently.  "Don't be so enigmatical.  If you've anything to say,
+say it!  Don't look at me like an owl!"
+
+"I have a good deal to say to you," he answered gravely.  "How long
+shall you be at the office?"
+
+"About an hour - perhaps longer."
+
+"I will wait for you!"
+
+"I'd rather you didn't.  I don't want them to think that I go
+trailing about with an escort."
+
+"Then may I come down to your flat?  I have something really
+important to say to you, Ernestine.  It does not concern myself at
+all.  It is wholly about you.  It is something which you ought to
+know."
+
+"You are trading upon my curiosity for the sake of a tea," she
+laughed.  "Very well, about five o'clock."
+
+He bowed and walked back westwards with a graver look than usual
+upon his boyish face, for he had a task before him which was very
+little to his liking.  Ernestine swung open the entrance door to
+the "Hour", and passed down the rows of desks until she reached the
+door at the further end marked "Sub-Editor."  She knocked and was
+admitted at once.
+
+A thin, dark young man, wearing a pince-nez and smoking a cigarette,
+looked up from his writing as she entered.  He waved her to a seat,
+but his pen never stopped for a second.
+
+"Back, Miss Wendermott!  Very good!  What did you get?"
+
+"Interview and sketch of the house," she responded briskly.
+
+"Interview by Jove!  That's good!  Was he very difficult?"
+
+"Ridiculously easy!  Told me everything I asked and a lot more.  If
+I could have got it all down in his own language it would have been
+positively thrilling."
+
+The sub-editor scribbled in silence for a moment or two.  He had
+reached an important point in his own work.  His pen went slower,
+hesitated for a moment, and then dashed on with renewed vigour.
+
+"Read the first few sentences of what you've got," he remarked.
+
+Ernestine obeyed.  To all appearance the man was engrossed in his
+own work, but when she paused he nodded his head appreciatively.
+
+"It'll do!" he said.  "Don't try to polish it.  Give it down, and
+see that the proofs are submitted to me.  Where's the sketch?"
+
+She held it out to him.  For a moment he looked away from his own
+work and took the opportunity to light a fresh cigarette.  Then he
+nodded, hastily scrawled some dimensions on the margin of the little
+drawing and settled down again to work.
+
+"It'll do," he said.  "Give it to Smith.  Come back at eight to
+look at your proofs after I've done with them.  Good interview!
+Good sketch!  You'll do, Miss Wendermott."
+
+She went out laughing softly.  This was quite the longest
+conversation she had ever had with the chief.  She made her way to
+the side of the first disengaged typist, and sitting in an
+easy-chair gave down her copy, here and there adding a little but
+leaving it mainly in the rough.  She knew whose hand, with a few
+vigorous touches would bring the whole thing into the form which
+the readers of the "Hour", delighted in, and she was quite content
+to have it so.  The work was interesting and more than an hour had
+passed before she rose and put on her gloves.
+
+"I am coming back at eight," she said.  "but the proofs are to go
+in to Mr. Darrel!  Nothing come in for me, I suppose?"
+
+The girl shook her head, so Ernestine walked out into the street.
+Then she remembered Cecil Davenant and his strange manner - the
+story which he was even now waiting to tell her.  She looked at her
+watch and after a moment's hesitation called a hansom.
+
+81, Culpole Street, she told him.  "This is a little extravagant,"
+she said to herself as the man wheeled his horse round, "but to-day
+I think that I have earned it."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+"Ernestine," he said gravely, "I am going to  speak to you about
+your father!"
+
+She looked up at him in swift surprise.
+
+"Is it necessary?"
+
+"I think so," he answered.  "You won't like what I'm going to tell
+you!  You'll think you've been badly treated.  So you have!  I
+pledged my word, in a weak hour, with the others.  To-day I'm going
+to break it.  I think it best."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"You've been deceived!  You were told always that your father had
+died in prison.  He didn't."
+
+"What!
+
+Her sharp cry rang out strangely into the little room.  Already he
+could see signs of the coming storm, and the task which lay before
+him seemed more hateful than ever.
+
+"Listen," he said.  "I must tell you some things which you know in
+order to explain others which you do not know.  Your father was a
+younger son born of extravagant parents, virtually penniless and
+without the least capacity for earning money.  I don't blame him
+ - who could?  I couldn't earn money myself.  If I hadn't got it I
+daresay that I should go to the bad as he did."
+
+The girl's lips tightened, and she drew a little breath through her
+teeth.  Davenant hesitated.
+
+"You know all about that company affair.  Of course they made your
+father the butt of the whole thing, although he was little more
+than a tool.  He was sent to prison for seven years.  You were only
+a child then and your mother was dead.  Well, when the seven years
+were up, your relations and mine too, Ernestine, concocted what I
+have always considered an ill-begotten and a miserably selfish plot.
+Your father, unfortunately, yielded to them, for your sake.  You
+were told that he had died in prison.  He did not.  He lived through
+his seven years there, and when he came out did so in another name
+and went abroad on the morning of the day of his liberation."
+
+"Good God!" she cried.  "And now!"
+
+"He is dead," Davenant answered hastily, "but only just lately.
+Wait a minute.  You are going to be furiously angry.  I know it,
+and I don't blame you.  Only listen for a moment.  The scheme was
+hatched up between my father and your two uncles.  I have always
+hated it and always protested against it.  Remember that and be
+fair to me.  This is how they reasoned.  Your father's health,
+they said, was ruined, and if he lives the seven years what is
+there left for him when he comes out?  He was a man, as you know,
+of aristocratic and fastidious tastes.  He would have the best of
+everything - society, clubs, sport.  Now all these were barred
+against him.  If he had reappeared he could not have shown his face
+in Pall Mall, or on the racecourses, and every moment of his life
+would be full of humiliations and bitterness.  Virtually then, for
+such a man as he was, life in England was over.  Then there was you.
+You were a pretty child and the Earl had no children.  If your
+father was dead the story would be forgotten, you would marry
+brilliantly and an ugly page in the family history would be blotted
+out.  That was how they looked at it - it was how they put it to
+your father."
+
+"He consented?"
+
+"Yes, he consented!  He saw the wisdom of it for your sake, for the
+sake of the family, even for his own sake.  The Earl settled an
+income upon him and he left England secretly on the morning of his
+release.  We had the news of his death only a week or two ago."
+
+She stood up, her eyes blazing, her hands clenched together.
+
+"I thank God," she said "that I have found the courage to break
+away from those people and take a little of my life into my own
+hands.  You can tell them this if you will, Cecil, - my uncle Lord
+Davenant, your mother, and whoever had a say in this miserable
+affair.  Tell them from me that I know the truth and that they are
+a pack of cowardly, unnatural old women.  Tell them that so long as
+I live It will never willingly speak to one of them again.
+
+"I was afraid you'd take it like that," he remarked dolefully.
+
+"Take it like that!" she repeated in fierce scorn.  "How else could
+a woman hear such news?  How else do you suppose she could feel to
+be told that she had been hoodwinked, and kept from her duty and a
+man's heart very likely broken, to save the respectability of a
+worn-out old family.  Oh, how could they have dared to do it?  How
+could they have dared to do it?"
+
+"It was a beastly mistake," he admitted.
+
+A whirlwind of scorn seemed to sweep over her.  She could keep still
+no longer.  She walked up and down the little room.  Her hands were
+clenched, her eyes flashing.
+
+"To tell me that he was dead - to let him live out the rest of his
+poor life in exile and alone!  Did they think that I didn't care?
+Cecil," she exclaimed, suddenly turning and facing him, "I always
+loved my father!  You may think that I was too young to remember
+him - I wasn't, I loved him always.  When I grew up and they told
+me of his disgrace I was bitterly sorry, for I loved his memory
+ - but it made no difference.  And all the time it was a weak, silly
+lie!  They let him come out, poor father, without a friend to speak
+to him and they hustled him out of the country.  And I, whose place
+was there with him, never knew!"
+
+"You were only a child, Ernestine.  It was twelve years ago."
+
+"Child!  I may have been only a child, but I should have been old
+enough to know where my place was.  Thank God I have done with these
+people and their disgusting shibboleth of respectability."
+
+"You are a little violent," he remarked.
+
+"Pshaw!" She flashed a look of scorn upon him.  "You don't
+understand!  How should you, you are of their kidney - you're only
+half a man.  Thank God that my mother was of the people!  I'd have
+died to have gone smirking through life with a brick for a heart
+and milk and water in my veins!  Of all the stupid pieces of
+brutality I ever heard of, this is the most callous and the most
+heartbreaking."
+
+"It was a great mistake," he said, "but I believe they did it for
+the best."
+
+She sat down with a little gesture of despair.
+
+"I really think you'd better go away, Cecil," she said.  "You
+exasperate me too horribly.  I shall strike you or throw something
+at you soon.  Did it for the best!  What a miserable whine!  Poor
+dear old dad, to think that they should have done this thing."
+
+She buried her face in her handkerchief and sobbed for the second
+time since her childhood.  Davenant was wise enough to attempt no
+sort of consolation.  He leaned a little forward and hid his own
+face with the palm of his hand.  When at last she looked up her
+face had cleared and her tone was less bitter.  It would have gone
+very hard with the Earl of Eastchester, however, if he had called
+to see his niece just then.
+
+"Well," she said, "I want to know now why, after keeping silent all
+this time, you thought it best to tell me the truth this afternoon?"
+
+"Because," he answered, "you told me that you had just been to see
+Scarlett Trent!"
+
+"And what on earth had that to do with it?"
+
+"Because Scarlett Trent was with your father when he died.  They
+were on an excursion somewhere up in the bush - the very excursion
+that laid the foundation of Trent's fortune."
+
+"Go on," she cried.  "Tell me all that you know! this is wonderful!"
+
+"Well, I am glad to tell you this at any rate," he said.  "I always
+liked your father and I saw him off when he left England, and have
+written to him often since.  I believe I was his only correspondent
+in this country, except his solicitors.  He had a very adventurous
+and, I am afraid, not a very happy time.  He never wrote cheerfully,
+and he mortgaged the greater part of his income.  I don't blame him
+for anything he did.  A man needs some responsibility, or some one
+dependent upon him to keep straight.  To be frank with you, I don't
+think he did."
+
+"Poor dad," she murmured, "of course he didn't!  I know I'd have
+gone to the devil as fast as I could if I'd been treated like it!"
+
+"Well, he drifted about from place to place and at last he got to
+the Gold Coast.  Here I half lost sight of him, and his few letters
+were more bitter and despairing than ever.  The last I had told me
+that he was just off on an expedition into the interior with another
+Englishman.  They were to visit a native King and try to obtain from
+him certain concessions, including the right to work a wonderful
+gold-mine somewhere near the village of Bekwando."
+
+"Why, the great Bekwando Land Company!" she cried.  "It is the one
+Scarlett Trent has just formed a syndicate to work."
+
+Davenant nodded.
+
+"Yes.  It was a terrible risk they were running," he said, "for the
+people were savage and the climate deadly.  He wrote cheerfully for
+him, though.  He had a partner, he said, who was strong and
+determined, and they had presents, to get which he had mortgaged the
+last penny of his income.  It was a desperate enterprise perhaps,
+but it suited him, and he went on to tell me this, Ernestine.  If he
+succeeded and he became wealthy, he was returning to England just
+for a sight of you.  He was so changed, he said, that no one in the
+world would recognise him.  Poor fellow!  It was the last line I
+had from him."
+
+"And you are sure," Ernestine said slowly, "that Scarlett Trent was
+his partner?"
+
+"Absolutely.  Trent's own story clinches the matter.  The prospectus
+of the mine quotes the concession as having been granted to him by
+the King of Bekwando in the same month as your father wrote to me."
+
+"And what news," she asked, "have you had since?"
+
+"Only this letter - I will read it to you - from one of the
+missionaries of the Basle Society.  I heard nothing for so long that
+I made inquiries, and this is the result."
+
+Ernestine took it and read it out steadily.
+
+                                                   "FORTNRENIG.
+
+"DEAR Sir,-In reply to your letter and inquiry, respecting the
+whereabouts of a Mr. Richard Grey, the matter was placed in my
+hands by the agent of Messrs. Castle, and I have personally visited
+Buckoman, the village at which he was last heard of.  It seems that
+in February, 18- he started on an expedition to Bekwando in the
+interior with an Englishman by the name of Trent, with a view to
+buying land from a native King, or obtaining the concession to work
+the valuable gold-mines of that country.  The expedition seems to
+have been successful, but Trent returned alone and reported that
+his companion had been attacked by bush-fever on the way back and
+had died in a few hours.
+
+"I regret very much having to send you such sad and scanty news in
+return for your handsome donation to our funds.  I have made every
+inquiry, but cannot trace any personal effects or letter.  Mr. Grey,
+I find, was known out here altogether by the nickname of Monty.
+
+I deeply regret the pain which this letter will doubtless cause you,
+and trusting that you may seek and receive consolation where alone
+it may be found,
+                               "I am,
+                                    "Yours most sincerely,
+                                                 "Chas.  ADDISON."
+
+Ernestine read the letter carefully through, and instead of handing
+it back to Davenant, put it into her pocket when she rose up.
+"Cecil," she said, "I want you to leave me at once!  You may come
+back to-morrow at the same time.  I am going to think this out
+quietly."
+
+He took up his hat.  "There is one thing more, Ernestine," he said
+slowly.  "Enclosed in the letter from the missionary at Attra was
+another and a shorter note, which, in accordance with his request,
+I burnt as soon as I read it.  I believe the man was honest when
+he told me that for hours he had hesitated whether to send me those
+few lines or not.  Eventually he decided to do so, but he appealed
+to my honour to destroy the note as soon as I had read it."
+
+"Well!"
+
+"He thought it his duty to let me know that there had been rumours
+as to how your father met his death.  Trent, it seems, had the
+reputation of being a reckless and daring man, and, according to
+some agreement which they had, he profited enormously by your
+father's death.  There seems to have been no really definite ground
+for the rumour except that the body was not found where Trent said
+that he had died.  Apart from that, life is held cheap out there,
+and although your father was in delicate health, his death under
+such conditions could not fail to be suspicious.  I hope I haven't
+said too much.  I've tried to put it to you exactly as it was put to me!"
+
+"Thank you," Ernestine said, "I think I understand."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+Dinner at the Lodge that night was not a very  lively affair.  Trent
+had great matters in his brain and was not in the least disposed to
+make conversation for the sake of his unbidden guests.  Da Souza's
+few remarks he treated with silent contempt, and Mrs. Da Souza he
+answered only in monosyllables.  Julie, nervous and depressed, stole
+away before dessert, and Mrs. Da Souza soon followed her, very
+massive, and frowning with an air of offended dignity.  Da Souza,
+who opened the door for them, returned to his seat, moodily flicking
+the crumbs from his trousers with his serviette.
+
+"Hang it all, Trent," he remarked in an aggrieved tone, "you might
+be a bit more amiable!  Nice lively dinner for the women I must say."
+
+"One isn't usually amiable to guests who stay when they're not
+asked," Trent answered gruffly.  "However, if I hadn't much to say
+to your wife and daughter, I have a word or two to say to you, so
+fill up your glass and listen."
+
+Da Souza obeyed, but without heartiness.  He stretched himself out
+in his chair and looked down thoughtfully at the large expanse of
+shirt-front, in the centre of which flashed an enormous diamond.
+
+"I've been into the City to-day as you know," Trent continued, "and
+I found as I expected that you have been making efforts to dispose
+of your share in the Bekwando Syndicate."
+
+"I can assure you - "
+
+"Oh rot!" Trent interrupted.  "I know what I'm talking about.  I
+won't have you sell out.  Do you hear?  If you try it on I'll queer
+the market for you at any risk.  I won't marry your daughter, I
+won't be blackmailed, and I won't be bullied.  We're in this
+together, sink or swim.  If you pull me down you've got to come too.
+I'll admit that if Monty were to present himself in London to-morrow
+and demand his full pound of flesh we should be ruined, but he isn't
+going to do it.  By your own showing there is no immediate risk, and
+you've got to leave the thing in my hands to do what I think best.
+If you play any hanky-panky tricks - look here, Da Souza, I'll kill
+you, sure!  Do you hear?  I could do it, and no one would be the
+wiser so far as I was concerned.  You take notice of what I say, Da
+Souza.  You've made a fortune, and be satisfied.  That's all!"
+
+"You won't marry Julie, then?" Da Souza said gloomily.
+
+"No, I'm shot if I will!" Trent answered.  "And look here, Da Souza,
+I'm leaving here for town to-morrow - taken a furnished flat in
+Dover Street - you can stay here if you want, but there'll only be
+a caretaker in the place.  That's all I've got to say.  Make yourself
+at home with the port and cigars.  Last night, you know!  You'll
+excuse me!  I want a breath of fresh air."
+
+Trent strolled through the open window into the garden, and breathed
+a deep sigh of relief.  He was a free man again now.  He had created
+new dangers - a new enemy to face - but what did he care?  All his
+life had been spent in facing dangers and conquering enemies.  What
+he had done before he could do again!  As he lit a pipe and walked
+to and fro, he felt that this new state of things lent a certain
+savour to life - took from it a certain sensation of finality not
+altogether agreeable, which his recent great achievements in the
+financial world seemed to have inspired.  After all, what could
+Da Souza do?  His prosperity was altogether bound up in the success
+of the Bekwando Syndicate - he was never the man to kill the goose
+which was laying such a magnificent stock of golden eggs.  The
+affair, so far as he was concerned, troubled him scarcely at all
+on cool reflection.  As he drew near the little plantation he even
+forgot all about it.  Something else was filling his thoughts!
+
+The change in him became physical as well as mental.  The hard face
+of the man softened, what there was of coarseness in its rugged
+outline became altogether toned down.  He pushed open the gate with
+fingers which were almost reverent; he came at last to a halt in
+the exact spot where he had seen her first.  Perhaps it was at that
+moment he realised most completely and clearly the curious thing
+which had come to him - to him of all men, hard-hearted, material,
+an utter stranger in the world of feminine things.  With a pleasant
+sense of self-abandonment he groped about, searching for its
+meaning.  He was a man who liked to understand thoroughly everything
+he saw and felt, and this new atmosphere in which he found himself
+was a curious source of excitement to him.  Only he knew that the
+central figure of it all was this girl, that he had come out here
+to think about her, and that henceforth she had become to him the
+standard of those things which were worth having in life.  Everything
+about her had been a revelation to him.  The women whom he had come
+across in his battle upwards, barmaids and their fellows, fifth-rate
+actresses, occasionally the suburban wife of a prosperous City man,
+had impressed him only with a sort of coarse contempt.  It was
+marvellous how thoroughly and clearly he had recognised Ernestine
+at once as a type of that other world of womenkind, of which he
+admittedly knew nothing.  Yet it was so short a time since she had
+wandered into his life, so short a time that he was even a little
+uneasy at the wonderful strength of this new passion, a thing which
+had leaped up like a forest tree in a world of magic, a live,
+fully-grown thing, mighty and immovable in a single night.  He
+found himself thinking of all the other things in life from a
+changed standpoint.  His sense of proportions was altered, his
+financial triumphs were no longer omnipotent.  He was inclined even
+to brush them aside, to consider them more as an incident in his
+career.  He associated her now with all those plans concerning the
+future which he had been dimly formulating since the climax of his
+successes had come.  She was of the world which he sought to enter
+ - at once the stimulus and the object of his desires.  He forgot
+all about Da Souza and his threats, about the broken-down,
+half-witted old man who was gazing with wistful eyes across the
+ocean which kept him there, an exile - he remembered nothing save
+the wonderful, new thing which had come into his life.  A month ago
+he would have scoffed at the idea of there being anything worth
+considering outside the courts and alleys of the money-changers'
+market.  To-night he knew of other things.  To-night he knew that
+all he had done so far was as nothing - that as yet his foot was
+planted only on the threshold of life, and in the path along which
+he must hew his way lay many fresh worlds to conquer.  To-night he
+told himself that he was equal to them all.  There was something
+out here in the dim moonlight, something suggested by the shadows,
+the rose-perfumed air, the delicate and languid stillness, which
+crept into his veins and coursed through his blood like magic.
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+  
+Yet every now and then the same thought came; it lay like a small
+but threatening black shadow across all those brilliant hopes and
+dreams which were filling his brain.  So far he had played the game
+of life as a hard man, perhaps, and a selfish one, but always
+honestly.  Now, for the first time, he had stepped aside from the
+beaten track.  He told himself that he was not bound to believe Da
+Souza's story, that he had left Monty with the honest conviction
+that he was past all human help.  Yet he knew that such consolation
+was the merest sophistry.  Through the twilight, as he passed to
+and fro, he fancied more than once that the wan face of an old man,
+with wistful, sorrowing eyes, was floating somewhere before him
+ - and he stopped to listen with bated breath to the wind rustling
+in the elm-trees, fancying he could bear that same passionate cry
+ringing still in his ears - the cry of an old man parted from his
+kin and waiting for death in a lonely land.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+Ernestine found a letter on her plate a few mornings afterwards
+which rather puzzled her.  It was from a firm of solicitors in
+Lincoln's Inn - the Eastchester family solicitors - requesting her
+to call that morning to see them on important business.  There was
+not a hint as to the nature of it, merely a formal line or two and
+a signature.  Ernestine, who had written insulting letters to all
+her relatives during the last few days, smiled as she laid it down.
+Perhaps the family had called upon Mr. Cuthbert to undertake their
+defence and bring her round to a reasonable view of things.  The
+idea was amusing enough, but her first impulse was not to go.
+Nothing but the combination of an idle morning and a certain
+measure of curiosity induced her to keep the appointment.
+
+She was evidently expected, for she was shown at once into the
+private office of the senior partner.  The clerk who ushered her in
+pronounced her name indistinctly, and the elderly man who rose from
+his chair at her entrance looked at her inquiringly.
+
+"I am Miss Wendermott," she said, coming forward.  "I had a letter
+from you this morning; you wished to see me, I believe."
+
+Mr. Cuthbert dropped at once his eyeglass and his inquiring gaze,
+and held out his hand.
+
+"My dear Miss Wendermott," he said, "you must pardon the failing
+eyesight of an old man.  To be sure you are, to be sure.  Sit down,
+Miss Wendermott, if you please.  Dear me, what a likeness!"
+
+"You mean to my father?" she asked quietly.
+
+"To your father, certainly, poor, dear old boy!  You must excuse me,
+Miss Wendermott.  Your father and I were at Eton together, and I
+think I may say that we were always something more than lawyer and
+client - a good deal more, a good deal more!  He was a fine fellow
+at heart - a fine, dear fellow.  Bless me, to think that you are
+his daughter!"
+
+"It's very nice to hear you speak of him so, Mr. Cuthbert," she
+said.  "My father may have been very foolish - I suppose he was
+really worse than foolish - but I think that he was most abominably
+and shamefully treated, and so long as I live I shall never forgive
+those who were responsible for it.  I don't mean you, Mr. Cuthbert,
+of course.  I mean my grand-father and my uncle."  Mr. Cuthbert shook
+his head slowly.
+
+"The Earl," he said, "was a very proud man - a very proud man."
+
+"You may call it pride," she exclaimed.  "I call it rank and brutal
+selfishness!  They had no right to force such a sacrifice upon him.
+He would have been content, I am sure, to have lived quietly in
+England - to have kept out of their way, to have conformed to their
+wishes in any reasonable manner.  But to rob him of home and friends
+and family and name - well, may God call them to account for it,
+and judge them as they judged him!"
+
+I was against it," he said sadly, "always."
+
+"So Mr. Davenant told me," she said.  "I can't quite forgive you,
+Mr. Cuthbert, for letting me grow up and be so shamefully imposed
+upon, but of course I don't blame you as I do the others.  I am only
+thankful that I have made myself independent of my relations.  I
+think, after the letters which I wrote to them last night, they will
+be quite content to let me remain where they put my father - outside
+their lives."
+
+I had heard," Mr. Cuthbert said hesitatingly, "that you were
+following some occupation.  Something literary, is it not?"
+
+"I am a journalist," Ernestine answered promptly, "and I'm proud to
+say that I am earning my own living."
+
+He looked at her with a fine and wonderful curiosity.  In his way
+he was quite as much one of the old school as the Earl of
+Eastchester, and the idea of a lady - a Wendermott, too - calling
+herself a journalist and proud of making a few hundreds a year was
+amazing enough to him.  He scarcely knew how to answer her.
+
+"Yes, yes," he said, "you have some of your father's spirit, some
+of his pluck too.  And that reminds me - we wrote to you to call."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Mr. Davenant has told you that your father was engaged in some
+enterprise with this wonderful Mr. Scarlett Trent, when he died."
+
+"Yes!  He told me that!"
+
+"Well, I have had a visit just recently from that gentleman.  It
+seems that your father when he was dying spoke of his daughter in
+England, and Mr. Trent is very anxious now to find you out, and
+speaks of a large sum of money which he wishes to invest in your
+name."
+
+"He has been a long time thinking about it," Ernestine remarked.
+
+"He explained that," Mr. Cuthbert continued, "in this way.  Your
+father gave him our address when he was dying, but the envelope on
+which it was written got mislaid, and he only came across it a day
+or two ago.  He came to see me at once, and he seems prepared to
+act very handsomely.  He pressed very hard indeed for your name and
+address, but I did not feel at liberty to disclose them before
+seeing you."
+
+"You were quite right, Mr. Cuthbert," she answered.  "I suppose
+this is the reason why Mr. Davenant has just told me the whole
+miserable story."
+
+"It is one reason," he admitted, "but in any case I think that Mr.
+Davenant had made up his mind that you should know."
+
+"Mr. Trent, I suppose, talks of this money as a present to me?"
+
+"He did not speak of it in that way," Mr. Cuthbert answered, "but
+in a sense that is, of course, what it amounts to.  At the same
+time I should like to say that under the peculiar circumstances of
+the case I should consider you altogether justified in accepting it."
+
+Ernestine drew herself up.  Once more in her finely flashing eyes
+and resolute air the lawyer was reminded of his old friend.
+
+"I will tell you what I should call it, Mr. Cuthbert," she said, "I
+will tell you what I believe it is!  It is blood-money."
+
+Mr. Cuthbert dropped his eyeglass, and rose from his chair, startled.
+
+"Blood-money!  My dear young lady!  Blood-money!"
+
+"Yes!  You have heard the whole story, I suppose!  What did it
+sound like to you?  A valuable concession granted to two men, one
+old, the other young!  one strong, the other feeble!  yet the
+concession read, if one should die the survivor should take the
+whole.  Who put that in, do you suppose?  Not my father!  you may
+be sure of that.  And one of them does die, and Scarlett Trent is
+left to take everything.  Do you think that reasonable?  I don't.
+Now, you say, after all this time he is fired with a sudden desire
+to behave handsomely to the daughter of his dead partner.
+Fiddlesticks!  I know Scarlett Trent, although he little knows who
+I am, and he isn't that sort of man at all.  He'd better have kept
+away from you altogether, for I fancy he's put his neck in the noose
+now!  I do not want his money, but there is something I do want
+from Mr. Scarlett Trent, and that is the whole knowledge of my
+father's death."
+
+Mr. Cuthbert sat down heavily in his chair.
+
+"But, my dear young lady," he said, "you do not suspect Mr. Trent
+of - er - making away with your father!'
+
+"And why not?  According to his own showing they were alone together
+when he died.  What was to prevent it?  I want to know more about
+it, and I am going to, if I have to travel to the Gold Coast myself.
