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Phillips Oppenheim + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +Project Gutenberg's A Millionaire of Yesterday, by E. Phillips Oppenheim + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Millionaire of Yesterday + +Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim + + +Release Date: August, 1999 [EBook #1878] +Last Updated: March 9, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By E. Phillips Oppenheim + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER XXXIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER XL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0041"> CHAPTER XLI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0042"> CHAPTER XLII </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Dusky complexion!” Trent interrupted scornfully, “they're coal black!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Well, go ahead, Monty,” he said. “Let's hear what you're driving at. What + a gab you've got to be sure!” + </p> + <p> + Monty waved his hand—a magnificent and silencing gesture. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I think, if you will allow me, Trent, I will just moisten my lips—no + more—with some of that excellent brandy.” + </p> + <p> + Trent caught his arm and held it firmly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Live!” Monty straightened himself out. A tremor went through all his + frame. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What news, Oom Sam?” he asked. “Has the English officer been heard of? He + must be close up now.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that be blowed!” Trent muttered. “What's this in the pot? It don't + smell bad.” + </p> + <p> + “Rabbit,” the interpreter answered tersely. “Very good. Part King's own + supper. White men very favoured.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Very big bones for a rabbit, Sam,” he remarked doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + Sam looked away. “Very big rabbits round here,” he remarked. “Best keep + pot. Send men away.” + </p> + <p> + Trent nodded, and the men withdrew. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “If the worst comes we shall never get away quickly,” he muttered. “That + old carcase can scarcely drag himself along.” + </p> + <p> + Sam looked at him with cunning eyes. + </p> + <p> + “He not fit only die,” he said softly. “He very old, very sick man, you + leave him here! I see to him.” + </p> + <p> + Trent turned away in sick disgust. + </p> + <p> + “We'll be off to-morrow, Sam,” he said shortly. “I say! I'm beastly + hungry. What's in that pot?” + </p> + <p> + Sam spread out the palms of his hands. + </p> + <p> + “He all right, I see him cooked,” he declared. “He two rabbits and one + monkey.” + </p> + <p> + Trent took out a plate and helped himself. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he said. “Be off now. We'll go to-morrow before these + towsly-headed beauties are awake.” + </p> + <p> + Sam nodded and waddled off. Trent threw a biscuit and hit his companion on + the cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Here, wake up, Monty!” he exclaimed. “Supper's come from the royal + kitchen. Bring your plate and tuck in!” + </p> + <p> + Monty struggled to his feet and came meekly towards where the pot stood + simmering upon the ground. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “No, I won't,” Trent interrupted. “Now shut up all that rot and eat + something.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no appetite, thank you,” Monty answered, with sulky dignity. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You infernal young blackguard! You impertinent meddling blockhead! How + dare you presume to look at that photograph! How dare you, sir! How dare + you!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I only looked at it,” he muttered. “It was lying on the floor.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Trent laughed sullenly, and, having finished eating, lit his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Trent,” he said, “this is slow! Let us have a friendly game—you and + I.” + </p> + <p> + Trent yawned. + </p> + <p> + “Come on, then,” he said. “Single Poker or Euchre, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not mind,” Monty replied affably. “Just which you prefer.” + </p> + <p> + “Single Poker, then,” Trent said. + </p> + <p> + “And the stakes?” + </p> + <p> + “We've nothing left to play for,” Trent answered gloomily, “except + cartridges.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I have it,” he declared. “The very thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Well!” + </p> + <p> + “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 O 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What!” he cried. “You don't agree! Did you understand me? Fifty pounds, + Trent! Why, you must be mad!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shut up!” Trent growled. “I don't want your money, and the brandy's + poison to you! Go to sleep!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You agree?” Monty shrieked. Trent nodded and dealt the cards. + </p> + <p> + “It must be a show after the draw,” he said. “We can't bet, for we've + nothing to raise the stakes with!” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Mine!” he said. “I kept an ace and drew another. Give me the brandy!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The veins on the old man's forehead stood out like whipcord. + </p> + <p> + “I won it,” he cried. “Give it me! Give it me, I say.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” Trent answered gruffly “Don't know that I want to either.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you go to bed?” Trent said. “You'll need all your strength + to-morrow!” + </p> + <p> + Monty waved his hand with serene contempt. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Monty frowned and looked stealthily across towards the bottle. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + Trent looked at him half scornfully, half deprecatingly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Trent was on the point of an angry negative. Suddenly he stopped—hesitated—and + said nothing. Monty's face lit up with sudden hope. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I will stake that brandy,” Trent answered, “against the picture you let + fall from your pocket an hour ago.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Her picture! My little girl's picture! Trent, you're joking, you're mad!” + </p> + <p> + “Am I?” Trent answered nonchalantly. “Perhaps so! Anyhow those are my + terms! You can play or not as you like! I don't care.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Trent,” he whimpered. But Trent did not answer him. + </p> + <p> + “Trent, you needn't have been so beastly rough. My arm is black and blue + and I am sore all over.” + </p> + <p> + But Trent remained silent. Monty crept a little nearer. He was beginning + to feel a very injured person. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Granted,” Trent said tersely, bending over his game. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “You'd be a blackguard if you did,” Trent answered curtly. + </p> + <p> + Monty's face brightened. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “You seem very anxious for a game,” Trent remarked. “Listen, I will play + you for any amount you like, my I O U against your I O U. Are you + agreeable?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “As regards that,” Trent answered shortly, “I've named the stake; I'll not + consider any other.” + </p> + <p> + Monty's face once more grew black with anger. + </p> + <p> + “You are a beast, Trent—a bully!” he exclaimed passionately; “I'll + not part with it!” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you won't,” Trent answered. “I've told you what I should think of + you if you did.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure to win—Trent is always unlucky at cards—such a + little risk, and the brandy—ah!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Such a very small risk,” Monty whispered softly to himself. “I need the + brandy too. I cannot sleep without it! Trent!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Trent! Do you hear, Trent?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Deal the cards,” he muttered simply, and sat down. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + But Monty swore a very profane and a very ugly oath. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Your deal,” he said laconically. “Same as before I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Three's,” he cried in fierce triumph, “three of a kind—nines!” + </p> + <p> + Trent laid his own cards calmly down. + </p> + <p> + “A full hand,” he said, “kings up.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Monty rose to his feet and balanced himself against the post. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind—about the brandy,” he faltered. “Give me back the + photograph.” + </p> + <p> + Trent shrugged his shoulders. “Why?” he asked coolly. “Full hand beats + three, don't it? It was my win and my stake.” + </p> + <p> + “Then—then take that!” But the blow never touched Trent. He thrust + out his hand and held his assailant away at arm's length. + </p> + <p> + Monty burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I was mad,” Monty moaned. “She was my own little daughter, God help her!” + </p> + <p> + “I never heard you speak of her before,” Trent remarked. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + Trent moved forward and greeted the newcomer awkwardly. “You're Captain + Francis,” he said. “We've been waiting for you.” + </p> + <p> + The statement appeared to annoy the Explorer. He looked nervously at the + two men and about the hut. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Trent assented, waving his hand towards his companion in introductory + fashion. + </p> + <p> + “That's my pal, Monty,” he said. “We're both English right enough.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with him?” he asked Trent. + </p> + <p> + “Drink!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Trent laughed shortly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He glanced disdainfully at the smooth face and careful dress of their + visitor, who bore the inspection with a kindly return of contempt. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Trent nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Never heard any other name,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever heard him speak of England?” Francis asked. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Never. He don't talk.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Francis moved a step towards the huddled-up figure breathing + heavily upon the floor, but Trent, leaning over, stopped him. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Two hundred,” Captain Francis answered shortly. + </p> + <p> + Trent whistled. + </p> + <p> + “We're all right for a bit, then,” he said; “but it's a pretty sort of a + picnic you're on, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind my business,” Captain Francis answered curtly; “what about + yours? Why have you been hanging about here for me?” + </p> + <p> + “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 + coming; let's get him to witness it, and then if the King don't go on the + square, why, it's a Government matter.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Francis lit a cigarette and smoked thoughtfully for a moment or + two. + </p> + <p> + “I don't quite see,” he said, “why we should risk a row for the sake of + you two.” + </p> + <p> + Trent snorted. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Ugh!” he muttered; “beastly!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “In the interests of civilisation,” Captain Francis answered, with a + smile, “I think not.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “If you go before we've finished,” Trent said, “I'll not pay you a penny. + Please yourself.” + </p> + <p> + The little fat man trembled—partly with rage, partly with fear. + </p> + <p> + “You stay any longer,” he said, “and King him send after you and kill on + way home. White English soldiers go Buckomari with you?” + </p> + <p> + Trent shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Going the other way,” he said, “down to Wana Hill.” + </p> + <p> + Oom Sam shook his head vigorously. + </p> + <p> + “Now you mind,” he said; “I tell you, King send after you. Him blind mad.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + Trent set his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll get an escort,” Francis said. “Best to impress 'em a bit, I think. + Half a minute.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “It's like him,” he said to himself softly; “but after all the thing's too + improbable!