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diff --git a/1878.txt b/1878.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..55f301d --- /dev/null +++ b/1878.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9132 @@ +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 + +Posting Date: October 23, 2008 [EBook #1878] +Release Date: August, 1999 +[Last updated: February 24, 2014] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer + + + + + +A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY + +By E. Phillips Oppenheim + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +"Filth," grunted Trent--"ugh! I tell you what it is, my venerable +friend--I have seen some dirty cabins in the west of Ireland and some +vile holes in East London. I've been in some places which I can't think +of even now without feeling sick. I'm not a particular chap, wasn't +brought up to it--no, nor squeamish either, but this is a bit thicker +than anything I've ever knocked up against. If Francis doesn't hurry +we'll have to chuck it! We shall never stand it out, Monty!" + +The older man, gaunt, blear-eyed, ragged, turned over on his side. His +appearance was little short of repulsive. His voice when he spoke was, +curiously enough, the voice of a gentleman, thick and a trifle rough +though it sounded. + +"My young friend," he said, "I agree with you--in effect--most heartily. +The place is filthy, the surroundings are repulsive, not to add +degrading. The society is--er--not congenial--I allude of course to our +hosts--and the attentions of these unwashed, and I am afraid I must +say unclothed, ladies of dusky complexion is to say the least of it +embarrassing." + +"Dusky complexion!" Trent interrupted scornfully, "they're coal black!" + +Monty nodded his head with solemn emphasis. "I will go so far as to +admit that you are right," he acknowledged. "They are as black as sin! +But, my friend Trent, I want you to consider this: If the nature of our +surroundings is offensive to you, think what it must be to me. I may, +I presume, between ourselves, allude to you as one of the people. +Refinement and luxury have never come in your way, far less have they +become indispensable to you. You were, I believe, educated at a +Board School, I was at Eton. Afterwards you were apprenticed to a +harness-maker, I--but no matter! Let us summarise the situation." + +"If that means cutting it short, for Heaven's sake do so," Trent +grumbled. "You'll talk yourself into a fever if you don't mind. Let's +know what you're driving at." + +"Talking," the elder man remarked with a slight shrug of his shoulders, +"will never have a prejudicial effect upon my health. To men of +your--pardon me--scanty education the expression of ideas in speech is +doubtless a labour. To me, on the other hand, it is at once a pleasure +and a relief. What I was about to observe is this: I belong by birth +to what are called, I believe, the classes, you to the masses. I have +inherited instincts which have been refined and cultivated, perhaps +over-cultivated by breeding and associations--you are troubled with +nothing of the sort. Therefore if these surroundings, this discomfort, +not to mention the appalling overtures of our lady friends, are +distressing to you, why, consider how much more so they must be to me!" + +Trent smiled very faintly, but he said nothing. He was sitting +cross-legged with his back against one of the poles which supported +the open hut, with his eyes fixed upon the cloud of mist hanging over +a distant swamp. A great yellow moon had stolen over the low range of +stony hills--the mist was curling away in little wreaths of gold. Trent +was watching it, but if you had asked him he would have told you that +he was wondering when the alligators came out to feed, and how near the +village they ventured. Looking at his hard, square face and keen, +black eyes no one would surely have credited him with any less material +thoughts. + +"Furthermore," the man whom Trent had addressed as Monty continued, +"there arises the question of danger and physical suitability to +the situation. Contrast our two cases, my dear young friend. I am +twenty-five years older than you, I have a weak heart, a ridiculous +muscle, and the stamina of a rabbit. My fighting days are over. I +can shoot straight, but shooting would only serve us here until our +cartridges were gone--when the rush came a child could knock me over. +You, on the contrary, have the constitution of an ox, the muscles of a +bull, and the wind of an ostrich. You are, if you will pardon my saying +so, a magnificent specimen of the animal man. In the event of trouble +you would not hesitate to admit that your chances of escape would be +at least double mine." Trent lit a match under pretence of lighting his +pipe--in reality because only a few feet away he had seen a pair of +bright eyes gleaming at them through a low shrub. A little native boy +scuttled away--as black as night, woolly-headed, and shiny; he had crept +up unknown to look with fearful eyes upon the wonderful white strangers. +Trent threw a lump of earth at him and laughed as he dodged it. + +"Well, go ahead, Monty," he said. "Let's hear what you're driving at. +What a gab you've got to be sure!" + +Monty waved his hand--a magnificent and silencing gesture. + +"I have alluded to these matters," he continued, "merely in order +to show you that the greater share of danger and discomfort in this +expedition falls to my lot. Having reminded you of this, Trent, I refer +to the concluding sentence of your last speech. The words indicated, as +I understood them, some doubt of our ability to see this thing through." + +He paused, peering over to where Trent was sitting with grim, immovable +face, listening with little show of interest. He drew a long, deep +breath and moved over nearer to the doorway. His manner was suddenly +changed. + +"Scarlett Trent," he cried, "Scarlett Trent, listen to me! You are young +and I am old! To you this may be one adventure amongst many--it is my +last. I've craved for such a chance as this ever since I set foot in +this cursed land. It's come late enough, too late almost for me, but I'm +going through with it while there's breath in my body. Swear to me now +that you will not back out! Do you hear, Trent? Swear!" + +Trent looked curiously at his companion, vastly interested in this +sudden outburst, in the firmness of his tone and the tightening of +the weak mouth. After all, then, the old chap had some grit in him. To +Trent, who had known him for years as a broken-down hanger-on of +the settlement at Buckomari, a drunkard, gambler, a creature to all +appearance hopelessly gone under, this look and this almost passionate +appeal were like a revelation. He stretched out his great hand and +patted his companion on the back--a proceeding which obviously caused +him much discomfort. + +"Bravo, old cockie!" he said. "Didn't imagine you'd got the grit. You +know I'm not the chap to be let down easy. We'll go through with it, +then, and take all chances! It's my game right along. Every copper I've +got went to pay the bearers here and to buy the kickshaws and rum for +old What's-his-name, and I'm not anxious to start again as a pauper. +We'll stay here till we get our concessions, or till they bury us, then! +It's a go!" + +Monty--no one at Buckomari had ever known of any other name for +him--stretched out a long hand, with delicate tapering fingers, and let +it rest for a moment gingerly in the thick, brown palm of his companion. +Then he glanced stealthily over his shoulder and his eyes gleamed. + +"I think, if you will allow me, Trent, I will just moisten my lips--no +more--with some of that excellent brandy." + +Trent caught his arm and held it firmly. + +"No, you don't," he said, shaking his head. "That's the last bottle, and +we've got the journey back. We'll keep that, in case of fever." + +A struggle went on in the face of the man whose hot breath fell upon +Trent's cheek. It was the usual thing--the disappointment of the baffled +drunkard--a little more terrible in his case perhaps because of the +remnants of refinement still to be traced in his well-shaped features. +His weak eyes for once were eloquent, but with the eloquence of cupidity +and unwholesome craving, his lean cheeks twitched and his hands shook. + +"Just a drop, Trent!" he pleaded. "I'm not feeling well, indeed I'm not! +The odours here are so foul. A liqueur-glassful will do me all the good +in the world." + +"You won't get it, Monty, so it's no use whining," Trent said bluntly. +"I've given way to you too much already. Buck up, man! We're on the +threshold of fortune and we need all our wits about us." + +"Of fortune--fortune!" Monty's head dropped upon his chest, his nostrils +dilated, he seemed to fall into a state of stupor. Trent watched him +half curiously, half