+I will tell you frankly, Mr. Cuthbert - I suspect Mr. Scarlett Trent.
+No, don't interrupt me.  It may seem absurd to you now that he is
+Mr. Scarlett Trent, millionaire, with the odour of civilisation
+clinging to him, and the respectability of wealth.  But I, too, have
+seen him, and I have heard him talk.  He has helped me to see the
+other man - half-savage, splendidly masterful, forging his way
+through to success by sheer pluck and unswerving obstinacy.  Listen,
+I admire your Mr. Trent!  He is a man, and when he speaks to you
+you know that he was born with a destiny.  But there is the other
+side.  Do you think that he would let a man's life stand in his way?
+Not he!  He'd commit a murder, or would have done in those days, as
+readily as you or I would sweep away a fly.  And it is because he
+is that sort of man that I want to know more about my father's
+death."
+
+"You are talking of serious things, Miss Wendermott," Mr. Cuthbert
+said gravely.
+
+"Why not?  Why shirk them?  My father's death was a serious thing,
+wasn't it?  I want an account of it from the only man who can
+render it."
+
+"When you disclose yourself to Mr. Trent I should say that he would
+willingly give you - "
+
+She interrupted him, coming over and standing before him, leaning
+against his table, and looking him in the face.
+
+"You don't understand.  I am not going to disclose myself!  You will
+reply to Mr. Trent that the daughter of his old partner is not in
+need of charity, however magnificently tendered.  You understand?"
+
+"I understand, Miss Wendermott."
+
+"As to her name or whereabouts you are not at liberty to disclose
+them.  You can let him think, if you will, that she is tarred with
+the same brush as those infamous and hypocritical relatives of hers
+who sent her father out to die."
+
+Mr. Cuthbert shook his head.
+
+"I think, young lady, if you will allow me to say so that you are
+making a needless mystery of the matter, and further, that you are
+embarking upon what will certainly prove to be a wild-goose chase.
+We had news of your father not long before his sad death, and he
+was certainly in ill-health."
+
+She set her lips firmly together, and there was a look in her face
+which alone was quite sufficient to deter Mr. Cuthbert from further
+argument.
+
+"It may be a wild-goose chase," she said.  "It may not.  At any
+rate nothing will alter my purpose.  Justice sleeps sometimes for
+very many years, but I have an idea that Mr. Scarlett Trent may yet
+have to face a day of settlement."
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+She walked through the crowded streets homewards, her nerves
+tingling and her pulses throbbing with excitement.  She was
+conscious of having somehow ridded herself of a load of uncertainty
+and anxiety.  She was committed now at any rate to a definite
+course.  There had been moments of indecision - moments in which
+she had been inclined to revert to her first impressions of the man,
+which, before she had heard Davenant's story, had been favourable
+enough.  That was all over now.  That pitifully tragic figure - the
+man who died with a tardy fortune in his hands, an outcast in a far
+off country - had stirred in her heart a passionate sympathy - reason
+even gave way before it.  She declared war against Mr. Scarlett
+Trent.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+Ernestine walked from Lincoln's Inn to the office of the Hour, where
+she stayed until nearly four.   Then, having finished her day's work,
+she made her way homewards.  Davenant was waiting for her in her
+rooms.  She greeted him with some surprise.
+
+"You told me that I might come to tea," he reminded her.  "If you're
+expecting any one else, or I'm in the way at all, don't mind saying
+so, please!"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"I'm certainly not expecting any one," she said.  "To tell you the
+truth my visiting-list is a very small one; scarcely any one knows
+where I live.  Sit down, and I will ring for tea."
+
+He looked at her curiously.  "What a colour you have, Ernestine!"
+he remarked.  "Have you been walking fast?"
+
+She laughed softly, and took off her hat, straightening the wavy
+brown hair, which had escaped bounds a little, in front of the
+mirror.  She looked at herself long and thoughtfully at the
+delicately cut but strong features, the clear, grey eyes and
+finely arched eyebrows, the curving, humorous mouth and dainty chin.
+Davenant regarded her in amazement.
+
+"Why, Ernestine," he exclaimed, "are you taking stock of your good
+looks?"
+
+"Precisely what I am doing," she answered laughing.  "At that moment
+I was wondering whether I possessed any."
+
+"If you will allow me,' he said, "to take the place of the mirror,
+I think that I could give you any assurances you required."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"You might be more flattering," she said, "but you would be less
+faithful."
+
+He remained standing upon the hearthrug.  Ernestine returned to
+the mirror.
+
+"May I know," he asked, "for whose sake is this sudden anxiety
+about your appearance?"
+
+She turned away and sat in a low chair, her hands clasped behind
+her head, her eyes fixed upon vacancy.
+
+"I have been wondering," she said, "whether if I set myself to it
+as to a task I could make a man for a moment forget himself - did
+I say forget? - I mean betray!"
+
+"If I were that man," he remarked smiling, "I will answer for it
+that you could."
+
+"You!  But then you are only a boy, you have nothing to conceal,
+and you are partial to me, aren't you?  No, the man whom I want to
+influence is a very different sort of person.  It is Scarlett Trent."
+
+He frowned heavily.  "A boor," he said.  "What have you to do with
+him?  The less the better I should say."
+
+"And from my point of view, the more the better," she answered.  "I
+have come to believe that but for him my father would be alive
+to-day."
+
+"I do not understand!  If you believe that, surely you do not wish
+to see the man - to have him come near you!"
+
+"I want him punished!"
+
+He shook his head.  "There is no proof.  There never could be any
+proof!"
+
+"There are many ways," she said softly, "in which a man can be made
+to suffer."
+
+"And you would set yourself to do this?"
+
+"Why not?  Is not anything better than letting him go scot-free?
+Would you have me sit still and watch him blossom into a millionaire
+peer, a man of society, drinking deep draughts of all the joys of
+life, with never a thought for the man he left to rot in an African
+jungle?  Oh, any way of punishing him is better than that.  I have
+declared war against Scarlett Trent."
+
+"How long," he asked, "will it last?"
+
+"Until he is in my power," she answered slowly.  "Until he has
+fallen back again to the ruck.  Until he has tasted a little of the
+misery from which at least he might have saved my father!"
+
+"I think," he said, "that you are taking a great deal too much for
+granted.  I do not know Scarlett Trent, and I frankly admit that I
+am prejudiced against him and all his class.  Yet I think that he
+deserves his chance, like any man.  Go to him and ask him, face to
+face, how your father died, declare yourself, press for all
+particulars, seek even for corroboration of his word.  Treat him if
+you will as an enemy, but as an honourable one!"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"The man," she said, "has all the plausibility of his class.  He
+has learned it in the money school, where these things become an
+art.  He believes himself secure - he is even now seeking for me.
+He is all prepared with his story.  No, my way is best."
+
+"I do not like your way," he said.  "It is not like you, Ernestine."
+
+"For the sake of those whom one loves," she said, "one will do much
+that one hates.  When I think that but for this man my father might
+still have been alive, might have lived to know how much I loathed
+those who sent him into exile - well, I feel then that there is
+nothing in the world I would not do to crush him!"
+
+He rose to his feet - his fresh, rather boyish, face was wrinkled
+with care.
+
+"I shall live to be sorry, Ernestine," he said, "that I ever told
+you the truth about your father."
+
+"If I had discovered it for myself," she said, "and, sooner or
+later, I should have discovered it, and had learned that you too
+had been in the conspiracy, I should never have spoken to you again
+as long as I lived."
+
+"Then I must not regret it," he said, "only I hate the part you are
+going to play.  I hate to think that I must stand by and watch, and
+say nothing."
+
+"There is no reason," she said, "why you should watch it; why do you
+not go away for a time?"
+
+"I cannot," he answered sadly, "and you know why."
+
+She was impatient, but she looked at him for a moment with a gleam
+of sadness in her eyes.
+
+"It would be much better for you," she said, "if you would make up
+your mind to put that folly behind you."
+
+"It may be folly, but it is not the sort of folly one forgets."
+
+"You had better try then, Cecil," she said, "for it is quite
+hopeless.  You know that.  Be a man and leave off dwelling upon the
+impossible.  I do not wish to marry, and I do not expect to, but if
+ever I did, it would not be you!"
+
+He was silent for a few moments - looking gloomily across at the
+girl, loathing the thought that she, his ideal of all those things
+which most become a woman, graceful, handsome, perfectly bred,
+should ever be brought into contact at all with such a man as this
+one whose confidence she was planning to gain.  No, he could not
+go away and leave her!  He must be at hand, must remain her friend.
+
+"I wonder," he said, "couldn't we have one of our old evenings
+again?  Listen - "
+
+"I would rather not," she interrupted softly.  "If you will persist
+in talking of a forbidden subject you must go away.  Be reasonable,
+Cecil."
+
+He was silent for a moment.  When he spoke again his tone was
+changed.
+
+"Very well," he said.  "I will try to let things be as you wish
+ - for the present.  Now do you want to hear some news?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Of course "
+
+"It's about Dick  -  seems rather a coincidence too.  He was at the
+Cape, you know, with a firm of surveyors, and he's been offered a
+post on the Gold Coast."
+
+"The Gold Coast!  How odd!  Anywhere near - ?"
+
+"The offer came from the Bekwando Company!"
+
+"Is he going?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+She was full of eager interest.  "How extraordinary!  He might be
+able to make some inquiries for me."
+
+He nodded.
+
+"What there is to be discovered about Mr. Scarlett Trent, he can
+find out!  But, Ernestine, I want you to understand this!  I have
+nothing against the man, and although I dislike him heartily, I
+think it is madness to associate him in any way with your father's
+death."
+
+"You do not know him.  I do!"
+
+"I have only told you my opinion," he answered, "it is of no
+consequence.  I will see with your eyes.  He is your enemy and he
+shall be my enemy.  If there is anything shady in his past out
+there, depend upon it Dick will hear of it."
+
+She pushed the wavy hair back from her forehead - her eyes were
+bright, and there was a deep flush of colour in her cheeks.  But
+the man was not to be deceived.  He knew that these things were
+not for him.  It was the accomplice she welcomed and not the man.
+
+"It is a splendid stroke of fortune," she said.  "You will write
+to Fred to-day, won't you?  Don't prejudice him either way.  Write
+as though your interest were merely curiosity.  It is the truth I
+want to get at, that is all.  If the man is innocent I wish him no
+harm - only I believe him guilty."
+
+"There was a knock at the door - both turned round.  Ernestine's
+trim little maidservant was announcing a visitor who followed close
+behind.
+
+"Mr. Scarlett Trent."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+Ernestine was a delightful hostess, she loved situations, and her
+social tact was illimitable.  In a few minutes Trent was seated in
+a comfortable and solid chair with a little round table by his side,
+drinking tea and eating buttered scones, and if not altogether at
+his ease very nearly so.  Opposite him was Davenant, dying to escape
+yet constrained to be agreeable, and animated too with a keen,
+distasteful curiosity to watch Ernestine's methods.  And Ernestine
+herself chatted all the time, diffused good fellowship and tea - she
+made an atmosphere which had a nameless fascination for the man who
+had come to middle-age without knowing what a home meant.  Davenant
+studied him and became thoughtful.  He took note of the massive
+features, the iron jaw, the eyes as bright as steel, and his
+thoughtfulness became anxiety.  Ernestine too was strong, but this
+man was a rock.  What would happen if she carried out her purpose,
+fooled, betrayed him, led him perhaps to ruin?  Some day her passion
+would leap up, she would tell him, they would be face to face,
+injured man and taunting woman.  Davenant had an ugly vision as he
+sat there.  He saw the man's eyes catch fire, the muscles of his
+face twitch, he saw Ernestine shrink back, white with terror and
+the man followed her.
+
+"Cecil!  Aren't you well?  you're looking positively ghastly!"
+
+He pulled himself together - it had been a very realistic little
+interlude.
+
+"Bad headache!" he said, smiling.  "By the by, I must go!"
+
+"If you ever did such a thing as work," she remarked, "I should say
+that you, had been doing too much.  As it is, I suppose you have
+been sitting up too late.  Goodbye.  I am so glad that you were here
+to meet Mr. Trent.  Mr. Davenant is my cousin, you know," she
+continued, turning to her visitor, "and he is almost the only one
+of my family who has not cast me off utterly."
+
+Davenant made his adieux with a heavy heart.  He hated the hypocrisy
+with which he hoped for Scarlett Trent's better acquaintance and the
+latter's bluff acceptance of an invitation to look him up at his club.
+He walked out into the street cursing his mad offer to her and the
+whole business.  But Ernestine was very well satisfied.
+
+She led Trent to talk about Africa again, and he plunged into the
+subject without reserve.  He told her stories and experiences with
+a certain graphic and picturesque force which stamped him as the
+possessor of an imaginative power and command of words for which
+she would scarcely have given him credit.  She had the unusual gift
+of making the best of all those with whom she came in contact.
+Trent felt that he was interesting her, and gained confidence in
+himself.
+
+All the time she was making a social estimate of him.  He was not
+by any means impossible.  On the contrary there was no reason why
+he should not become a success.  That he was interested in her was
+already obvious, but that had become her intention.  The task
+began to seem almost easy as she sat and listened to him.
+
+Then he gave her a start.  Quietly and without any warning he
+changed the subject into one which was fraught with embarrassment
+for her.  At his first words the colour faded from her cheeks.
+
+"I've been pretty lucky since I got back.  Things have gone my way
+a bit and the only disappointment I've had worth speaking of has
+been in connection with a matter right outside money.  I've been
+trying to find the daughter of that old partner of mine - I told
+you about her - and I can't."
+
+She changed her seat a little.  There was no need for her to affect
+any interest in what he was saying.  She listened to every word
+intently.
+
+"Monty," he said reflectingly, "was a good old sort in a way, and
+I had an idea, somehow, that his daughter would turn out something
+like the man himself, and at heart Monty was all right.  I didn't
+know who she was or her name - Monty was always precious close, but
+I had the address of a firm of lawyers who knew all about her.  I
+called there the other day and saw an old chap who questioned and
+cross-questioned me until I wasn't sure whether I was on my head or
+my heels, and, after all, he told me to call again this afternoon
+for her address.  I told him of course that Monty died a pauper and
+he'd no share of our concession to will away, but I'd done so well
+that I thought I'd like to make over a trifle to her - in fact I'd
+put away 10,000 pounds worth of Bekwando shares for her.  I called
+this afternoon, and do you know, Miss Wendermott, the young lady
+declined to have anything to say to me - wouldn't let me know who
+she was that I might have gone and talked this over in a friendly
+way with her.  Didn't want money, didn't want to hear about her
+father!"
+
+"You must have been disappointed."
+
+"I'll admit it," he replied.  "I was; I'd come to think pretty well
+of Monty although he was a loose fish and I'd a sort of fancy for
+seeing his daughter."
+
+She took up a screen as though to shield the fire from her face.
+Would the man's eyes never cease questioning her - could it be that
+he suspected?  Surely that was impossible!
+
+"Why have you never tried to find her before?" she asked.
+
+"That's a natural question enough," he admitted.  "Well, first, I
+only came across a letter Monty wrote with the address of those
+lawyers a few days ago, and, secondly, the Bekwando Mine and Land
+Company has only just boomed, and you see that made me feel that
+I'd like to give a lift up to any one belonging to poor old Monty
+I could find.  I've a mind to go on with the thing myself and find
+out somehow who this young lady is!"
+
+"Who were the lawyers?"
+
+"Cuthbert and Cuthbert."
+
+"They are most respectable people," she said.  "I know Mr. Cuthbert
+and their standing is very high.  If Mr. Cuthbert told you that the
+young lady wished to remain unknown to you, I am quite sure that you
+may believe him."
+
+"That's all right," Trent said, "but here's what puzzles me.  The
+girl may be small enough and mean enough to decline to have anything
+to say to me because her father was a bad lot, and she doesn't want
+to be reminded of him, but for that very reason can you imagine her
+virtually refusing a large sum of money?  I told old Cuthbert all
+about it.  There was 10,000 pounds worth of shares waiting for her
+and no need for any fuss.  Can you understand that?"
+
+"It seems very odd," she said.  "Perhaps the girl objects to being
+given money.  It is a large sum to take as a present from a stranger."
+
+"If she is that sort of girl," he said decidedly, "she would at
+least want to meet and talk with the man who saw the last of her
+father.  No, there's something else in it, and I think that I ought
+to find her.  Don't you?"
+
+She hesitated.
+
+"I'm afraid I can't advise you," she said; "only if she has taken
+so much pains to remain unknown, I am not sure - I think that if I
+were you I would assume that she has good reason for it."
+
+"I can see no good reason," he said, "and there is a mystery behind
+it which I fancy would be better cleared up.  Some day I will tell
+you more about it."
+
+Evidently Ernestine was weary of the subject, for she suddenly
+changed it.  She led him on to talk of other things.  When at last
+he glanced at the clock he was horrified to see how long he had
+stayed.
+
+"You'll remember, I hope, Miss Wendermott," he said, "that this is
+the first afternoon call I've ever paid.  I've no idea how long I
+ought to have stayed, but certainly not two hours."
+
+"The time has passed quickly," she said, smiling upon him, so that
+his momentary discomfort passed away.  "I have been very interested
+in the stories of your past, Mr. Trent, but do you know I am quite
+as much interested, more so even, in your future."
+
+"Tell me what you mean," he asked.
+
+"You have so much before you, so many possibilities.  There is so
+much that you may gain, so much that you may miss."
+
+He looked puzzled.
+
+"I have a lot of money," he said.  "That's all!  I haven't any
+friends nor any education worth speaking of.  I don't see quite
+where the possibilities come in."
+
+She crossed the room and came over close to his side, resting her
+arm upon the mantelpiece.  She was still wearing her walking-dress,
+prim and straight in its folds about her tall, graceful figure, and
+her hair, save for the slight waviness about the forehead, was
+plainly dressed.  There were none of the cheap arts about her to
+which Trent had become accustomed in women who sought to attract.
+Yet, as she stood looking down at him, a faint smile, half humorous,
+half satirical, playing about the corners of her shapely mouth, he
+felt his heart beat faster than ever it had done in any African
+jungle.  It was the nervous and emotional side of the man to which
+she appealed.  He felt unlike himself, undergoing a new phase of
+development.  There was something stirring within him which he
+could not understand.
+
+"You haven't any friends," she said softly, "nor any education, but
+you are a millionaire!  That is quite sufficient.  You are a
+veritable Caesar with undiscovered worlds before you."
+
+"I wish I knew what you meant," he said, with some hesitation.
+
+She laughed softly.
+
+"Don't you understand," she said, "that you are the fashion?  Last
+year it was Indian Potentates, the year before it was actors, this
+year it is millionaires.  You have only to announce yourself and you
+may take any place you choose in society.  You have arrived at the
+most auspicious moment.  I can assure you that before many months
+are past you will know more people than ever you have spoken to in
+your life before - men whose names have been household words to you
+and nothing else will be calling you 'old chap' and wanting to sell
+you horses, and women, who last week would look at you through
+lorgnettes as though you were a denizen of some unknown world, will
+be lavishing upon you their choicest smiles and whispering in your
+ear their 'not at home' afternoon.  Oh, it's lucky I'm able to
+prepare you a little for it, or you would be taken quite by storm.
+
+He was unmoved.  He looked at her with a grim tightening of the
+lips.
+
+"I want to ask you this," he said.  "What should I be the better
+for it all?  What use have I for friends who only gather round me
+because I am rich?  Shouldn't I be better off to have nothing to
+do with them, to live my own life, and make my own pleasures?"
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"These people," she said, "of whom I have been speaking are masters
+of the situation.  You can't enjoy money alone!  You want to race,
+hunt, entertain, shoot, join in the revels of country houses!  You
+must be one of them or you can enjoy nothing."
+
+Monty's words were ringing back in his ears.  After all, pleasures
+could be bought - but happiness!
+
+"And you," he said, "you too think that these things you have
+mentioned are the things most to be desired in life?"
+
+A certain restraint crept into her manner.
+
+"Yes," she answered simply.
+
+"I have been told," he said, "that you have given up these things
+to live your life differently.  That you choose to be a worker.
+You have rich relations - you could be rich yourself!"
+
+She looked him steadily in the face.
+
+"You are wrong," she said, "I have no money.  I have not chosen a
+profession willingly - only because I am poor!"
+
+"Ah!"
+
+The monosyllable was mysterious to her.  But for the wild
+improbability of the thing she would have wondered whether indeed he
+knew her secret.  She brushed the idea away.  It was impossible.
+
+"At least," he said, "you belong to these people."
+
+"Yes,"she answered, "I am one of the poor young women of society."
+
+"And you would like," he continued, "to be one of the rich ones - 
+to take your place amongst them on equal terms.  That is what you
+are looking forward to in life!"
+
+She laughed gaily.
+
+"Of course I am!  If there was the least little chance of it I
+should be delighted.  You mustn't think that I'm different from
+other girls in that respect because I'm more independent.  In this
+country there's only one way of enjoying life thoroughly, and that
+you will find out for yourself very soon."
+
+He rose and held out his hand.
+
+"Thank you very much," he said, "for letting me come.  May I - "
+
+"You may come," she said quietly, "as often as you like."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+"Mr. Scarlett Trent, the Gold King, left for Africa on Thursday
+last on the Dunottar Castle, to pay a brief visit to his wonderful
+possessions there before the great Bekwando Mining and Exploration
+Company is offered to the public.  Mr. Trent is already a
+millionaire, and should he succeed in floating the Company on the
+basis of the Prospectus, he will be a multi-millionaire, and
+certainly one of the richest of Englishmen.  During his absence
+workmen are to be kept going night and day at his wonderful palace
+in Park Lane, which he hopes to find ready for occupation on his
+return.  Mr. Trent's long list of financial successes are too well
+known to be given here, but who will grudge wealth to a man who is
+capable of spending it in such a lordly fashion?  We wish Mr. Trent
+a safe voyage and a speedy return."
+
+The paper slipped from his fingers and he looked thoughtfully out
+seaward.  It was only one paragraph of many, and the tone of all
+was the same.  Ernestine' s words had come true - he was already a
+man of note.  A few months had changed his life in the most amazing
+way - when he looked back upon it now it was with a sense of
+unreality - surely all these things which had happened were part
+of a chimerical dream.  It was barely possible for him to believe
+that it was he, Scarlett Trent, who had developed day by day into
+what he was at that moment.  For the man was changed in a hundred
+ways.  His grey flannel clothes was cut by the Saville Row tailor
+of the moment, his hands and hair, his manner of speech and
+carriage were all altered.  He recalled the men he had met, the
+clubs he had joined, his stud of horses at Newmarket, the
+country-houses at which he had visited.  His most clear impression
+of the whole thing was how easy everything had been made for him.
+His oddness of speech, his gaucheries, his ignorances and
+nervousness had all been so lightly treated that they had been
+brushed away almost insensibly.  He had been able to do so little
+that was wrong - his mistakes were ignored or admired as
+originality, and yet in some delicate way the right thing had been
+made clear to him.  Ernestine had stood by his side, always laughing
+at this swift fulfilment of her prophecy, always encouraging him,
+always enigmatic.  Yet at the thought of her a vague sense of
+trouble crept into his heart.  He took a worn photograph from his
+pocket and looked at it long and searchingly, and when he put it
+away he sighed.  It made no difference of course, but he would
+rather have found her like that, the child with sweet, trustful
+eyes and a laughing mouth.  Was there no life at all, then, outside
+this little vortex into which at her bidding he had plunged?  Would
+she never have been content with anything else?  He looked across
+the placid, blue sea to where the sun gleamed like silver on a white
+sail, and sighed again.  He must make himself what she would have
+him.  There was no life for him without her.
+
+The captain came up for his morning chat and some of the passengers,
+who eyed him with obvious respect, lingered for a moment about his
+chair on their promenade.  Trent lit a cigar and presently began to
+stroll up and down himself.  The salt sea-air was a wonderful tonic
+to him after the nervous life of the last few months.  He found his
+spirits rapidly rising.  This voyage had been undertaken in obedience
+to a sudden but overpowering impulse.  It had come to him one night
+that he must know for himself how much truth there was in Da Souza's
+story.  He could not live with the thought that a thunderbolt was
+ever in the skies, that at any moment his life might lie wrecked
+about him.  He was going out by one steamer and back by the next,
+the impending issue of his great Company afforded all the excuse
+that was necessary.  If Da Souza's story was true - well, there were
+many things which might be done, short of a complete disclosure.
+Monty might be satisfied, if plenty of money were forthcoming, to
+abandon his partnership and release the situation from its otherwise
+endless complications.  Trent smoked his cigar placidly and, taking
+off his cap bared his head to the sweeping sea-wind, which seemed
+laden with life and buoyancy.  Suddenly as he swung round by the
+companion-way he found himself confronted by a newcomer who came
+staggering out from the gangway.  There was a moment's recoil and
+a sharp exclamation.  Trent stood quite still and a heavy frown
+darkened his face.
+
+"Da Souza!" he exclaimed.  "How on earth came you on board?"
+
+Da Souza's face was yellower than ever and he wore an ulster
+buttoned up to his chin.  Yet there was a flash of malice in his
+eyes as he answered - 
+
+"I came by late tender at Southampton," he said.
+
+"It cost me a special from London and the agents told me I couldn't
+do it, but here I am, you see!"
+
+"And a poor-looking object you are," Trent said contemptuously.
+"If you've life enough in you to talk, be so good as to tell me what
+the devil you mean by following me like this!"
+
+"I came," Da Souza answered, "in both our interests - chiefly in my
+own!"
+
+"I can believe that," Trent answered shortly, "now speak up.  Tell
+me what you want."
+
+Da Souza groaned and sank down upon a vacant deck-chair.
+
+"I will sit down," he said, "I am not well!  The sea disagrees with
+me horribly.  Well, well, you want to know why I came here!  I can
+answer that question by another.  What are you doing here?  Why are
+you going to Africa?"
+
+"I am going," Trent said, "to see how much truth there was in that
+story you told me.  I am going to see old Monty if he is alive."
+
+Da Souza groaned.
+
+"It is cruel madness," he said, "and you are such an obstinate man!
+Oh dear!  oh dear!"
+
+"I prefer," Trent said, "a crisis now, to ruin in the future.
+Besides, I have the remnants of a conscience."
+
+"You will ruin yourself, and you will ruin me," Da Souza moaned.
+"How am I to have a quarter share if Monty is to come in for half,
+and how are you to repay him all that you would owe on a partnership
+account?  You couldn't do it, Trent.  I've heard of your
+four-in-hand, and your yacht, and your racers, and that beautiful
+house in Park Lane.  I tell you that to part with half your fortune
+would ruin you, and the Bekwando Company could never be floated."
+
+"I don't anticipate parting with half," Trent said coolly.  "Monty
+hasn't long to live - and he ought not to be hard to make terms with."
+
+Da Souza beat his hands upon the handles of his deck-chair.  
+
+"But why go near him at all?  He thinks that you are dead.  He has
+no idea that you are in England.  Why should he know?  Why do you
+risk ruin like this?"
+
+"There are three reasons," Trent answered.  "First, he may find his
+way to England and upset the applecart; secondly, I've only the
+shreds of a conscience, but I can't leave a man whom I'm robbing of
+a fortune in a state of semi-slavery, as I daresay he is, and the
+third reason is perhaps the strongest of all; but I'm not going to
+tell it you."
+
+Da Souza blinked his little eyes and looked up with a cunning smile.