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What they want?” the King asked. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Him white man just come,” Oom Sam explained; “want see you do this.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “That all right?” he asked Oom Sam. + </p> + <p> + Oom Sam bowed to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Him want to know,” he said, jerking his head towards Captain Francis, + “whether you know what means?” + </p> + <p> + His forefinger wandered aimlessly down the document. His Majesty's reply + was prompt and cheerful. + </p> + <p> + “Three barrels of rum a year.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + The King was interested. “Where?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Oom Sam pointed westward through the bush. + </p> + <p> + “Down by creek-side.” + </p> + <p> + The King was thoughtful “Rum come all right?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Oom Sam pointed to the papers. + </p> + <p> + “Say so there,” he declared. “All quite plain.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “King him quite satisfied,” he declared. “Him all explained before—he + agree.” + </p> + <p> + The King suddenly woke up again. He clutched Sam by the arm, and whispered + in his ear. This time it was Sam who grinned. + </p> + <p> + “King, him say him signed paper twice,” he explained. “Him want four + barrels of rum now.” + </p> + <p> + Trent laughed harshly. + </p> + <p> + “He shall swim in it, Sam,” he said; “he shall float down to hell upon + it.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” he said gently, “that we have met before.” + </p> + <p> + “A mistake,” Monty declared. “Never saw you in my life. Just off to + sleep.” + </p> + <p> + But Francis had seen the trembling of the man's lips, and his nervously + shaking hands. + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing to fear,” he said; “I wanted to speak to you as a + friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't know you; don't want to speak to you,” Monty declared. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Monty sat up, white, despairing, with strained, set face and bloodshot + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Francis shrugged his shoulders, and turned away with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What then?” Trent asked fiercely. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Anything else?” Trent asked roughly. + </p> + <p> + The officer looked his man up and down. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Prop me up against this tree, Trent—and listen,” Monty whispered. + “Don't fritter away the little strength you have left.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + But Monty, in whose veins was the chill of death and who sought only for + rest, shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—” + </p> + <p> + “The picture—just for a moment. I'd like to have one look at her!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you'd best have it,” he said sullenly at last. + </p> + <p> + But Monty shook his head feebly and held out the picture. + </p> + <p> + Trent took it with an odd sense of shame which puzzled him. He was not + often subject to anything of the sort. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “It's about that clause in our agreement. I never thought it was quite + fair, you know, Trent!” + </p> + <p> + “Which clause?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “What's it matter to you now?” Trent said, with unintentional brutality. + “You can't take it with you.” + </p> + <p> + Monty raised himself a little. His eyes, lit with feverish fire, were + fastened upon the other man. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Trent held out his hands for the letter. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he said, with sullen ungraciousness. “I'll promise something. + I won't say how much! We'll see.” + </p> + <p> + “Trent, you'll keep your word,” Monty begged. “I'd like her to know that I + thought of her.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + They found him an hour or two later unconscious, but alive, on the + outskirts of the village. + </p> + <p> + Three days later two men were seated face to face in a long wooden house, + the largest and most important in Buckomari village. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + It was Da Souza who did most of the talking. Trent indeed had the + appearance of a man only indirectly interested in the proceedings. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Then why,” Da Souza asked, looking up with twinkling eyes, “do you want + to sell me a share in it?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza threw himself back in his chair with uplifted hands. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + The amazement, half sorrowful, half reproachful, on the man's face was + perfectly done. But Trent only snorted. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Sixth share,” the Jew screamed, “sixth share?” + </p> + <p> + Trent nodded. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza took up the document and glanced it through once more. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Trent set his teeth hard, and he never blenched. + </p> + <p> + “He was my partner, but he died in the swamps, poor chap. We had horrible + weather coming back. It pretty near finished me.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “But your partner's share,” the Jew asked. “What of that?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + The Jew nodded. + </p> + <p> + “And your partner?” he said. “You saw him die! There is no doubt about + that?” + </p> + <p> + Trent nodded. + </p> + <p> + “He is as dead,” he said, “as Julius Caesar.” + </p> + <p> + “If I offered you—” Da Souza began. + </p> + <p> + “If you offered me four thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine pounds,” + Trent interrupted roughly, “I would tell you to go to glory.” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza sighed. It was a hard man to deal with—this. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “You're right, mate,” Trent assented. “Plank down the brass, and it's a + deal.” + </p> + <p> + “I will give you four thousand pounds for a quarter share,” Da Souza said. + </p> + <p> + Trent knocked the ashes from his pipe and stood up. + </p> + <p> + “Here, don't waste any more of my time,” he said. “Stand out of the way, + I'm off.” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza kept his hands upon the concession. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Give me the concession,” Trent said. “I'm off.” + </p> + <p> + “For a fifth,” Da Souza cried. + </p> + <p> + Trent moved to the door without speech. Da Souza groaned. + </p> + <p> + “You will ruin me,” he said, “I know it. Come then, five thousand for a + sixth share. It is throwing money away.” + </p> + <p> + “If you think so, you'd better not part,” Trent said, still lingering in + the doorway. “Just as you say. I don't care.” + </p> + <p> + For a full minute Da 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. + </p> + <p> + “Come back, Mr. Trent,” he called out. “I have decided. I accept. I join + with you.” + </p> + <p> + Trent slowly returned. His manner showed no exultation. + </p> + <p> + “You have the money here?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Have a drink?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Da Souza shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “There is a good deal,” Da Souza said, “which we must now talk about.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Is there anything more for me to do, sir?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing more,” he said. “You can go.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Scarlett Trent faced him coldly. “What do you know about it?” he asked. + “What concern is it of yours, young man, eh?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + His employer grunted in an ominous manner. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I am very sure that you do, sir,” the clerk answered humbly. “I quite see + that my allusion was an error.” + </p> + <p> + Scarlett Trent had turned round in his chair, and was eying the pale, + nervous figure with a certain hard disapproval. + </p> + <p> + “That's a beastly coat you've got on, Dickenson,” he said. “Why don't you + get a new one?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + His employer grunted again. + </p> + <p> + “What's your salary?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Two pounds fifteen shillings a week, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + The young man was able at last to find some spark of dignity. A pink spot + burned upon his cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken, sir,” he said. “I am quite happy and quite satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + Scarlett Trent laughed scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “Then you don't look it,” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I am much obliged to you, sir,” he said humbly, “but you have made a + mistake. This note is for fifty pounds.” + </p> + <p> + Trent glanced at it and held out his hand. Then he paused. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You—you mean it, sir?” he gasped. “I—I'm afraid I can't thank + you!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “You will allow me, sir—” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 humoured 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She tossed her head. + </p> + <p> + “What a beastly temper you're in!” she remarked. “I'm not particular about + driving. Do you want to walk alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly!” he answered. “I do!” + </p> + <p> + She leaned back in the carriage with heightened colour. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's one thing about me,” she said acidly. “I never go where I + ain't wanted.” + </p> + <p> + Trent shrugged his shoulders and turned to the coachman. + </p> + <p> + “Drive home, Gregg,” he said. “I'm walking.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo!” he remarked, “another guest! and who brought you down, young + lady, eh?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, miss,” he said confusedly, “my mistake! You see, your + back was turned to me.” + </p> + <p> + She nodded and smiled graciously. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing terrible, I should say. Looks as though you've been making a + picture of my house; I don't mind that.” + </p> + <p> + She dived in her pocket and produced a card-case. + </p> + <p> + “I'll make full confession,” she said frankly. “I'm a journalist.” + </p> + <p> + “A what!” he repeated feebly. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” he answered emphatically. “I didn't know that ladies did such + things!” + </p> + <p> + She laughed gaily but softly; and Trent understood then what was meant by + the music of a woman's voice. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's not at all an uncommon thing,” she answered him. “You won't mind + my interviewing you, will you?” + </p> + <p> + “Doing what?” he asked blankly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + She took his silence for hesitation, and continued a little anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He found his tongue awkwardly, but vigorously. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “How nice of you! And the interview?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell you whatever you want to know,” he said quietly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Just as you like,” he answered. “May I look at it?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” she answered, holding out the block; “but it isn't half + finished yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Will it take long?” + </p> + <p> + “About an hour, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very clever,” he said, with a little sigh. + </p> + <p> + She laughed outright. + </p> + <p> + “People are calling you the cleverest man in London to-day,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! It isn't the cleverness that counts for anything that makes + money.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I'm very sorry,” he muttered. “I'll stop that right away.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “They're not my friends,” he exclaimed passionately “I'll clear them out + neck and crop.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Ask it by all means,” she said. “I'll promise that I'll answer it if I + can.” + </p> + <p> + “You say that you are—a journalist. Have you taken it up for a + pastime, or—to earn money?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know,” he answered slowly. “Thank you. You will come to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course! Good evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Good evening.