contemptuously. + +"You're terribly keen on money-making for an old 'un," he remarked, +after a somewhat lengthy pause. "What do you want to do with it?" + +"To do with it!" The old man raised his head. "To do with it!" The gleam +of reawakened desire lit up his face. He sat for a moment thinking. Then +he laughed softly. + +"I will tell you, Master Scarlett Trent," he said, "I will tell you why +I crave for wealth. You are a young and an ignorant man. Amongst +other things you do not know what money will buy. You have your coarse +pleasures I do not doubt, which seem sweet to you! Beyond them--what? +A tasteless and barbaric display, a vulgar generosity, an ignorant and +purposeless prodigality. Bah! How different it is with those who know! +There are many things, my young friend, which I learned in my younger +days, and amongst them was the knowledge of how to spend money. How to +spend it, you understand! It is an art, believe me! I mastered it, and, +until the end came, it was magnificent. In London and Paris to-day to +have wealth and to know how to spend it is to be the equal of princes! +The salons of the beautiful fly open before you, great men will clamour +for your friendship, all the sweetest triumphs which love and sport can +offer are yours. You stalk amongst a world of pygmies a veritable giant, +the adored of women, the envied of men! You may be old--it matters not; +ugly--you will be fooled into reckoning yourself an Adonis. Nobility +is great, art is great, genius is great, but the key to the pleasure +storehouse of the world is a key of gold--of gold!" + +He broke off with a little gasp. He held his throat and looked +imploringly towards the bottle. Trent shook his head stonily. There +was something pitiful in the man's talk, in that odd mixture of bitter +cynicism and passionate earnestness, but there was also something +fascinating. As regards the brandy, however, Trent was adamant. + +"Not a drop," he declared. "What a fool you are to want it, Monty! +You're a wreck already. You want to pull through, don't you? Leave the +filthy stuff alone. You'll not live a month to enjoy your coin if we get +it!" + +"Live!" Monty straightened himself out. A tremor went through all his +frame. + +"Live!" he repeated, with fierce contempt; "you are making the common +mistake of the whole ignorant herd. You are measuring life by its +length, when its depth alone is of any import. I want no more than a +year or two at the most, and I promise you, Mr. Scarlett Trent, my most +estimable young companion, that, during that year, I will live more than +you in your whole lifetime. I will drink deep of pleasures which you +know nothing of, I will be steeped in joys which you will never reach +more nearly than the man who watches a change in the skies or a sunset +across the ocean! To you, with boundless wealth, there will be depths of +happiness which you will never probe, joys which, if you have the wit to +see them at all, will be no more than a mirage to you." + +Trent laughed outright, easily and with real mirth. Yet in his heart +were sown already the seeds of a secret dread. There was a ring of +passionate truth in Monty's words. He believed what he was saying. +Perhaps he was right. The man's inborn hatred of a second or inferior +place in anything stung him. Were there to be any niches after all in +the temple of happiness to which he could never climb? He looked back +rapidly, looked down the avenue of a squalid and unlovely life, saw +himself the child of drink-sodden and brutal parents, remembered the +Board School with its unlovely surroundings, his struggles at a dreary +trade, his running away and the fierce draughts of delight which the +joy and freedom of the sea had brought to him on the morning when he had +crept on deck, a stowaway, to be lashed with every rope-end and to do +the dirty work of every one. Then the slavery at a Belgian settlement, +the job on a steamer trading along the Congo, the life at Buckomari, and +lastly this bold enterprise in which the savings of years were invested. +It was a life which called aloud for fortune some day or other to make +a little atonement. The old man was dreaming. Wealth would bring him, +uneducated though he was, happiness enough and to spare. + +A footstep fell softly upon the turf outside. Trent sprang at once into +an attitude of rigid attention. His revolver, which for four days had +been at full cock by his side, stole out and covered the approaching +shadow stealing gradually nearer and nearer. The old man saw nothing, +for he slept, worn out with excitement and exhaustion. + + + +CHAPTER II + + +A fat, unwholesome--looking creature, half native, half Belgian, waddled +across the open space towards the hut in which the two strangers had +been housed. He was followed at a little distance by two sturdy natives +bearing a steaming pot which they carried on a pole between them. Trent +set down his revolver and rose to his feet. + +"What news, Oom Sam?" he asked. "Has the English officer been heard of? +He must be close up now." + +"No news," the little man grunted. "The King, he send some of his own +supper to the white men. 'They got what they want,' he say. 'They start +work mine soon as like, but they go away from here.' He not like them +about the place! See!" + +"Oh, that be blowed!" Trent muttered. "What's this in the pot? It don't +smell bad." + +"Rabbit," the interpreter answered tersely. "Very good. Part King's own +supper. White men very favoured." + +Trent bent over the pot which the two men had set upon the ground. He +took a fork from his belt and dug it in. + +"Very big bones for a rabbit, Sam," he remarked doubtfully. + +Sam looked away. "Very big rabbits round here," he remarked. "Best keep +pot. Send men away." + +Trent nodded, and the men withdrew. + +"Stew all right," Sam whispered confidentially. "You eat him. No fear. +But you got to go. King beginning get angry. He say white men not to +stay. They got what he promised, now they go. I know King--know this +people well! You get away quick. He think you want be King here! You got +the papers--all you want, eh?" + +"Not quite, Sam," Trent answered. "There's an Englishman, Captain +Francis, on his way here up the Coast, going on to Walgetta Fort. He +must be here to-morrow. I want him to see the King's signature. If he's +a witness these niggers can never back out of the concession. They're +slippery devils. Another chap may come on with more rum and they'll +forget us and give him the right to work the mines too. See!" + +"I see," Sam answered; "but him not safe to wait. You believe me. I +know these tam niggers. They take two days get drunk, then get devils, +four--raving mad. They drunk now. Kill any one to-morrow--perhaps you. +Kill you certain to-morrow night. You listen now!" + +Trent stood up in the shadow of the overhanging roof. Every now and then +came a wild, shrill cry from the lower end of the village. Some one was +beating a frightful, cracked drum which they had got from a trader. The +tumult was certainly increasing. Trent swore softly, and then looked +irresolutely over his shoulder to where Monty was sleeping. + +"If the worst comes we shall never get away quickly," he muttered. "That +old carcase can scarcely drag himself along." + +Sam looked at him with cunning eyes. + +"He not fit only die," he said softly. "He very old, very sick man, you +leave him here! I see to him." + +Trent turned away in sick disgust. + +"We'll be off to-morrow, Sam," he said shortly. "I say! I'm beastly +hungry. What's in that pot?" + +Sam spread out the palms of his hands. + +"He all right, I see him cooked," he declared. "He two rabbits and one +monkey." + +Trent took out a plate and helped himself. + +"All right," he said. "Be off now. We'll go to-morrow before these +towsly-headed beauties are awake." + +Sam nodded and waddled off. Trent threw a biscuit and hit his companion +on the cheek. + +"Here, wake up, Monty!" he exclaimed. "Supper's come from the royal +kitchen. Bring your plate and tuck in!" + +Monty struggled to his feet and came meekly towards where the pot stood +simmering upon the ground. + +"I'm not hungry, Trent," he said, "but I am very thirsty, very thirsty +indeed. My throat is all parched. I am most uncomfortable. Really +I think your behaviour with regard to the brandy is most unkind and +ungenerous; I shall be ill, I know I shall. Won't you--" + +"No, I won't," Trent interrupted. "Now shut up all that rot and eat +something." + +"I have no appetite, thank you," Monty answered, with sulky dignity. + +"Eat something, and don't be a silly ass!" Trent insisted. "We've a hard +journey before us, and you'll need all the strength in your carcase +to land in Buckomari again. Here, you've dropped some of your precious +rubbish." + +Trent stooped forward and picked up what seemed to him at first to be +a piece of cardboard from