+
+"Your first reason," he said, "is a poor sort of one.  Do you
+suppose I don't have him looked after a bit? - no chance of his
+getting hack to England, I can tell you.  As for the second, he's
+only half-witted, and if he was better off he wouldn't know it."
+
+"Even if I gave way to you in this," Trent answered, "the third
+reason is strong enough."
+
+Da Souza's face was gloomy.  "I know it's no use trying to move you,"
+he said, "but you're on a silly, dangerous, wild goose-chase."
+
+"And what about yourself?" Trent asked.  "I imagine you have some
+other purpose in taking this voyage than just to argue with me."
+
+"I am going to see," Da Souza said, "that you do as little mischief
+as possible."
+
+Trent walked the length of the deck and back.  "Da Souza," he said,
+stopping in front of him, "you're a fool to take this voyage.  You
+know me well enough to be perfectly assured that nothing you could
+say would ever influence me.  There's more behind it.  You've a game
+of your own to play over there.  Now listen !  If I catch you
+interfering with me in any way, we shall meet on more equal terms
+than when you laughed at my revolver at Walton Lodge!  I never was
+over-scrupulous in those old days, Da Souza, you know that, and I
+have a fancy that when I find myself on African soil again I may
+find something of the old man in me yet.  So look out, my friend,
+I've no mind to he trifled with, and, mark me - if harm comes to
+that old man, it will be your life for his, as I'm a living man.
+You were afraid of me once, Da Souza.  I haven't changed so much
+as you may think, and the Gold Coast isn't exactly the centre of
+civilisation.  There !  I've said my say.  The less I see of you
+now till we land, the better I shall be pleased."
+
+He walked away and was challenged by the Doctor to a game of
+shuffleboard.  Da Souza remained in his chair, his eyes blinking
+as though with the sun, and his hands gripping nervously the sides
+of his chair.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+After six weeks' incessant throbbing the great engines were still,
+and the Dunottar Castle lay at anchor a mile or two from the
+African coast and off the town of Attra.  The heat, which in motion
+had been hard enough to bear, was positively stifling now.  The sun
+burned down upon the glassy sea and the white deck till the varnish
+on the rails cracked and blistered, and the sweat streamed like
+water from the faces of the labouring seamen.  Below at the ship's
+side half a dozen surf boats were waiting, manned by Kru boys, who
+alone seemed perfectly comfortable, and cheerful as usual.  All
+around were preparations for landing - boxes were being hauled up
+from the hold, and people were going about in reach of small parcels
+and deck-chairs and missing acquaintances.  Trent, in white linen
+clothes and puggaree, was leaning over the railing, gazing towards
+the town, when Da Souza came up to him - 
+
+"Last morning, Mr. Trent!"
+
+Trent glanced round and nodded.
+
+"Are you disembarking here?" he asked.
+
+Da Souza admitted the fact.  "My brother will meet me," he said.
+"He is very afraid of the surf-boats, or he would have come out to
+the steamer.  You remember him?"
+
+"Yes, I remember him," Trent answered.  "He was not the sort of
+person one forgets."
+
+"He is a very rough diamond," Da Souza said apologetically.  "He has
+lived here so long that he has become almost half a native."
+
+"And the other half a thief," Trent muttered.
+
+Da Souza was not in the least offended.
+
+"I am afraid," he admitted, "that his morals are not up to the
+Threadneedle Street pitch, eh, Mr. Trent?  But he has made quite a
+great deal of money.  Oh, quite a sum I can assure you.  He sends
+me some over to invest!"
+
+"Well, if he's carrying on the same old game," Trent remarked, "he
+ought to be coining it!  By the by, of course he knows exactly where
+Monty is?"
+
+"It is what I was about to say," Da Souza assented, with a vigorous
+nod of the head.  "Now, my dear Mr. Trent, I know that you will have
+your way.  It is no use my trying to dissuade you, so listen.  You
+shall waste no time in searching for Monty.  My brother will tell
+you exactly where he is."
+
+Trent hesitated.  He would have preferred to have nothing at all to
+do with Da Souza, and the very thought of Oom Sam made him shudder.
+On the other hand, time was valuable to him and he might waste
+weeks looking for the man whom Oom Sam could tell him at once where
+to find.  On the whole, it was better to accept Da Souza's offer.
+
+"Very well, Da Souza," he said, "I have no time to spare in this
+country and the sooner I get back to England the better for all of
+us.  If your brother knows where Monty is, so much the better for
+both of us.  We will land together and meet him."
+
+Already the disembarking had commenced.  Da Souza and Trent took
+their places side by side on the broad, flat-bottomed boat, and
+soon they were off shorewards and the familiar song of the Kru boys
+as they bent over their oars greeted their ears.  The excitement
+of the last few strokes was barely over before they sprang upon the
+beach and were surrounded by a little crowd, on the outskirts of
+whom was Oom Sam.  Trent was seized upon by an Englishman who was
+representing the Bekwando Land and Mining Investment Company and,
+before he could regain Da Souza, a few rapid sentences had passed
+between the latter and his brother in Portuguese.  Oom Sam
+advanced to Trent hat in hand - 
+
+"Welcome back to Attra, senor?"
+
+Trent nodded curtly.
+
+"Place isn't much changed," he remarked.
+
+"It is very slowly here," Oom Sam said, "that progress is made!
+The climate is too horrible.  It makes dead sheep of men."
+
+"You seem to hang on pretty well," Trent remarked carelessly.
+"Been up country lately?"
+
+"I was trading with the King of Bekwando a month ago," Oom Sam
+answered.
+
+"Palm-oil and mahogany for vile rum I suppose," Trent said.
+
+The man extended his hands and shrugged his shoulders.  The old
+gesture.
+
+"They will have it," he said.  "Shall we go to the hotel, Senor
+Trent, and rest?"
+
+Trent nodded, and the three men scrambled up the beach, across
+an open space, and gained the shelter of a broad balcony, shielded
+by a striped awning which surrounded the plain white stone hotel.
+A Kru boy welcomed them with beaming face and fetched them drinks
+upon a Brummagem tray.  Trent turned to the Englishman who had
+followed them up.
+
+"To-morrow," he said, "I shall see you about the contracts.  My
+first business is a private matter with these gentlemen.  Will you
+come up here and breakfast with me?"
+
+The Englishman, a surveyor from a London office, assented with
+enthusiasm.
+
+"I can't offer to put you up," he said gloomily.  "Living out here's
+beastly.  See you in the morning, then."
+
+He strolled away, fanning himself.  Trent lit a long cigar.
+
+"I understand," he said turning to Oom Sam, "that old Monty is alive
+still.  If so, it's little short of a miracle, for I left him with
+scarcely a gasp in his body, and I was nearly done myself.
+
+"It was," Oom Sam said, "veree wonderful.  The natives who were
+chasing you, they found him and then the Englishman whom you met in
+Bekwando on his way inland, he rescued him.  You see that little
+white house with a flagstaff yonder?"
+
+He pointed to a little one-storey building about a mile away along
+the coast.  Trent nodded.
+
+"That is," Oom Sam said, "a station of the Basle Mission and old
+Monty is there.  You can go and see him any time you like, but he
+will not know you."
+
+"Is he as far gone as that?" Trent asked slowly.
+
+"His mind," Oom Sam said, "is gone.  One little flickering spark of
+life goes on.  A day!  a week!  who can tell how long?"
+
+"Has he a doctor?" Trent asked.
+
+"The missionary, he is a medical man," Oom Sam explained.  "Yet he
+is long past the art of medicine."
+
+It seemed to Trent, turning at that moment to relight his cigar,
+that a look of subtle intelligence was flashed from one to the
+other of the brothers.  He paused with the match in his fingers,
+puzzled, suspicious, anxious.  So there was some scheme hatched
+already between these precious pair!  It was time indeed that he
+had come.
+
+"There was something else I wanted to ask," he said a moment or
+two later.  "What about the man Francis.  Has he been heard of
+lately?"
+
+Oom Sam shook his head.
+
+"Ten months ago," he answered, "a trader from Lulabulu reported
+having passed him on his way to the interior.  He spoke of visiting
+Sugbaroo, another country beyond.  If he ventured there, he will
+surely never return."
+
+Trent set down his glass without a word, and called to some Kru boys
+in the square who carried litters.
+
+"I am going," he said, "to find Monty."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+An old man, with his face turned to the sea, was making a weary
+attempt at digging upon a small potato patch.  The blaze of the
+tropical sun had become lost an hour or so before in a strange, grey
+mist, rising not from the sea, but from the swamps which lay here
+and there - brilliant, verdant patches of poison and pestilence.
+With the mist came a moist, sticky heat, the air was fetid.  Trent
+wiped the perspiration from his forehead and breathed hard.  This
+was an evil moment for him.
+
+Monty turned round at the sound of his approaching footsteps.  The
+two men stood face to face.  Trent looked eagerly for some sign of
+recognition - none came.
+
+"Don't you know me?" Trent said huskily.  "I'm Scarlett Trent - we
+went up to Bekwando together, you know.  I thought you were dead,
+Monty, or I wouldn't have left you."
+
+"Eh!  What!"
+
+Monty mumbled for a moment or two and was silent.  A look of dull
+disappointment struggled with the vacuity of his face.  Trent
+noticed that his hands were shaking pitifully and his eyes were
+bloodshot.
+
+"Try and think, Monty," he went on, drawing a step nearer to him.
+"Don't you remember what a beastly time we had up in the bush - how
+they kept us day after day in that villainous hut because it was
+a fetish week, and how after we had got the concessions those
+confounded niggers followed us!  They meant our lives, Monty, and
+I don't know how you escaped!  Come!  make an effort and pull
+yourself together.  We're rich men now, both of us.  You must come
+back to England and help me spend a bit."
+
+Monty had recovered a little his power of speech.  He leaned over
+his spade and smiled benignly at his visitor.
+
+"There was a Trentham in the Guards," he said slowly, "the Honourable
+George Trentham, you know, one of poor Abercrombie's sons, but I
+thought he was dead.  You must dine with me one night at the
+Travellers'!  I've given up eating myself, but I'm always thirsty."
+
+He looked anxiously away towards the town and began to mumble.  Trent
+was in despair.  Presently he began again.
+
+"I used to belong to the Guards, - always dined there till Jacques
+left.  Afterwards the cooking was beastly, and - I can't quite
+remember where I went then.  You see - I think I must be getting old.
+I don't remember things.  Between you and me," he sidled a little
+closer to Trent, "I think I must have got into a bit of a scrape of
+some sort - I feel as though there was a blank somewhere...."
+
+Again he became unintelligible.  Trent was silent for several
+minutes.  He could not understand that strained, anxious look which 
+crept into Monty's face every time he faced the town.  Then he made
+his last effort.
+
+"Monty, do you remember this?"
+
+Zealously guarded, yet a little worn at the edges and faded, he
+drew the picture from its case and held it before the old man's
+blinking eyes.  There was a moment of suspense, then a sharp,
+breathless cry which ended in a wail.
+
+"Take it away," Monty moaned.  "I lost it long ago.  I don't want
+to see it!  I don't want to think."
+
+"I have come," Trent said, with an unaccustomed gentleness in his
+tone, "to make you think.  I want you to remember that that is a
+picture of your daughter.  You are rich now and there is no reason
+why you should not come back to her.  Don't you understand, Monty?"
+
+It was a grey, white face, shrivelled and pinched, weak eyes without
+depth, a vapid smile in which there was no meaning.  Trent, carried
+away for a moment by an impulse of pity, felt only disappointment at
+the hopelessness of his task.  He would have been honestly glad to
+have taken the Monty whom he had known back to England, but not this
+man!  For already that brief flash of awakened life seemed to have
+died away.  Monty's head was wagging feebly and he was casting
+continually little, furtive glances towards the town.
+
+"Please go away," he said.  "I don't know you and you give me a
+pain in my head.  Don't you know what it is to feel a buzz, buzz,
+buzzing inside?  I can't remember things.  It's no use trying."
+
+"Monty, why do you look so often that way?" Trent said quietly.
+"Is some one coming out from the town to see you?"
+
+Monty threw a quick glance at him and Trent sighed.  For the glance
+was full of cunning, the low cunning of the lunatic criminal.
+
+"No one, no one," he said hastily.  "Who should come to see me?
+I'm only poor Monty.  Poor old Monty's got no friends.  Go away
+and let me dig."
+
+Trent walked a few paces apart, and passed out of the garden to a
+low, shelving bank and looked downward where a sea of glass rippled
+on to the broad, firm sands.  What a picture of desolation!  The
+grey, hot mist, the whitewashed cabin, the long, ugly potato patch,
+the weird, pathetic figure of that old man from whose brain the
+light of life had surely passed for ever.  And yet Trent was puzzled.
+Monty's furtive glance inland, his half-frightened, half-cunning
+denial of any anticipated visit suggested that there was some one
+else who was interested in his existence, and some one too with whom
+he shared a secret.  Trent lit a cigar and sat down upon the sandy
+turf.  Monty resumed his digging.  Trent watched him through the
+leaves of a stunted tree, underneath which he had thrown himself.
+
+For an hour or more nothing happened.  Trent smoked, and Monty, who
+had apparently forgotten all about his visitor, plodded away amongst
+the potato furrows, with every now and then a long, searching look
+towards the town.  Then there came a black speck stealing across
+the broad rice-field and up the steep hill, a speck which in time
+took to itself the semblance of a man, a Kru boy, naked as he was
+born save for a ragged loin-cloth, and clutching something in his
+hand.  He was invisible to Trent until he was close at hand; it was
+Monty whose changed attitude and deportment indicated the approach
+of something interesting.  He had relinquished his digging and,
+after a long, stealthy glance towards the house, had advanced to
+the extreme boundary of the potato patch.  His behaviour here for
+the first time seemed to denote the hopeless lunatic.  He swung his
+long arms backward and forwards, cracking his fingers, and talked
+unintelligibly to himself, hoarse, guttural murmurings without
+sense or import.  Trent changed his place and for the first time
+saw the Kru boy.  His face darkened and an angry exclamation broke
+from his lips.  It was something like this which he had been
+expecting.
+
+The Kru boy drew nearer and nearer.  Finally he stood upright on
+the rank, coarse grass and grinned at Monty, whose lean hands were
+outstretched towards him.  He fumbled for a moment in his loin-cloth.
+Then he drew out a long bottle and handed it up.  Trent stepped out
+as Monty's nervous fingers were fumbling with the cork.  He made a
+grab at the boy who glided off like an eel.  Instantly he whipped
+out a revolver and covered him.
+
+"Come here," he cried.
+
+The boy shook his head.  "No understand."
+
+"Who sent you here with that filthy stuff?" he asked sternly.  "You'd
+best answer me."
+
+The Kru boy, shrinking away from the dark muzzle of that motionless
+revolver, was spellbound with fear.  He shook his head.
+
+"No understand."
+
+There was a flash of light, a puff of smoke, a loud report.  The
+Kru boy fell forward upon his face howling with fear.  Monty ran
+off towards the house mumbling to himself.
+
+"The next time," Trent said coolly, "I shall fire at you instead of
+at the tree.  Remember I have lived out here and I know all about
+you and your kind.  You can understand me very well if you choose,
+and you've just got to.  Who sends you here with that vile stuff?"
+
+"Massa, I tell!  Massa Oom Sam, he send me!"
+
+"And what is the stuff?"
+
+"Hamburgh gin, massa!  very good liquor!  Please, massa, point him
+pistol the other way."
+
+Trent took up the flask, smelt its contents and threw it away with
+a little exclamation of disgust.
+
+"How often have you been coming here on this errand?" he asked
+sternly.
+
+"Most every day, massa - when him Mr. Price away."
+
+Trent nodded.
+
+"Very good," he said.  "Now listen to me.  If ever I catch you
+round here again or anywhere else on such an errand, I'll shoot
+you like a dog.  Now be off."
+
+The boy bounded away with a broad grin of relief.  Trent walked up
+to the house and asked for the missionary's wife.  She came to him
+soon, in what was called the parlour.  A frail, anaemic-looking
+woman with tired eyes and weary expression.
+
+"I'm sorry to trouble you, Mrs. Price," Trent said, plunging at once
+into his subject, "but I want to speak to you about this old man,
+Monty.  You've had him some time now, haven't you?"
+
+"About four years," she answered.  "Captain Francis left him with
+my husband; I believe he found him in one of the villages inland,
+a prisoner."
+
+Trent nodded.
+
+"He left you a little money with him, I believe."
+
+The woman smiled faintly.
+
+"It was very little," she said, "but such as it is, we have never
+touched it.  He eats scarcely anything and we consider that the
+little work he has done has about paid us for keeping him."
+
+"Did you know," Trent asked bluntly, "that he had been a drunkard?"
+
+"Captain Francis hinted as much," the woman answered.  "That was
+one reason why he wanted to leave him with us.  He knew that we did
+not allow anything in the house."
+
+"It was a pity," Trent said, "that you could not have watched him
+a little more out of it.  Why, his brain is sodden with drink now!"
+
+The woman was obviously honest in her amazement.  "How can that be?"
+she exclaimed.  "He has absolutely no money and he never goes off
+our land."
+
+"He has no need," Trent answered bitterly.  "There are men in Attra
+who want him dead, and they have been doing their best to hurry him
+off.  I caught a Kru boy bringing him gin this afternoon.  Evidently
+it has been a regular thing."
+
+"I am very sorry indeed to hear this," the woman said, "and I am
+sure my husband will be too.  He will feel that, in a certain
+measure, he has betrayed Captain Francis's trust.  At the same time
+we neither of us had any idea that anything of this sort was to be
+feared, or we would have kept watch."
+
+"You cannot be blamed," Trent said.  "I am satisfied that you knew
+nothing about it.  Now I am going to let you into a secret.  Monty
+is a rich man if he had his rights, and I want to help him to them.
+I shall take him back to England with me, but I can't leave for a
+week or so.  If you can keep him till then and have some one to
+watch him day and night, I'll give your husband a hundred pounds for
+your work here, and build you a church.  It's all right!  Don't look
+as though I were mad.  I'm a very rich man, that's all, and I shan't
+miss the money, but I want to feel that Monty is safe till I can
+start back to England.  Will you undertake this?"
+
+"Yes," the woman answered promptly, "we will.  We'll do our honest
+best."
+
+Trent laid a bank-note upon the table.
+
+"Just to show I'm in earnest," he remarked, rising.  "I shall be
+up-country for about a month.  Look after the old chap well and
+you'll never regret it."
+
+Trent went thoughtfully back to the town.  He had committed himself
+now to a definite course of action.  He had made up his mind to take
+Monty back with him to England and face the consequences.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+On the summit of a little knoll, with a pipe between his teeth and
+his back against a palm-tree, Trent was lounging away an hour of
+the breathless night.  Usually a sound sleeper, the wakefulness,
+which had pursued him from the instant his head had touched his
+travelling pillow an hour or so back, was not only an uncommon
+occurrence, but one which seemed proof against any effort on his
+part to overcome it.  So he had risen and stolen away from the
+little camp where his companions lay wrapped in heavy slumber.  They
+had closed their eyes in a dense and tropical darkness - so thick
+indeed that they had lit a fire, notwithstanding the stifling heat,
+to remove that vague feeling of oppression which chaos so complete
+seemed to bring with it.  Its embers burnt now with a faint and
+sickly glare in the full flood of yellow moonlight which had
+fallen upon the country.  From this point of vantage Trent could
+trace backwards their day's march for many miles, the white posts
+left by the surveyor even were visible, and in the background rose
+the mountains of Bekwando.  It had been a hard week's work for
+Trent.  He had found chaos, discontent, despair.  The English agent
+of the Bekwando Land Company was on the point of cancelling his
+contract, the surveyors were spending valuable money without making
+any real attempt to start upon their undoubtedly difficult task.
+Everywhere the feeling seemed to be that the prosecution of his
+schemes was an impossibility.  The road was altogether in the clouds.
+Trent was flatly told that the labour they required was absolutely
+unprocurable.  Fortunately Trent knew the country, and he was a man
+of resource.  From the moment when he had appeared upon the spot,
+things had begun to right themselves.  He had found Oom Sam
+established as a sort of task-master and contractor, and had
+promptly dismissed him, with the result that the supply of Kru boys
+was instantly doubled.  He had found other sources of labour and
+started them at once on clearing work, scornfully indifferent to the
+often-expressed doubts of the English surveyor as to possibility of
+making the road at all.  He had chosen overseers with that swift
+and intuitive insight into character which in his case amounted
+almost to genius.  With a half-sheet of notepaper and a pencil, he
+had mapped out a road which had made one, at least, of the two
+surveyors thoughtful, and had largely increased his respect for the
+English capitalist.  Now he was on his way back from a tour almost
+to Bekwando itself by the route of the proposed road.  Already the
+work of preparation had begun.  Hundreds of natives left in their
+track were sawing down palm-trees, cutting away the bush, digging
+and making ready everywhere for that straight, wide thoroughfare
+which was to lead from Bekwando village to the sea-coast.  Cables
+as to his progress had already been sent back to London.  Apart from
+any other result, Trent knew that he had saved the Syndicate a
+fortune by his journey here.
+
+The light of the moon grew stronger - the country lay stretched out
+before him like a map.  With folded arms and a freshly-lit pipe
+Trent leaned with his back against the tree and fixed eyes.  At
+first he saw nothing but that road, broad and white, stretching to
+the horizon and thronged with oxen-drawn wagons.  Then the fancy
+suddenly left him and a girl's face seemed to be laughing into his
+ - a face which was ever changing, gay and brilliant one moment,
+calm and seductively beautiful the next.  He smoked his pipe
+furiously, perplexed and uneasy.  One moment the face was Ernestine's,
+the next it was Monty's little girl laughing up at him from the worn
+and yellow tin-type.  The promise of the one - had it been fulfilled
+in the woman?  At least he knew that here was the one great weakness
+of his life.  The curious flood of sentiment, which had led him to
+gamble for the child's picture, had merged with equal suddenness
+into passion at the coming of her later presentment.  High above
+all his plans for the accumulation of power and wealth, he set
+before him now a desire which had become the moving impulse of his
+life - a desire primitive but overmastering - the desire of a strong
+man for the woman he loves.  In London he had scarcely dared admit
+so much even to himself.  Here, in this vast solitude, he was more
+master of himself - dreams which seemed to him the most beautiful
+and the most daring which he had ever conceived, filled his brain
+and stirred his senses till the blood in his veins seemed flowing
+to a new and wonderful music.  Those were wonderful moments for him.
+
+His pipe was nearly out, and a cooler breeze was stealing over the
+plain.  After all, perhaps an hour or so's sleep would be possible
+now.  He stretched himself and yawned, cast one more glance across
+the moonlit plain, and then stood suddenly still, stiffened into an
+attitude of breathless interest.  Yonder, between two lines of
+shrubs, were moving bodies - men, footsore and weary, crawling
+along with slow, painful movements; one at least of them was a
+European, and even at that distance Trent could tell that they were
+in grievous straits.  He felt for his revolver, and, finding that
+it was in his belt, descended the hill quickly towards them.
+
+With every step which he took he could distinguish them more
+plainly.  There were five Kru boys, a native of a tribe which he
+did not recognise, and a European who walked with reeling footsteps,
+and who, it was easy to see, was on the point of exhaustion.  Soon
+they saw him, and a feeble shout greeted his approach.  Trent was
+within hailing distance before he recognised the European.  Then,
+with a little exclamation of surprise, he saw that it was Captain
+Francis.
+
+They met face to face in a moment, but Francis never recognised him.
+His eyes were bloodshot, a coarse beard disguised his face, and his
+clothes hung about him in rags.  Evidently he was in a terrible
+plight.  When he spoke his voice sounded shrill and cracked.
+
+"We are starving men," he said; "can you help us?"
+
+"Of course we can," Trent answered quickly.  "This way.  We've
+plenty of stores."
+
+The little party stumbled eagerly after him.  In a few moments they
+were at the camp.  Trent roused his companions, packages were
+hastily undone and a meal prepared.  Scarcely a word was said or a
+question asked.  One or two of the Kru boys seemed on the verge of
+insanity - Francis himself was hysterical and faint.  Trent boiled
+a kettle and made some beef-tea himself.  The first mouthful Francis
+was unable to swallow.  His throat had swollen and his eyes were
+hideously bloodshot.  Trent, who had seen men before in dire straits,
+fed him from a spoon and forced brandy between his lips.  Certainly,
+at the time, he never stopped to consider that he was helping back
+to life the man who in all the world was most likely to do him ill.
+
+"Better?" he asked presently.
+
+"Much.  What luck to find you.  What are you after - gold?"
+
+Trent shook his head.
+
+"Not at present.  We're planning out the new road from Attra to
+Bekwando."
+
+Francis looked up with surprise.
+
+"Never heard of it," he said; "but there's trouble ahead for you.
+They are dancing the war-dance at Bekwando, and the King has been
+shut up for three days with the priest and never opened his mouth.
+We were on our way from the interior, and relied upon them for food
+and drink.  They've always been friendly, but this time we barely
+escaped with our lives."
+
+Trent's face grew serious.  This was bad news for him, and he was
+thankful that they had not carried out their first plan and
+commenced their prospecting at Bekwando village.
+
+"We have a charter," he said, "and, if necessary, we must fight.
+I'm glad to be prepared though."
+
+"A charter!"  Francis pulled himself together and looked curiously
+at the man who was still bending over him.
+
+"Great Heavens!" he exclaimed, "why, you are Scarlett Trent, the
+man whom I met with poor Villiers in Bekwando years ago."
+
+Trent nodded.
+
+"We waited for you," he said, "to witness our concession.  I thought
+that you would remember."
+
+"I thought," Francis said slowly, "that there was something familiar
+about you....  I remember it all now.  You were gambling with poor
+old Monty for his daughter's picture against a bottle of brandy."
+
+Trent winced a little.
+
+"You have an excellent memory," he said drily.
+
+Francis raised himself a little, and a fiercer note crept into his
+tone.
+
+"It is coming back to me," he said.  "I remember more about you now,
+Scarlett Trent.  You are the man who left his partner to die in a
+jungle, that you might rob him of his share in the concession.  Oh
+yes, you see my memory is coming back!  I have an account against
+you, my man."
+
+"It's a lie!" said Trent passionately.  "When I left him, I honestly
+believed him to be a dead man."
+
+
+"How many people will believe that?" Francis scoffed.  "I shall
+take Monty with me to England.  I have finished with this country
+for awhile - and then - and then - "
+
+He was exhausted, and sank back speechless.  Trent sat and watched
+him, smoking in thoughtful silence.  They two were a little apart
+from the others, and Francis was fainting.  A hand upon his throat
+ - a drop from that phial in the medicine-chest - and his faint
+would carry him into eternity.  And still Trent sat and smoked.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+It was Trent himself who kept watch through that last long hour of
+moonlit darkness till the wan morning broke.  With its faint, grey
+streaks came the savages of Bekwando, crawling up in a semicircle
+through the long, rough grass, then suddenly, at a signal, bounding
+upright with spears poised in their hands - an ugly sight in the
+dim dawn for men chilled with the moist, damp air and only
+half-awake.  But Trent had not been caught napping.  His stealthy
+call to arms had aroused them in time at least to crawl behind some
+shelter and grip their rifles.  The war-cry of the savages was met
+with a death-like quiet - there were no signs of confusion nor
+terror.  A Kru boy, who called out with fright, was felled to the
+ground by Trent with a blow which would have staggered an ox.  With
+their rifles in hand, and every man stretched flat upon the ground,
+Trent's little party lay waiting.  Barely a hundred yards separated
+them, yet there was no sign of life from the camp.  The long line
+of savages advanced a few steps more, their spears poised above
+their heads, their half-naked forms showing more distinctly as they
+peered forward through the grey gloom, savage and ferocious.  The
+white men were surely sleeping still.  They were as near now as they
+could get.  There was a signal and then a wild chorus of yells.