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + 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 them 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. + </p> + <p> + “Where are the lost tribe?” he inquired, as the girls, one on either side, + escorted him to the house. + </p> + <p> + They received his witticism with a piercing shriek of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Trent laughed heartily. The situation began to appeal to him. There was + humour in it which he alone could appreciate. + </p> + <p> + “Does he expect me to send you away?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + The young lady with yellow hair confirmed the statement with much dignity. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Montressor, who had stopped to pick a flower, rejoined them. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I promise,” said Trent, “that when she goes you go, and not before. Is + that sufficient?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “An eighth easier,” Trent answered, ascending the stairs. + </p> + <p> + Da Souza fidgeted about with the banisters, and finally followed him. + </p> + <p> + “There was just a word,” he remarked, “a little word I wanted with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Come and talk while I wash,” Trent said shortly. “Dinner's on, and I'm + hungry.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, certainly,” Da Souza murmured, closing the door behind them as + they entered the lavatory. “It is concerning these young ladies.” + </p> + <p> + “What! Miss Montressor and her friend?” Trent remarked thrusting his head + into the cold water. “Phew!” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly! Two very charming young ladies, my dear friend, very charming + indeed, but a little—don't you fancy just a little fast!” + </p> + <p> + “Hadn't noticed it,” Trent answered, drying himself. “What about it?” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza tugged at his little black imperial, and moved uneasily about. + </p> + <p> + “We—er—men of the world, my dear Trent, we need not be so + particular, eh?—but the ladies—the ladies are so observant.” + </p> + <p> + “What ladies?” Trent asked coolly. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “You want them to go? Is that it?” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza spread out his hands—an old trick, only now the palms were + white and the diamonds real. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I understand, Da Souza,” he said. “No doubt you are right, you + cannot be too careful. You do well to be particular.” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza winced. He was about to speak, but Trent interrupted him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll tell you this, and you can let the missis know, my fond + father. They leave to-morrow. Is that good enough?” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza caught at his host's hand, but Trent snatched it away. + </p> + <p> + “My dear—my noble—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “It was very hot in the City to-day,” Mrs. Da Souza remarked to her host. + “Dear Julie 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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Montressor raised her glass and winked at her host. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Da Souza, look after Miss Flossie,” Trent said. “Why don't you fill her + glass? That's right!” + </p> + <p> + “Hiram!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Bewilderment reigned. No one offered to drink the toast. It was Miss + Montressor who asked the question which was on every one's lips. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Trent looked at them all in well-simulated amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Lord!” he exclaimed, “you don't know—none of you! I thought Da + Souza would have told you the news!” + </p> + <p> + “What news?” Da Souza cried, his beady eyes protuberant, and his glass + arrested half-way to his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “What are you talking about, my friend?” + </p> + <p> + Trent set down his glass. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza leaned across the table. His face was livid, and the corners of + his eyes were bloodshot. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “God! what a beast I am!” he muttered. “It was there she sat! I'm not fit + to breathe the same air.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He passed his arm around her tiny waist. She looked at him with frightened + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Please let me go,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Whose carriage is that in the drive?” he asked. “It is a fly for Mr. Da + Souza, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “What! has he gone?” Trent exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, he and Mrs. Da Souza and the young lady.” + </p> + <p> + “And Miss Montressor and her friend?” + </p> + <p> + “They shared the fly, sir. The luggage all went down in one of the carts.” + </p> + <p> + Trent laughed outright, half scornfully, half in amusement. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, sir.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza entered presently, apologetic and abject, prepared at the same + time to extenuate and deny. Trent continued his breakfast coolly. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Trent helped himself to coffee, and leaned back in his chair, stirring it + thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not in earnest! You do not mean it!” + </p> + <p> + “I can assure you,” Trent replied grinning, “that I do!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I speak,” he said, “for my wife, my daughter, and myself, and I assure + you that we decline to go!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “This is no play at all,” Da Souza remarked, with a sneer. “I ask you to + remember, my friend, our first meeting.” + </p> + <p> + Trent nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Never likely to forget it,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I am speaking out,” Da Souza answered. “It is an ugly thing I have to + say, but you must control yourself.” + </p> + <p> + The little black eyes were like the eyes of a snake. He was showing his + teeth. He forgot to be afraid. + </p> + <p> + “You had a partner,” he said. “The concession was made out to him together + with yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “He died,” Trent answered shortly. “I took over the lot by arrangement.” + </p> + <p> + “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.'” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Anything else?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “You had a partner whom you deserted.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You're talking like a fool, Da Souza. Do you mean to take me in with an + old woman's story like that?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Supposing that this were true,” he said, “what is he doing all this time? + Why does he not come and claim his share?” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza hesitated. He would have liked to have invented another reason, + but it was not safe. The truth was best. + </p> + <p> + “He is half-witted and has lost his memory. He is working now at one of + the Basle mission-places near Attra.” + </p> + <p> + “And why have you not told me this before?” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza shrugged his shoulders. “It was not necessary,” he said. “Our + interests were the same, it was better for you not to know.” + </p> + <p> + “He remembers nothing, then?” + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + “I shall send for him,” Trent said slowly. “He shall have his share!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Trent winced perceptibly. Da Souza saw it and rejoiced. There was another + awkward silence. Trent lit a cigar and puffed furiously at it. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew,” Da Souza murmured, “that my friend would be reasonable.” + </p> + <p> + “And the young ladies?” + </p> + <p> + “Send them to—” + </p> + <p> + “I will send them back to where they came from,” Da Souza interrupted + blandly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I should say so,” agreed the young lady, who rather affected + Americanisms. + </p> + <p> + Da Souza stroked his little imperial, and winked solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “You are young ladies of spirit,” he declared. “Now—” + </p> + <p> + “Hiram!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Same here,” echoed Miss Montressor, heartily. “We ain't used to associate + with such as him!” + </p> + <p> + “Hiram!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Here we are, my friend,” he remarked. “The ladies are anxious to wish you + good morning.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Da Souza sat down heavily and rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + “He was a little cool,” she remarked, “but that was to be expected. Did + you observe the notice he took of Julie? Dear child!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “My Julie,” she exclaimed, “my dear child! You see, Hiram, she is faint! + She is overcome!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Silly Julie,” she murmured, “what is there that is horrible, little one?” + </p> + <p> + The dark eyes blazed with scorn, the delicately curved lips shook. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Julie's tears crept through the fingers closely pressed over her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Shall you have trouble with her, my dear?” he asked his wife anxiously. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go now—this instant,” she answered, rising. “But, Hiram, + there is one thing I would much like to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Ugh! You women! You are always like that! There is so much that you want + to know!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “The man, he is in my power,” Da Souza says in a ponderous and stealthy + whisper. “I know something.” + </p> + <p> + She rose and imprinted a solemn kiss upon his forehead. There was + something sacramental about the deliberate caress. + </p> + <p> + “Hiram,” she said, “you are a wonderful man!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You sent for me, Trent,” the latter remarked timidly. “I am quite ready + to answer any more questions.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Really, Trent—I—” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + The Jew shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Hand it over.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “BEKWANDO. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “MONTY.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Shut the door,” Trent said shortly. + </p> + <p> + Da Souza obeyed with unabashed amiability. Trent watched him with + something like disgust. Da Souza returning caught the look, and felt + compelled to protest. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza did hear it, and the worm turned. He sat down in the most + comfortable easy-chair, and addressed Trent directly. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, miss,” he stammered; “I'm afraid I startled you!” + </p> + <p> + She winced a little at his address, but otherwise her manner was not + ungracious. + </p> + <p> + “You did a little,” she admitted. “Do you usually stride out of your + windows like that, bareheaded and muttering to yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “I was in a beastly temper,” he admitted. “If I had known who was outside—it + would have been different.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + She shuddered. + </p> + <p> + “But you both escaped?” she said. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She inclined her head sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + “Was he an Englishman?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + He faced the question just as he had faced death years before leering at + him, a few feet from the muzzle of his revolver. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “It was very sad indeed,” she said. “If he had lived, he would have shared + with you, I suppose, in the concession?” + </p> + <p> + Trent nodded. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + She was unaffectedly surprised. What a speech for a millionaire of + yesterday! + </p> + <p> + “I thought,” she said, “that for those who took part in it, it possessed a + fascination stronger than anything else in the world.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He kicked a fir cone savagely away. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you no friends?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I have never,” he answered, “had a friend in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “You have guests at any rate!” + </p> + <p> + “I sent 'em away last night!” + </p> + <p> + “What, the young lady in blue?” she asked demurely. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and the other one too. Packed them clean off, and they're not coming + back either!” + </p> + <p> + “I am very pleased to hear it,” she remarked. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “May be,” he answered. “Yet I'd give a lot to be rid of them.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You have a beautiful view here,” she said. “You are fond of the country, + are you not?” + </p> + <p> + “Very,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her curiously. “I wonder,” he said, “if you have any idea how + my life has been spent.” + </p> + <p> + “You have given me,” she said, “a very fair idea about some part of it at + any rate.” + </p> + <p> + He drew a long breath and looked down at her. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head and smiled up at him. She was immensely interested. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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 know of these things was born + in his heart at that moment, never altogether to leave him. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want here, Da Souza?” he asked fiercely. + </p> + <p> + Da Souza held up the palms of his hands. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Trent kicked open the little iron gate which led into the garden beyond. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + The girl, who was making some notes in her book, continued her work + without the slightest appearance of having heard him. + </p> + <p> + Da Souza snorted, but at that moment he felt a grip like iron upon his + shoulder, and deemed retreat expedient. + </p> + <p> + “If you don't go without another word,” came a hot whisper in his ear, + “I'll throw you into the horse-pond.” + </p> + <p> + He went swiftly, ungracious, scowling. Trent returned to the girl. She + looked up at him and closed her book. + </p> + <p> + “You must change your friends,” she said gravely. “What a horrible man!” + </p> + <p> + “He is a beast,” Trent answered, “and go he shall. I would to Heaven that + I had never seen him.” + </p> + <p> + She rose, slipped her note-book into her pocket, and drew on her gloves. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You have not told me your name,” he reminded her. + </p> + <p> + She laughed lightly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He repeated it after her. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he said. “I am beginning to think of some more things which I + might have told you.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going,” he said abruptly, “to ask you something very strange and + very presumptuous!” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him in surprise, scarcely understanding what he could mean. + </p> + <p> + “May I come and see you some time?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he said simply, with a sigh of immense relief. + </p> + <p> + He walked with her to the gate, and they talked about rhododendrons. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “His little girl!” he murmured. “Monty's little girl!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Ernestine, by all that's delightful! I am in luck to-day!” + </p> + <p> + She smiled slightly and gave him her hand, but it was evident that this + meeting was not wholly agreeable to her. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You will allow me,” he said hopefully, “to walk a little way with you?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not able to prevent it—if you think it worth while,” she + answered. + </p> + <p> + He looked down—he was by her side now—in good-humoured + protest. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “For the present,” she answered, “it occupies the whole of my time, and + the whole of my thoughts.” + </p> + <p> + “To the utter exclusion, I suppose,” he remarked, “of me?” + </p> + <p> + She laughed gaily. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Cecil! when have I ever led you to suppose for a moment that I + have ever wasted any time thinking of you?” + </p> + <p> + He was determined not to be annoyed, and he ignored both the speech and + the laugh. + </p> + <p> + “May I inquire how you are getting on?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Is it?” he muttered doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “A man?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. “Of course!” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't fit work for you,” he exclaimed hastily. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “As who?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Cecil, what on earth is the matter with you?” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + He looked down at her with a new seriousness. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I have a good deal to say to you,” he answered gravely. “How long shall + you be at the office?” + </p> + <p> + “About an hour—perhaps longer.” + </p> + <p> + “I will wait for you!” + </p> + <p> + “I'd rather you didn't. I don't want them to think that I go trailing + about with an escort.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are trading upon my curiosity for the sake of a tea,” she laughed. + “Very well, about five o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Back, Miss Wendermott! Very good! What did you get?” + </p> + <p> + “Interview and sketch of the house,” she responded briskly. + </p> + <p> + “Interview by Jove! That's good! Was he very difficult?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Read the first few sentences of what you've got,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + Ernestine obeyed. To all appearance the man was engrossed in his own work, + but when she paused he nodded his head appreciatively. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <p> + “Ernestine,” he said gravely, “I am going to speak to you about your + father!” + </p> + <p> + She looked up at him in swift surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Is it necessary?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “You've been deceived! You were told always that your father had died in + prison. He didn't.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The girl's lips tightened, and she drew a little breath through her teeth. + Davenant hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” she cried. “And now!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He consented?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She stood up, her eyes blazing, her hands clenched together. + </p> + <p> + “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 I will never willingly speak to one of + them again. + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid you'd take it like that,” he remarked dolefully. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “It was a beastly mistake,” he admitted. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “You were only a child, Ernestine. It was twelve years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a little violent,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It was a great mistake,” he said, “but I believe they did it for the + best.” + </p> + <p> + She sat down with a little gesture of despair. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Because,” he answered, “you told me that you had just been to see + Scarlett Trent!” + </p> + <p> + “And what on earth had that to do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” she cried. “Tell me all that you know! this is wonderful!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the great Bekwando Land Company!” she cried. “It is the one Scarlett + Trent has just formed a syndicate to work.” + </p> + <p> + Davenant nodded. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are sure,” Ernestine said slowly, “that Scarlett Trent was his + partner?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And what news,” she asked, “have you had since?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Ernestine took it and read it out steadily. + </p> + <p> + “FORTNRENIG. + </p> + <p> + “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 Buckomari, 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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, + </p> + <p> + “I am, + </p> + <p> + “Yours most sincerely, + </p> + <p> + “Chas. ADDISON.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” Ernestine said, “I think I understand.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I can assure you—” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “You won't marry Julie, then?” Da Souza said gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + 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 hear 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I am Miss Wendermott,” she said, coming forward. “I had a letter from you + this morning; you wished to see me, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cuthbert dropped at once his eyeglass and his inquiring gaze, and held + out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “You mean to my father?” she asked quietly. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “The Earl,” he said, “was a very proud man—a very proud man.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I was against it,” he said sadly, “always.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I had heard,” Mr. Cuthbert said hesitatingly, “that you were following + some occupation. Something literary, is it not?” + </p> + <p> + “I am a journalist,” Ernestine answered promptly, “and I'm proud to say + that I am earning my own living.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Davenant has told you that your father was engaged in some enterprise + with this wonderful Mr. Scarlett Trent, when he died.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! He told me that!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He has been a long time thinking about it,” Ernestine remarked. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It is one reason,” he admitted, “but in any case I think that Mr. + Davenant had made up his mind that you should know.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Trent, I suppose, talks of this money as a present to me?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Ernestine drew herself up. Once more in her finely flashing eyes and + resolute air the lawyer was reminded of his old friend. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cuthbert dropped his eyeglass, and rose from his chair, startled. + </p> + <p> + “Blood-money! My dear young lady! Blood-money!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cuthbert sat down heavily in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear young lady,” he said, “you do not suspect Mr. Trent of—er—making + away with your father!' + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are talking of serious things, Miss Wendermott,” Mr. Cuthbert said + gravely. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “When you disclose yourself to Mr. Trent I should say that he would + willingly give you—” + </p> + <p> + She interrupted him, coming over and standing before him, leaning against + his table, and looking him in the face. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I understand, Miss Wendermott.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cuthbert shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her curiously. “What a colour you have, Ernestine!” he + remarked. “Have you been walking fast?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Ernestine,” he exclaimed, “are you taking stock of your good looks?” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely what I am doing,” she answered laughing. “At that moment I was + wondering whether I possessed any.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “You might be more flattering,” she said, “but you would be less + faithful.” + </p> + <p> + He remained standing upon the hearthrug. Ernestine returned to the mirror. + </p> + <p> + “May I know,” he asked, “for whose sake is this sudden anxiety about your + appearance?” + </p> + <p> + She turned away and sat in a low chair, her hands clasped behind her head, + her eyes fixed upon vacancy. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “If I were that man,” he remarked smiling, “I will answer for it that you + could.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He frowned heavily. “A boor,” he said. “What have you to do with him? The + less the better I should say.