the ground. He was about to fling it to its +owner, when he saw that it was a photograph. It was the likeness of a +girl, a very young girl apparently, for her hair was still down her +back and her dress was scarcely of the orthodox length. It was not +particularly well taken, but Trent had never seen anything like it +before. The lips were slightly parted, the deep eyes were brimming with +laughter, the pose was full of grace, even though the girl's figure was +angular. Trent had seen as much as this, when he felt the smart of a +sudden blow upon the cheek, the picture was snatched from his hand, and +Monty--his face convulsed with anger--glowered fiercely upon him. + +"You infernal young blackguard! You impertinent meddling blockhead! How +dare you presume to look at that photograph! How dare you, sir! How dare +you!" + +Trent was too thoroughly astonished to resent either the blow or the +fierce words. He looked up into his aggressor's face in blank surprise. + +"I only looked at it," he muttered. "It was lying on the floor." + +"Looked at it! You looked at it! Like your confounded impertinence, sir! +Who are you to look at her! If ever I catch you prying into my concerns +again, I'll shoot you--by Heaven I will!" + +Trent laughed sullenly, and, having finished eating, lit his pipe. + +"Your concerns are of no interest to me," he said shortly; "keep 'em to +yourself--and look here, old 'un, keep your hands off me! I ain't a safe +man to hit let me tell you. Now sit down and cool off! I don't want any +more of your tantrums." + +Then there was a long silence between the two men. Monty sat where Trent +had been earlier in the night at the front of the open hut, his eyes +fixed upon the ever-rising moon, his face devoid of intelligence, his +eyes dim. The fire of the last few minutes had speedily burnt out. His +half-soddened brain refused to answer to the sudden spasm of memory +which had awakened a spark of the former man. If he had thoughts at +all, they hung around that brandy bottle. The calm beauty of the African +night could weave no spell upon him. A few feet behind, Trent, by the +light of the moon, was practising tricks with a pack of greasy cards. +By and by a spark of intelligence found its way into Monty's brain. He +turned round furtively. + +"Trent," he said, "this is slow! Let us have a friendly game--you and +I." + +Trent yawned. + +"Come on, then," he said. "Single Poker or Euchre, eh?" + +"I do not mind," Monty replied affably. "Just which you prefer." + +"Single Poker, then," Trent said. + +"And the stakes?" + +"We've nothing left to play for," Trent answered gloomily, "except +cartridges." + +Monty made a wry face. "Poker for love, my dear Trent," he said, +"between you and me, would lack all the charm of excitement. It would +be, in fact, monotonous! Let us exercise our ingenuity. There must be +something still of value in our possession." + +He relapsed into an affectation of thoughtfulness. Trent watched him +curiously. He knew quite well that his partner was dissembling, but he +scarcely saw to what end. Monty's eyes, moving round the grass-bound +hut, stopped at Trent's knapsack which hung from the central pole. He +uttered a little exclamation. + +"I have it," he declared. "The very thing." + +"Well!" + +"You are pleased to set an altogether fictitious value upon half bottle +of brandy we have left," he said. "Now I tell you what I will do. In a +few months we shall both be rich men. I will play you for my I 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." + +He was watching Trent's face all the time, but the younger man gave +no sign. When he had finished, Trent took up the cards, which he had +shuffled for Poker, and dealt them out for Patience. Monty's eyes were +dim with disappointment. + +"What!" he cried. "You don't agree! Did you understand me? Fifty pounds, +Trent! Why, you must be mad!" + +"Oh, shut up!" Trent growled. "I don't want your money, and the brandy's +poison to you! Go to sleep!" + +Monty crept a little nearer to his partner and laid his hand upon his +arm. His shirt fell open, showing the cords of his throat swollen and +twitching. His voice was half a sob. + +"Trent, you are a young man--not old like me. You don't understand my +constitution. Brandy is a necessity to me! I've lived on it so long that +I shall die if you keep it from me. Remember, it's a whole day since I +tasted a drop! Now I'll make it a hundred. What do you say to that? One +hundred!" + +Trent paused in his game, and looked steadfastly into the eager face +thrust close to his. Then he shrugged his shoulders and gathered up the +cards. + +"You're the silliest fool I ever knew," he said bluntly, "but I suppose +you'll worry me into a fever if you don't have your own way." + +"You agree?" Monty shrieked. Trent nodded and dealt the cards. + +"It must be a show after the draw," he said. "We can't bet, for we've +nothing to raise the stakes with!" + +Monty was breathing hard and his fingers trembled, as though the ague of +the swamps was already upon him. He took up his cards one by one, and as +he snatched up the last he groaned. Not a pair! + +"Four cards," he whispered hoarsely. Trent dealt them out, looked at +his own hand, and, keeping a pair of queens, took three more cards. He +failed to improve, and threw them upon the floor. With frantic eagerness +Monty grovelled down to see them--then with a shriek of triumph he threw +down a pair of aces. + +"Mine!" he said. "I kept an ace and drew another. Give me the brandy!" + +Trent rose up, measured the contents of the bottle with his forefinger, +and poured out half the contents into a horn mug. Monty stood trembling +by. + +"Mind," Trent said, "you are a fool to drink it and I am a fool to let +you! You risk your life and mine. Sam has been up and swears we must +clear out to-morrow. What sort of form do you think you'll be in to walk +sixty miles through the swamps and bush, with perhaps a score of these +devils at our heels? Come now, old 'un, be reasonable." + +The veins on the old man's forehead stood out like whipcord. + +"I won it," he cried. "Give it me! Give it me, I say." + +Trent made no further protest. He walked back to where he had been +lying and recommenced his Patience. Monty drank off the contents of the +tumbler in two long, delicious gulps! Then he flung the horn upon the +floor and laughed aloud. + +"That's better," he cried, "that's better! What an ass you are, Trent! +To imagine that a drain like that would have any effect at all, save to +put life into a man! Bah! what do you know about it?" + +Trent did not raise his head. He went on with his solitary game and, to +all appearance, paid no heed to his companion's words. Monty was not in +the humour to be ignored. He flung himself on the ground opposite to his +companion. + +"What a slow-blooded sort of creature you are, Trent!" he said. "Don't +you ever drink, don't you ever take life a little more gaily?" + +"Not when I am carrying my life in my hands," Trent answered grimly. "I +get drunk sometimes--when there's nothing on and the blues come--never +at a time like this though." + +"It is pleasant to hear," the old man remarked, stretching out his +limbs, "that you do occasionally relax. In your present frame of +mind--you will not be offended I trust--you are just a little heavy as +a companion. Never mind. In a year's time I will be teaching you how to +dine--to drink champagne, to--by the way, Trent, have you ever tasted +champagne?" + +"Never," Trent answered gruffly "Don't know that I want to either." + +Monty was compassionate. "My young friend," he said, "I would give my +soul to have our future before us, to have your youth and never to have +tasted champagne. Phew! the memory of it is delicious!" + +"Why don't you go to bed?" Trent said. "You'll need all your strength +to-morrow!" + +Monty waved his hand with serene contempt. + +"I am a man of humours, my dear friend," he said, "and to-night my +humour is to talk and to be merry. What is it the philosophers tell +us?