+They threw aside all disguise and darted forward, the still morning
+air hideous with their cry of battle.  Then, with an awful
+suddenness, their cry became the cry of death, for out from the
+bushes belched a yellow line of fire as the rifles of Trent and his
+men rang out their welcome.  A dozen at least of the men of Bekwando
+looked never again upon the faces of their wives, the rest hesitated.
+Trent, in whom was the love of fighting, made then his first mistake.
+He called for a sally, and rushed out, revolver in hand, upon the
+broken line.  Half the blacks ran away like rabbits; the remainder,
+greatly outnumbering Trent and his party, stood firm.  In a moment
+it was hand-to-hand fighting, and Trent was cursing already the
+bravado which had brought him out to the open.
+
+For a while it was a doubtful combat.  Then, with a shout of triumph,
+the chief, a swarthy, thick-set man of herculean strength, recognised
+Francis and sprang upon him.  The blow which he aimed would most
+surely have killed him, but that Trent, with the butt-end of a rifle,
+broke its force a little.  Then, turning round, he blew out the man's
+brains as Francis sank backwards.  A dismal yell from his followers
+was the chief's requiem; then they turned and fled, followed by a
+storm of bullets as Trent's men found time to reload.  More than one
+leaped into the air and fell forward upon their faces.  The fight
+was over, and, when they came to look round, Francis was the only
+man who had suffered.
+
+Morning had dawned even whilst they had been fighting.  Little
+wreaths of mist were curling upwards, and the sun shone down with
+a cloudless, golden light, every moment more clear as the vapours
+melted away.  Francis was lying upon his face groaning heavily; the
+Kru boys, to whom he was well known, were gathered in a little
+circle around him.  Trent brushed them on one side and made a brief
+examination.  Then he had him carried carefully into one of the
+tents while he went for his medicine-chest.
+
+Preparations for a start were made, but Trent was thoughtful.  For
+the second time within a few hours this man, in whose power it was
+to ruin him, lay at his mercy.  That he had saved his life went for
+nothing.  In the heat of battle there had been no time for thought
+or calculation.  Trent had simply obeyed the generous instinct of a
+brave man whose blood was warm with the joy of fighting.  Now it
+was different.  Trent was seldom sentimental, but from the first he
+had had an uneasy presentiment concerning this man who lay now
+within his power and so near to death.  A mutual antipathy seemed
+to have been born between them from the first moment when they had
+met in the village of Bekwando.  As though it were yesterday, he
+remembered that leave-taking and Francis's threatening words.  Trent
+had always felt that the man was his enemy - certainly the power to
+do him incalculable harm, if not to altogether ruin him, was his now.
+And he would not hesitate about it.  Trent knew that, although
+broadly speaking he was innocent of any desire to harm or desert
+Monty, no power on earth would ever convince Francis of that.
+Appearances were, and always must be, overwhelmingly against him.
+Without interference from any one he had already formulated plans
+for quietly putting Monty in his rightful position, and making over
+to him his share in the Bekwando Syndicate.  But to arrange this
+without catastrophe would need skill and tact; interference from
+any outside source would be fatal, and Francis meant to interfere
+ - nothing would stop him.  Trent walked backwards and forwards with
+knitted brows, glancing every now and then at the unconscious man.
+Francis would certainly interfere if he were allowed to recover!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+A fortnight afterwards Trent rode into Attra, pale, gaunt, and
+hollow-eyed.  The whole history of those days would never be known
+by another man!  Upon Trent they had left their mark for ever.
+Every hour of his time in this country he reckoned of great value
+ - yet he had devoted fourteen days to saving the life of John
+Francis.  Such days too - and such nights!  They had carried him
+sometimes in a dead stupor, sometimes a raving madman, along a wild
+bush-track across rivers and swamps into the town of Garba, where
+years ago a Congo trader, who had made a fortune, had built a little
+white-washed hospital !  He was safe now, but surely never a man
+before had walked so near the "Valley of the Shadow of Death."  A
+single moment's vigilance relaxed, a blanket displaced, a dose of
+brandy forgotten, and Trent might have walked this life a
+multi-millionaire, a peer, a little god amongst his fellows, freed
+for ever from all anxiety.  But Francis was tended as never a man
+was tended before.  Trent himself had done his share of the carrying,
+ever keeping his eyes fixed upon the death-lit face of their burden,
+every ready to fight off the progress of the fever and ague, as the
+twitching lips or shivering limbs gave warning of a change.  For
+fourteen days he had not slept; until they had reached Garba his
+clothes had never been changed since they had started upon their
+perilous journey.  As he rode into Attra he reeled a little in his
+saddle, and he walked into the office of the Agent more like a ghost
+than a man.
+
+Two men, Cathcart and his assistant, who was only a boy, were
+lounging in low chairs.  As he entered they looked up, exchanging
+quick, startled glances.  Then Cathcart gave vent to a little
+exclamation.
+
+"Great Heavens, Trent, what have you been doing?"  Trent sank into
+a chair.  "Get me some wine," he said.  "I am all right but
+over-tired."
+
+Cathcart poured champagne into a tumbler.  Trent emptied it at a
+gulp and asked for biscuits.  The man's recuperative powers were
+wonderful.  Already the deathly whiteness was passing from his cheeks.
+
+"Where is Da Souza?" he asked.
+
+"Gone back to England," Cathcart answered, looking out of the open
+casement shaded from the sun by the sloping roof.  "His steamer
+started yesterday."
+
+Trent was puzzled.  He scarcely understood this move.
+
+"Did he give any reason?"
+
+Cathcart smoked for a moment in silence.  After all though a
+disclosure would be unpleasant, it was inevitable and as well now
+as any time.  "I think," Cathcart said, "that he has gone to try
+and sell his shares in the Bekwando concessions."
+
+"Gone - to - sell - his - shares!" Trent repeated slowly.  "You
+mean to say that he has gone straight from here to put a hundred
+thousand Bekwando shares upon the market?"
+
+Cathcart nodded.
+
+He said so!
+
+"And why?  Did he tell you that?"
+
+"He has come to the conclusion," Cathcart said, "that the scheme
+is impracticable altogether and the concessions worthless.  He is
+going to get what he can for his shares while he has the chance."
+
+Trent drained his tumbler and lit a cigar.  "So much for Da Souza,"
+he said.  "And now I should like to know, Mr. Stanley Cathcart,
+what the devil you and your assistant are doing shacking here in
+the cool of the day when you are the servants of the Bekwando
+Company and there's work to be done of the utmost importance?  The
+whole place seems to be asleep.  Where's your labour?  There's not
+a soul at work.  We planned exactly when to start the road.  What
+the mischief do you mean by wasting a fortnight?"
+
+Cathcart coughed and was obviously ill-at-ease, but he answered
+with some show of dignity.
+
+"I have come to the conclusion, Mr. Trent, that the making of the
+road is impracticable and useless.  There is insufficient labour
+and poor tools, no satisfactory method of draining the swampy
+country, and further, I don't think any one would work with the
+constant fear of an attack from those savages."
+
+"So that's your opinion, is it?" Trent said grimly.
+
+"That is my opinion," Cathcart answered.  "I have embodied it in a
+report which I despatched to the secretary of the Company by Mr.
+Da Souza."
+
+Trent rose and opened the door which swung into the little room.
+
+"Out you go!" he said fiercely.
+
+Cathcart looked at him in blank astonishment.
+
+"What do you mean?" he exclaimed.  "These are my quarters!"
+
+"They're nothing of the sort," Trent answered.  "They are the
+headquarters in this country of the Bekwando Company, with which
+you have nothing to do!  Out you go!"
+
+"Don't talk rubbish!" Cathcart said angrily.  "I'm the authorised
+and properly appointed surveyor here!"
+
+"You're a liar!" Trent answered, "you've no connection at all with
+the Company!  you're dismissed, sir, for incompetence and cowardice,
+and if you're not off the premises in three minutes it'll be the
+worse for you!"
+
+"You - you - haven't the power to do this," Cathcart stuttered.
+
+Trent laughed.
+
+"We'll see about that," he said.  "I never had much faith in you,
+sir, and I guess you only got the job by a rig.  But out you go now,
+sharp.  If there's anything owing you, you can claim it in London.
+
+"There are all my clothes - " Cathcart began.
+
+Trent laid his hands upon his shoulders and threw him softly outside.
+
+"I'll send your clothes to the hotel," he said.  "Take my advice,
+young man, and keep out of my sight till you can find a steamer to
+take you where they'll pay you for doing nothing.  You're the sort
+of man who irritates me and it's a nasty climate for getting angry
+in!"
+
+Cathcart picked himself up.  "Well, I should like to know who's
+going to make your road," he said spitefully.
+
+"I'll make it myself," Trent roared.  "Don't you think a little
+thing like some stupid laws of science will stand in my way, or the
+way of a man who knows his own mind.  I tell you I'll level that
+road from the tree there which we marked as the starting-point to
+the very centre of Bekwando."
+
+He slammed the door and re-entered the room.  The boy was there,
+sitting upon the office stool hard at work with a pair of compasses.
+
+"What the devil are you doing there?" Trent asked.  "Out you go
+with your master!"
+
+The boy looked up.  He had a fair, smooth face, but lips like
+Trent's own.
+
+"I'm just thinking about that first bend by Kurru corner, sir," he
+said, "I'm not sure about the level."
+
+Trent's face relaxed.  He held out his hand.
+
+"My boy," he said, "I'll make your fortune as sure as my name is
+Scarlett Trent!"
+
+"We'll make that road anyway," the boy answered, with a smile.
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+After a rest Trent climbed the hill to the Basle Mission House.
+There was no sign of Monty on the potato patch, and the woman who
+opened the door started when she saw him.
+
+"How is he?" Trent asked quickly.
+
+The woman looked at him in wonder.
+
+"Why, he's gone, sir - gone with the Jewish gentleman who said that
+you had sent him."
+
+"Where to?" Trent asked quickly.
+
+"Why, to England in the Ophir!" the woman answered.
+                                                     
+Then Trent began to feel that, after all, the struggle of his life
+was only beginning.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+It was then perhaps that Trent fought the hardest battle of his
+life.  The start was made with only a dozen Kru boys, Trent himself,
+stripped to the shirt, labouring amongst them spade in hand.  In a
+week the fishing boats were deserted, every one was working on the
+road.  The labour was immense, but the wages were magnificent.  Real
+progress was made and the boy's calculations were faultless.  Trent
+used the cable freely.
+
+"Have dismissed Cathcart for incompetence - road started - progress
+magnificent," he wired one week, and shortly afterwards a message
+came back - "Cathcart cables resigned - scheme impossible - shares
+dropping - wire reply."
+
+Trent clenched his fist, and his language made the boy, who had
+never heard him violent, look up in surprise.  Then he put on his
+coat and walked out to the cable station.
+
+"Cathcart lies.  I dismissed him for cowardice and incompetence.
+The road is being made and I pledge my word that it will be finished
+in six months.  Let our friends sell no shares."
+
+Then Trent went back and, hard as he had worked before, he surpassed
+it all now.  Far and wide he sent ever with the same inquiry - for
+labour and stores.  He spent money like water, but he spent from a
+bottomless purse.  Day after day Kru boys, natives and Europeans
+down on their luck, came creeping in.  Far away across the rolling
+plain the straight belt of flint-laid road-bed stretched to the
+horizon, one gang in advance cutting turf, another beating in the
+small stones.  The boy grew thin and bronzed, Trent and he toiled
+as though their lives hung upon the work.  So they went on till the
+foremost gang came close to the forests, beyond which lay the
+village of Bekwando.
+
+Then began the period of the greatest anxiety, for Trent and the
+boy and a handful of the others knew what would have sent half of
+the natives flying from their work if a whisper had got abroad.  A
+few soldiers were drafted down from the Fort, arms were given out
+to all those who could be trusted to use them and by night men
+watched by the great red fires which flared along the path of their
+labours.  Trent and the boy took it by turns to watch, their
+revolvers loaded by their side, and their eyes ever turned towards
+that dark line of forest whence came nothing but the singing of
+night birds and the calling of wild animals.  Yet Trent would have
+no caution relaxed, the more they progressed.  the more vigilant
+the watch they kept.  At last came signs of the men of Bekwando.
+In the small hours of the morning a burning spear came hurtling
+through the darkness and fell with a hiss and a quiver in the ground,
+only a few feet from where Trent and the boy lay.  Trent stamped on
+it hastily and gave no alarm.  But the boy stole round with a
+whispered warning to those who could be trusted to fight.
+
+Yet no attack came on that night or the next; on the third Trent
+and the boy sat talking and the latter frankly owned that he was
+nervous.
+
+"It's not that I'm afraid," he said, smiling.  "You know it isn't
+that!  But all day long I've had the same feeling - we're being
+watched!  I'm perfectly certain that the beggars are skulking round
+the borders of the forest there.  Before morning we shall hear
+from them."
+
+"If they mean to fight," Trent said, "the sooner they come out the
+better.  I'd send a messenger to the King only I'm afraid they'd
+kill him.  Oom Sam won't come!  I've sent for him twice."
+
+The boy was looking backwards and forwards along the long line of
+disembowelled earth.
+
+"Trent," he said suddenly, "you're a wonderful man.  Honestly, this
+road is a marvellous feat for untrained labour and with such rotten
+odds and ends of machinery.  I don't know what experience you'd had
+of road-making."
+
+"None," Trent interjected.
+
+"Then it's wonderful!"
+
+Trent smiled upon the boy with such a smile as few people had ever
+seen upon his lips.
+
+"There's a bit of credit to you, Davenant," he said.  "I'd never
+have been able to figure out the levelling alone.  Whether I go
+down or not, this shall be a good step up on the ladder for you."
+
+The boy laughed.
+
+"I've enjoyed it more than anything else in my life," he said.
+"Fancy the difference between this and life in a London office.
+It's been magnificent!  I never dreamed what life was like before."
+
+Trent looked thoughtfully into the red embers.  "You had the mail
+to-day," the boy continued.  How were things in London?"
+
+"Not so bad," Trent answered.  "Cathcart has been doing all the
+harm he can, but it hasn't made a lot of difference.  My cables have
+been published and our letters will be in print by now, and the
+photographs you took of the work.  That was a splendid idea!"
+
+"And the shares?"
+
+"Down a bit - not much.  Da Souza seems to be selling out carefully
+a few at a time, and my brokers are buying most of them.  Pound
+shares are nineteen shillings to-day.  They'll be between three and
+four pounds, a week after I get back."
+
+"And when shall you go?" the boy asked.
+
+"Directly I get a man out here I can trust and things are fixed with
+his Majesty the King of Bekwando!  We'll both go then, and you shall
+spend a week or two with me in London."
+
+The boy laughed.
+
+"What a time we'll have!" he cried.  "Say, do you know your way
+round?"
+
+Trent shook his head.
+
+"I'm afraid not," he said.  "You'll have to be my guide."
+
+"Right you are," was the cheerful answer.  "I'll take you to Jimmy's,
+and the Empire, and down the river, and to a match at Lord's, and
+to Henley if we're in time, and I'll take you to see my aunt!
+You'll like her."
+
+Trent nodded.
+
+"I'll expect to," he said.  "Is she anything like you?"
+
+"Much cleverer," the boy said, "but we've been great chums all our
+life.  She's the cleverest woman ever knew, earns lots of money
+writing for newspapers.
+
+"Here, you've dropped your cigar, Trent."
+
+Trent groped for it on the ground with shaking fingers.
+
+"Writes for newspapers?" he repeated slowly. I wonder - her name
+isn't Davenant, is it?"
+
+The boy shook his head.
+
+"No, she's my mother's cousin really - only I call her Aunty, we
+always got on so.  She isn't really much older than me, her name is
+Wendermott - Ernestine Wendermott.  Ernestine's a pretty name, don't
+you think?"
+
+Trent rose to his feet, muttering something about a sound in the
+forest.  He stood with his back to the boy looking steadily at the
+dark line of outlying scrub, seeing in reality nothing, yet keenly
+anxious that the red light of the dancing flames should not fall
+upon his face.  The boy leaned on his elbow and looked in the same
+direction.  He was puzzled by a fugitive something which he had
+seen in Trent's face.
+
+Afterwards Trent liked sometimes to think that it was the sound of
+her name which had saved them all.  For, whereas his gaze had been
+idle at first, it became suddenly fixed and keen.  He stooped down
+and whispered something to the boy.  The word was passed along the
+line of sleeping men and one by one they dropped back into the
+deep-cut trench.  The red fire danced and crackled - only a few
+yards outside the flame-lit space came the dark forms of men
+creeping through the rough grass like snakes.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+The attack was a fiasco, the fighting was all over in ten minutes.
+A hundred years ago the men of Bekwando, who went naked and knew no
+drink more subtle than palm wine had one virtue - bravery.  But
+civilisation pressing upon their frontiers had brought Oom Sam
+greedy for ivory and gold, and Oom Sam had bought rum and strong
+waters.  The nerve of the savage had gone, and his muscle had become
+a flaccid thing.  When they had risen from the long grass with a
+horrid yell and had rushed in upon the hated intruders with couched
+spears only to be met by a blinding fire of Lee-Metford and revolver
+bullets their bravery vanished like breath from the face of a
+looking-glass.  They hesitated, and a rain of bullets wrought
+terrible havoc amongst their ranks.  On every side the fighting-men
+of Bekwando went down like ninepins - about half a dozen only sprang
+forward for a hand-to-hand fight, the remainder, with shrieks of
+despair, fled back to the shelter of the forest, and not one of
+them again ever showed a bold front to the white man.  Trent, for
+a moment or two, was busy, for a burly savage, who had marked him
+out by the light of the gleaming flames, had sprung upon him spear
+in hand, and behind him came others.  The first one dodged Trent's
+bullet and was upon him, when the boy shot him through the cheek
+and he went rolling over into the fire, with a death-cry which
+rang through the camp high above the din of fighting, another
+behind him Trent shot himself, but the third was upon him before
+he could draw his revolver and the two rolled over struggling
+fiercely, at too close quarters for weapons, yet with the thirst
+for blood fiercely kindled in both of them.  For a moment Trent
+had the worst of it - a blow fell upon his forehead (the scar of
+which he never lost) and the wooden club was brandished in the air
+for a second and more deadly stroke.  But at that moment Trent
+leaped up, dashed his unloaded revolver full in the man's face and,
+while he staggered with the shock, a soldier from behind shot him
+through the heart.  Trent saw him go staggering backwards and then
+himself sank down, giddy with the blow he had received.  Afterwards
+he knew that he must have fainted, for when he opened his eyes the
+sun was up and the men were strolling about looking at the dead
+savages who lay thick in the grass.  Trent sat up and called for
+water.
+
+"Any one hurt?" he asked the boy who brought him some.  The boy
+grinned, but shook his head.
+
+"Plenty savages killed," he said, "no white man or Kru boy."
+
+"Where's Mr. Davenant," Trent asked suddenly.
+
+The boy looked round and shook his head.
+
+"No seen Mr. Dav'nant," he said.  "Him fight well though!  Him not
+hurt!"
+
+Trent stood up with a sickening fear at his heart.  He knew very
+well that if the boy was about and unhurt he would have been at his
+side.  Up and down the camp he strode in vain.  At last one of the
+Kru boys thought he remembered seeing a great savage bounding away
+with some one on his back.  He had thought that it was one of their
+wounded - it might have been the boy.  Trent, with a sickening sense
+of horror, realised the truth.  The boy had been taken prisoner.
+
+Even then he preserved his self-control to a marvellous degree.
+First of all he gave directions for the day's work - then he called
+for volunteers to accompany him to the village.  There was no great
+enthusiasm.  To fight in trenches against a foe who had no cover nor
+any firearms was rather a different thing from bearding them in their
+own lair.  Nevertheless, about twenty men came forward, including a
+guide, and Trent was satisfied.
+
+They started directly after breakfast and for five hours fought
+their way through dense undergrowth and shrubs with never a sign of
+a path, though here and there were footsteps and broken boughs.  By
+noon some of the party were exhausted and lagged behind, an hour
+later a long line of exhausted stragglers were following Trent and
+the native guide.  Yet to all their petitions for a rest Trent was
+adamant.  Every minute's delay might lessen the chance of saving
+the boy, even now they might have begun their horrible tortures.
+The thought inspired him with fresh vigour.  He plunged on with
+long, reckless strides which soon placed a widening gap between him
+and the rest of the party.
+
+By degrees he began to recollect his whereabouts.  The way grew
+less difficult - occasionally there were signs of a path.  Every
+moment the soft, damp heat grew more intense and clammy.  Every
+time he touched his forehead he found it dripping.  But of these
+things he recked very little, for every step now brought him
+nearer to the end of his journey.  Faintly, through the midday
+silence he could hear the clanging of copper instruments and the
+weird mourning cry of the defeated natives.  A few more steps and
+he was almost within sight of them.  He slackened his pace and
+approached more stealthily until only a little screen of bushes
+separated him from the village and, peering through them, he saw
+a sight which made his blood run cold within him.
+
+They had the boy!  He was there, in that fantastic circle bound
+hand and foot, but so far as he could see, at present unhurt.  His
+face was turned to Trent, white and a little scared, but his lips
+were close-set and he uttered no sound.  By his side stood a man
+with a native knife dancing around and singing - all through the
+place were sounds of wailing and lamentation, and in front of his
+hut the King was lying, with an empty bottle by his side, drunk
+and motionless.  Trent's anger grew fiercer as he watched.  Was
+this a people to stand in his way, to claim the protection and
+sympathy of foreign governments against their own bond, that they
+might keep their land for misuse and their bodies for debauchery?
+He looked backwards and listened.  As yet there was no sign of any
+of his followers and there was no telling how long these antics
+were to continue.  Trent looked to his revolver and set his teeth.
+There must be no risk of evil happening to the boy.  He walked
+boldly out into the little space and called to them in a loud voice.
+
+There was a wild chorus of fear.  The women fled to the huts - the
+men ran like rats to shelter.  But the executioner of Bekwando, who
+was a fetish man and holy, stood his ground and pointed his knife
+at Trent.  Two others, seeing him firm, also remained.  The moment
+was critical.
+
+"Cut those bonds!" Trent ordered, pointing to the boy.
+
+The fetish man waved his hands and drew a step nearer to Trent, his
+knife outstretched.  The other two backed him up.  Already a spear
+was couched.
+
+Trent's revolver flashed out in the sunlight.
+
+"Cut that cord!" he ordered again.
+
+The fetish man poised his knife.  Trent hesitated no longer, but
+shot him deliberately through the heart.  He jumped into the air
+and fell forward upon his face with a death-cry which seemed to
+find an echo from every hut and from behind every tree of Bekwando.
+It was like the knell of their last hope, for had he not told them
+that he was fetish, that his body was proof against those wicked
+fires and that if the white men came, he himself would slay them!
+And now he was dead!  The last barrier of their superstitious hope
+was broken down.  Even the drunken King sat up and made strange
+noises.
+
+Trent stooped down and, picking up the knife, cut the bonds which
+had bound the boy.  He staggered up to his feet with a weak, little
+laugh.
+
+"I knew you'd find me," he said.  "Did I look awfully frightened?"
+
+Trent patted him on the shoulder.  "If I hadn't been in time," he
+said, "I'd have shot every man here and burned their huts over
+their heads.  Pick up the knife, old chap, quick.  I think those
+fellows mean mischief."
+
+The two warriors who had stood by the priest were approaching, but
+when they came within a few yards of Trent's revolver they dropped
+on their knees.  It was their token of submission.  Trent nodded,
+and a moment afterwards the reason for their non-resistance was
+made evident.  The remainder of the expedition came filing into the
+little enclosure.
+
+Trent lit a cigar and sat down on a block of wood to consider what
+further was best to be done.  In the meantime the natives were
+bringing yams to the white men with timid gestures.  After a brief
+rest Trent called them to follow him.  He walked across to the
+dwelling of the fetish man and tore down the curtain of dried grass
+which hung before the opening.  Even then it was so dark inside that
+they had to light a torch before they could see the walls, and the
+stench was horrible.
+
+A little chorus of murmurs escaped the lips of the Europeans as the
+interior became revealed to them.  Opposite the door was a life-size
+and hideous effigy of a grinning god, made of wood and painted in
+many colours.  By its side were other more horrible images and a row
+of human skulls hung from the roof.  The hand of a white man,
+blackened with age, was stuck to the wall by a spear-head, the stench
+and filth of the whole place were pestilential.  Yet outside a number
+of women and several of the men were on their knees hoping still
+against hope for aid from their ancient gods.  There was a cry of
+horror when Trent unceremoniously kicked over the nearest idol
+ - a yell of panic when the boy, with a gleam of mischief in his
+eyes, threw out amongst them a worm-eaten, hideous effigy and with
+a hearty kick stove in its hollow side.  It lay there bald and ugly
+in the streaming sunshine, a block of misshapen wood ill-painted in
+flaring daubs, the thing which they had worshipped in gloom and
+secret, they and a generation before them - all the mystery of its
+shrouded existence, the terrible fetish words of the dead priest,
+the reverence which an all-powerful and inherited superstition had
+kept alive within them, came into their minds as they stood there
+trembling, and then fled away to be out of the reach of the empty,
+staring eyes  -  out of reach of the vengeance which must surely
+fall from the skies upon these white savages.  So they watched, the
+women beating their bosoms and uttering strange cries, the men
+stolid but scared.  Trent and the boy came out coughing, and
+half-stupefied with the rank odour, and a little murmur went up
+from them.  It was a device of the gods - a sort of madness with
+which they were afflicted.  But soon their murmurs turned again
+into lamentation when they saw what was to come.  Men were running
+backwards and forwards, piling up dried wood and branches against
+the idol-house, a single spark and the thing was done.  A tongue of
+flame leaped up, a thick column of smoke stole straight up in the
+breathless air.  Amazed, the people stood and saw the home of
+dreadful mystery, whence came the sentence of life and death, the
+voice of the King-maker, the omens of war and fortune, enveloped in
+flames, already a ruined and shapeless mass.  Trent stood and
+watched it, smoking fiercely and felt himself a civiliser.  But the
+boy seemed to feel some of the pathos of the moment and he looked
+curiously at the little crowd of wailing natives.
+
+"And the people?" he asked.
+
+"They are going to help me make my road," Trent said firmly.  "I am
+going to teach them to work!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+MY DEAR AUNT ERNIE,  -  At last I have a chance of sending you a
+letter - and, this time at any rate, you won't have to complain
+about my sending you no news.  I'll promise you that, before I
+begin, and you needn't get scared either, because it's all good.
+I've been awfully lucky, and all because that fellow Cathcart
+turned out such a funk and a bounder.  It's the oddest thing in
+the world too, that old Cis should have written me to pick up all
+the news I could about Scarlett Trent and send it to you.  Why,
+he's within a few feet of me at this moment, and I've been seeing
+him continually ever since I came here.  But there, I'll try and
+begin at the beginning.