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand! If you believe that, surely you do not wish to see + the man—to have him come near you!” + </p> + <p> + “I want him punished!” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. “There is no proof. There never could be any proof!” + </p> + <p> + “There are many ways,” she said softly, “in which a man can be made to + suffer.” + </p> + <p> + “And you would set yourself to do this?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How long,” he asked, “will it last?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not like your way,” he said. “It is not like you, Ernestine.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + He rose to his feet—his fresh, rather boyish, face was wrinkled with + care. + </p> + <p> + “I shall live to be sorry, Ernestine,” he said, “that I ever told you the + truth about your father.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no reason,” she said, “why you should watch it; why do you not + go away for a time?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot,” he answered sadly, “and you know why.” + </p> + <p> + She was impatient, but she looked at him for a moment with a gleam of + sadness in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “It would be much better for you,” she said, “if you would make up your + mind to put that folly behind you.” + </p> + <p> + “It may be folly, but it is not the sort of folly one forgets.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” he said, “couldn't we have one of our old evenings again? + Listen—” + </p> + <p> + “I would rather not,” she interrupted softly. “If you will persist in + talking of a forbidden subject you must go away. Be reasonable, Cecil.” + </p> + <p> + He was silent for a moment. When he spoke again his tone was changed. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Of course.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The Gold Coast! How odd! Anywhere near—?” + </p> + <p> + “The offer came from the Bekwando Company!” + </p> + <p> + “Is he going?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + She was full of eager interest. “How extraordinary! He might be able to + make some inquiries for me.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not know him. I do!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “There was a knock at the door—both turned round. Ernestine's trim + little maidservant was announcing a visitor who followed close behind. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Scarlett Trent.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Cecil! Aren't you well? you're looking positively ghastly!” + </p> + <p> + He pulled himself together—it had been a very realistic little + interlude. + </p> + <p> + “Bad headache!” he said, smiling. “By the by, I must go!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “You must have been disappointed.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + “Why have you never tried to find her before?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Who were the lawyers?” + </p> + <p> + “Cuthbert and Cuthbert.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me what you mean,” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “You have so much before you, so many possibilities. There is so much that + you may gain, so much that you may miss.” + </p> + <p> + He looked puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I knew what you meant,” he said, with some hesitation. + </p> + <p> + She laughed softly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He was unmoved. He looked at her with a grim tightening of the lips. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Monty's words were ringing back in his ears. After all, pleasures could be + bought—but happiness! + </p> + <p> + “And you,” he said, “you too think that these things you have mentioned + are the things most to be desired in life?” + </p> + <p> + A certain restraint crept into her manner. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered simply. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + She looked him steadily in the face. + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong,” she said, “I have no money. I have not chosen a + profession willingly—only because I am poor!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “At least,” he said, “you belong to these people.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered, “I am one of the poor young women of society.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + She laughed gaily. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He rose and held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you very much,” he said, “for letting me come. May I—” + </p> + <p> + “You may come,” she said quietly, “as often as you like.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Da Souza!” he exclaimed. “How on earth came you on board?” + </p> + <p> + 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— + </p> + <p> + “I came by late tender at Southampton,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It cost me a special from London and the agents told me I couldn't do it, + but here I am, you see!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I came,” Da Souza answered, “in both our interests—chiefly in my + own!” + </p> + <p> + “I can believe that,” Trent answered shortly, “now speak up. Tell me what + you want.” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza groaned and sank down upon a vacant deck-chair. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza groaned. + </p> + <p> + “It is cruel madness,” he said, “and you are such an obstinate man! Oh + dear! oh dear!” + </p> + <p> + “I prefer,” Trent said, “a crisis now, to ruin in the future. Besides, I + have the remnants of a conscience.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza beat his hands upon the handles of his deck-chair. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza blinked his little eyes and looked up with a cunning smile. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Even if I gave way to you in this,” Trent answered, “the third reason is + strong enough.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “And what about yourself?” Trent asked. “I imagine you have some other + purpose in taking this voyage than just to argue with me.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to see,” Da Souza said, “that you do as little mischief as + possible.” + </p> + <p> + 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 be 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII + </h2> + <p> + 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— + </p> + <p> + “Last morning, Mr. Trent!” + </p> + <p> + Trent glanced round and nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Are you disembarking here?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I remember him,” Trent answered. “He was not the sort of person one + forgets.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a very rough diamond,” Da Souza said apologetically. “He has lived + here so long that he has become almost half a native.” + </p> + <p> + “And the other half a thief,” Trent muttered. + </p> + <p> + Da Souza was not in the least offended. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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— + </p> + <p> + “Welcome back to Attra, senor?” + </p> + <p> + Trent nodded curtly. + </p> + <p> + “Place isn't much changed,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “It is very slowly here,” Oom Sam said, “that progress is made! The + climate is too horrible. It makes dead sheep of men.” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to hang on pretty well,” Trent remarked carelessly. “Been up + country lately?” + </p> + <p> + “I was trading with the King of Bekwando a month ago,” Oom Sam answered. + </p> + <p> + “Palm-oil and mahogany for vile rum I suppose,” Trent said. + </p> + <p> + The man extended his hands and shrugged his shoulders. The old gesture. + </p> + <p> + “They will have it,” he said. “Shall we go to the hotel, Senor Trent, and + rest?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + The Englishman, a surveyor from a London office, assented with enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “I can't offer to put you up,” he said gloomily. “Living out here's + beastly. See you in the morning, then.” + </p> + <p> + He strolled away, fanning himself. Trent lit a long cigar. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + He pointed to a little one-storey building about a mile away along the + coast. Trent nodded. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he as far gone as that?” Trent asked slowly. + </p> + <p> + “His mind,” Oom Sam said, “is gone. One little flickering spark of life + goes on. A day! a week! who can tell how long?” + </p> + <p> + “Has he a doctor?” Trent asked. + </p> + <p> + “The missionary, he is a medical man,” Oom Sam explained. “Yet he is long + past the art of medicine.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Oom Sam shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Trent set down his glass without a word, and called to some Kru boys in + the square who carried litters. + </p> + <p> + “I am going,” he said, “to find Monty.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh! What!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Monty had recovered a little his power of speech. He leaned over his spade + and smiled benignly at his visitor. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He looked anxiously away towards the town and began to mumble. Trent was + in despair. Presently he began again. + </p> + <p> + “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....” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Monty, do you remember this?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Take it away,” Monty moaned. “I lost it long ago. I don't want to see it! + I don't want to think.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Monty, why do you look so often that way?” Trent said quietly. “Is some + one coming out from the town to see you?” + </p> + <p> + Monty threw a quick glance at him and Trent sighed. For the glance was + full of cunning, the low cunning of the lunatic criminal. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Come here,” he cried. + </p> + <p> + The boy shook his head. “No understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Who sent you here with that filthy stuff?” he asked sternly. “You'd best + answer me.” + </p> + <p> + The Kru boy, shrinking away from the dark muzzle of that motionless + revolver, was spellbound with fear. He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “No understand.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Massa, I tell! Massa Oom Sam, he send me!” + </p> + <p> + “And what is the stuff?” + </p> + <p> + “Hamburgh gin, massa! very good liquor! Please, massa, point him pistol + the other way.” + </p> + <p> + Trent took up the flask, smelt its contents and threw it away with a + little exclamation of disgust. + </p> + <p> + “How often have you been coming here on this errand?” he asked sternly. + </p> + <p> + “Most every day, massa—when him Mr. Price away.” + </p> + <p> + Trent nodded. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Trent nodded. + </p> + <p> + “He left you a little money with him, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + The woman smiled faintly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you know,” Trent asked bluntly, “that he had been a drunkard?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” the woman answered promptly, “we will. We'll do our honest best.” + </p> + <p> + Trent laid a bank-note upon the table. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “We are starving men,” he said; “can you help us?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course we can,” Trent answered quickly. “This way. We've plenty of + stores.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Better?” he asked presently. + </p> + <p> + “Much. What luck to find you. What are you after—gold?” + </p> + <p> + Trent shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Not at present. We're planning out the new road from Attra to Bekwando.” + </p> + <p> + Francis looked up with surprise. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “We have a charter,” he said, “and, if necessary, we must fight. I'm glad + to be prepared though.” + </p> + <p> + “A charter!” Francis pulled himself together and looked curiously at the + man who was still bending over him. + </p> + <p> + “Great Heavens!” he exclaimed, “why, you are Scarlett Trent, the man whom + I met with poor Villiers in Bekwando years ago.” + </p> + <p> + Trent nodded. + </p> + <p> + “We waited for you,” he said, “to witness our concession. I thought that + you would remember.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Trent winced a little. + </p> + <p> + “You have an excellent memory,” he said drily. + </p> + <p> + Francis raised himself a little, and a fiercer note crept into his tone. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a lie!” said Trent passionately. “When I left him, I honestly + believed him to be a dead man.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Da Souza?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Gone back to England,” Cathcart answered, looking out of the open + casement shaded from the sun by the sloping roof. “His steamer started + yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + Trent was puzzled. He scarcely understood this move. + </p> + <p> + “Did he give any reason?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Cathcart nodded. + </p> + <p> + He said so! + </p> + <p> + “And why? Did he tell you that?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + Cathcart coughed and was obviously ill-at-ease, but he answered with some + show of dignity. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “So that's your opinion, is it?” Trent said grimly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Trent rose and opened the door which swung into the little room. + </p> + <p> + “Out you go!” he said fiercely. + </p> + <p> + Cathcart looked at him in blank astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” he exclaimed. “These are my quarters!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't talk rubbish!” Cathcart said angrily. “I'm the authorised and + properly appointed surveyor here!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “You—you—haven't the power to do this,” Cathcart stuttered. + </p> + <p> + Trent laughed. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “There are all my clothes—” Cathcart began. + </p> + <p> + Trent laid his hands upon his shoulders and threw him softly outside. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Cathcart picked himself up. “Well, I should like to know who's going to + make your road,” he said spitefully. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What the devil are you doing there?” Trent asked. “Out you go with your + master!” + </p> + <p> + The boy looked up. He had a fair, smooth face, but lips like Trent's own. + </p> + <p> + “I'm just thinking about that first bend by Kurru corner, sir,” he said, + “I'm not sure about the level.” + </p> + <p> + Trent's face relaxed. He held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “My boy,” he said, “I'll make your fortune as sure as my name is Scarlett + Trent!” + </p> + <p> + “We'll make that road anyway,” the boy answered, with a smile. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “How is he?” Trent asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + The woman looked at him in wonder. + </p> + <p> + “Why, he's gone, sir—gone with the Jewish gentleman who said that + you had sent him.” + </p> + <p> + “Where to?” Trent asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, to England in the Ophir!” the woman answered. + </p> + <p> + Then Trent began to feel that, after all, the struggle of his life was + only beginning. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The boy was looking backwards and forwards along the long line of + disembowelled earth. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “None,” Trent interjected. + </p> + <p> + “Then it's wonderful!” + </p> + <p> + Trent smiled upon the boy with such a smile as few people had ever seen + upon his lips. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The boy laughed. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Trent looked thoughtfully into the red embers. “You had the mail to-day,” + the boy continued. “How were things in London?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “And the shares?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And when shall you go?” the boy asked. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The boy laughed. + </p> + <p> + “What a time we'll have!” he cried. “Say, do you know your way round?” + </p> + <p> + Trent shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid not,” he said. “You'll have to be my guide.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Trent nodded. + </p> + <p> + “I'll expect to,” he said. “Is she anything like you?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Here, you've dropped your cigar, Trent.” + </p> + <p> + Trent groped for it on the ground with shaking fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Writes for newspapers?” he repeated slowly. “I wonder—her name + isn't Davenant, is it?” + </p> + <p> + The boy shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Any one hurt?” he asked the boy who brought him some. The boy grinned, + but shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Plenty savages killed,” he said, “no white man or Kru boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Where's Mr. Davenant,” Trent asked suddenly. + </p> + <p> + The boy looked round and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “No seen Mr. Dav'nant,” he said. “Him fight well though! Him not hurt!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Cut those bonds!” Trent ordered, pointing to the boy. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Trent's revolver flashed out in the sunlight. + </p> + <p> + “Cut that cord!” he ordered again. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I knew you'd find me,” he said. “Did I look awfully frightened?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “And the people?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “They are going to help me make my road,” Trent said firmly. “I am going + to teach them to work!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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! + </p> + <p> + “Chap called for mail. Goodbye. + </p> + <p> + “Ever your affectionate + </p> + <p> + “FRED. + </p> + <p> + “Trent is a brick.” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI + </h2> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The old man nodded his thanks and stepped along Da Souza felt that his + time had come. He accosted him with an urbane smile. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” he said, “but I think I heard you ask for the offices of the + Bekwando Land Company.” + </p> + <p> + The old man looked up eagerly. “If you can direct me there, sir,” he said, + “I shall be greatly obliged.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza changed the bag into his other hand and thrust his arm through + his companion's. + </p> + <p> + “You haven't seen the papers lately, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “No! I've just landed—to-day—from Africa!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + 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:— + </p> + <p> + “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! + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Which comes from your brother + </p> + <p> + “SAMUEL. + </p> + <p> + “P.S.—Do not forget the small account for disbursements.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I think I will go away now,” he said. “I am very much obliged to you for + looking after me.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + Monty nodded. + </p> + <p> + “The Gold Coast?” + </p> + <p> + Monty nodded again, but with less confidence. + </p> + <p> + “By any chance—were you called Monty there?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry,” he said, “of course it's true. The police have been + here.” + </p> + <p> + “The police!” Monty moaned. + </p> + <p> + Da Souza nodded. Benevolence was so rare a part for him to play, that he + rather enjoyed it. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Monty fell on his knees. “You won't let any one know that I am here!” he + pleaded. + </p> + <p> + “Not I,” Da Souza answered fervently. + </p> + <p> + Monty rose to his feet, his face full of dumb misery. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” he muttered, “I shall never see her—never—never—never!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXII + </h2> + <p> + “You are very smart, Ernestine,” he said, looking her admiringly. + </p> + <p> + “One must be smart at Ascot,” she answered, “or stay away.” + </p> + <p> + “I've just heard some news,” he continued. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” + </p> + <p> + “Who do you think is here?” + </p> + <p> + She glanced at him sideways under her lace parasol. “Every one I should + think.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I thought,” she said, “that the Mazetta Castle was not due till to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “She touched at Plymouth in the night, and he had a special train up. He + has some horses running, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” she remarked, “that he is more of a celebrity than ever now!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing but praises! According to Fred, he's a hero!” + </p> + <p> + “I hate him,” Davenant said sulkily. + </p> + <p> + “And so,” she answered softly, “do I! Do you see him coming, Cecil?” + </p> + <p> + “In good company too,” the young man laughed bitterly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You have become famous,” she said. “Do you know that you are going to be + made a lion?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very pleased to hear it,” she answered. “He's a dear boy!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He looked down the paddock and back to her. + </p> + <p> + “Walk with me a little way,” he said, “and I will show you Iris before she + starts.” + </p> + <p> + “You!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Iris is the favourite!” + </p> + <p> + He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She was walking by his side now towards the quieter end of the paddock. + </p> + <p> + “I hear you have been to Torquay,” he said, looking at her critically, “it + seems to have agreed with you. You are looking well!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not,” he answered. “I shall see plenty of her later. Are you + fond of horses?” + </p> + <p> + “Very.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to many race-meetings?” + </p> + <p> + “Whenever I get the chance!—I always come here.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + She laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to write about some of the dresses,” she said. “I'm afraid no + one would read my racing notes.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you'll mention your own,” he said coolly. “It's quite the + prettiest here.” + </p> + <p> + She scarcely knew whether to be amused or offended. + </p> + <p> + “You are a very downright person, Mr. Trent,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You don't expect me to have acquired manners yet, do you?” he answered + drily. + </p> + <p> + “You have acquired a great many things,” she said, “with surprising + facility. Why not manners?” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt they will come, but I shall want a lot of polishing. I wonder—” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Whether any one will ever think it worth while to undertake the task.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “In what way?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you tried to find her?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That sounds strange,” she remarked, with her eyes fixed upon the distant + Surrey hills. “Do you know her reason?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated. She kept her eyes turned away from him, but her manner + denoted impatience. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + All the time she was asking herself how much he knew. She motioned him to + proceed. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Brute!” she murmured in an odd, choked tone. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That,” she remarked, “sounds a little far-fetched—not to say + impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “Some day,” he answered boldly, “I shall speak to you of this again, and I + shall try to convince you that it is truth!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You have not yet told me,” she said abruptly, “what you imagine can be + this girl's reasons for remaining unknown.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I will try,” he answered, “especially—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” + </p> + <p> + “Especially—because the picture makes me think—sometimes—of + you!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed a little uneasily. “And you found yourself instead the victim + of an interviewer! What a drop from the romantic to the prosaic!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Trent, will you take me back to Lady Tresham, please?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Have you much money on Iris?