--that the sweetest joys of life are the joys of anticipation. Here +we are, then, on the eve of our triumph--let us talk, plan, be happy. +Bah! how thirsty it makes one! Come, Trent, what stake will you have me +set up against that other tumblerful of brandy." + +"No stake that you can offer," Trent answered shortly. "That drop of +brandy may stand between us and death. Pluck up your courage, man, and +forget for a bit that there is such a thing as drink." + +Monty frowned and looked stealthily across towards the bottle. + +"That's all very well, my friend," he said, "but kindly remember that +you are young, and well, and strong. I am old, and an invalid. I need +support. Don't be hard on me, Trent. Say fifty again. + +"No, nor fifty hundred," Trent answered shortly. "I don't want your +money. Don't be such a fool, or you'll never live to enjoy it." + +Monty shuffled on to his feet, and walked aimlessly about the hut. Once +or twice as he passed the place where the bottle rested, he hesitated; +at last he paused, his eyes lit up, he stretched out his hand +stealthily. But before he could possess himself of it Trent's hand was +upon his collar. + +"You poor fool!" he said; "leave it alone can't you? You want to poison +yourself I know. Well, you can do as you jolly well like when you are +out of this--not before." + +Monty's eyes flashed evil fires, but his tone remained persuasive. +"Trent," he said, "be reasonable. Look at me! I ask you now whether I +am not better for that last drop. I tell you that it is food and wine +to me. I need it to brace me up for to-morrow. Now listen! Name your own +stake! Set it up against that single glass! I am not a mean man, Trent. +Shall we say one hundred and fifty?" + +Trent looked at him half scornfully, half deprecatingly. + +"You are only wasting your breath, Monty," he said. "I couldn't touch +money won in such a way, and I want to get you out of this alive. +There's fever in the air all around us, and if either of us got a touch +of it that drop of brandy might stand between us and death. Don't worry +me like a spoilt child. Roll yourself up and get to sleep! I'll keep +watch." + +"I will be reasonable," Monty whined. "I will go to sleep, my friend, +and worry you no more when I have had just one sip of that brandy! It is +the finest medicine in the world for me! It will keep the fever off. You +do not want money you say! Come, is there anything in this world which I +possess, or may possess, which you will set against that three inches of +brown liquid?" + +Trent was on the point of an angry negative. Suddenly he +stopped--hesitated--and said nothing. Monty's face lit up with sudden +hope. + +"Come," he cried, "there is something I see! You're the right sort, +Trent. Don't be afraid to speak out. It's yours, man, if you win it. +Speak up!" + +"I will stake that brandy," Trent answered, "against the picture you let +fall from your pocket an hour ago." + + + +CHAPTER III + + +For a moment Monty stood as though dazed. Then the excitement which +had shone in his face slowly subsided. He stood quite silent, muttering +softly to himself, his eyes fixed upon Trent. + +"Her picture! My little girl's picture! Trent, you're joking, you're +mad!" + +"Am I?" Trent answered nonchalantly. "Perhaps so! Anyhow those are my +terms! You can play or not as you like! I don't care." + +A red spot burned in Monty's cheeks, and a sudden passion shook him. He +threw himself upon Trent and would have struck him but that he was as +a child in the younger man's grasp. Trent held him at a distance easily +and without effort. + +"There's nothing for you to make a fuss about," he said gruffly. "I +answered a plain question, that's all. I don't want to play at all. I +should most likely lose, and you're much better without the brandy." + +Monty was foaming with passion and baffled desire. "You beast!" he +cried, "you low, ill-bred cur! How dared you look at her picture! How +dare you make me such an offer! Let me go, I say! Let me go!" + +But Trent did not immediately relax his grasp. It was evidently not safe +to let him go. His fit of anger bordered upon hysterics. Presently he +grew calmer but more maudlin. Trent at last released him, and, thrusting +the bottle of brandy into his coat-pocket, returned to his game of +Patience. Monty lay on the ground watching him with red, shifty eyes. + +"Trent," he whimpered. But Trent did not answer him. + +"Trent, you needn't have been so beastly rough. My arm is black and blue +and I am sore all over." + +But Trent remained silent. Monty crept a little nearer. He was beginning +to feel a very injured person. + +"Trent," he said, "I'm sorry we've had words. Perhaps I said more than I +ought to have done. I did not mean to call you names. I apologise." + +"Granted," Trent said tersely, bending over his game. + +"You see, Trent," he went on, "you're not a family man, are you? If you +were, you would understand. I've been down in the mire for years, an +utter scoundrel, a poor, weak, broken-down creature. But I've always +kept that picture! It's my little girl! She doesn't know I'm alive, +never will know, but it's all I have to remind me of her, and I couldn't +part with it, could I?" + +"You'd be a blackguard if you did," Trent answered curtly. + +Monty's face brightened. + +"I was sure," he declared, "that upon reflection you would think so. +I was sure of it. I have always found you very fair, Trent, and very +reasonable. Now shall we say two hundred?" + +"You seem very anxious for a game," Trent remarked. "Listen, I will +play you for any amount you like, my I O U against your I O U. Are you +agreeable?" + +Monty shook his head. "I don't want your money, Trent," he said. "You +know that I want that brandy. I will leave it to you to name the stake I +am to set up against it." + +"As regards that," Trent answered shortly, "I've named the stake; I'll +not consider any other." + +Monty's face once more grew black with anger. + +"You are a beast, Trent--a bully!" he exclaimed passionately; "I'll not +part with it!" + +"I hope you won't," Trent answered. "I've told you what I should think +of you if you did." + +Monty moved a little nearer to the opening of the hut. He drew the +photograph hesitatingly from his pocket, and looked at it by the +moonlight. His eyes filled with maudlin tears. He raised it to his lips +and kissed it. + +"My little girl," he whispered. "My little daughter." Trent had re-lit +his pipe and started a fresh game of Patience. Monty, standing in the +opening, began to mutter to himself. + +"I am sure to win--Trent is always unlucky at cards--such a little risk, +and the brandy--ah!" + +He sucked in his lips for a moment with a slight gurgling sound. He +looked over his shoulder, and his face grew haggard with longing. His +eyes sought Trent's, but Trent was smoking stolidly and looking at the +cards spread out before him, as a chess-player at his pieces. + +"Such a very small risk," Monty whispered softly to himself. "I need the +brandy too. I cannot sleep without it! Trent!" + +Trent made no answer. He did not wish to hear. Already he had repented. +He was not a man of keen susceptibility, but he was a trifle ashamed of +himself. At that moment he was tempted to draw the cork, and empty the +brandy out upon the ground. + +"Trent! Do you hear, Trent?" + +He could no longer ignore the hoarse, plaintive cry. He looked +unwillingly up. Monty was standing over him with white, twitching face +and bloodshot eyes. + +"Deal the cards," he muttered simply, and sat down. + +Trent hesitated. Monty misunderstood him and slowly drew the photograph +from his pocket and laid it face downwards upon the table. Trent bit his +lip and frowned. + +"Rather a foolish game this," he said. "Let's call it off, eh? You shall +have--well, a thimbleful of the brandy and go to bed. I'll sit up, I'm +not tired." + +But Monty swore a very profane and a very ugly oath. + +"I'll have the lot," he muttered. "Every drop; every d--d drop! Ay, and +I'll keep the picture. You see, my friend, you see; deal the cards." + +Then Trent, who had more faults than most men, but who hated bad +language, looked at the back of the photograph, and, shuddering, +hesitated no longer. He shuffled the cards and handed them to Monty. + +"Your deal," he said laconically. "Same as before I suppose?" + +Monty nodded, for his tongue was hot and his mouth dry, and speech was +not an easy thing. But he dealt the cards, one by one with jealous care, +and when he had finished he snatched upon his own, and looked at each +with sickly disappointment. + +"How many?" Trent asked, holding out the pack. Monty hesitated, half +made up his mind to throw away three cards, then put one upon the table. +Finally, with a little whine, he laid three down with trembling fingers +and snatched at the three which Trent handed him. His face lit up, a +scarlet flush burned in his cheek. It was evident that the draw had +improved his hand. + +Trent took his own cards up, looked at them nonchalantly, and helped +himself to one card. Monty could restrain himself no longer. He threw +his hand upon the ground. + +"Three's," he cried in fierce triumph, "three of a kind--nines!" + +Trent laid his own cards calmly down. + +"A full hand," he said, "kings up." + +Monty gave a little gasp and then a moan. His eyes were fixed with a +fascinating glare upon those five cards which Trent had so calmly laid +down. Trent took up the photograph, thrust it carefully into his pocket +without looking at it, and rose to his feet. + +"Look here, Monty," he said, "you shall have the brandy; you've no right +to it, and you're best without it by long chalks. But there, you shall +have your own way." + +Monty rose to his feet