+
+"You know Cathcart got the post of Consulting Surveyor and Engineer
+to the Bekwando Syndicate, and he was head man at our London place.
+Well, they sent me from Capetown to be junior to him, and a jolly
+good move for me too.  I never did see anything in Cathcart!  He's
+a lazy sort of chap, hates work, and I guess he only got the job
+because his uncle had got a lot of shares in the business.  It seems
+he never wanted to come, hates any place except London, which
+accounts for a good deal.
+
+"All the time when we were waiting, he wasn't a bit keen and kept
+on rotting about the good times he might have been having in London,
+and what a fearful country we were stranded in, till he almost gave
+me the blues, and if there hadn't been some jolly good shooting and
+a few nice chaps up at the Fort, I should have been miserable.   As
+it was, I left him to himself a good deal, and he didn't like that
+either.  I think Attra was a jolly place, and the landing in surf
+boats was no end of fun.  Cathcart got beastly wet, and you should
+have seen what a stew he was in because he'd put on a beautiful
+white suit and it got spoilt.  Well, things weren't very lively at
+Attra at first, I'm bound to admit.  No one seemed to know much
+about the Bekwando Land Company, and the country that way was very
+rough.  However, we got sent out at last, and Cathcart, he simply
+scoffed at the whole thing from the first.  There was no proper
+labour, not half enough machinery, and none of the right sort - and
+the gradients and country between Bekwando and the sea were awful.
+Cathcart made a few reports and we did nothing but kick our heels
+about until HE came.  You'll see I've written that in big letters,
+and I tell you if ever a man deserved to have his name written
+in capitals Scarlett Trent does, and the oddest part of it is he
+knows you, and he was awfully decent to me all the time.
+
+"Well, out he went prospecting, before he'd been in the country
+twenty-four hours, and he came back quite cheerful.  Then he spoke
+to Cathcart about starting work, and Cathcart was a perfect beast.
+He as good as told him that he'd come out under false pretences,
+that the whole affair was a swindle and that the road could not be
+made.  Trent didn't hesitate, I can tell you.  There were no
+arguments or promises with him.  He chucked Cathcart on the spot,
+turned him out of the place, and swore he'd make the road himself.
+I asked if I might stop, and I think he was glad, anyhow we've been
+ever such pals ever since, and I never expect to have such a time
+again as long as I live!  But do you know, Auntie, we've about made
+that road.  When I see what we've done, sometimes I can't believe
+it.  I only wish some of the bigwigs who've never been out of an
+office could see it.  I know I'll hate to come away.
+
+"You'd never believe the time we had - leaving out the fighting,
+which I am coming to by and by.  We were beastly short of all sorts
+of machinery and our labour was awful.  We had scarcely any at
+first, but Trent found 'em somehow, Kru boys and native Zulus
+and broken-down Europeans - any one who could hold a pick.  More
+came every day, and we simply cut our way through the country.  I
+think I was pretty useful, for you see I was the only chap there
+who knew even a bit about engineering or practical surveying, and
+I'd sit up all night lots of times working the thing out.  We had
+a missionary came over the first Sunday, and wanted to preach, but
+Trent stopped him.  'We've got to work here,' he said, 'and Sunday
+or no Sunday I can't let my men stop to listen to you in the cool
+of the day.  If you want to preach, come and take a pick now, and
+preach when they're resting,' and he did and worked well too, and
+afterwards when we had to knock off, he preached, and Trent took
+the chair and made 'em all listen.  Well, when we got a bit inland
+we had the natives to deal with, and if you ask me I believe that's
+one reason Cathcart hated the whole thing so.  He's a beastly coward
+I think, and he told me once he'd never let off a revolver in his
+life.  Well, they tried to surprise us one night, but Trent was up
+himself watching, and I tell you we did give 'em beans.  Great,
+ugly-looking, black chaps they were.  Aunt Ernie, I shall never
+forget how I felt when I saw them come creeping through the long,
+rough grass with their beastly spears all poised ready to throw.
+And now for my own special adventure.  Won't you shiver when you
+read this!  I was taken prisoner by one of those chaps, carried off
+to their beastly village and very nearly murdered by a chap who
+seemed to be a cross between an executioner and a high-priest, and
+who kept dancing round me, singing a lot of rot and pointing a knife
+at me.  You see, I was right on the outside of the fighting and I
+got a knock on the head with the butt-end of a spear, and was a bit
+silly for a moment, and a great chap, who'd seen me near Trent and
+guessed I was somebody, picked me up as though I'd been a baby and
+carried me off.  Of course I kicked up no end of a row as soon as
+I came to, but what with the firing and the screeching no one heard
+me, and Trent said it was half an hour before he missed me and an
+hour before they started in pursuit.  Anyhow, there I was, about
+morning-time when you were thinking of having your cup of tea,
+trussed up like a fowl in the middle of the village, and all the
+natives, beastly creatures, promenading round me and making faces
+and bawling out things - oh, it was beastly I can tell you!  Then
+just as they seemed to have made up their mind to kill me, up
+strode Scarlett Trent alone, if you please, and he walked up to
+the whole lot of 'em as bold as brass.  He'd got a long way ahead
+of the rest and thought they meant mischief, so he wouldn't wait for
+the others but faced a hundred of them with a revolver in his hand,
+and I can tell you things were lively then.  I'd never be able to
+describe the next few minutes - one man Trent knocked down with his
+fist, and you could hear his skull crack, then he shot the chap who
+had been threatening me, and cut my bonds, and then they tried to
+resist us, and I thought it was all over.  They were horribly afraid
+of Trent though, and while they were closing round us the others
+came up and the natives chucked it at once.  They used to be a very
+brave race, but since they were able to get rum for their timber
+and ivory, they're a lazy and drunken lot.  Well, I must tell you
+what Trent did then.  He went to the priest's house where the gods
+were kept - such a beastly hole - and he burned the place before
+the eyes of all the natives.  I believe they thought every moment
+that we should be struck dead, and they stood round in a ring,
+making an awful row, but they never dared interfere.  He burnt the
+place to the ground, and then what do you think he did?  From the
+King downward he made every Jack one of them come and work on his
+road.  You'll never believe it, but it's perfectly true.  They
+looked upon him as their conqueror, and they came like lambs when
+he ordered it.  They think they're slaves you know, and don't
+understand their pay, but they get it every week and same as all
+the other labourers - and oh, Aunt Ernie, you should see the King
+work with a pickaxe!  He is fat and so clumsy and so furiously
+angry, but he's too scared of Trent to do anything but obey orders,
+and there he works hour after hour, groaning, and the perspiration
+rolls off him as though he were in a Turkish bath.  I could go on
+telling you odd things that happen here for hours, but I must finish
+soon as the chap is starting with the mail.  I am enjoying it.  It
+is something like life I can tell you, and aren't I lucky?  Trent
+made me take Cathcart's place.  I am getting 800 pounds a year, and
+only fancy it, he says he'll see that the directors make me a
+special grant.  Everything looks very different here now, and I do
+hope the Company will be a success.  There's whole heaps of mining
+machinery landed and waiting for the road to be finished to go up,
+and people seem to be streaming into the place.  I wonder what
+Cathcart will say when he knows that the road is as good as done,
+and that I've got his job!
+
+   "Chap called for mail.  Goodbye.
+                               "Ever your affectionate
+                                                   "FRED.
+"Trent is a brick."
+
+Ernestine read the letter slowly, line by line, word by word.  To
+tell the truth it was absorbingly interesting to her.  Already
+there had come rumours of the daring and blunt, resistless force
+with which this new-made millionaire had confronted a gigantic task.
+His terse communications had found their way into the Press, and in
+them and in the boy's letter she seemed to discover something
+Caesaric.  That night it was more than usually difficult for her to
+settle down to her own work.  She read her nephew's letter more than
+once and continually she found her thoughts slipping away - traveling
+across the ocean to a tropical strip of country, where a
+heterogeneous crowd of men were toiling and digging under a blazing
+sun.  And, continually too, she seemed to see a man's face looking
+steadily over the sea to her, as he stood upright for a moment and
+rested from his toil.  She was very fond of the boy - but the face
+was not his!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+A special train from Southampton had just steamed into Waterloo
+with the passengers from the Royal Mail steamer Ophir.  Little
+groups of sunburnt men were greeting old friends upon the platform,
+surrounded by piles of luggage, canvas trunks and steamer chairs.
+The demand for hansoms was brisk, cab after cab heavily loaded was
+rolling out of the yard.  There were grizzled men and men of fair
+complexion, men in white helmets and puggarees, and men in silk
+hats.  All sorts were represented there, from the successful diamond
+digger who was spasmodically embracing a lady in black jet of
+distinctly Jewish proclivities, to a sporting lord who had been
+killing lions.  For a few minutes the platforms were given over
+altogether to a sort of pleasurable confusion, a vivid scene, full
+of colour and human interest.  Then the people thinned away, and,
+very nearly last of all, a wizened-looking, grey-headed man,
+carrying a black bag and a parcel, left the platform with hesitating
+footsteps and turned towards the bridge.  He was followed almost
+immediately by Hiram Da Souza, who, curiously enough, seemed to have
+been on the platform when the train came in and to have been much
+interested in this shabby, lonely old man, who carried himself like
+a waif stranded in an unknown land.  Da Souza was gorgeous in frock
+coat and silk hat, a carnation in his buttonhole, a diamond in his
+black satin tie, yet he was not altogether happy.  This little man
+hobbling along in front represented fate to him.  On the platform at
+Waterloo he had heard him timidly ask a bystander the way to the
+offices of the Bekwando Land and Gold Exploration Company, Limited.
+If ever he got there, what would be the price of Bekwando shares on
+the morrow?
+
+On the bridge Da Souza saw him accost a policeman, and brushing
+close by, heard him ask the same question.  The man shook his head,
+but pointed eastwards.
+
+"I can't say exactly, sir, but somewhere in the City, for certain,"
+he answered.  "I should make for the Bank of England, a penny 'bus
+along that way will take you - and ask again there."
+
+The old man nodded his thanks and stepped along Da Souza felt that
+his time had come.  He accosted him with an urbane smile.
+
+"Excuse me," he said, "but I think I heard you ask for the offices
+of the Bekwando Land Company."
+
+The old man looked up eagerly.  "If you can direct me there, sir,"
+he said, "I shall be greatly obliged."
+
+"I can do so," Da Souza said, falling into step, "and will with
+pleasure.  I am going that way myself.  I hope," he continued in a
+tone of kindly concern, "that you are not a shareholder in the
+Company."
+
+The old man dropped his bag with a clatter upon the pavement, and
+his lips moved for a moment without any speech coming from them.
+Da Souza picked up the bag and devoutly hoped that none of his City
+friends were in the way.
+
+"I don't exactly know about being a shareholder," the old man said
+nervously, "but I've certainly something to do with it.  I am, or
+should have been, joint vendor.  The Company is wealthy, is it not?"
+
+Da Souza changed the bag into his other hand and thrust his arm
+through his companion's.
+
+" You haven't seen the papers lately, have you?"
+
+"No!  I've just landed - to-day - from Africa!"
+
+"Then I'm sorry to say there's some bad news for you," Da Souza
+said.  "The Bekwando Land and Gold Company has gone into liquidation
+ - smashed up altogether.  They say that all the directors and the
+vendor will be arrested.  It seems to have been a gigantic swindle."
+
+Monty had become a dead weight upon his arm.  They were in the
+Strand now, and he pushed open the swing-door of a public-house,
+and made his way into the private bar.  When Monty opened his eyes
+he was on a cushioned seat, and before him was a tumbler of brandy
+half empty.  He stared round him wildly.  His lips were moist and
+the old craving was hot upon him.  What did it mean?  After all he
+had broken his vow, then!  Had he not sworn to touch nothing until
+he had found his little girl and his fortune?  yet the fire of
+spirits was in his veins and the craving was tearing him to pieces.
+Then he remembered!  There was no fortune, no little girl!  His
+dreams were all shattered, the last effort of his life had been in
+vain.  He caught hold of the tumbler with fingers that shook as
+though an ague were upon him, lifted it to his lips and drank.
+Then there came the old blankness, and he saw nothing but what
+seemed to him the face of a satyr - dark and evil - mocking him
+through the shadows which had surely fallen now for ever.  Da Souza
+lifted him up and conveyed him carefully to a four-wheel cab.
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+An hour afterwards Da Souza, with a grin of content upon his
+unshapely mouth, exchanged his frock coat for a gaudy smoking-jacket,
+and, with a freshly-lit cigar in his mouth, took up the letters
+which had arrived by the evening post.  Seeing amongst them one with
+an African stamp he tore it open hastily, and read: -
+
+"MY DEAR HIRAM, - You was in luck now or never, if you really want
+to stop that half -witted creature from doing mischief in London.
+I sometimes think, my brother, that you would do better to give me
+even more of your confidence.  You are a very clever man, but you
+do keep yourself so secret.  If I too were not clever, how would I
+know to send you this news, how would I know that it will make you
+glad?  But there, you will go your way.  I know it!
+
+"Now for the news!  Monty, as I cabled (I send the bill) has gone
+secretly to London.  Since Scarlett Trent found our Hausa friend
+and the rum flask, there have been no means of getting liquor to
+him, so I suppose he has very near regained his senses, anyhow he
+shipped off very cunning, not even Missionary Walsh knowing, but
+he made a very big mistake, the news of which I send to you knowing
+it will be good.  Hiram, he stole the money to pay for his passage
+from the missionary's cash-box!  All one day he stood under a tree
+looking out to sea, and a steamer from Capetown called, and when he
+heard the whistle and saw the surf boats he seemed to wake up.  He
+walked up and down restlessly for a long time, muttering to himself.
+Mrs. Walsh came out to him and he was still staring at the steamer.
+She told him to come in out of the sun, which was very hot, but he
+shook his head.  'She's calling me,' he kept on saying, 'calling
+me!'  She heard him in the room where the money was and then saw no
+more of him.  But others saw him running to the shore, and he paid
+to be taken out to the steamer.  They wouldn't take him on at first,
+because he hadn't secured a passage, but he laid down and wouldn't
+move.  So, as he had the money, they took him, and when I heard I
+cabled to you.  But what harm can he do, for you are his master?
+He is a thief and you know it.  Surely you can do with him what you
+will.
+
+"Trent was here yesterday and heard for the first time of his flight.
+How he took it I cannot tell you, for I was not the one to tell him,
+but this I know for a fact.  He cabled to Capetown offering 100 pounds
+if the Star Line steamer leaving to-morrow would call for him here.
+Hiram, he is a great man, this Trent.  I hate him, for he has spoilt
+much trade for me, and he treats me as though I were the dirt under
+his feet, but never a man before who has set foot upon the Coast
+could have done what he has done.  Without soldiers he has beaten
+the Bekwando natives, and made them even work for him.  He has
+stirred the whole place here into a state of fever!  A thousand men
+are working upon his road and sinking shafts upon the Bekwando hills.
+Gold is already coming down, nuggets of it, and he is opening a
+depot to buy all the mahogany and ivory in the country.  He spends
+money like water, he never rests, what he says must be done is done!
+The authorities are afraid of him, but day by day they become more
+civil!  The Agent here called him once an adventurer, and threatened
+him with arrest for his fighting with the Bekwandos.  Now they go
+to him cap in hand, for they know that he will be a great power in
+this country.  And Hiram, my brother, you have not given me your
+trust though I speak to you so openly, but here is the advice of a
+brother, for blood is blood, and I would have you make monies.
+Don't you put yourself against Trent.  Be on his side, for his is
+the winning side.  I don't know what you got in your head about that
+poor scarecrow Monty, but I tell you, Hiram, Trent is the man to
+back right through.  He has the knack of success, and he is a genius.
+My! he's a great man, and he's a king out here.  You be on his side,
+Hiram, and you're all right.
+
+"Now goodbye, but send me the money for the cable when you write,
+and remember - Monty is a thief and Trent is the man to back, which
+reminds me that Trent repaid to Missionary Walsh all the money which
+Monty took, which it seems was left with Walsh by him for Monty's
+keep.  But Monty does not know that, so you have the string to make
+him dance.
+                        "Which comes from your brother
+                                                   "SAMUEL.
+
+"P.S. - Do not forget the small account for disbursements."
+
+Da Souza folded up the letter, and a look of peace shone in his face.
+Presently he climbed the stairs to a little back-room and noiselessly
+unlocked the door.  Monty, with pale face and bloodshot eyes, was
+walking up and down, mumbling to himself.  He addressed Da Souza
+eagerly.
+
+"I think I will go away now," he said.  "I am very much obliged to
+you for looking after me."
+
+Da Souza gazed at him with well-affected gravity.  "One moment
+first," he said, "didn't I understand you that you had just come
+from Africa?"
+
+Monty nodded.
+
+"The Gold Coast?"
+
+Monty nodded again, but with less confidence.
+
+"By any chance - were you called Monty there?"
+
+Monty turned ghastly pale.  Surely his last sin had not found him
+out.  He was silent, but there was no need for speech.  Da Souza
+motioned him to sit down.
+
+"I am very sorry," he said, "of course it's true. The police have
+been here."
+
+"The police!" Monty moaned.
+
+Da Souza nodded.  Benevolence was so rare a part for him to play,
+that he rather enjoyed it.
+
+"Don't be scared," he said.  "Yes, your description is out, and you
+are wanted for stealing a few pounds from a man named Walsh.  Never
+mind.  I won't give you up.  You shall lie snug here for a few days!"
+
+Monty fell on his knees.  "You won't let any one know that I am
+here!" he pleaded.
+
+"Not I," Da Souza answered fervently.
+
+Monty rose to his feet, his face full of dumb misery.
+
+"Now," he muttered, "I shall never see her - never  - never - never!"
+
+There was a bottle half full of spirits upon the table and a tumbler
+as yet unused.  A gleam flashed in his eyes.  He filled the tumbler
+and raised it to his lips.  Da Souza watched him curiously with the
+benevolent smile still upon his face.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+"You are very smart, Ernestine," he said, looking her admiringly.
+
+"One must be smart at Ascot," she answered, "or stay away."
+
+"I've just heard some news," he continued.
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"Who do you think is here?"
+
+She glanced at him sideways under her lace parasol.  "Every one I
+should think."
+
+"Including," he said, "Mr. Scarlett Trent!"  She grew a shade paler,
+and leaned for a moment against the rail of the paddock in which
+they were lounging.
+
+"I thought," she said, "that the Mazetta Castle was not due till
+to-day."
+
+"She touched at Plymouth in the night, and he had a special train
+up.  He has some horses running, you know."
+
+"I suppose," she remarked, "that he is more of a celebrity than
+ever now!"
+
+"Much more," he answered.  "If he chooses he will be the lion of
+the season!  By the by, you had nothing of interest from Fred?"
+
+She shook her head impatiently.
+
+"Nothing but praises!  According to Fred, he's a hero!"
+
+"I hate him," Davenant said sulkily.
+
+"And so," she answered softly, "do I!  Do you see him coming, Cecil?"
+
+"In good company too," the young man laughed bitterly.
+
+A little group of men, before whom every one fell back respectfully,
+were strolling through the paddock towards the horses.  Amongst
+them was Royalty, and amongst them also was Scarlett Trent.  But
+when he saw the girl in the white foulard smile at him from the
+paling he forgot etiquette and everything else.  He walked straight
+across to her with that keen, bright light in his eyes which Fred
+had described so well in his letter.
+
+"I am very fortunate," he said, taking the delicately gloved hand
+into his fingers, "to find you so soon.  I have only been in England
+a few hours."
+
+She answered him slowly, subjecting him the while to a somewhat
+close examination.  His face was more sunburnt than ever she had
+seen a man's, but there was a wonderful force and strength in his
+features, which seemed to have become refined instead of coarsened
+by the privations through which he had passed.  His hand, as she
+had felt, was as hard as iron, and it was not without reluctance
+that she felt compelled to take note of his correct attire and easy
+bearing.  After all he must be possessed of a wonderful measure of
+adaptability.
+
+"You have become famous," she said.  "Do you know that you are
+going to be made a lion?"
+
+"I suppose the papers have been talking a lot of rot," he answered
+bluntly.  "I've had a fairly rough time, and I'm glad to tell you
+this, Miss Wendermott - I don't believe I'd ever have succeeded but
+for your nephew Fred.  He's the pluckiest boy I ever knew."
+
+"I am very pleased to hear it," she answered.  "He's a dear boy!"
+
+"He's a brick," Trent answered.  "We've been in some queer scrapes
+together - I've lots of messages for you!  By the by, are you alone?"
+
+"For the moment," she answered; "Mr. Davenant left me as you came
+up.  I'm with my cousin, Lady Tresham.  She's on the lawn somewhere."
+
+He looked down the paddock and back to her.
+
+"Walk with me a little way," he said, "and I will show you Iris
+before she starts."
+
+"You!" she exclaimed.
+
+He pointed to the card.  It was surely an accident that she had not
+noticed it before.  Mr. Trent's Iris was amongst the entries for the
+Gold Cup.
+
+"Why, Iris is the favourite!"
+
+He nodded.
+
+"So they tell me!  I've been rather lucky haven't I, for a beginner?
+I found a good trainer, and I had second call on Cannon, who's
+riding him.  If you care to back him for a trifle, I think you'll be
+all right, although the odds are nothing to speak of."
+
+She was walking by his side now towards the quieter end of the
+paddock.
+
+"I hear you have been to Torquay," he said, looking at her
+critically, "it seems to have agreed with you.  You are looking
+well!"
+
+She returned his glance with slightly uplifted eyebrows, intending
+to convey by that and her silence a rebuke to his boldness.  He was
+blandly unconscious, however, of her intent, being occupied just
+then in returning the greetings of passers-by.  She bit her lip
+and looked straight ahead.
+
+"After all," he said, "unless you are very keen on seeing Iris, I
+think we'd better give it up.  There are too many people around her
+already."
+
+"Just as you like," she answered, "only it seems a shame that you
+shouldn't look over your own horse before the race if you want to.
+Would you like to try alone?"
+
+"Certainly not," he answered.  "I shall see plenty of her later.
+Are you fond of horses?"
+
+"Very."
+
+"Go to many race-meetings?"
+
+"Whenever I get the chance! - I always come here."
+
+"It is a great sight," he said thoughtfully, looking around him.
+"Are you here just for the pleasure of it, or are you going to write
+about it?"
+
+She laughed.
+
+"I'm going to write about some of the dresses," she said.  "I'm
+afraid no one would read my racing notes."
+
+"I hope you'll mention your own," he said coolly.  "It's' quite the
+prettiest here."
+
+She scarcely knew whether to be amused or offended.
+
+"You are a very downright person, Mr. Trent," she said.
+
+"You don't expect me to have acquired manners yet, do you?" he
+answered drily.
+
+"You have acquired a great many things," she said, "with surprising
+facility.  Why not manners?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"No doubt they will come, but I shall want a lot of polishing.  I
+wonder - "
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Whether any one will ever think it worth while to undertake the
+task."
+
+She raised her eyes and looked him full in the face.  She had made
+up her mind exactly what to express - and she failed altogether to
+do it.  There was a fire and a strength in the clear, grey eyes
+fixed so earnestly upon hers which disconcerted her altogether.
+She was desperately angry with herself and desperately uneasy.
+
+"You have the power," she said with slight coldness, "to buy most
+things.  By the by, I was thinking only just now, how sad it was
+that your partner did not live.  He shared the work with you, didn't
+he?  It seems such hard lines that he could not have shared the
+reward!"
+
+He showed no sign of emotion such as she had expected, and for which
+she had been narrowly watching him.  Only he grew at once more
+serious, and he led her a little further still from the crush of
+people.  It was the luncheon interval, and though the next race
+was the most important of the day, the stream of promenaders had
+thinned off a little.
+
+"It is strange," he said, "that you should have spoken to me of my
+partner.  I have been thinking about him a good deal lately."
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"Well, first of all, I am not sure that our agreement was altogether
+a fair one," he said.  "He had a daughter and I am very anxious to
+find her!  I feel that she is entitled to a certain number of shares
+in the Company, and I want her to accept them."
+
+"Have you tried to find her?" she asked.
+
+He looked steadily at her for a moment, but her parasol had dropped
+a little upon his side and he could not see her face.
+
+"Yes, I have tried," he said slowly, "and I have suffered a great
+disappointment.  She knows quite well that I am searching for her,
+and she prefers to remain undiscovered."
+
+"That sounds strange," she remarked, with her eyes  fixed upon the
+distant Surrey hills.  "Do you know her reason?"
+
+"I am afraid," he said deliberately, "that there can be only one.
+It's a miserable thing to believe of any woman, and I'd be glad - "
+
+He hesitated.  She kept her eyes turned away from him, but her
+manner denoted impatience.
+
+"Over on this side," he continued, "it seems that Monty was a
+gentleman in his day, and his people were - well, of your order!
+There was an Earl I believe in the family, and no doubt they are
+highly respectable.  He went wrong once, and of course they never
+gave him another chance.  It isn't their way - that sort of people!
+I'll admit he was pretty low down when I came across him, but I
+reckon that was the fault of those who sent him adrift - and after
+all there was good in him even then.  I am going to tell you
+something now, Miss Wendermott, which I've often wanted to - that
+is, if you're interested enough to care to hear it!"
+
+All the time she was asking herself how much he knew.  She motioned
+him to proceed.
+
+"Monty had few things left in the world worth possessing, but there
+was one which he had never parted with, which he carried with him
+always.  It was the picture of his little girl, as she had been when
+his trouble happened."
+
+He stooped a little as though to see over the white rails, but she
+was too adroit.  Her face remained hidden from him by that little
+cloud of white lace.
+
+"It is an odd thing about that picture," he went on slowly, "but he
+showed it to me once or twice, and I too got very fond of it!  It
+was just a little girl's face, very bright and very winsome, and
+over there we were lonely, and it got to mean a good deal to both
+of us.  And one night Monty would gamble - it was one of his faults,
+poor chap - and he had nothing left but his picture, and I played
+him for it - and won!"
+
+"Brute!" she murmured in an odd, choked tone.
+
+"Sounds so, doesn't it?  But I wanted that picture.  Afterwards
+came our terrible journey back to the Coast, when I carried the poor
+old chap on my back day by day, and stood over him at night potting
+those black beasts when they crept up too close - for they were on
+our track all the time.  I wouldn't tell you the whole story of
+those days, Miss Wendermott for it would keep you awake at night;
+but I've a fancy for telling you this.  I'd like you to believe it,
+for it's gospel truth.  I didn't leave him until I felt absolutely
+and actually certain that he couldn't live an hour.  He was passing
+into unconsciousness, and a crowd of those natives were close upon
+our heels.  So I left him and took the picture with me - and I
+think since then that it has meant almost as much to me as ever it
+had been to him."
+
+"That," she remarked, "sounds a little far-fetched - not to say
+impossible."
+
+"Some day," he answered boldly, "I shall speak to you of this again,
+and I shall try to convince you that it is truth!"
+
+He could not see her face, but he knew very well in some occult
+manner that she had parted with some at least of her usual composure.
+As a matter of fact she was nervous and ill-at-ease.
+
+"You have not yet told me," she said abruptly, "what you imagine
+can be this girl's reasons for remaining unknown."
+
+"I can only guess them," he said gravely; "I can only suppose that
+she is ashamed of her father and declines to meet any one connected
+with him.  It is very wrong and very narrow of her.  If I could talk
+to her for ten minutes and tell her how the poor old chap used to
+dream about her and kiss her picture, I can't think but she'd be
+sorry."