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Nero the Second wins!” + </p> + <p> + “The favourite's done!” + </p> + <p> + “Nero the Second for a monkey!” + </p> + <p> + “Nero the Second romps in!” + </p> + <p> + “Iris! Iris! Iris wins!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Nero the Second wins!” + </p> + <p> + “Iris wins!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm so sorry,” she cried. “Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, Dick,” he said cheerfully, “you rode a fine race and the best + horse won. Better luck next time.” + </p> + <p> + Several people approached Trent, but he turned away at once to Ernestine. + </p> + <p> + “You will let me take you to Lady Tresham now,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “If you please,” she answered quietly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “The boxes,” Trent suggested, “must be very hot now!” + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + “This is your first Ascot, is it not?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “My first!” + </p> + <p> + “And your first defeat?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it is,” he admitted cheerfully. “I rather expected to win, + too.” + </p> + <p> + “You must be very disappointed, I am afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “I have lost,” he said thoughtfully, “a gold cup. I have gained—” + </p> + <p> + She half rose and shook out her skirts as though about to leave him. He + stopped short and found another conclusion to his sentence. + </p> + <p> + “Experience!” + </p> + <p> + A faint smile parted her lips. She resumed her seat. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 Saville Row tailor were all for her sake. It was true + that she had condescended to Bohemianism, that he 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! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIV + </h2> + <p> + “And now,” she said, rising, “you really must take me to Lady Tresham! + They will think that I am lost.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you still at your rooms?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, only I'm having them spring-cleaned for a few days. I am staying at + Tresham House.” + </p> + <p> + “May I come and see you there?” + </p> + <p> + The man's quiet pertinacity kindled a sort of indignation in her. The + sudden weakness in her defences was unbearable. + </p> + <p> + “I think not,” she answered shortly. “You don't know Lady Tresham, and + they might not approve. Lady Tresham is rather old-fashioned.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You are by way of going into society, then,” she answered insolently. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think I've made any particular efforts,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Money,” she murmured, “is an everlasting force!” + </p> + <p> + “The people of your world,” he answered, with a flash of contempt, “are + the people who find it so.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I should like a word with you, Trent,” Captain Francis said quietly. + </p> + <p> + Trent nodded. + </p> + <p> + “In five minutes,” he said, “I will return here—on the other side of + the band-stand, say.” + </p> + <p> + Francis nodded and stood aside. Trent and Ernestine continued their + progress towards the stand. + </p> + <p> + “Your friend,” Ernestine remarked, “seemed to come upon you like a modern + Banquo!” + </p> + <p> + Trent, who did not understand the allusion, was for once discreet. + </p> + <p> + “He is a man with whom I had dealings abroad,” he said, “I did not expect + him to turn up here.” + </p> + <p> + “In West Africa?” she asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + Trent smiled enigmatically. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I did not expect to see you in England quite so soon, Captain Francis,” + Trent said. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Trent shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You could easily have made sure of it,” Francis answered. + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't my way,” Trent answered shortly. “Now what do you want with + me?” + </p> + <p> + Francis turned towards him with a curious mixture of expressions in his + face. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you know where he is?” Trent asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I? Certainly not! How should I?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I heard that he had left,” Francis said, “from Mr. Walsh.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oom Sam's brother?” + </p> + <p> + Trent nodded. + </p> + <p> + “And his interest?” Francis asked. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And how does your stock hold?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He has a large interest, then?” + </p> + <p> + “A very large one,” Trent answered drily. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Trent assented. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Francis looked at him keenly. + </p> + <p> + “What do you expect me to do?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Francis took a little silver case from his pocket, lit a cigarette, and + smoked for a moment or two thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Trent's under-lip was twitching, a sure sign of the tempest within, but he + kept himself under restraint and said never a word. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + Trent rose slowly to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Give me your address,” he said, “I will do what I can.” + </p> + <p> + Francis tore a leaf from his pocket-book and wrote a few words upon it. + </p> + <p> + “That will find me at any time,” he said. “One moment, Trent. When I saw + you first you were with—a lady.” + </p> + <p> + “Well!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Ernestine Wendermott,” Trent answered slowly. + </p> + <p> + Francis threw away his cigarette and lit another. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he said. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 unlooked-for visitor. Trent had come straight + from Ascot, straight indeed from his interview with Francis, and was still + wearing his racing-glasses. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to see Mr. Da Souza,” Trent said. “Is he in?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe so, sir,” the boy answered. “What name?” + </p> + <p> + “Trent! Mr. Scarlett Trent!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I am most honoured, Mr. Trent, sir,” he declared. “Welcome back to + England. When did you return?” + </p> + <p> + “Yesterday,” Trent said shortly. + </p> + <p> + “And you have come,” Da Souza continued, “fresh from the triumphs of the + race-course. It is so, I trust?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza spread outwards the palms of his hands. He spoke with + well-affected impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Monty! always Monty! What do I want with him? It is you who should look + after him, not I.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + His cry ended in a gurgle, for Trent's hand was on his throat. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza took up his hat with an ugly oath and yielded. The two men left + the office together. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + “Listen!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Mother, I cannot bear it any longer,” she cried. “I know where the key + is, and I am going into that room.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Da Souza's portly frame quivered with excitement. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” she pleaded, “don't Julie, do remember! Your father will know, + and then—oh, I shall be frightened to death!” + </p> + <p> + “It is nothing to do with you, mother,” the girl said, “I am going.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “We heard you talking to yourself downstairs,” she said, “and we were + afraid that you might be in pain.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” he muttered, “That is all, then! There is no one behind you—no + one who wants me!” + </p> + <p> + “There is no one in the house,” she assured him, “save my mother and + myself.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't drink if I were you,” she said, “it can't be good for you, I'm + sure!” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” he answered slowly, “it's poison—rank poison.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I daren't,” he whispered. “They're looking for me now. I must hide—hide + all the time!” + </p> + <p> + “Who are looking for you?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you know? Mr. Walsh and his wife! They have come over after me!” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you know,” he muttered, “that I am a thief?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “No, I certainly didn't. I'm very sorry!” + </p> + <p> + He nodded his head vigorously a great many times. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you tell me about it?” she asked. “Was it anything very bad?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed not to have heard her. He continued presently— + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + She patted his hand gently. There was a lump in her throat, and her eyes + were wet. + </p> + <p> + “Was it your daughter you wanted so much to see?” she asked softly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He held up his hand. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + There were footsteps upon the stairs. He clung to her in an agony of + terror. + </p> + <p> + “They are coming!” he cried. “Hide me! Oh, hide me!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “He goes mad without something to drink,” Da Souza muttered. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza was no longer cringing. He shrugged his shoulders and thrust his + fat little hands into his trousers pockets. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I can afford to lose a bit,” Trent answered quietly, “I'm not afraid.” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza laughed a little hysterically. + </p> + <p> + “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'll soon do the work.” + </p> + <p> + Trent turned his back upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Monty,” he said, “you aren't afraid to come with me?” + </p> + <p> + Monty looked at him, perplexed and troubled. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no one, then,” Monty asked in a slow, painful whisper, “who will + put me in prison?” + </p> + <p> + “I give you my word, Monty,” Trent declared, “that there is not a single + soul who has any idea of the sort.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “She shall not know,” Trent said, “I'll promise you'll be perfectly safe + with me.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Not now, Monty,” he said, “you've had enough of that!” + </p> + <p> + The man's hand dropped to his side. He looked into Trent's face, and the + years seemed to fade away into a mist. + </p> + <p> + “You were always a hard man, Scarlett Trent,” he said. “You were always + hard on me!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + Monty turned a woebegone face around the little room. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + But Trent shook his head. “I have made up my mind,” he said. “He must come + with me. Monty, there is the little girl! + </p> + <p> + “Too late,” Monty moaned; “look at me!” + </p> + <p> + “But if you could leave her a fortune, make her magnificent presents?” + </p> + <p> + Monty wavered then. His dull eyes shone once more! + </p> + <p> + “If I could do that,” he murmured. + </p> + <p> + “I pledge my word that you shall,” Trent answered. Monty rose up. + </p> + <p> + “I am ready,” he said simply. “Let us start at once.” + </p> + <p> + Da Souza planted himself in front of them. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVII + </h2> + <p> + “From a conversational point of view,” Lady Tresham remarked, “our guest + to-night seems scarcely likely to distinguish himself.” + </p> + <p> + Ernestine looked over her fan across the drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it is his evening clothes,” Lady Tresham remarked, “they take + some getting used to, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “This morning,” Ernestine said, “he had passed that stage altogether. This + is, I suppose, a relapse! Such a nuisance for you!” + </p> + <p> + Lady Tresham rose and smiled sweetly at the man who was taking her in. + </p> + <p> + “Well, he is to be your charge, so I hope you may find him more amusing + than he looks,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Presently she addressed him. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Trent!” + </p> + <p> + He turned round and looked at her. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + He eyed her dispassionately. + </p> + <p> + “I am not used to making conversation,” he said. “Is there anything in the + world which I could talk about likely to interest you?” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her with a curiously grim smile. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “You do not strike one,” she remarked, “as the sort of person likely to + lose a fortune on the race-course.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right,” he answered, “I think that I won money. A couple of + thousand at least.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this a new character?” she murmured. “Are you becoming faint-hearted?” + </p> + <p> + “It is no ordinary reverse,” he said slowly. “It is collapse—everything!” + </p> + <p> + “O—oh!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It must have been an odd sensation,” she said thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you what it made me realise,” he 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “In the meantime I should be ostracised.” + </p> + <p> + “By a good many people, no doubt.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “By the majority, of course,” he said. “I have wondered sometimes whether + there might be any one who would be different.” + </p> + <p> + “I should be sorry,” she said demurely. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You are cynical.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot help it,” he answered. “It is my dream. To-day, you know, I have + stood face to face with evil things.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “The others,” he said, “have gone on. Lady Tresham left word that I was to + take you.” + </p> + <p> + She glanced at the old-fashioned clock which stood in the corner of the + hall. + </p> + <p> + “How ridiculous to have hurried so!” she said. “One might surely be + comfortable here instead of waiting at the theatre.” + </p> + <p> + She walked towards the door with him. His own little night-brougham was + waiting there, and she stepped into it. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Her gown seemed to fill the carriage—a little sea of frothy lace and + muslin. He hesitated on the pavement. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I ride outside?” he suggested. “I don't want to crush you.” + </p> + <p> + She gathered up her skirt at once and made room for him. He directed the + driver and stepped in beside her. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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'.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean it?” he asked incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “But you belong to them—you have their instincts.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. What she said next sounded to him, in a certain sense, + enigmatic. + </p> + <p> + “There is a good deal left for you to tell me,” she said. “Some day I + shall hope to know everything.” + </p> + <p> + He met her gaze without flinching. + </p> + <p> + “Some day,” he said, “I hope you will.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You people haven't hurried,” Lady Tresham remarked, leaning forward. + </p> + <p> + “We are in time at any rate,” Ernestine answered, letting her cloak fall + upon the back of the stall. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You like it?” + </p> + <p> + “The latter part,” he answered. “What a sudden change! At first I thought + it rubbish, afterwards it was wonderful!” + </p> + <p> + “Hubert is a fine actor,” she remarked, fanning herself. “It was his first + opportunity in the play, and he certainly took advantage of it.” + </p> + <p> + He turned deliberately round in his seat towards her, and she was struck + with the forceful eagerness of his dark, set face. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Ernestine held up her programme and studied it deeply. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot tell,” she said, “it depends.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Delightful!” + </p> + <p> + Trent reached for his hat and whispered in Ernestine's ear. + </p> + <p> + “You are all coming to supper with me at the 'Milan,'” he said; “I am + going on now to see about it.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled upon him, evidently pleased. + </p> + <p> + “What a charming idea! But do you mean all of us?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + He found his carriage outside without much difficulty and drove quickly + round to the Milan Restaurant. The director looked doubtful. + </p> + <p> + “A table for eighteen, sir! It is quite too late to arrange it, except in + a private room.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The man bowed. This must be a millionaire, for the restaurant was the + “Milan.” + </p> + <p> + “And the name, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Scarlett Trent—you may not know me, but Lady Tresham, Lord + Colliston, and the Earl of Howton are amongst my guests.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “We must arrange the table crossways, sir, at the end of the room,” he + said. “And about the flowers?” + </p> + <p> + “The best, and as many as you can get,” Trent answered shortly. “I have a + 100 pound note with me. I shall not grumble if I get little change out of + it, but I want value for the money.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall have it, sir!” the man answered significantly—and he kept + his word. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I have been telling Captain Francis,” Ernestine said, “of your delightful + invitation.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope that Captain Francis will join us,” Trent said coldly. + </p> + <p> + Francis stepped behind for a moment to light a cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be delighted,” he answered. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I must have a word with you, Francis,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I will come back,” he said. “I must see Miss Wendermott into her + carriage.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You will come with me please,” Trent said, “I have a few words to say to + you.” + </p> + <p> + Francis shrugged his shoulders and obeyed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIX + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Francis,” he said, “you have been my enemy since the day I saw you first + in Bekwando village.” + </p> + <p> + “Scarcely that,” Francis objected. “I have distrusted you since then if + you like.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The story I told,” Francis answered, “could have had no significance to + them.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + The man's start was real. There was no doubt about that. “And she knew?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Francis nodded. + </p> + <p> + “She has asked me to call upon her to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. Now, forgive my troubling you with personal details, but you've + got to understand. I mean Miss Wendermott to be my wife.” + </p> + <p> + Francis sat up in his chair genuinely surprised. Something like a scowl + was on his dark, sallow face. + </p> + <p> + “Your wife!” he exclaimed, “aren't you joking, Trent?” + </p> + <p> + “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.”' + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Monty has been hardly used in some ways,” Trent said. “I've done my best + by him, though.” + </p> + <p> + “That,” Francis said coldly, “is a matter of opinion.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I grant it you?” + </p> + <p> + Trent shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Francis knocked the ash off his cigarette and rose slowly to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean that,” Trent said quietly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Since this morning, then,” Trent said, “your ill-will toward me has + increased.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “You yourself, I fancy,” Trent said quietly, “admired her?” + </p> + <p> + “More than any woman I have ever met,” Francis answered promptly, “and I + consider your attitude towards her grossly presumptuous.” + </p> + <p> + Trent stood quite still for a moment—then he unlocked the door. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Francis paused upon the threshold. “You understand,” he said + significantly. + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” Trent answered. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XL + </h2> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + At midday there came an urgent message from Trent's bankers, and as he + read it he cursed. It was short but eloquent. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Yours truly, + </p> + <p> + “A. SINCLAIR, General Manager.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + They sent for the manager. Trent was ushered with much ceremony into his + private room. The manager was flushed and nervous. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Did I understand you, Mr. Trent, that you desired to absolutely close the + account?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Most decidedly,” Trent answered. + </p> + <p> + “We shall be very sorry to lose you.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “That,” he said coolly, “will depend upon whether he is fit to see you!” + </p> + <p> + He rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + “Tell Miss Fullagher to step this way a moment,” he ordered. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Fullagher,” he asked, “how is the patient?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “This is the young lady who I told you would want to see him when you + thought it advisable.” + </p> + <p> + The nurse looked doubtful. “Sir Henry is upstairs, sir,” she said. “I had + better ask his advice.” + </p> + <p> + Trent nodded and she withdrew. The three were left alone, Ernestine and + Francis remained apart as though by design. Trent was silent. + </p> + <p> + She returned in a moment or two. + </p> + <p> + “Sir Henry has not quite finished his examination, sir,” she announced. + “The young lady can come up in half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + Again they were left alone. Then Trent crossed the room and stood between + them and the door. + </p> + <p> + “Before you see your father, Miss Wendermott,” he said, “I have an + explanation to make to you!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0041" id="link2HCH0041"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLI + </h2> + <p> + She looked at him calmly, but in her set, white face he seemed to read + already his sentence! + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Francis shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Trent ignored his speech. + </p> + <p> + “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! + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + She would have spoken, but Francis held up his hand. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I am content,” Trent cried fiercely. “Your story is true enough, but it + is cunningly linked together. You have done your worst. Choose!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You have deceived me, Mr. Trent. I am very sorry, and very disappointed.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She faltered and did not answer him. Outside the nurse was knocking at the + door. Trent waved them away with an imperious gesture. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0042" id="link2HCH0042"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Trent!” he cried. “Scarlett Trent, by all that's amazing!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Fred!” + </p> + <p> + They stood with hands locked together, the boy breathless with surprise. + Then he saw that something was wrong. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Trent?” he asked quickly. “Have we gone smash after all, or + have you been ill?” + </p> + <p> + Trent shook his head and smiled gravely. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't many,” Trent answered. “They're on the way. Have you got room + for me?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me all about it—do,” he begged. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I never thought to tell any one,” he said slowly, “I think I'd like to!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + But Trent shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I have made mistakes,” he said, “and of course behaved badly to him.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “For his sake,” he murmured. + </p> + <p> + She leaned over and caressed him lightly. “For mine, dear.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Millionaire of Yesterday, by +E. 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