and balanced himself against the post. + +"Never mind--about the brandy," he faltered. "Give me back the +photograph." + +Trent shrugged his shoulders. "Why?" he asked coolly. "Full hand beats +three, don't it? It was my win and my stake." + +"Then--then take that!" But the blow never touched Trent. He thrust out +his hand and held his assailant away at arm's length. + +Monty burst into tears. + +"You don't want it," he moaned; "what's my little girl to you? You never +saw her, and you never will see her in your life." + +"She is nothing to me of course," Trent answered. "A moment or so ago +her picture was worth less to you than a quarter of a bottle of brandy." + +"I was mad," Monty moaned. "She was my own little daughter, God help +her!" + +"I never heard you speak of her before," Trent remarked. + +There was a moment's silence. Then Monty crept out between the posts +into the soft darkness, and his voice seemed to come from a great +distance. + +"I have never told you about her," he said, "because she is not the sort +of woman who is spoken of at all to such men as you. I am no more worthy +to be her father than you are to touch the hem of her skirt. There was +a time, Trent, many, many years ago, when I was proud to think that she +was my daughter, my own flesh and blood. When I began to go down--it +was different. Down and down and lower still! Then she ceased to be my +daughter! After all it is best. I am not fit to carry her picture. You +keep it. Trent--you keep it--and give me the brandy." + +He staggered up on to his feet and crept back into the hut. His hands +were outstretched, claw-like and bony, his eyes were fierce as a wild +cat's. But Trent stood between him and the brandy bottle. + +"Look here," he said, "you shall have the picture back--curse you! But +listen. If I were you and had wife, or daughter, or sweetheart like this +"--he touched the photograph almost reverently--"why, I'd go through +fire and water but I'd keep myself decent; ain't you a silly old fool, +now? We've made our piles, you can go back and take her a fortune, give +her jewels and pretty dresses, and all the fal-de-lals that women love. +You'll never do it if you muddle yourself up with that stuff. Pull +yourself together, old 'un. Chuck the drink till we've seen this thing +through at any rate!" + +"You don't know my little girl," Monty muttered. "How should you? She'd +care little for money or gewgaws, but she'd break her heart to see her +old father--come to this--broken down--worthless--a hopeless, miserable +wretch. It's too late. Trent, I'll have just a glass I think. It will do +me good. I have been fretting, Trent, you see how pale I am." + +He staggered towards the bottle. Trent watched him, interfering no +longer. With a little chuckle of content he seized upon it and, too +fearful of interference from Trent to wait for a glass, raised it to his +lips. There was a gurgling in his throat--a little spasm as he choked, +and released his lips for a moment. Then the bottle slid from his +nerveless fingers to the floor, and the liquor oozed away in a little +brown stream; even Trent dropped his pack of cards and sprang up +startled. For bending down under the sloping roof was a European, to all +appearance an Englishman, in linen clothes and white hat. It was the man +for whom they had waited. + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Trent moved forward and greeted the newcomer awkwardly. "You're Captain +Francis," he said. "We've been waiting for you." + +The statement appeared to annoy the Explorer. He looked nervously at the +two men and about the hut. + +"I don't know how the devil you got to hear of my coming, or what you +want with me," he answered brusquely. "Are you both English?" + +Trent assented, waving his hand towards his companion in introductory +fashion. + +"That's my pal, Monty," he said. "We're both English right enough." + +Monty raised a flushed face and gazed with bloodshot eyes at the man +who was surveying him so calmly. Then he gave a little gurgling cry and +turned away. Captain Francis started and moved a step towards him. There +was a puzzled look in his face--as though he were making an effort to +recall something familiar. + +"What is the matter with him?" he asked Trent. + +"Drink!" + +"Then why the devil don't you see that he doesn't get too much?" the +newcomer said sharply. "Don't you know what it means in this climate? +Why, he's on the high-road to a fever now. Who on this earth is it he +reminds me of?" + +Trent laughed shortly. + +"There's never a man in Buckomari--no, nor in all Africa--could keep +Monty from the drink," he said. "Live with him for a month and try it. +It wouldn't suit you--I don't think." + +He glanced disdainfully at the smooth face and careful dress of their +visitor, who bore the inspection with a kindly return of contempt. + +"I've no desire to try," he said; "but he reminds me very strongly of +some one I knew in England. What do you call him--Monty?" + +Trent nodded. + +"Never heard any other name," he said. + +"Have you ever heard him speak of England?" Francis asked. + +Trent hesitated. What was this newcomer to him that he should give away +his pal? Less than nothing! He hated the fellow already, with a rough, +sensitive man's contempt of a bearing and manners far above his own. + +"Never. He don't talk." + +Captain Francis moved a step towards the huddled-up figure breathing +heavily upon the floor, but Trent, leaning over, stopped him. + +"Let him be," he said gruffly. "I know enough of him to be sure that he +needs no one prying and ferreting into his affairs. Besides, it isn't +safe for us to be dawdling about here. How many soldiers have you +brought with you?" + +"Two hundred," Captain Francis answered shortly. + +Trent whistled. + +"We're all right for a bit, then," he said; "but it's a pretty sort of a +picnic you're on, eh?" + +"Never mind my business," Captain Francis answered curtly; "what about +yours? Why have you been hanging about here for me?" + +"I'll show you," Trent answered, taking a paper from his knapsack. "You +see, it's like this. There are two places near this show where I've +found gold. No use blowing about it down at Buckomari--the fellows there +haven't the nerve of a kitten. This cursed climate has sapped it all out +of them, I reckon. Monty and I clubbed together and bought presents +for his Majesty, the boss here, and Monty wrote out this little +document--sort of concession to us to sink mines and work them, you see. +The old buffer signed it like winking, directly he spotted the rum, but +we ain't quite happy about it; you see, it ain't to be supposed that +he's got a conscience, and there's only us saw him put his mark there. +We'll have to raise money to work the thing upon this, and maybe +there'll be difficulties. So what we thought was this. Here's an English +officer 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." + +Captain Francis lit a cigarette and smoked thoughtfully for a moment or +two. + +"I don't quite see," he said, "why we should risk a row for the sake of +you two." + +Trent snorted. + +"Look here," he said; "I suppose you know your business. You don't +want me to tell you that a decent excuse for having a row with this old +Johnny is about the best thing that could happen to you. He's a bit too +near the borders of civilisation to be a decent savage. Sooner or later +some one will have to take him under their protection. If you don't +do it, the French will. They're hanging round now looking out for an +opportunity. Listen!" + +Both men moved instinctively towards the open part of the hut and looked +across towards the village. Up from the little open space in front +of the King's dwelling-house leaped a hissing bright flame; they +had kindled a fire, and black forms of men, stark naked and wounding +themselves with spears, danced around it and made the air hideous with +discordant cries. The King himself, too drunk to stand, squatted upon +the ground with an empty bottle by his side. A breath of wind brought a +strong, noxious odour to the two men who stood watching. Captain Francis +puffed hard at his cigarette. + +"Ugh!" he muttered; "beastly!" + +"You may take my word for it," Trent said gruffly, "that if your two +hundred soldiers weren't camped in the bush yonder, you and I and poor +Monty would be making sport for them to-night. Now come. Do you think a +quarrel with that crew is a serious thing to risk?" + +"In the interests of civilisation," Captain Francis answered, with a +smile, "I think not." + +"I don't care how you put it," Trent answered shortly. "You soldiers all +prate of the interests of civilisation. Of course it's all rot. You want +the land--you want to rule, to plant a flag, and be called a patriot." + +Captain Francis laughed. "And you, my superior friend," he said, +glancing at Trent, gaunt, ragged, not