+
+"Try and think," she said, looking still away from him, "that she
+must have another reason.  You say that you liked her picture!  Try
+and be generous in your thoughts of her for its sake."
+
+"I will try," he answered, "especially - "
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"Especially - because the picture makes me think  - sometimes - of
+you!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+Trent had done many brave things in his life, but he had never been
+conscious of such a distinct thrill of nervousness as he experienced
+during those few minutes' silence.  Ernestine, for her part, was
+curiously exercised in her mind.  He had shaken her faith in his
+guilt - he had admitted her to his point of view.  She judged
+herself from his standpoint, and the result was unpleasant.  She
+had a sudden impulse to tell him the truth, to reveal her identity,
+tell him her reasons for concealment.  Perhaps her suspicions had
+been hasty.  Then the personal note in his last speech had produced
+a serious effect on her, and all the time she felt that her silence
+was emboldening him, as indeed it was.
+
+"The first time I saw you," he went on, "the likeness struck me.
+I felt as though I were meeting some one whom I had known all my
+life."
+
+She laughed a little uneasily.  "And you found yourself instead the
+victim of an interviewer!  What a drop from the romantic to the
+prosaic!"
+
+"There has never been any drop at all," he answered firmly, "and
+you have always seemed to me the same as that picture - something
+quite precious and apart from my life.  It's been a poor sort of
+thing perhaps.  I came from the people, I never had any education,
+I was as rough as most men of my sort, and I have done many things
+which I would sooner cut off my right hand than do again.  But that
+was when I lived in the darkness.  It was before you came."
+
+"Mr. Trent, will you take me back to Lady Tresham, please?"
+
+"In a moment," he answered gravely.  "Don't think that I am going
+to be too rash.  I know the time hasn't come yet.  I am not going
+to say any more.  Only I want you to know this.  The whole success
+of my life is as nothing compared with the hope of one day - "
+
+"I will not hear another word," she interrupted hastily, and
+underneath her white veil he could see a scarlet spot of colour in
+her cheeks; in her speech, too, there was a certain tremulousness.
+"If you will not come with me I must find Lady Tresham alone."
+
+They turned round, but as they neared the middle of the paddock
+progress became almost impossible.  The bell had rung for the
+principal race of the day and the numbers were going up.  The
+paddock was crowded with others beside loiterers, looking the
+horses over and stolidly pushing their way through the little groups
+to the front rank.  From Tattersall's came the roar of clamorous
+voices.  All around were evidences of that excitement which always
+precedes a great race.
+
+"I think," he said, "that we had better watch the race from these
+railings.  Your gown will be spoilt in the crowd if we try to get
+out of the paddock, and you probably wouldn't get anywhere in time
+to see it."
+
+She acquiesced silently, recognising that, although he had not
+alluded to it in words, he had no intention of saying anything
+further at present.  Trent, who had been looking forward to the next
+few minutes with all the eagerness of a man who, for the first time
+in his life, runs the favourite in a great race, smiled as he
+realised how very content he was to stay where nothing could be seen
+until the final struggle was over.  They took up their places side
+by side and leaned over the railing.
+
+"Have you much money on Iris?" she asked.
+
+"A thousand both ways," he answered.  "I don't plunge, but as I
+backed her very early I got 10 to 1 and 7 to 2.  Listen!  They're
+off!"
+
+There was a roar from across the course, followed by a moment's
+breathless silence.  The clamour of voices from Tattersall's subsided,
+and in its place rose the buzz of excitement from the stands, the
+murmur of many voices gradually growing in volume.  Far away down
+the straight Ernestine and Trent, leaning over the rail, could see
+the little coloured specks come dancing into sight.  The roar of
+voices once more beat upon the air.
+
+"Nero the Second wins!"
+
+"The favourite's done!"
+
+"Nero the Second for a monkey!"
+
+"Nero the Second romps in!"
+
+
+"Iris!  Iris!  Iris wins!"
+
+It was evident from the last shout and the gathering storm of
+excitement that, after all, it was to be a race They were well in
+sight now; Nero the Second and Iris, racing neck-and-neck, drawing 
+rapidly away from the others.  The air shook with the sound of hoarse
+and fiercely excited voices.
+
+"Nero the Second wins!"
+
+"Iris wins!
+
+Neck-and-neck they passed the post.  So it seemed at least to
+Ernestine and many others, but Trent shook his head and looked at
+her with a smile.
+
+"Iris was beaten by a short neck," he said.  "Good thing you didn't
+back her.  That's a fine horse of the Prince's, though!"
+
+"I'm so sorry," she cried.  "Are you sure?"
+
+He nodded and pointed to the numbers which were going up.  She
+flashed a sudden look upon him which more than compensated him for
+his defeat.  At least he had earned her respect that day, as a man
+who knew how to accept defeat gracefully.  They walked slowly up
+the paddock and stood on the edge of the crowd, whilst a great
+person went out to meet his horse amidst a storm of cheering.  It
+chanced that he caught sight of Trent on the way, and, pausing for
+a moment, he held out his hand.
+
+"Your horse made a magnificent fight for it, Mr. Trent," he said.
+"I'm afraid I only got the verdict by a fluke.  Another time may
+you be the fortunate one!"
+
+Trent answered him simply, but without awkwardness.  Then his horse
+came in and he held out his hand to the crestfallen jockey, whilst
+with his left he patted Iris's head.
+
+"Never mind, Dick," he said cheerfully, "you rode a fine race and
+the best horse won.  Better luck next time."
+
+Several people approached Trent, but he turned away at once to
+Ernestine.
+
+"You will let me take you to Lady Tresham now," he said.
+
+"If you please," she answered quietly.
+
+They left the paddock by the underground way.  When they emerged
+upon the lawn the band was playing and crowds of people were
+strolling about under the trees.
+
+"The boxes," Trent suggested, "must be very hot now!"
+
+He turned down a side-walk away from the stand towards an empty seat
+under an elm-tree, and, after a moment's scarcely perceptible
+hesitation, she followed his lead.  He laughed softly to himself.
+If this was defeat, what in the world was better?
+
+"This is your first Ascot, is it not?" she asked.
+
+"My first!"
+
+"And your first defeat?"
+
+"I suppose it is," he admitted cheerfully.  "I rather expected to
+win, too."
+
+"You must be very disappointed, I am afraid."
+
+"I have lost," he said thoughtfully, "a gold cup.  I have
+ gained - "
+
+She half rose and shook out her skirts as though about to leave him.
+He stopped short and found another conclusion to his sentence.
+
+"Experience!"
+
+A faint smile parted her lips.  She resumed her seat.
+
+"I am glad to find you," she said, "so much of a philosopher.  Now 
+talk to me for a few minutes about what you have been doing in Africa."
+
+He obeyed her, and very soon she forgot the well dressed crowd of
+men and women by whom they were surrounded, the light hum of gay
+conversation, the band which was playing the fashionable air of
+the moment.  She saw instead the long line of men of many races,
+stripped to the waist and toiling as though for their lives under
+a tropical sun, she saw the great brown water-jars passed down the
+line, men fainting beneath the burning sun and their places taken
+by others.  She heard the shrill whistle of alarm, the beaten drum;
+she saw the spade exchanged for the rifle, and the long line of
+toilers disappear behind the natural earthwork which their labours
+had created.  She saw black forms rise stealthily from the long,
+rank grass, a flight of quivering spears, the horrid battle-cry of
+the natives rang in her ears.  The whole drama of the man's great
+past rose up before her eyes, made a living and real thing by his
+simple but vigorous language.  That he effaced himself from it went
+for nothing; she saw him there perhaps more clearly than anything
+else, the central and domineering figure, a man of brains and nerve
+who, with his life in his hands, faced with equal immovability a
+herculean task and the chances of death.  Certain phrases in Fred's
+letter had sunk deep into her mind, they were recalled very vividly
+by the presence of the man himself, telling his own story.  She sat
+in the sunlight with the music in her ears, listening to his abrupt,
+vivid speech, and a fear came to her which blanched her cheeks and
+caught at her throat.  The hand which held her dainty parasol of
+lace shook, and an indescribable thrill ran through her veins.  She
+could no more think of this man as a clodhopper, a coarse upstart
+without manners or imagination.  In many ways he fell short of all
+the usual standards by which the men of her class were judged, yet
+she suddenly realised that he possessed a touch of that quality
+which lifted him at once far over their heads, The man had genius.
+Without education or culture he had yet achieved greatness.  By his
+side the men who were passing about on the lawn became suddenly
+puppets.  Form and style, manners and easy speech became suddenly
+stripped of their significance to her.  The man at her side had none
+of these things, yet he was of a greater world.  She felt her enmity
+towards him suddenly weakened.  Only her pride now could help her.
+She called upon it fiercely.  He was the man whom she had
+deliberately believed to be guilty of her father's death, the man
+whom she had set herself to entrap.  She brushed all those other
+thoughts away and banished firmly that dangerous kindness of manner
+into which she had been drifting.
+
+And he, on his part, felt a glow of keen pleasure When he realised
+how the events of the day had gone in his favour.  If not yet of
+her world, he knew now that his becoming so would be hereafter
+purely a matter of time.  He looked up through the green leaves at
+the blue sky, bedappled with white, fleecy clouds, and wondered
+whether she guessed that his appearance here, his ownership of Iris,
+the studious care with which he had placed himself in the hands of
+a Seville Row tailor were all for her sake.  It was true that she
+had condescended to Bohemianism, that be had first met her as a
+journalist, working for her living in a plain serge suit and a straw
+hat.  But he felt sure that this had been to a certain extent a whim
+with her.  He stole a sidelong glance at her - she was the
+personification of daintiness from the black patent shoes showing
+beneath the flouncing of her skirt, to the white hat with its
+clusters of roses.  Her foulard gown was as simple as genius could
+make it, and she wore no ornaments, save a fine clasp to her
+waistband of dull gold, quaintly fashioned, and the fine gold chain
+around her neck, from which hung her racing-glasses.  She was to him
+the very type of everything aristocratic.  It might be, as she had
+told him, that she chose to work for her living, but he knew as
+though by inspiration that her people and connections were of that
+world to which he could never belong, save on sufferance.  He meant
+to belong to it, for her sake - to win her!  He admitted the
+presumption, but then it would be presumption of any man to lift
+his eyes to her.  He estimated his chances with common sense; he was
+not a man disposed to undervalue himself.  He knew the power of his
+wealth and his advantage over the crowd of young men who were her
+equals by birth.  For he had met some of them, had inquired into
+their lives, listened to their jargon, and had come in a faint sort
+of way to understand them.  It had been an encouragement to him.
+After all it was only serious work, life lived out face to face with
+the great realities of existence which could make a man.  In a dim
+way he realised that there were few in her own class likely to
+satisfy Ernestine.  He even dared to tell himself that those things
+which rendered him chiefly unfit for her, the acquired vulgarities
+of his rougher life, were things which he could put away; that a
+time would come when he would take his place confidently in her
+world, and that the end would be success.  And all the while from
+out of the blue sky Fate was forging a thunderbolt to launch against
+him!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+
+"And now," she said, rising, "you really must take me to Lady
+Tresham!  They will think that I am lost."
+
+"Are you still at your rooms?" he asked.
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Yes, only I'm having them spring-cleaned for a few days.  I am
+staying at Tresham House."
+
+"May I come and see you there?"
+
+The man's quiet pertinacity kindled a sort of indignation in her.
+The sudden weakness in her defences was unbearable.
+
+"I think not," she answered shortly.  "You don't know Lady Tresham,
+and they might not approve.  Lady Tresham is rather old-fashioned."
+
+"Oh, Lady Tresham is all right," he answered.  "I suppose I shall
+see you to-night if you are staying there.  They have asked me to
+dinner!"
+
+She was taken aback and showed it.  Again he had the advantage.  He
+did not tell her that on his return he had found scores of
+invitations from people he had never heard of before.
+
+"You are by way of going into society, then," she answered insolently.
+
+"I don't think I've made any particular efforts," he answered.
+
+"Money," she murmured, "is an everlasting force!"
+
+"The people of your world," be answered, with a flash of contempt,
+"are the people who find it so."
+
+She was silent then, and Trent was far from being discouraged by
+her momentary irritability.  He was crossing the lawn now by her
+side, carrying himself well, with a new confidence in his air and
+bearing which she did not fail to take note of.  The sunlight, the
+music, and the pleasant air of excitement were all in his veins.
+He was full of the strong joy of living.  And then, in the midst of
+it all, came a dull, crashing blow.  It was as though all his
+castles in the air had come toppling about his ears, the blue sky
+had turned to stony grey and the sweet waltz music had become a
+dirge.  Always a keen watcher of men's faces, he had glanced for a
+second time at a gaunt, sallow man who wore a loose check suit and
+a grey Homburg hat.  The eyes of the two men met.  Then the blood
+had turned to ice in Trent's veins and the ground had heaved beneath
+his feet.  It was the one terrible chance which Fate had held
+against him, and she had played the card.
+
+Considering the nature and suddenness of the blow which had fallen
+upon him, Trent's recovery was marvellous.  The two men had come
+face to face upon the short turf, involuntarily each had come to a
+standstill.  Ernestine looked from one to the other a little
+bewildered.
+
+"I should like a word with you, Trent," Captain Francis said quietly.
+
+Trent nodded.
+
+"In five minutes," he said, "I will return here - on the other side
+of the band-stand, say."
+
+Francis nodded and stood aside.  Trent and Ernestine continued their
+progress towards the stand.
+
+"Your friend," Ernestine remarked, " seemed to come upon you like
+a modern Banquo!"
+
+Trent, who did not understand the allusion, was for once discreet.
+
+"He is a man with whom I had dealings abroad," he said, "I did not
+expect him to turn up here."
+
+"In West Africa?" she asked quickly.
+
+Trent smiled enigmatically.
+
+"There are many foreign countries besides Africa," he said, "and
+I've been in most of them.  This is box No.  13, then.  I shall see
+you this evening."
+
+She nodded, and Trent was free again.  He did not make his way at
+once to the band-stand.  Instead he entered the small
+refreshment-room at the base of the building and called for a glass
+of brandy.  He drank it slowly, his eyes fixed upon the long row of
+bottles ranged upon the shelf opposite to him, he himself carried
+back upon a long wave of thoughts to a little West African station
+where the moist heat rose in fever mists and where an endless stream
+of men passed backward and forward to their tasks with wan, weary
+faces and slowly dragging limbs.  What a cursed chance which had
+brought him once more face to face with the one weak spot in his life,
+the one chapter which, had he the power, he would most willingly seal
+for ever!  From outside came the ringing of a bell, the hoarse
+shouting of many voices in the ring, through the open door a vision
+of fluttering waves of colour, lace parasols and picture hats, little
+trills of feminine laughter, the soft rustling of muslins and silks.
+A few moments ago it had all seemed so delightful to him - and now
+there lay a hideous blot upon the day.
+
+It seemed to him when he left the little bar that he had been there
+for hours, as a matter of fact barely five minutes had passed since
+he had left Ernestine.  He stood for a moment on the edge of the walk,
+dazzled by the sunlight, then he stepped on to the grass and made
+his way through the throng.  The air was full of soft, gay music,
+and the skirts and flounces of the women brushed against him at every
+step.  Laughter and excitement were the order of the day.  Trent,
+with his suddenly pallid face and unseeing eyes, seemed a little out
+of place in such a scene of pleasure.  Francis, who was smoking a
+cigar, looked up as he approached and made room for him upon the seat.
+
+"I did not expect to see you in England quite so soon, Captain
+Francis," Trent said.
+
+"I did not expect," Francis answered, "ever to be in England again.
+I am told that my recovery was a miracle.  I am also told that I owe
+my Life to you!"
+
+Trent shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I would have done as much for any of my people," he said, "and you
+don't owe me any thanks.  To be frank with you, I hoped you'd die."
+
+"You could easily have made sure of it," Francis answered.
+
+"It wasn't my way," Trent answered shortly.  "Now what do you want
+with me?"
+
+Francis turned towards him with a curious mixture of expressions
+in his face.
+
+"Look here," he said, "I want to believe in you!  You saved my life
+and I'm not over-anxious to do you a mischief.  But you must tell
+me what you have done with Vill - Monty."
+
+"Don't you know where he is?" Trent asked quickly.
+
+"I?  Certainly not!  How should I?"
+
+"Perhaps not," Trent said, "but here's the truth.  When I got back
+to Attra Monty had disappeared - ran away to England, and as yet
+I've heard never a word of him.  I'd meant to do the square thing
+by him and bring him back myself.  Instead of that he gave us all
+the slip, but unless he's a lot different to what he was last time
+I saw him, he's not fit to be about alone."
+
+"I heard that he had left," Francis said, "from Mr. Walsh."
+
+"He either came quite alone," Trent said, "in which case it is odd
+that nothing has been heard of him, or Da Souza has got hold of him."
+
+"Oom Sam's brother?"
+
+Trent nodded.
+
+"And his interest?" Francis asked.
+
+"Well, he is a large shareholder in the Company," Trent said.  "Of
+course he could upset us all if he liked.  I should say that Da
+Souza would try all he could to keep him in the background until he
+had disposed of his shares."
+
+"And how does your stock hold?" 
+
+"I don't know," Trent said.  "I only landed yesterday.  I'm pretty
+certain though that there's no market for the whole of Da Souza's
+holding."
+
+"He has a large interest, then?"
+
+"A very large one," Trent answered drily.
+
+"I should like," Francis said, "to understand this matter properly.
+As a matter of fact I suppose that Monty is entitled to half the
+purchase-money you received for the Company.
+
+Trent assented.
+
+"It isn't that I grudge him that," he said, "although, with the
+other financial enterprises I have gone into, I don't know how I
+should raise half a million of money to pay him off.  But don't
+you see my sale of the charter to the Company is itself, Monty being
+alive, an illegal act.  The title will be wrong, and the whole
+affair might drift into Chancery, just when a vigorous policy is
+required to make the venture a success.  If Monty were here and in
+his right mind, I think we could come to terms, but, when I saw him
+last at any rate, he was quite incapable, and he might become a tool
+to anything.  The Bears might get hold of him and ruin us all.  In
+short, it's a beastly mess!"
+
+Francis looked at him keenly.
+
+"What do you expect me to do?" he asked.
+
+"I have no right to expect anything," Trent said.  "However, I saved
+your life and you may consider yourself therefore under some
+obligation to me.  I will tell you then what I would have you do.
+In the first place, I know no more where he is than you do.  He may
+be in England or he may not.  I shall go to Da Souza, who probably
+knows.  You can come with me if you like.  I don't want to rob the
+man of a penny.  He shall have all he is entitled to - only I do
+want to arrange terms with him quietly, and not have the thing
+talked about.  It's as much for the others' sake as my own.  The
+men who came into my Syndicate trusted me, and I don't want them
+left."
+
+Francis took a little silver case from his pocket, lit a cigarette,
+and smoked for a moment or two thoughtfully.
+
+"It is possible," he said at last, "that you are an honest man.
+On the other hand you must admit that the balance of probability
+from my point of view is on the other side.  Let us travel backwards
+a little way - to my first meeting with you.  I witnessed the
+granting of this concession to you by the King of Bekwando.
+According to its wording you were virtually Monty's heir, and Monty
+was lying drunk, in a climate where strong waters and death walk
+hand-in-hand.  You leave him in the bush, proclaim his death, and
+take sole possession.  I find him alive, do the best I can for him,
+and here the first act ends.  Then what afterwards?  I hear of you
+as an empire-maker and a millionaire.  Nevertheless, Monty was
+alive and you knew he was alive, but when I reach Attra he has been
+spirited away!  I want to know where!  You say you don't know.  It
+may be true, but it doesn't sound like it."
+
+Trent's under-lip was twitching, a sure sign of the tempest within,
+but he kept himself under restraint and said never a word.
+
+Francis continued, "Now I do not wish to be your enemy, Scarlett
+Trent, or to do you an ill turn, but this is my word to you.
+Produce Monty within a week and open reasonable negotiations for
+treating him fairly, and I will keep silent.  But if you can't
+produce him at the end of that time I must go to his relations
+and lay all these things before them."
+
+Trent rose slowly to his feet.
+
+"Give me your address," he said, "I will do what I can."
+
+Francis tore a leaf from his pocket-book and wrote a few words upon
+it.
+
+"That will find me at any time," he said.  "One moment, Trent.  When
+I saw you first you were with - a lady."
+
+"Well!"
+
+"I have been away from England so long," Francis continued slowly,
+"that my memory has suffered.  Yet that lady's face was somehow
+familiar.  May I ask her name?"
+
+"Miss Ernestine Wendermott," Trent answered slowly.
+
+Francis threw away his cigarette and lit another.
+
+"Thank you," he said.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+
+Da Souza's office was neither furnished nor located with the idea
+of impressing casual visitors.  It was in a back-street off an
+alley, and although within a stone's throw of Lothbury its immediate
+surroundings were not exhilarating.  A blank wall faced it, a
+green-grocer's shop shared with a wonderful, cellar-like public-house
+the honour of its more immediate environment.  Trent, whose first
+visit it was, looked about him with surprise mingled with some
+disgust.
+
+He pushed open the swing door and found himself face to face with
+Da Souza's one clerk - a youth of unkempt appearance, shabbily but
+flashily dressed, with sallow complexion and eyes set close together.
+He was engaged at that particular moment in polishing a large
+diamond pin upon the sleeve of his coat, which operation he suspended
+to gaze with much astonishment at this unlocked-for visitor.  Trent
+had come straight from Ascot, straight indeed from his interview
+with Francis, and was still wearing his racing-glasses.
+
+"I wish to see Mr. Da Souza," Trent said.  "Is he in?"
+
+"I believe so, sir," the boy answered.  "What name?"
+
+"Trent!  Mr. Scarlett Trent!"
+
+The door of an inner office opened, and Da Souza, sleek and curled,
+presented himself.  He showed all his white teeth in the smile
+with which he welcomed his visitor.  The light of battle was in his
+small, keen eyes, in his cringing bow, his mock humility.
+
+"I am most honoured, Mr. Trent, sir," he declared.  "Welcome back
+to England.  When did you return?"
+
+"Yesterday," Trent said shortly.
+
+"And you have come," Da Souza continued, "fresh from the triumphs
+of the race-course.  It is so, I trust?"
+
+"I have come straight from Ascot," Trent replied, "but my horse was
+beaten if that is what you mean.  I did not come here to talk about
+racing though.  I want a word with you in private."
+
+"With much pleasure, sir," Da Souza answered, throwing open with a
+little flourish the door of his sanctum.  "Will you step in?  This
+way!  The chair is dusty.  Permit me!"
+
+Trent threw a swift glance around the room in which he found himself.
+It was barely furnished, and a window, thick with dust, looked out
+on the dingy back-wall of a bank or some public building.  The floor
+was uncovered, the walls were hung with yellow maps of gold-mines all
+in the West African district.  Da Souza himself, spick and span, with
+glossy boots and a flower in his buttonhole, was certainly the least
+shabby thing in the room.
+
+"You know very well," Trent said, "what I have come about.  Of course
+you'll pretend you don't, so to save time I'll tell you.  What have
+you done with Monty?"
+
+Da Souza spread outwards the palms of his hands.  He spoke with
+well-affected impatience.
+
+"Monty!  always Monty!  What do I want with him?  It is you who
+should look after him, not I."
+
+Trent turned quietly round and locked the door.  Da Souza would have
+called out, but a paroxysm of fear had seized him.  His fat, white
+face was pallid, and his knees were shaking.  Trent's hand fell upon
+his shoulder, and Da Souza felt as though the claws of a trap had
+gripped him.
+
+"If you call out I'll throttle you," Trent said.  "Now listen.
+Francis is in England and, unless Monty is produced, will tell the
+whole story.  I shall do the best I can for all of us, but I'm not
+going to have Monty done to death.  Come, let's have the truth."
+
+Da Souza was grey now with a fear greater even than a physical one.
+He had been so near wealth.  Was he to lose everything?
+
+"Mr. Trent," he whispered, "my dear friend, have reason.  Monty, I
+tell you, is only half alive, he hangs on, but it is a mere thread
+of life.  Leave it all to me!  To-morrow he shall be dead! - oh,
+quite naturally.  There shall be no risk!  Trent, Trent!"
+
+His cry ended in a gurgle, for Trent's hand was on his throat.
+
+"Listen, you miserable hound," he whispered.  "Take me to him this
+moment, or I'll shake the life out of you.  Did you ever know me
+go back from my word?"
+
+Da Souza took up his hat with an ugly oath and yielded.  The two
+men left the office together.
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+"Listen!"
+
+The two women sat in silence, waiting for some repetition of the
+sound.  This time there was certainly no possibility of any mistake.
+>From the room above their heads came the feeble, quavering sobbing
+of an old man.  Julie threw down her book and sprang up.
+
+"Mother, I cannot bear it any longer," she cried.  "I know where
+the key is, and I am going into that room"
+
+Mrs. Da Souza's portly frame quivered with excitement.
+
+"My child," she pleaded, "don't Julie, do remember!  Your father
+will know, and then - oh, I shall be frightened to death!"
+
+"It is nothing to do with you, mother," the girl said, "I am going."
+
+Mrs. Da Souza produced a capacious pocket-handkerchief, reeking with
+scent, and dabbed her eyes with it.  From the days when she too had
+been like Julie, slim and pretty, she had been every hour in dread
+of her husband.  Long ago her spirit had been broken and her
+independence subdued.  To her friend and confidants no word save of
+pride and love for her husband had ever passed her lips, yet now as
+she watched her daughter she was conscious of a wild, passionate
+wish that her fate at least might be a different one.  And while
+she mopped her eyes and looked backward, Julie disappeared.
+
+Even Julie, as she ascended the stairs with the key of the locked
+room in her hand, was conscious of unusual tremors.  If her position
+with regard to her father was not the absolute condition of serfdom
+into which her mother had been ground down, she was at least afraid
+of him, and she remembered the strict commands he had laid upon them
+all.  The room was not to be open save by himself.  All cries and
+entreaties were to be disregarded, every one was to behave as though
+that room did not exist.  They had borne it already for days, the
+heart-stirring moans, the faint, despairing cries of the prisoner,
+and she could bear it no longer.  She had a tender little heart, and
+from the first it had been moved by the appearance of the pitiful
+old man, leaning so heavily upon her father's arm, as they had come
+up the garden walk together.  She made up her mind to satisfy
+herself at least that his isolation was of his own choice.  So she
+went boldly up the stairs and thrust the key into the lock.  A
+moment's hesitation, then she threw it open.
+
+Her first impulse, when she had looked into the face of the man who
+stumbled up in fear at her entrance, was to then and there abandon
+her enterprise - for Monty just then was not a pleasant sight to
+look upon.  The room was foul with the odour of spirits and tobacco
+smoke.  Monty himself was unkempt and unwashed, his eyes were
+bloodshot, and he had fallen half across the table with the gesture
+of a drunken man.  At the sight of him her pity died away.  After
+all, then, the sobbing they had heard was the maudlin crying of a
+drunken man.  Yet he was very old, and there was something about
+the childish, breathless fear with which he was regarding her which
+made her hesitate.  She lingered instead, and finding him
+tongue-tied, spoke to him.
+
+"We heard you talking to yourself downstairs," she said, "and we
+were afraid that you might be in pain."
+
+"Ah," he muttered, "That is all, then!  There is no one behind you
+ - no one who wants me!"
+
+"There is no one in the house," she assured him, "save my mother
+and myself."