too clean, and back at Monty--"you +want gold--honestly if you can get it, if not--well, it is not too wise +to ask. Your partnership is a little mysterious, isn't it--with a man +like that? Out of your magnificent morality I trust that he may get his +share." + +Trent flushed a brick-red. An angry answer trembled upon his lips, but +Oom Sam, white and with his little fat body quivering with fear, came +hurrying up to them in the broad track of the moonlight. + +"King he angry," he called out to them breathlessly. "Him mad drunk +angry. He say white men all go away, or he fire bush and use the +poisoned arrow. Me off! Got bearers waiting." + +"If you go before we've finished," Trent said, "I'll not pay you a +penny. Please yourself." + +The little fat man trembled--partly with rage, partly with fear. + +"You stay any longer," he said, "and King him send after you and kill on +way home. White English soldiers go Buckomari with you?" + +Trent shook his head. + +"Going the other way," he said, "down to Wana Hill." + +Oom Sam shook his head vigorously. + +"Now you mind," he said; "I tell you, King send after you. Him blind +mad." + +Oom Sam scuttled away. Captain Francis looked thoughtful. "That little +fat chap may be right," he remarked. "If I were you I'd get out of this +sharp. You see, I'm going the other way. I can't help you." + +Trent set his teeth. + +"I've spent a good few years trying to put a bit together, and this is +the first chance I've had," he said; "I'm going to have you back me as +a British subject on that concession. We'll go down into the village now +if you're ready." + +"I'll get an escort," Francis said. "Best to impress 'em a bit, I think. +Half a minute." + +He stepped back into the hut and looked steadfastly at the man who was +still lying doubled up upon the floor. Was it his fancy, or had those +eyes closed swiftly at his turning--was it by accident, too, that Monty, +with a little groan, changed his position at that moment, so that his +face was in the shadow? Captain Francis was puzzled. + +"It's like him," he said to himself softly; "but after all the thing's +too improbable!" + +He turned away with a shade upon his face and followed Trent out into +the moonlight. The screeching from the village below grew louder and +more hideous every minute. + + + +CHAPTER V + + +The howls became a roar, blind passion was changed into purposeful fury. +Who were these white men to march so boldly into the presence of the +King without even the formality of sending an envoy ahead? For the King +of Bekwando, drunk or sober, was a stickler for etiquette. It pleased +him to keep white men waiting. For days sometimes a visitor was kept +waiting his pleasure, not altogether certain either as to his ultimate +fate, for there were ugly stories as to those who had journeyed to +Bekwando and never been seen or heard of since. Those were the sort of +visitors with whom his ebon Majesty loved to dally until they became +pale with fright or furious with anger and impatience; but men like this +white captain, who had brought him no presents, who came in overwhelming +force and demanded a passage through his country as a matter of right +were his special detestation. On his arrival he had simply marched into +the place at the head of his columns of Hausas without ceremony, almost +as a master, into the very presence of the King. Now he had come again +with one of those other miscreants who at least had knelt before him and +brought rum and many other presents. A slow, burning, sullen wrath was +kindled in the King's heart as the three men drew near. His people, +half-mad with excitement and debauch, needed only a cry from him to have +closed like magic round these insolent intruders. His thick lips were +parted, his breath came hot and fierce whilst he hesitated. But away +outside the clearing was that little army of Hausas, clean-limbed, +faithful, well drilled and armed. He choked down his wrath. There were +grim stories about those who had yielded to the luxury of slaying these +white men--stories of villages razed to the ground and destroyed, of +a King himself who had been shot, of vengeance very swift and very +merciless. He closed his mouth with a snap and sat up with drunken +dignity. Oom Sam, in fear and trembling, moved to his side. + +"What they want?" the King asked. + +Oom Sam spread out the document which Trent had handed him upon a +tree-stump, and explained. His Majesty nodded more affably. The document +reminded him of the pleasant fact that there were three casks of rum to +come to him every year. Besides, he rather liked scratching his royal +mark upon the smooth, white paper. He was quite willing to repeat the +performance, and took up the pen which Sam handed him readily. + +"Him white man just come," Oom Sam explained; "want see you do this." + +His Majesty was flattered, and, with the air of one to whom the signing +of treaties and concessions is an everyday affair, affixed a thick, +black cross upon the spot indicated. + +"That all right?" he asked Oom Sam. + +Oom Sam bowed to the ground. + +"Him want to know," he said, jerking his head towards Captain Francis, +"whether you know what means?" + +His forefinger wandered aimlessly down the document. His Majesty's reply +was prompt and cheerful. + +"Three barrels of rum a year." + +Sam explained further. "There will be white men come digging," he said; +"white men with engines that blow, making holes under the ground and +cutting trees." + +The King was interested. "Where?" he asked. + +Oom Sam pointed westward through the bush. + +"Down by creek-side." + +The King was thoughtful "Rum come all right?" he asked. + +Oom Sam pointed to the papers. + +"Say so there," he declared. "All quite plain." + +The King grinned. It was not regal, but he certainly did it. If white +men come too near they must be shot--carefully and from ambush. He +leaned back with the air of desiring the conference to cease. Oom Sam +turned to Captain Francis. + +"King him quite satisfied," he declared. "Him all explained before--he +agree." + +The King suddenly woke up again. He clutched Sam by the arm, and +whispered in his ear. This time it was Sam who grinned. + +"King, him say him signed paper twice," he explained. "Him want four +barrels of rum now." + +Trent laughed harshly. + +"He shall swim in it, Sam," he said; "he shall float down to hell upon +it." + +Oom Sam explained to the King that, owing to the sentiments of affection +and admiration with which the white men regarded him, the three barrels +should be made into four, whereupon his Majesty bluntly pronounced the +audience at an end and waddled off into his Imperial abode. + +The two Englishmen walked slowly back to the hut. Between them there had +sprung up from the first moment a strong and mutual antipathy. The blunt +savagery of Trent, his apparently heartless treatment of his weaker +partner, and his avowed unscrupulousness, offended the newcomer much in +the same manner as in many ways he himself was obnoxious to Trent. His +immaculate fatigue-uniform, his calm superciliousness, his obvious air +of belonging to a superior class, were galling to Trent beyond measure. +He himself felt the difference--he realised his ignorance, his unkempt +and uncared-for appearance. Perhaps, as the two men walked side by side, +some faint foreshadowing of the future showed to Trent another and +a larger world where they two would once more walk side by side, the +outward differences between them lessened, the smouldering irritation of +the present leaping up into the red-hot flame of hatred. Perhaps it was +just as well for John Francis that the man who walked so sullenly by +his side had not the eyes of a seer, for it was a wild country and Trent +himself had drunk deep of its lawlessness. A little accident with a +knife, a carelessly handled revolver, and the man who was destined to +stand more than once in his way would pass out of his life for ever. But +in those days Trent knew nothing of what was to come--which was just as +well for John Francis. + + * * * * * + +Monty was sitting up when they reached the hut, but at the sight of +Trent's companion he cowered back and affected sleepiness. This time, +however, Francis was not to be denied. He walked to Monty's side, and +stood looking down upon him. + +"I think," he said gently, "that we have met before." + +"A mistake," Monty declared. "Never saw you in my life. Just off to +sleep." + +But Francis had seen the trembling of the man's lips, and his nervously +shaking hands. + +"There is nothing to fear," he said; "I wanted to speak to you as a +friend." + +"Don't know you; don't want to speak to you," Monty declared. + +Francis stooped down and whispered a name in the ear of the sullen man. +Trent leaned forward, but he could not hear it--only he too saw the +shudder and caught the little cry which broke from