+
+He drew a little breath which ended in a sob.  "You see," he said
+vaguely, "I sit up here hour by hour, and I think that I fancy
+things.  Only a little while ago I fancied that I heard Mr. Walsh's
+voice, and he wanted the mission-box, the wooden box with the cross,
+you know.  I keep on thinking I hear him.  Stupid, isn't it?"
+
+He smiled weakly, and his bony fingers stole round the tumbler
+which stood by his side.  She shook her head at him smiling, and
+crossed over to him.  She was not afraid any more.
+
+"I wouldn't drink if I were you," she said, "it can't be good for
+you, I'm sure!"
+
+"Good," he answered slowly, "it's poison - rank poison."
+
+"If I were you," she said, "I would put all this stuff away and go
+for a nice walk.  It would do you much more good."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"I daren't," he whispered.  "They're looking for me now.  I must
+hide - hide all the time!"
+
+"Who are looking for you?" she asked.
+
+"Don't you know?  Mr. Walsh and his wife!  They have come over
+after me!"
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Didn't you know," he muttered," that I am a thief?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"No, I certainly didn't.  I'm very sorry!"
+
+He nodded his head vigorously a great many times.
+
+"Won't you tell me about it?" she asked.  "Was it anything very bad?"
+
+"I don't know," he said.  "It's so hard to remember!  It is
+something like this!  I seem to have lived for such a long time, and
+when I look back I can remember things that happened a very long
+time ago, but then there seems a gap, and everything is all misty,
+and it makes my head ache dreadfully to try and remember," he moaned.
+
+"Then don't try," she said kindly.  "I'll read to you for a little
+time if you like, and you shall sit quite quiet."
+
+He seemed not to have heard her.  He continued presently - 
+
+"Once before I died, it was all I wanted.  Just to have heard her
+speak, to have seen my little girl grown into a woman, and the sea
+was always there, and Oom Sam would always come with that cursed
+rum.  Then one day came Trent and talked of money and spoke of
+England, and when he went away it rang for ever in my ears, and at
+night I heard her calling for me across the sea.  So I stole out,
+and the great steamer was lying there with red fires at her funnel,
+and I was mad.  She was crying for me across the sea, so I took
+the money!"
+
+She patted his hand gently.  There was a lump in her throat, and
+her eyes were wet.
+
+"Was it your daughter you wanted so much to see?" she asked softly.
+
+"My daughter!  My little girl," he answered!  "And I heard her
+calling to me with her mother's voice across the sea.  So I took
+the money."
+
+"No one would blame you very much for that, I am sure," she said
+cheerfully.  "You are frightening yourself needlessly.  I will
+speak to Father, and he shall help you."
+
+He held up his hand.
+
+"He is hiding me," he whispered.  "It is through him I knew that
+they were after me.  I don't mind for myself, but she might get
+to know, and I have brought disgrace enough upon her.  Listen!"
+
+There were footsteps upon the stairs.  He clung to her in an agony
+of terror.
+
+"They are coming!" he cried.  "Hide me!  Oh, hide me!"
+
+But she too was almost equally terrified, for she had recognised
+her father's tread.  The door was thrown open and De Souza entered,
+followed by Scarlett Trent.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+
+The old man and the girl were equally terrified, both without cause.
+Da Souza forgot for a moment to be angry at his daughter's
+disobedience; and was quick to see that her presence there was all
+to his advantage.  Monty, as white as death, was stricken dumb to
+see Trent.  He sank back gasping into a chair.  Trent came up to
+him with outstretched hands and with a look of keen pity in his
+hard face.
+
+"Monty, old chap," he said, "what on earth are you scared at?  Don't
+you know I'm glad to see you!  Didn't I come to Attra to get you back
+to England?  Shake hands, partner.  I've got lots of money for you
+and good news."
+
+Monty's hand was limp and cold, his eyes were glazed and
+expressionless.  Trent looked at the half-empty bottle by his side
+and turned savagely to Da Souza.
+
+"You blackguard!" he said in a low tone, "you wanted to kill him,
+did you?  Don't you know that to shut him up here and ply him with
+brandy is as much murder as though you stood with a knife at his
+throat?"
+
+"He goes mad without something to drink," Da Souza muttered.
+
+"He'll go mad fast enough with a bottle of brandy within reach, and
+you know it," Trent answered fiercely.  "I am going to take him away
+from here."
+
+Da Souza was no longer cringing.  He shrugged his shoulders and
+thrust his fat little hands into his trousers pockets.
+
+"Very well," he said darkly, "you go your own way.  You won't take
+my advice.  I've been a City man all my life, and I know a thing or
+two.  You bring Monty to the general meeting of the Bekwando Company
+and explain his position, and I tell you, you'll have the whole
+market toppling about your ears.  No concern of mine, of course.  I
+have got rid of a few of my shares, and I'll work a few more off
+before the crash.  But what about you?  What about Scarlett Trent,
+the millionaire?"
+
+"I can afford to lose a bit," Trent answered quietly, "I'm not
+afraid."
+
+Da Souza laughed a little hysterically.
+
+"You think you're a financial genius, I suppose," he said, "because
+you've brought a few things off.  Why, you don't know the A B C of
+the thing.  I tell you this, my friend.  A Company like the Bekwando
+Company is very much like a woman's reputation, drop a hint or two,
+start just a bit of talk, and I tell you the flames'11 soon do the
+work."
+
+Trent turned his back upon him.
+
+"Monty," he said, "you aren't afraid to come with me?"
+
+Monty looked at him, perplexed and troubled.
+ 
+"You've nothing to be afraid of," Trent continued.  "As to the money
+at Mr. Walsh's house, I settled that all up with him before I left
+Attra.  It belonged to you really, for I'd left more than that for
+you."
+
+"There is no one, then," Monty asked in a slow, painful whisper,
+"who will put me in prison?"
+
+"I give you my word, Monty," Trent declared, "that there is not a
+single soul who has any idea of the sort."
+
+"You see, it isn't that I mind," Monty continued in a low, quivering
+voice, "but there's my little girl!  My real name might come out,
+and I wouldn't have her know what I've been for anything."
+
+"She shall not know," Trent said, "I'll promise you'll be perfectly
+safe with me."
+
+Monty rose up weakly.  His knees were shaking, and he was in a
+pitiful state.  He cast a sidelong glance at the brandy bottle by
+his side, and his hand stole out towards it.  But Trent stopped him
+gently but firmly.
+
+"Not now, Monty," he said, "you've had enough of that!"
+
+The man's hand dropped to his side.  He looked into Trent's face,
+and the years seemed to fade away into a mist.
+
+"You were always a hard man, Scarlett Trent," he said.  "You were
+always hard on me!"
+
+"Maybe so," Trent answered, "yet you'd have died in D.T. before now
+but for me!  I kept you from it as far as I could.  I'm going to
+keep you from it now!"
+
+Monty turned a woebegone face around the little room.
+
+"I don't know," he said; "I'm comfortable here, and I'm too old,
+Trent, to live your life.  I'd begin again, Trent, I would indeed,
+if I were ten years younger.  It's too late now!  I couldn't live
+a day without something to keep up my strength!"
+
+"He's quite right, Trent," Da Souza put in hastily.  "He's too old
+to start afresh now.  He's comfortable here and well looked after;
+make him an allowance, or give him a good lump sum in lieu of all
+claims.  I'll draw it out; you'll sign it, won't you, Monty?  Be
+reasonable, Trent!  It's the best course for all of us!"
+
+But Trent shook his head.  "I have made up my mind," he said.  "He
+must come with me.  Monty, there is the little girl!
+
+"Too late," Monty moaned; "look at me!"
+
+"But if you could leave her a fortune, make her magnificent presents?"
+
+Monty wavered then.  His dull eyes shone once more!
+
+"If I could do that," he murmured.
+
+"I pledge my word that you shall," Trent answered.  Monty rose up.
+
+"I am ready," he said simply.  "Let us start at once."
+
+Da Souza planted himself in front of them.
+
+"You defy me!" he said.  "You will not trust him with me or take my
+advice.  Very well, my friend!  Now listen!  You want to ruin me!
+Well, if I go, the Bekwando Company shall go too, you understand!
+Ruin for me shall mean ruin for Mr. Scarlett Trent - ah, ruin and
+disgrace.  It shall mean imprisonment if I can bring it about, and
+I have friends!  Don't you know that you are guilty of fraud?  You
+sold what wasn't yours and put the money in your pocket!  You left
+your partner to rot in a fever swamp, or to be done to death by
+those filthy blacks.  The law will call that swindling!  You will
+find yourself in the dock, my friend, in the prisoners' dock, I say!
+Come, how do you like that, Mr. Scarlett Trent?  If you leave this
+room with him, you are a ruined man.  I shall see to it."
+
+Trent swung him out of the way - a single contemptuous turn of the
+wrist, and Da Souza reeled against the mantelpiece.  He held out
+his hand to Monty and they left the room together.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+
+>From a conversational point of view," Lady Tresham remarked, "our
+guest to-night seems scarcely likely to distinguish himself."
+
+Ernestine looked over her fan across the drawing-room.
+
+"I have never seen such an alteration in a man," she said, "in so
+short a time.  This morning he amazed me.  He knew the right people
+and did the right things - carried himself too like a man who is
+sure of himself.  To-night he is simply a booby."
+
+"Perhaps it is his evening clothes," Lady Tresham remarked, "they
+take some getting used to, I believe."
+
+"This morning," Ernestine said, "he had passed that stage altogether.
+This is, I suppose, a relapse!  Such a nuisance for you!"
+
+Lady Tresham rose and smiled sweetly at the man who was taking her
+in.
+
+"Well, he is to be your charge, so I hope you may find him more
+amusing than he looks," she answered.
+
+It was an early dinner, to be followed by a visit to a popular
+theatre.  A few hours ago Trent was looking forward to his evening
+with the keenest pleasure - now he was dazed - he could not readjust
+his point of view to the new conditions.  He knew very well that it
+was his wealth, and his wealth only, which had brought him as an
+equal amongst these people, all, so far as education and social
+breeding was concerned, of so entirely a different sphere.  He
+looked around the table.  What would they say if they knew?  He
+would be thrust out as an interloper.  Opposite to him was a Peer
+who was even then engaged in threading the meshes of the Bankruptcy
+Court, what did they care for that? - not a whit!  He was of their
+order though he was a beggar.  But as regards himself, he was
+fully conscious of the difference.  The measure of his wealth was
+the measure of his standing amongst them.  Without it he would be
+thrust forth - he could make no claim to association with them.
+The thought filled him with a slow, bitter anger.  He sent away
+his soup untasted, and he could not find heart to speak to the girl
+who had been the will-o'-the-wisp leading him into this evil plight.
+
+Presently she addressed him.
+
+"Mr. Trent!"
+
+He turned round and looked at her.
+
+"Is it necessary for me to remind you, I wonder," she said, "that
+it is usual to address a few remarks - quite as a matter of form,
+you know - to the woman whom you bring in to dinner?"
+
+He eyed her dispassionately.
+
+"I am not used to making conversation," he said.  "Is there anything
+in the world which I could talk about likely to interest you?"
+
+She took a salted almond from a silver dish by his side and smiled
+sweetly upon him.  "Dear me!" she said, "how fierce!  Don't attempt
+it if you feel like that, please!  What have you been doing since I
+saw you last?  - losing your money or your temper, or both?"
+
+He looked at her with a curiously grim smile.
+
+"If I lost the former," he said, "I should very soon cease to be a
+person of interest, or of any account at all, amongst your friends."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"You do not strike one," she remarked, "as the sort of person likely
+to lose a fortune on the race-course."
+
+"You are quite right," he answered, "I think that I won money.  A
+couple of thousand at least."
+
+"Two thousand pounds!"  She actually sighed, and lost her appetite
+for the oyster patty with which she had been trifling.  Trent looked
+around the table.
+
+"At the same time," he continued in a lower key, "I'll make a
+confession to you, Miss Wendermott, I wouldn't care to make to any
+one else here.  I've been pretty lucky as you know, made money fast
+ - piled it up in fact.  To-day, for the first time, I have come
+face to face with the possibility of a reverse."
+
+"Is this a new character?" she murmured.  "Are you becoming
+faint-hearted?"
+
+"It is no ordinary reverse," he said slowly.  "It is collapse
+ - everything!"
+
+"0 - oh!"
+
+She looked at him attentively.  Her own heart was beating.  If he
+had not been engrossed by his care lest any one might over-hear
+their conversation, he would have been astonished at the change in
+her face
+
+"You are talking in enigmas surely," she said.  "Nothing of that
+sort could possibly happen to you.  They tell me that the Bekwando
+Land shares are priceless, and that you must make millions."
+
+"This afternoon," he said, raising his glass to his lips and
+draining it, "I think that I must have dozed upon the lawn at Ascot.
+I sat there for some time, back amongst the trees, and I think that
+I must have fallen to sleep.  There was a whisper in my ears and I
+saw myself stripped of everything.  How was it?  I forget now!  A
+concession repudiated, a bank failure, a big slump - what does it
+matter?  The money was gone, and I was simply myself again, Scarlett
+Trent, a labourer, penniless and of no account."
+
+"It must have been an odd sensation," she said thoughtfully.
+
+"I will tell you what it made me realise," be said.  "I am drifting
+into a dangerous position.  I am linking myself to a little world
+to whom, personally, I am as nothing and less than nothing.  I am
+tolerated for my belongings!  If by any chance I were to lose these,
+what would become of me?"
+
+"You are a man," she said, looking at him earnestly; "you have the
+nerve and wits of a man, what you have done before you might do
+again."
+
+"In the meantime I should be ostracised." 
+
+"By a good many people, no doubt."
+
+He held his peace for a time, and ate and drank what was set before
+him.  He was conscious that his was scarcely a dinner-table manner.
+He was too eager, too deeply in earnest.  People opposite were
+looking at them, Ernestine talked to her vis-a-vis.  It was some
+time before he spoke again, when he did he took up the thread of
+their conversation where he had left it.
+
+"By the majority, of course," he said.  "I have wondered sometimes
+whether there might be any one who would be different."
+
+"I should be sorry," she said demurely.
+
+"Sorry, yes; so would the tradespeople who had had my money and the
+men who call themselves my friends and forget that they are my
+debtors."
+
+"You are cynical."
+
+"I cannot help it," he answered.  "It is my dream.  To-day, you
+know, I have stood face to face with evil things."
+
+"Do you know," she said, "I should never have called you a dreamer,
+a man likely to fancy things.  I wonder if anything has really
+happened to make you talk like this?"
+
+He flashed a quick glance at her underneath his heavy brows.
+Nothing in her face betrayed any more than the most ordinary
+interest in what he was saying.  Yet somehow, from that moment, he
+had uneasy doubts concerning her, whether there might be by any
+chance some reason for the tolerance and the interest with which
+she had regarded him from the first.  The mere suspicion of it was
+a shock to him.  He relapsed once more into a state of nervous
+silence.  Ernestine yawned, and her hostess threw more than one
+pitying glance towards her.
+
+Afterwards the whole party adjourned to the theatre, altogether in
+an informal manner.  Some of the guests had carriages waiting,
+others went down in hansoms.  Ernestine was rather late in coming
+downstairs and found Trent waiting for her in the hall.  She was
+wearing a wonderful black satin opera cloak with pale green lining,
+her maid had touched up her hair and wound a string of pearls around
+her neck.  He watched her as she came slowly down the stairs,
+buttoning her gloves, and looking at him with eyebrows faintly
+raised to see him waiting there alone.  After all, what folly!  Was
+it likely that wealth, however great, could ever make him of her
+world, could ever bring him in reality one degree nearer to her?
+That night he had lost all confidence.  He told himself that it was
+the rankest presumption to even think of her.
+
+"The others," he said, "have gone on.  Lady Tresham left word that
+I was to take you."
+
+She glanced at the old-fashioned clock which stood in the corner
+of the hall.
+
+"How ridiculous to have hurried so!" she said.  One might surely be
+comfortable here instead of waiting at the theatre."
+
+She walked towards the door with him.  His own little night-brougham
+was waiting there, and she stepped into it.
+
+"I am surprised at Lady Tresham," she said, smiling.  "I really
+don't think that I am at all properly chaperoned.  This comes, I
+suppose, from having acquired a character for independence."
+
+Her gown seemed to fill the carriage - a little sea of frothy lace
+and muslin.  He hesitated on the pavement.
+
+"Shall I ride outside?" he suggested.  "I don't want to crush you."
+
+She gathered up her skirt at once and made room for him.  He
+directed the driver and stepped in beside her.
+
+"I hope," she said, "that your cigarette restored your spirits.
+You are not going to be as dull all the evening as you were at
+dinner, are you?"
+
+He sighed a little wistfully.  "I'd like to talk to you," he said
+simply, "but somehow to-night... you know it was much easier when
+you were a journalist from the 'Hour'."
+
+"Well, that is what I am now," she said, laughing.  "Only I can't
+get away from all my old friends at once.  The day after to-morrow
+I shall be back at work."
+
+"Do you mean it?" he asked incredulously.
+
+"Of course I do!  You don't suppose I find this sort of thing
+particularly amusing, do you?  Hasn't it ever occurred to you that
+there must be a terrible sameness about people who have been
+brought up amongst exactly the same surroundings and taught to
+regard life from exactly the same point of view?"
+
+"But you belong to them - you have their instincts."
+
+"I may belong to them in some ways, but you know that I am a
+revolted daughter.  Haven't I proved it?  Haven't I gone out into
+the world, to the horror of all my relatives, for the sole purpose
+of getting a firmer grip of life?  And yet, do you know, Mr. Trent,
+I believe that to-night you have forgotten that.  You have
+remembered my present character only, and, in despair of interesting
+a fashionable young lady, you have not talked to me at all, and I
+have been very dull."
+
+"It is quite true," he assented.  "All around us they were talking
+of things of which I knew nothing, and you were one of them."
+
+"How foolish!  You could have talked to me about Fred and the
+road-making in Africa and I should have been more interested than
+in anything they could have said to me."
+
+They were passing a brilliantly-lit corner, and the light flashed
+upon his strong, set face with its heavy eyebrows and firm lips.
+He leaned back and laughed hoarsely.  Was it her fancy, she wondered,
+or did he seem not wholly at his ease.
+
+"Haven't I told you a good deal?  I should have thought that Fred
+and I between us had told you all about Africa that you would care
+to hear."
+
+She shook her head.  What she said next sounded to him, in a certain
+sense, enigmatic.
+
+"There is a good deal left for you to tell me," she said.  "Some
+day I shall hope to know everything."
+
+He met her gaze without flinching.
+
+"Some day," he said, "I hope you will."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+
+The carriage drew up at the theatre and he handed her out - a little
+awkwardly perhaps, but without absolute clumsiness.  They found all
+the rest of the party already in their seats and the curtain about
+to go up.  They took the two end stalls, Trent on the outside.  One
+chair only, next to him, remained unoccupied.
+
+"You people haven't hurried," Lady Tresham remarked, leaning forward.
+
+"We are in time at any rate," Ernestine answered, letting her cloak
+fall upon the back of the stall.
+
+The curtain was rung up and the play began.  It was a modern society
+drama, full of all the most up-to-date fashionable jargon and
+topical illusions.  Trent grew more and more bewildered at every
+moment.  Suddenly, towards the end of the first act, a fine dramatic
+situation leaped out like a tongue of fire.  The interest of the
+whole audience, up to then only mildly amused, became suddenly
+intense.  Trent sat forward in his seat.  Ernestine ceased to fan
+herself.  The man and the woman stood face to face - the light
+badinage which had been passing between them suddenly ended - the
+man, with his sin stripped bare, mercilessly exposed, the woman,
+his accuser, passionately eloquent, pouring out her scorn upon a
+mute victim.  The audience knew what the woman in the play did
+not know, that it was for love of her that the man had sinned, to
+save her from a terrible danger which had hovered very near her
+life.  The curtain fell, the woman leaving the room with a final
+taunt flung over her shoulder, the man seated at a table looking
+steadfastly into the fire with fixed, unseeing eyes.  The audience
+drew a little breath and then applauded; the orchestra struck up
+and a buzz of conversation began.
+
+It was then that Ernestine first noticed how absorbed the man at
+her side had become.  His hands were gripping the arms of the stall,
+his eyes were fixed upon the spot somewhere behind the curtain where
+this sudden little drama had been played out, as though indeed they
+could pierce the heavy upholstery and see beyond into the room where
+the very air seemed quivering still with the vehemence of the woman's
+outpoured scorn.  Ernestine spoke to him at last, the sound of her
+voice brought him back with a start to the present.
+
+"You like it?"
+
+"The latter part," he answered.  "What a sudden change!  At first I
+thought it rubbish, afterwards it was wonderful!"
+
+"Hubert is a fine actor," she remarked, fanning herself.  "It was
+his first opportunity in the play, and he certainly took advantage
+of it."
+
+He turned deliberately round in his seat towards her, and she was
+struck with the forceful eagerness of his dark, set face.
+
+"The man," he whispered hoarsely, "sinned for the love of the woman.
+Was he right?  Would a woman forgive a man who deceived her for her
+own sake - when she knew?"
+
+Ernestine held up her programme and studied it deeply.
+
+"I cannot tell," she said, "it depends."
+
+Trent drew a little breath and turned away.  A quiet voice from his
+other side whispered in his ear - "The woman would forgive if she
+cared for the man."
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+Trent turned sharply and the light died out of his voice.  Surely
+it was an evil omen, this man's coming; for it was Captain Francis
+who had taken the vacant seat and who was watching his astonishment
+with a somewhat saturnine smile.
+
+"Rather a stupid play, isn't it?  By the by, Trent, I wish you would
+ask Miss Wendermott's permission to present me.  I met her young
+cousin out at Attra."
+
+Ernestine heard and leaned forward smiling.  Trent did as he was
+asked, with set teeth and an ill grace.  From then, until the
+curtain went up for the next act, he had only to sit still and
+listen.
+
+Afterwards the play scarcely fulfilled the promise of its
+commencement.  At the third act Trent had lost all interest in it.
+Suddenly an idea occurred to him.  He drew a card from his pocket
+and, scribbling a word or two on it, passed it along to Lady
+Tresham.  She leaned forward and smiled approval upon him.
+
+"Delightful!"
+
+Trent reached for his hat and whispered in Ernestine's ear.
+
+"You are all coming to supper with me at the 'Milan,'" he said;
+"I am going on now to see about it."
+
+She smiled upon him, evidently pleased.
+
+"What a charming idea!  But do you mean all of us?"
+
+"Why not?"
+
+He found his carriage outside without much difficulty and drove
+quickly round to the Milan Restaurant.  The director looked doubtful.
+
+"A table for eighteen, sir!  It is quite too late to arrange it,
+except in a private room."
+
+"The ladies prefer the large room," Trent answered decidedly, "and
+you must arrange it somehow.  I'll give you carte blanche as to what
+you serve, but it must be of the best."
+
+The man bowed.  This must be a millionaire, for the restaurant was
+the "Milan."
+
+"And the name, sir?"
+
+"Scarlett Trent - you may not know me, but Lady Tresham, Lord
+Colliston, and the Earl of Howton are amongst my guests."
+
+The man saw no more difficulties.  The name of Scarlett Trent was
+the name which impressed him.  The English aristocrat he had but
+little respect for, but a millionaire was certainly next to the gods.
+
+"We must arrange the table crossways, sir, at the end of the room,"
+he said.  "And about the flowers?"
+
+"The best, and as many as you can get," Trent answered shortly.  "I
+have a 1OO pound note with me.  I shall not grumble if I get little
+change out of it, but I want value for the money."
+
+"You shall have it, sir!  " the man answered significantly - and he
+kept his word.
+
+Trent reached the theatre only as the people were streaming out.
+In the lobby he came face to face with Ernestine and Francis.  They
+were talking together earnestly, but ceased directly they saw him.
+
+"I have been telling Captain Francis," Ernestine said, "of your
+delightful invitation."
+
+"I hope that Captain Francis will join us," Trent said coldly.
+
+Francis stepped behind for a moment to light a cigarette.
+
+"I shall be delighted," he answered.
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+The supper party was one of those absolute and complete successes
+which rarely fall to the lot of even the most carefully thought out
+of social functions.  Every one of Lady Tresham's guests had
+accepted the hurried invitation, every one seemed in good spirits,
+and delighted at the opportunity of unrestrained conversation after
+several hours at the theatre.  The supper itself, absolutely the
+best of its kind, from the caviare and plovers' eggs to the
+marvellous ices, and served in one of the handsomest rooms in London,
+was really beyond criticism.  To Trent it seemed almost like a dream,
+as he leaned back in his chair and looked down at the little party
+ - the women with their bare shoulders and jewels, bathed in the soft
+glow of the rose-shaded electric lights, the piles of beautiful pink
+and white flowers, the gleaming silver, and the wine which frothed
+in their glasses.  The music of the violins on the balcony blended
+with the soft, gay voices of the women.  Ernestine was by his side,
+every one was good-humoured and enjoying his hospitality.  Only one
+face at the table was a reminder of the instability of his fortunes
+ - a face he had grown to hate during the last few hours with a
+passionate, concentrated hatred.  Yet the man was of the same race
+as these people, his connections were known to many of them, he was
+making new friends and reviving old ties every moment.  During a
+brief lull in the conversation his clear, soft voice suddenly
+reached Trent's ears.  He was telling a story.
+
+"Africa," he was saying, "is a country of surprises.  Attra seems
+to be a city of hopeless exile for all white people.  Last time I
+was there I used to notice every day a very old man making a
+pretence of working in a kitchen garden attached to a little white
+mission-house - a Basle Society depot.  He always seemed to be
+leaning on his spade, always gazing out seawards in the same intent,
+fascinated way.  Some one told me his history at last.  He was an
+Englishman of good position who had got into trouble in his younger
+days and served a term of years in prison.  When he came out, sooner
+than disgrace his family further, he published a false account of
+his death and sailed under a disguised name for Africa.  There he
+has lived ever since, growing older and sinking lower, often near
+fortune but always missing it, a slave to bad habits, weak and
+dissolute if you like, but ever keeping up his voluntary sacrifice,
+ever with that unconquerable longing for one last glimpse of his
+own country and his own people.  I saw him, not many months ago,
+still there, still with his eyes turned seawards and with the same
+wistful droop of the head.  Somehow I can't help thinking that that
+old man was also a hero."
+
+The tinkling of glasses and the sort murmuring of whispered
+conversation had ceased during Francis' story.  Every one was a
+little affected - the soft throbbing of the violins upon the balcony
+was almost a relief.  Then there was a little murmur of sympathetic
+remarks - but amongst it all Trent sat at the head of the table
+with white, set face but with red fire before his eyes.  This man
+had played him false.  He dared not look at Ernestine - only he knew
+that her eyes were wet with tears and that her bosom was heaving.
+
+The spirits of men and women who sup are mercurial things, and it
+was a gay leave-taking half an hour or so later in the little
+Moorish room at the head of the staircase.  But Ernestine left her
+host without even appearing to see his outstretched hand, and he
+let her go without a word.  Only when Francis would have followed
+her Trent laid a heavy hand upon his shoulder.
+
+"I must have a word with you, Francis," he said.
+
+"I will come back," he said.  "I must see Miss Wendermott into her
+carriage."
+
+But Trent's hand remained there, a grip of iron from which there was
+no escaping.  He said nothing, but Francis knew his man and had no
+idea of making a scene.  So he remained till the last had gone and
+a tall, black servant had brought their coats from the cloak-room.
+
+"You will come with me please," Trent said, "I have a few words to
+say to you."
+
+Francis shrugged his shoulders and obeyed.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+
+Scarcely a word passed between the two men until they found
+themselves in the smoking-room of Trent's house.  A servant
+noiselessly arranged decanters and cigars upon the sideboard, and,
+in response to an impatient movement of Trent's, withdrew.  Francis
+lit a cigarette.  Trent, contrary to his custom, did not smoke.  He
+walked to the door and softly locked it.  Then he returned and stood
+looking down at his companion.
+
+"Francis," he said, "you have been my enemy since the day I saw you
+first in Bekwando village."
+
+Scarcely that," Francis objected.  "I have distrusted you since then
+if you like."
+
+"Call it what you like," Trent answered.  "Only to-night you have
+served me a scurvy trick.  You were a guest at my table and you gave
+me not the slightest warning.  On the contrary, this morning you
+offered me a week's respite."
+
+"The story I told," Francis answered, "could have had no significance
+to them."
+
+"I don't know whether you are trying to deceive me or not," Trent
+said, "only if you do not know, let me tell you - Miss Wendermott
+is that old man's daughter!"
+
+The man's start was real.  There was no doubt about that.  "And
+she knew?"
+
+"She knew that he had been in Africa, but she believed that he had
+died there.  What she believes at this moment I cannot tell.  Your
+story evidently moved her.  She will probably try to find out from
+you the truth."
+
+Francis nodded.
+
+"She has asked me to call upon her to-morrow."
+
+"Exactly.  Now, forgive my troubling you with personal details, but
+you've got to understand.  I mean Miss Wendermott to be my wife."
+
+Francis sat up in his chair genuinely surprised.  Something like a
+scowl was on his dark, sallow face.
+
+"Your wife !' he exclaimed, "aren't you joking, Trent?"
+
+"I am not," Trent answered sharply.  "From the moment I saw her that
+has been my fixed intention.  Every one thinks of me as simply a
+speculator with the money fever in my veins.  Perhaps that was true
+once.  It isn't now!  I must be rich to give her the position she
+deserves.  That's all I care for money."'
+
+"I am very much interested," Francis said slowly, "to hear of your
+intentions.  Hasn't it occurred to you, however, that your
+behaviour toward Miss Wendermott's father will take a great deal of
+explanation?"
+
+"If there is no interference," Trent said, "I can do it.  There is
+mystery on her part too, for I offered a large reward and news of
+him through my solicitor, and she actually refused to reply.  She
+has refused any money accruing to her through her father, or to be
+brought into contact with any one who could tell her about him."
+
+"The fact," Francis remarked drily, "is scarcely to her credit.
+Monty may have been disreputable enough, I've no doubt he was; but
+his going away and staying there all these years was a piece of
+noble unselfishness."
+
+"Monty has been hardly used in some ways," Trent said.  "I've done
+my best by him, though."
+
+"That," Francis said coldly, "is a matter of opinion."
+
+"I know very well," Trent answered, "what yours is.  You are welcome
+to it.  You can blackguard me all round London if you like in a week
+ - but I want a week's grace."
+
+"Why should I grant it you?"
+
+Trent shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I won't threaten," he said, "and I won't offer to bribe you, but
+I've got to have that week's grace.  We're both men, Francis, who've
+been accustomed to our own way, I think.  I want to know on what
+terms you'll grant it me."
+
+Francis knocked the ash off his cigarette and rose slowly to his
+feet.
+
+"You want to know," he repeated meditatively, "on what terms I'll
+hold my tongue for a week.  Well, here's my answer!  On no terms
+at all!"
+
+"You don't mean that," Trent said quietly.
+
+"We shall see," Francis answered grimly.  "I'll be frank with you,
+Trent.  When we came in here you called me your enemy.  Well, in
+a sense you were right.  I distrusted and disliked you from the
+moment I first met you in Bekwando village with poor old Monty for
+a partner, and read the agreement you had drawn up and the clause
+about the death of either making the survivor sole legatee.  In a
+regular fever swamp Monty was drinking poison like water - and you
+were watching.  That may have seemed all right to you.  To me it
+was very much like murder.  It was my mistrust of you which made me
+send men after you both through the bush, and, sure enough, they
+found poor Monty abandoned, left to die while you had hastened off
+to claim your booty.  After that I had adventures enough of my own
+for a bit and I lost sight of you until I came across you and your
+gang road-making, and I am bound to admit that you saved my life.
+That's neither here nor there.  I asked about Monty and you told me
+some plausible tale.  I went to the place you spoke of - to find
+him of course spirited away.  We have met again in England, Scarlett
+Trent, and I have asked once more for Monty.  Once more I am met
+with evasions.  This morning I granted you a week - now I take back
+my word.  I am going to make public what I know to-morrow morning."
+
+"Since this morning, then," Trent said, "your ill-will toward me
+has increased."
+
+"Quite true," Francis answered.  "We are playing with the cards upon
+the table, so I will be frank with you.  What you told me about your
+intentions towards Miss Wendermott makes me determined to strike at
+once!"
+
+"You yourself, I fancy," Trent said quietly, "admired her?"
+
+"More than any woman I have ever met," Francis answered promptly,
+"and I consider your attitude towards her grossly presumptuous."
+
+Trent stood quite still for a moment - then he unlocked the door.
+
+"You had better go, Francis," he said quietly.  "I have a defence
+prepared but I will reserve it.  And listen, when I locked that
+door it was with a purpose.  I had no mind to let you leave as you
+are leaving.  Never mind.  You can go - only be quick."
+
+Francis paused upon the threshold.  "You understand," he said
+significantly.
+
+"I understand," Trent answered.
+
+     *           *           *           *           *
+
+An hour passed, and Trent still remained in the chair before his
+writing-table, his head upon his hand, his eyes fixed upon vacancy.
+Afterwards he always thought of that hour as one of the bitterest
+of his life.  A strong and self-reliant man, he had all his life
+ignored companionship, had been well content to live without friends,
+self-contained and self-sufficient.  To-night the spectre of a great
+loneliness sat silently by his side!  His heart was sore, his pride
+had been bitterly touched, the desire and the whole fabric of his
+life was in imminent and serious danger.
+
+The man who had left him was an enemy and a prejudiced man, but
+Trent knew that he was honest.  He was the first human being to
+whom he had ever betrayed the solitary ambition of his life, and
+his scornful words seemed still to bite the air.  If - he was right!
+Why not?  Trent looked with keen, merciless eyes through his past,
+and saw never a thing there to make him glad.  He had started life
+a workman, with a few ambitions' all of a material nature - he had
+lived the life of a cold, scheming money-getter, absolutely selfish,
+negatively moral, doing little evil perhaps, but less good.  There
+was nothing in his life to make him worthy of a woman's love, most
+surely there was nothing which could ever make it possible that such
+a woman as Ernestine Wendermott should ever care for him.  All the
+wealth of Africa could never make him anything different from what
+he was.  And yet, as he sat and realised this, he knew that he was
+writing down his life a failure.  For, beside his desire for her,
+there were no other things he cared for in life.  Already he was
+weary of financial warfare - the City life had palled upon him.  He
+looked around the magnificent room in the mansion which his agents
+had bought and furnished for him.  He looked at the pile of letters
+waiting for him upon his desk, little square envelopes many of them,
+but all telling the same tale, all tributes to his great success,
+and the mockery of it all smote hard upon the walls of his fortitude.
+Lower and lower his head drooped until it was buried in his folded
+arms - and the hour which followed he always reckoned the bitterest
+of his life.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+
+A little earlier than usual next morning Trent was at his office in
+the City, prepared for the worst, and in less than half an hour he
+found himself face to face with one of those crises known to most
+great financiers at some time or other during their lives.  His
+credit was not actually assailed, but it was suspended.  The general
+public did not understand the situation, even those who were in a
+measure behind the scenes found it hard to believe that the attack
+upon the Bekwando Gold and Land shares was purely a personal one.
+For it was Da Souza who had fired the train, who had flung his large
+holding of shares upon the market, and, finding them promptly taken
+up, had gone about with many pious exclamations of thankfulness and
+sinister remarks.  Many smaller holders followed suit, and yet never
+for a moment did the market waver.  Gradually it leaked out that
+Scarlett Trent was the buyer, and public interest leaped up at once.
+Would Trent be able to face settling-day without putting his vast
+holdings upon the market?  If so the bulls were going to have the
+worst knock they had had for years - and yet - and yet - the murmur
+went round from friend to friend - " Sell your Bekwandos."
+
+At midday there came an urgent message from Trent's bankers, and
+as he read it he cursed.  It was short but eloquent.
+
+"DEAR SIR, - We notice that your account to-day stands 119,000
+pounds overdrawn, against which we hold as collateral security shares
+in the Bekwando Land Company to the value of 150,000 pounds.  As we
+have received certain very disquieting information concerning the
+value of these shares, we must ask you to adjust the account before
+closing hours to-day, or we shall be compelled to place the shares
+upon the market.
+                                         "Yours truly,
+                                    "A.  SINCLAIR, General Manager."
+
+Trent tore the letter into atoms, but he never quailed.  Telegraph
+and telephone worked his will, he saw all callers, a cigar in his
+mouth and flower in his buttonhole, perfectly at his ease, sanguine
+and confident.  A few minutes before closing time he strolled into
+the bank and no one noticed a great bead of perspiration which stood
+out upon his forehead.  He made out a credit slip for 119,000 pounds,
+and, passing it across the counter with a roll of notes and cheques,
+asked for his shares.
+
+They sent for the manager.  Trent was ushered with much ceremony
+into his private room.  The manager was flushed and nervous.
+
+"I am afraid you must have misunderstood my note, Mr. Trent," he
+stammered.  But Trent, remembering all that he had gone through to
+raise the money, stopped him short.
+
+"This is not a friendly call, Mr. Sinclair," he said, "but simply
+a matter of business.  I wish to clear my account with you to the
+last halfpenny, and I will take my shares away with me.  I have
+paid in the amount I owe.  Let one of your clerks make out the
+interest account."
+
+The manager rang the bell for the key of the security safe.  He
+opened it and took out the shares with fingers which trembled a
+good deal.
+
+"Did I understand you, Mr. Trent, that you desired to absolutely
+close the account?" he asked.
+
+"Most decidedly," Trent answered.
+
+"We shall be very sorry to lose you."
+
+"The sorrow will be all on your side, then," Trent answered grimly.
+"You have done your best to ruin me, you and that blackguard Da
+Souza, who brought me here.  If you had succeeded in lumping those
+shares upon the market to-day or to-morrow, you know very well what
+the result would have been.  I don't know whose game you have been
+playing, but I can guess!"
+
+"I can assure you, Mr. Trent," the manager declared in his suavest
+and most professional manner, "that you are acting under a complete
+misapprehension.  I will admit that our notice was a little short.
+Suppose we withdraw it altogether, eh?  I am quite satisfied.  We
+will put back the shares in the safe and you shall keep your money."
+
+"No, I'm d - d if you do!" Trent answered bluntly.  "You've had your
+money and I'll have the shares.  I don't leave this bank without
+them, and I'll be shot if ever I enter it again."
+
+So Trent, with his back against the wall and not a friend to help
+him, faced for twenty-four hours the most powerful bull syndicate
+which had ever been formed against a single Company.  Inquiries as
+to his right of title had poured in upon him, and to all of them
+he had returned the most absolute and final assurances.  Yet he knew
+when closing-time came, that he had exhausted every farthing he
+possessed in the world - it seemed hopeless to imagine that he could
+survive another day.  But with the morning came a booming cable from
+Bekwando.  There had been a great find of gold before ever a shaft
+had been sunk; an expert, from whom as yet nothing had been heard,
+wired an excited and wonderful report.  Then the men who had held
+on to their Bekwandos rustled their morning papers and walked
+smiling to their offices.  Prices leaped up.  Trent's directors
+ceased to worry him and wired invitations to luncheon at the West
+End.  The bulls were the sport of everybody.  When closing-time came
+Trent had made 100,000 pounds, and was looked upon everywhere as one
+of the rocks of finance.
+
+Only then he began to realise what the strain had been to him.  His
+hard, impassive look had never altered, he had been seen everywhere
+in his accustomed City haunts, his hat a little better brushed than
+usual, his clothes a little more carefully put on, his buttonhole
+more obvious and his laugh readier.  No one guessed the agony through
+which he had passed, no one knew that he had spent the night at a
+little inn twelve miles away, to which he had walked after nine
+o'clock at night.  He had not a single confidant, even his cashier
+had no idea whence came the large sums of money which he had paid
+away right and left.  But when it was all over he left the City,
+and, leaning back in the corner of his little brougham, was driven
+away to Pont Street.  Here he locked himself in his room, took off
+his coat and threw himself upon a sofa with a big cigar between
+his teeth.
+
+"If you let any one in to see me, Miles," he told the footman, "I'll
+kick you out of the house."  So, though the bell rang often, he
+remained alone.  But as he lay there with half-closed eyes living
+again through the tortures of the last few hours, he heard a voice
+that startled him.  It was surely hers - already!  He sprang up and
+opened the door.  Ernestine and Captain Francis were in the hall.
+
+He motioned them to follow him into the room.  Ernestine was flushed
+and her eyes were very bright.  She threw up her veil and faced him
+haughtily.  "Where is he?" she asked.  "I know everything.  I insist
+upon seeing him at once."
+
+"That," he said coolly, "will depend upon whether he is fit to see
+you!"
+
+He rang the bell.
+
+"Tell Miss Fullagher to step this way a moment," he ordered.
+
+"He is in this house, then," she cried.  He took no notice.  In a
+moment a young woman dressed in the uniform of one of the principal
+hospitals entered.
+
+"Miss Fullagher," he asked, "how is the patient?"
+
+"We've had a lot of trouble with him, sir," she said significantly.
+"He was terrible all last night, and he's very weak this morning.
+Is this the young lady, sir?"
+
+"This is the young lady who I told you would want to see him when
+you thought it advisable."
+
+The nurse looked doubtful.  "Sir Henry is upstairs, sir," she said.
+"I had better ask his advice."
+
+Trent nodded and she withdrew.  The three were left alone, Ernestine
+and Francis remained apart as though by design.  Trent was silent.
+
+She returned in a moment or two.
+
+"Sir Henry has not quite finished his examination, sir," she
+announced.  "The young lady can come up in half an hour."
+
+Again they were left alone.  Then Trent crossed the room and stood
+between them and the door.
+
+"Before you see your father, Miss Wendermott," he said, "I have an
+explanation to make to you!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+
+He looked at him calmly, but in her set, white face he seemed to
+read already his sentence!
+
+"Do you think it worth while, Mr. Trent?  There is so much, as you
+put it, to be explained, that the task, even to a man of your
+versatility, seems hopeless!"
+
+"I shall not trouble you long," he said.  "At least one man's word
+should be as good as another's - and you have listened to what my
+enemy " - he motioned towards Francis - " has to say."
+
+Francis shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I can assure you," he interrupted, "that I have no feeling of
+enmity towards you in the slightest.  My opinion you know.  I have
+never troubled to conceal it.  But I deny that I am prejudiced
+by any personal feeling."
+
+Trent ignored his speech.
+
+"What I have to say to you," he continued addressing Ernestine, "I
+want to say before you see your father.  I won't take up your time.
+I won't waste words.  I take you back ten years to when I met him
+at Attra and we became partners in a certain enterprise.  Your
+father at that time was a harmless wreck of a man who was fast
+killing himself with brandy.  He had some money, I had none.  With
+it we bought the necessary outfit and presents for my enterprise
+and started for Bekwando.  The whole of the work fell to my share,
+and with great trouble I succeeded in obtaining the concessions we
+were working for.  Your father spent all his time drinking, and
+playing cards, when I would play with him.  The agreement as to the
+sharing of the profits was drawn up, it is true, by me, but at that
+time he made no word of complaint.  I had no relations, he described
+himself as cut off wholly from his.  It was here Francis first came
+on the scene.  He found your father half drunk, and when he read
+the agreement it was plain what he thought.  He thought that I was
+letting your father kill himself that the whole thing might be mine.
+He has probably told you so.  I deny it.  I did all I could to keep
+him sober!
+
+"On our homeward way your father was ill and our bearers deserted
+us.  We were pursued by the natives, who repented their concession,
+and I had to fight them more than once, half a dozen strong, with
+your father unconscious at my feet.  It is true that I left him in
+the bush, but it was at his bidding and I believed him dying.  It
+was my only chance and I took it.  I escaped and reached Attra.
+Then, to raise money to reach England, I had to borrow from a man
+named Da Souza, and afterwards, in London, to start the Company, I
+had to make him my partner in the profits of the concession.  One
+day I quarrelled with him - it was just at the time I met you - and
+then, for the first time, I heard of your father's being alive.  I
+went out to Africa to bring him back and Da Souza followed me in
+abject fear, for as my partner he lost half if your father's claim
+was good.  I found your father infirm and only half sane.  I did
+all I could for him whilst I worked in the interior, and meant to
+bring him back to England with me when I came.  unfortunately he
+recovered a little and suddenly seized upon the idea of visiting
+England.  He left before me and fell into the hands of Da Souza,
+who had the best possible reasons in the world for keeping him in
+the background.  I rescued him from them in time to save him from
+death and brought him to my own house, sent for doctors and nurses,
+and, when he was fit for you to see, I should have sent for you.
+I did not, I'll admit, make any public declaration of his existence,
+for the simple reason that it would have crippled our Company, and
+there are the interests of the shareholders to be considered, but
+I executed and signed a deed of partnership days ago which makes
+him an equal sharer in every penny I possess.  Now this is the
+truth, Miss Wendermott, and if it is not a story I am particularly
+proud of, I don't very well see what else I could have done.  It
+is my story and it is a true one.  Will you believe it or will you
+take his word against mine?"
+
+She would have spoken, but Francis held up his hand.
+
+"My story," he said coolly, "has been told behind your back.  It is
+only fair to repeat it to your face.  I have told Miss Wendermott
+this - that I met you first in the village of Bekwando with a
+concession in your hand made out to you and her father jointly,
+with the curious proviso that in the event of the death of one
+the other was his heir.  I pointed out to Miss Wendermott that you
+were in the prime of life and in magnificent condition, while her
+father was already on the threshold of the grave and drinking
+himself into a fever in a squalid hut in a village of swamps.  I
+told her that I suspected foul play, that I followed you both and
+found her father left to the tender mercies of the savages,
+deserted by you in the bush.  I told her that many months afterwards
+he disappeared, simultaneously with your arrival in the country,
+that a day or two ago you swore to me you had no idea where he was.
+That has been my story, Trent, let Miss Wendermott choose between
+them."
+
+"I am content," Trent cried fiercely.  "Your story is true enough,
+but it is cunningly linked together.  You have done your worst.
+Choose!"
+
+For ever afterwards he was glad of that single look of reproach
+which seemed to escape her unwittingly as her eyes met his.  But
+she turned away and his heart was like a stone.
+
+"You have deceived me, Mr. Trent.  I am very sorry, and very
+disappointed."
+
+"And you," he cried passionately, "are you yourself so blameless?
+Were you altogether deceived by your relations, or had you never a
+suspicion that your father might still be alive?  You had my message
+through Mr. Cuthbert; I met you day by day after you knew that I
+had been your father's partner, and never once did you give yourself
+away!  Were you tarred with the same brush as those canting snobs
+who doomed a poor old man to a living death?  Doesn't it look like
+it?  What am I to think of you?"
+
+"Your judgment, Mr. Trent," she answered quietly, "is of no
+importance to me!  It does not interest me in any way.  But I will
+tell you this.  If I did not disclose myself, it was because I
+distrusted you.  I wanted to know the truth, and I set myself to
+find it out."
+
+"Your friendship was a lie, then!" he cried, with flashing eyes.
+"To you I was nothing but a suspected man to be spied upon and
+betrayed."
+
+She faltered and did not answer him.  Outside the nurse was knocking
+at the door.  Trent waved them away with an imperious gesture.
+
+"Be off," he cried, "both of you!  You can do your worst!  I thank
+Heaven that I am not of your class, whose men have flints for
+hearts and whose women can lie like angels."
+
+They left him alone, and Trent, with a groan, plucked from his heart
+the one strong, sweet hope which had changed his life so wonderfully.
+Upstairs, Monty was sobbing, with his little girl's arms about him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+
+With the darkness had come a wind from the sea, and the boy crept
+outside in his flannels and planter's hat and threw himself down in
+a cane chair with a little murmur of relief.  Below him burned the
+white lights of the town, a little noisier than usual to-night, for
+out in the bay a steamer was lying-to, and there had been a few
+passengers and cargo to land.  The boy had had a hard day's work,
+or he would have been in the town himself to watch for arrivals and
+wait for the mail.  He closed his eyes, half asleep, for the sun
+had been hot and the murmurs of the sea below was almost like a
+lullaby.  As he lay there a man's voice from the path reached him.
+He sprang up, listening intently.  It must have been fancy - and
+yet!  He leaned over the wooden balcony.  The figure of a man
+loomed out through the darkness, came nearer, became distinct.  Fred
+recognised him with a glad shout.
+
+"Trent!" he cried.  "Scarlett Trent, by all that's amazing!"
+
+Trent held out his hand quickly.  Somehow the glad young voice,
+quivering with excitement, touched his heart in an unexpected and
+unusual manner.  It was pleasant to be welcomed like this - to feel
+that one person in the world at least was glad of his coming.  For
+Trent was a sorely stricken man and the flavour of life had gone
+from him.  Many a time he had looked over the steamer's side during
+that long, lonely voyage and gazed almost wishfully into the sea,
+in whose embrace was rest.  It seemed to him that he had been a
+gambler playing for great stakes, and the turn of the wheel had
+gone against him.
+
+"Fred!"
+
+They stood with hands locked together, the boy breathless with
+surprise.  Then he saw that something was wrong.
+
+"What is it, Trent?" he asked quickly.  "Have we gone smash after
+all, or have you been ill?"
+
+Trent shook his head and smiled gravely.
+
+"Neither," he said.  "The Company is booming, I believe.  Civilised
+ways didn't agree with me, I'm afraid.  That's all!  I've come back
+to have a month or two's hard work - the best physic in the world."
+
+"I am delighted to see you," Fred said heartily.  "Everything's going
+A1 here, and they've built me this little bungalow, only got in it
+last week - stunning, isn't it?  But - just fancy your being here
+again so soon!  Are your traps coming up?"
+
+"I haven't many," Trent answered.  "They're on the way.  Have you
+got room for me?"
+
+"Room for you!" the boy repeated scornfully.  "Why, I'm all alone
+here.  It's the only thing against the place, being a bit lonely.
+Room for you!  I should think there is!  Here, Dick!  Dinner at
+once, and some wine!"
+
+Trent was taken to see his room, the boy talking all the time, and
+later on dinner was served and the boy did the honours, chaffing
+and talking lightly.  But later on when they sat outside, smoking
+furiously to keep off the mosquitoes and watching the fireflies dart
+in and out amongst the trees, the boy was silent.  Then he leaned
+over and laid his hand on Trent's arm.
+
+"Tell me all about it - do," he begged.
+
+Trent was startled, touched, and suddenly filled with a desire for
+sympathy such as he had never before in his life experienced.  He
+hesitated, but it was only for a moment.
+
+"I never thought to tell any one," he said slowly, "I think I'd
+like to!"
+
+And he did.  He told his whole story.  He did not spare himself.
+He spoke of the days of his earlier partnership with Monty, and he
+admitted the apparent brutality of his treatment of him on more
+than one occasion.  He spoke of Ernestine too - of his strange fancy
+for the photograph of Monty's little girl, a fancy which later on
+when he met her became almost immediately the dominant passion of
+his life.  Then he spoke of the coming of Francis, of the awakening
+of Ernestine's suspicions, and of that desperate moment when he
+risked everything on her faith in him - and lost.  There was little
+else to tell and afterwards there was a silence.  But presently the
+boy's hand fell upon his arm almost caressingly and he leaned over
+through the darkness.
+
+"Women are such idiots," the boy declared, with all the vigour and
+certainty of long experience.  "If only Aunt Ernestine had known
+you half as well as I do, she would have been quite content to have
+trusted you and to have believed that what you did was for the best.
+But I say, Trent, you ought to have waited for it.  After she had
+seen her father and talked with him she must have understood you
+better.  I shall write to her."
+
+But Trent shook his head.
+
+"No," he said sternly, "it is too late now.  That moment taught me
+all I wanted to know.  It was her love I wanted, Fred, and - that
+ - no use hoping for that, or she would have trusted me.  After all
+I was half a madman ever to have expected it - a rough, coarse chap
+like me, with only a smattering of polite ways!  It was madness!
+Some day I shall get over it!  We'll chuck work for a bit, soon,
+Fred, and go for some lions.  That'll give us something to think
+about at any rate."
+
+
+
+But the lions which Trent might have shot lived in peace, for on
+the morrow he was restless and ill, and within a week the deadly
+fever of the place had him in its clutches.  The boy nursed him
+and the German doctor came up from Attra and, when he learnt who
+his patient was, took up his quarters in the place.  But for all
+his care and the boy's nursing things went badly with Scarlett
+Trent.
+
+To him ended for a while all measure of days - time became one long
+night, full of strange, tormenting flashes of thought, passing like
+red fire before his burning eyes.  Sometimes it was Monty crying to
+him from the bush, sometimes the yelling of those savages at Bekwando
+seemed to fill the air, sometimes Ernestine was there, listening to
+his passionate pleading with cold, set face, In the dead of night he
+saw her and the still silence was broken by his hoarse, passionate
+cries, which they strove in vain to check.  And when at last he lay
+white and still with exhaustion, the doctor looked at the boy and
+softly shook his head.  He had very little hope.
+
+Trent grew worse.  In those rare flashes of semi-consciousness which
+sometimes come to the fever-stricken, he reckoned himself a dying
+man and contemplated the end of all things without enthusiasm and
+without regret.  The one and only failure of his life had eaten like
+canker into his heart.  It was death he craved for in the hot,
+burning nights, and death came and sat, a grisly shadow, at his
+pillow.  The doctor and the boy did their best, but it was not they
+who saved him.
+
+There came a night when he raved, and the sound of a woman's name
+rang out from the open windows of the little bungalow, rang out
+through the drawn mosquito netting amongst the palm-trees, across
+the surf-topped sea to the great steamer which lay in the bay.
+Perhaps she heard it - perhaps after all it was a fancy.  Only, in
+the midst of his fever, a hand as soft as velvet and as cool as the
+night sea-wind touched his forehead, and a voice sounded in his ears
+so sweetly that the blood burned no longer in his veins, so sweetly
+that he lay back upon his pillow like a man under the influence of
+a strong narcotic and slept.  Then the doctor smiled and the boy
+sobbed.
+
+"I came," she said softly, "because it was the only atonement I
+could make.  I ought to have trusted you.  Do you know, even my
+father told me that."
+
+"I have made mistakes," he said, "and of course behaved badly to
+him."
+
+"Now that everything has been explained," she said, "I scarcely see
+what else you could have done.  At least you saved him from Da Souza
+when his death would have made you a freer man.  He is looking
+forward to seeing you, you must make haste and get strong."
+
+"For his sake," he murmured.
+
+She leaned over and caressed him lightly.  "For mine, dear."
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of A Millionaire of Yesterday
+
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