the white lips of his +partner. + +Monty sat up, white, despairing, with strained, set face and bloodshot +eyes. + +"Look here," he said, "I may be what you say, and I may not. It's no +business of yours. Do you hear? Now be off and leave me alone! Such as +I am, I am. I won't be interfered with. But--" Monty's voice became a +shriek. + +"Leave me alone!" he cried. "I have no name I tell you, no past, no +future. Let me alone, or by Heaven I'll shoot you!" + +Francis shrugged his shoulders, and turned away with a sigh. + +"A word with you outside," he said to Trent--and Trent followed him +out into the night. The moon was paling--in the east there was a faint +shimmer of dawn. A breeze was rustling in the trees. The two men stood +face to face. + +"Look here, sir," Francis said, "I notice that this concession of yours +is granted to you and your partner jointly whilst alive and to the +survivor, in case of the death of either of you." + +"What then?" Trent asked fiercely. + +"This! It's a beastly unfair arrangement, but I suppose it's too late to +upset it. Your partner is half sodden with drink now. You know what that +means in this climate. You've the wit to keep sober enough yourself. +You're a strong man, and he is weak. You must take care of him. You can +if you will." + +"Anything else?" Trent asked roughly. + +The officer looked his man up and down. + +"We're in a pretty rough country," he said, "and a man gets into the +habit of having his own way here. But listen to me! If anything happens +to your partner here or in Buckomari, you'll have me to reckon with. I +shall not forget. We are bound to meet! Remember that!" + +Trent turned his back upon him in a fit of passion which choked down all +speech. Captain Francis lit a cigarette and walked across towards his +camp. + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +A sky like flame, and an atmosphere of sulphur. No breath of air, not +a single ruffle in the great, drooping leaves of the African trees and +dense, prickly shrubs. All around the dank, nauseous odour of poison +flowers, the ceaseless dripping of poisonous moisture. From the face of +the man who stood erect, unvanquished as yet in the struggle for life, +the fierce sweat poured like rain--his older companion had sunk to the +ground and the spasms of an ugly death were twitching at his whitening +lips. + +"I'm done, Trent," he gasped faintly. "Fight your way on alone. You've +a chance yet. The way's getting a bit easier--I fancy we're on the right +track and we've given those black devils the slip! Nurse your strength! +You've a chance! Let me be. It's no use carrying a dead man." Gaunt and +wild, with the cold fear of death before him also, the younger man broke +out into a fit of cursing. + +"May they rot in the blackest corner of hell, Oom Sam and those +miserable vermin!" he shouted. "A path all the way, the fever season +over, the swamps dry! Oh! when I think of Sam's smooth jargon I would +give my chance of life, such as it is, to have him here for one moment. +To think that beast must live and we die!" + +"Prop me up against this tree, Trent--and listen," Monty whispered. +"Don't fritter away the little strength you have left." + +Trent did as he was told. He had no particular affection for his partner +and the prospect of his death scarcely troubled him. Yet for twenty +miles and more, through fetid swamps and poisoned jungles, he had +carried him over his shoulder, fighting fiercely for the lives of both +of them, while there remained any chance whatever of escape. Now he knew +that it was in vain, he regretted only his wasted efforts--he had no +sentimental regrets in leaving him. It was his own life he wanted--his +own life he meant to fight for. + +"I wouldn't swear at Oom Sam too hard," Monty continued. "Remember for +the last two days he was doing all he could to get us out of the +place. It was those fetish fellows who worked the mischief and +he--certainly--warned us all he could. He took us safely to Bekwando and +he worked the oracle with the King!" + +"Yes, and afterwards sneaked off with Francis," Trent broke in bitterly, +"and took every bearer with him--after we'd paid them for the return +journey too. Sent us out here to be trapped and butchered like rats. If +we'd only had a guide we should have been at Buckomari by now." + +"He was right about the gold," Monty faltered. "It's there for the +picking up. If only we could have got back we were rich for life. If you +escape--you need never do another stroke of work as long as you live." + +Trent stood upright, wiped the dank sweat from his forehead and gazed +around him fiercely, and upwards at that lurid little patch of blue sky. + +"If I escape!" he muttered. "I'll get out of this if I die walking. I'm +sorry you're done, Monty," he continued slowly. "Say the word and I'll +have one more spell at carrying you! You're not a heavy weight and I'm +rested now!" + +But Monty, in whose veins was the chill of death and who sought only for +rest, shook his head. + +"It shakes me too much," he said, "and it's only a waste of strength. +You get on, Trent, and don't you bother about me. You've done your duty +by your partner and a bit more. You might leave me the small revolver in +case those howling savages come up--and Trent!" + +"Yes--" + +"The picture--just for a moment. I'd like to have one look at her!" + +Trent drew it out from his pocket--awkwardly--and with a little shame +at the care which had prompted him to wrap it so tenderly in the oilskin +sheet. Monty shaded his face with his hands, and the picture stole up +to his lips. Trent stood a little apart and hated himself for this +last piece of inhumanity. He pretended to be listening for the stealthy +approach of their enemies. In reality he was struggling with the feeling +which prompted him to leave this picture with the dying man. + +"I suppose you'd best have it," he said sullenly at last. + +But Monty shook his head feebly and held out the picture. + +Trent took it with an odd sense of shame which puzzled him. He was not +often subject to anything of the sort. + +"It belongs to you, Trent. I lost it on the square, and it's the only +social law I've never broken--to pay my gambling debts. There's one word +more!" + +"Yes." + +"It's about that clause in our agreement. I never thought it was quite +fair, you know, Trent!" + +"Which clause?" + +"The clause which--at my death--makes you sole owner of the whole +concession. You see--the odds were scarcely even, were they? It wasn't +likely anything would happen to you!" + +"I planned the thing," Trent said, "and I saw it through! You did +nothing but find a bit of brass. It was only square that the odds should +be in my favour. Besides, you agreed. You signed the thing." + +"But I wasn't quite well at the time," Monty faltered. "I didn't quite +understand. No, Trent, it's not quite fair. I did a bit of the work at +least, and I'm paying for it with my life!" + +"What's it matter to you now?" Trent said, with unintentional brutality. +"You can't take it with you." + +Monty raised himself a little. His eyes, lit with feverish fire, were +fastened upon the other man. + +"There's my little girl!" he said hoarsely. "I'd like to leave her +something. If the thing turns out big, Trent, you can spare a small +share. There's a letter here! It's to my lawyers. They'll tell you all +about her." + +Trent held out his hands for the letter. + +"All right," he said, with sullen ungraciousness. "I'll promise +something. I won't say how much! We'll see." + +"Trent, you'll keep your word," Monty begged. "I'd like her to know that +I thought of her." + +"Oh, very well," Trent declared, thrusting the letter into his pocket. +"It's a bit outside our agreement, you know, but I'll see to it anyhow. +Anything else?" + +Monty fell back speechless. There was a sudden change in his face. +Trent, who had seen men die before, let go his hand and turned away +without any visible emotion. Then he drew himself straight, and set his +teeth hard together. + +"I'm going to get out of this," he said to himself slowly and with +fierce emphasis. "I'm not for dying and I won't die!" + +He stumbled on a few steps, a little black snake crept out of its bed +of mud, and looked at him with yellow eyes protruding from its upraised +head. He kicked it savagely away--a crumpled, shapeless mass. It was a +piece of brutality typical of the man. Ahead he fancied that the air was +clearer--the fetid mists less choking--in the deep night-silence a few +hours back he had fancied that he had heard the faint thunder of the +sea. If this were indeed so, it would be but a short distance now to the +end of his journey. With dull, glazed eyes and clenched hands, he reeled +on. A sort of stupor had laid hold of him, but through it all his brain +was working, and he kept steadily to a fixed course. Was it the sea in +his ears, he wondered, that long, monotonous rolling of sound, and there +were lights before his eyes--the lights of Buckomari, or the lights of +death! + +They found him an hour or two later unconscious, but alive, on the +outskirts of the village. + + +Three days later two men were seated face to face in a long wooden +house, the largest and most important in Buckomari village. + +Smoking a corn-cob pipe and showing in his face but few marks of the +terrible days through which he had passed was Scarlett Trent--opposite +to him was Hiram Da Souza, the capitalist of the region. The Jew--of Da +Souza's nationality it was impossible to have any doubt--was coarse and +large of his type, he wore soiled linen clothes and was smoking a black +cigar. On the little finger of each hand, thickly encrusted with dirt, +was a diamond ring, on his thick, protruding lips a complacent smile. +The concession, already soiled and dog-eared, was spread out before +them. + +It was Da Souza who did most of the talking. Trent indeed had the +appearance of a man only indirectly interested in the proceedings. + +"You see, my dear sir," Da Souza was saying, "this little concession +of yours is, after all, a very risky business. These niggers have +absolutely no sense honour. Do I not know it--alas--to my cost?" + +Trent listened in contemptuous silence. Da Souza had made a fortune +trading fiery rum on the Congo and had probably done more to debauch the +niggers he spoke of so bitterly than any man in Africa. + +"The Bekwando people have a bad name--very bad name. As for any sense of +commercial honour--my dear Trent, one might as well expect diamonds to +spring up like mushrooms under our feet." + +"The document," Trent said, "is signed by the King and witnessed by +Captain Francis, who is Agent-General out here, or something of the +sort, for the English Government. It was no gift and don't you think +it, but a piece of hard bartering. Forty bearers carried our presents to +Bekwando and it took us three months to get through. There is enough in +it to make us both millionaires. + +"Then why," Da Souza asked, looking up with twinkling eyes, "do you want +to sell me a share in it?" + +"Because I haven't a darned cent to bless myself with," Trent answered +curtly. "I've got to have ready money. I've never had my fist on five +thousand pounds before--no, nor five thousand pence, but, as I'm a +living man, let me have my start and I'll hold my own with you all." + +Da Souza threw himself back in his chair with uplifted hands. + +"But my dear friend," he cried, "my dear young friend, you were not +thinking--do not say that you were thinking of asking such a sum as five +thousand pounds for this little piece of paper!" + +The amazement, half sorrowful, half reproachful, on the man's face was +perfectly done. But Trent only snorted. + +"That piece of paper, as you call it, cost us the hard savings of years, +it cost us weeks and months in the bush and amongst the swamps--it cost +a man's life, not to mention the niggers we lost. Come, I'm not here to +play skittles. Are you on for a deal or not? If you're doubtful about it +I've another market. Say the word and we'll drink and part, but if +you want to do business, here are my terms. Five thousand for a sixth +share!" + +"Sixth share," the Jew screamed, "sixth share?" + +Trent nodded. + +"The thing's worth a million at least," he said. "A sixth share is a +great fortune. Don't waste any time turning up the whites of your eyes +at me. I've named my terms and I shan't budge from them. You can lay +your bottom dollar on that." + +Da Souza took up the document and glanced it through once more. + +"The concession," he remarked, "is granted to Scarlett Trent and to one +Monty jointly. Who is this Monty, and what has he to say to it?" + +Trent set his teeth hard, and he never blenched. + +"He was my partner, but he died in the swamps, poor chap. We had +horrible weather coming back. It pretty near finished me." + +Trent did not mention the fact that for four days and nights they were +hiding in holes and up trees from the natives whom the King of Bekwando +had sent after them, that their bearers had fled away, and that they had +been compelled to leave the track and make their way through an unknown +part of the bush. + +"But your partner's share," the Jew asked. "What of that?" + +"It belongs to me," Trent answered shortly. "We fixed it so before we +started. We neither of us took much stock in our relations. If I had +died, Monty would have taken the lot. It was a fair deal. You'll find it +there!" + +The Jew nodded. + +"And your partner?" he said. "You saw him die! There is no doubt about +that?" + +Trent nodded. + +"He is as dead," he said, "as Julius Caesar." + +"If I offered you--" Da Souza began. + +"If you offered me four thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine pounds," +Trent interrupted roughly, "I would tell you to go to glory." + +Da Souza sighed. It was a hard man to deal with--this. + +"Very well," he said, "if I give way, if I agree to your terms, you will +be willing to make over this sixth share to me, both on your own account +and on account of your late partner?" + +"You're right, mate," Trent assented. "Plank down the brass, and it's a +deal." + +"I will give you four thousand pounds for a quarter share," Da Souza +said. + +Trent knocked the ashes from his pipe and stood up. + +"Here, don't waste any more of my time," he said. "Stand out of the way, +I'm off." + +Da Souza kept his hands upon the concession. + +"My dear friend," he said, "you are so violent. You are so abrupt. Now +listen. I will give you five thousand for a quarter share. It is half my +fortune." + +"Give me the concession," Trent said. "I'm off." + +"For a fifth," Da Souza cried. + +Trent moved to the door without speech. Da Souza groaned. + +"You will ruin me," he said, "I know it. Come then, five thousand for a +sixth share. It is throwing money away." + +"If you think so, you'd better not part," Trent said, still lingering in +the doorway. "Just as you say. I don't care." + +For a full 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. + +"Come back, Mr. Trent," he called out. "I have decided. I accept. I join +with you." + +Trent slowly returned. His manner showed no exultation. + +"You have the money here?" he asked. + +Da Souza laid down a heap of notes and gold upon the table. Trent +counted them carefully and thrust them into his pocket. Then he took up +a pen and wrote his name at the foot of the assignment which the Jew had +prepared. + +"Have a drink?" he asked. + +Da Souza shook his head. + +"The less we drink in this country," he said, "the better. I guess out +here, spirits come next to poison. I'll smoke with you, if you have a +cigar handy." + +Trent drew a handful of cigars from his pocket. "They're beastly," he +said, "but it's a beastly country. I'll be glad to turn my back on it." + +"There is a good deal," Da Souza said, "which we must now talk about." + +"To-morrow," Trent said curtly. "No more now! I haven't got over my +miserable journey yet. I'm going to try and get some sleep." + +He swung out into the heavy darkness. The air was thick with unwholesome +odours rising from the lake-like swamp beyond the drooping circle of +trees. He walked a little way towards the sea, and sat down upon a log. +A faint land-breeze was blowing, a melancholy soughing came from +the edge of the forest only a few hundred yards back, sullen, +black, impenetrable. He turned his face inland unwillingly, with a +superstitious little thrill of fear. Was it a coyote calling, or had he +indeed heard the moan of a dying man, somewhere back amongst that dark, +gloomy jungle? He scoffed at himself! Was he becoming as a girl, weak +and timid? Yet a moment later he closed his eyes, and pressed his hands +tightly over his hot eyeballs. He was a man of little imaginative force, +yet the white face of a dying man seemed suddenly to have floated up out +of the darkness, to have come to him like a will-o'-the-wisp from the +swamp, and the hollow, lifeless eyes seemed ever to be seeking his, +mournful and eloquent with dull reproach. Trent rose to his feet with +an oath and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He was trembling, and he +cursed himself heartily. + +"Another fool's hour like this," he muttered, "and the fever will +have me. Come out of the shadows, you white-faced, skulking reptile, +you--bah! what a blithering fool I am! There is no one there! How could +there be any one?" + +He listened intently. From afar off came the faint moaning of the wind +in the forest and the night sounds of restless animals. Nearer there was +no one--nothing stirred. He laughed out loud and moved away to spend his +last night in his little wooden home. On the threshold he paused, and +faced once more that black, mysterious line of forest. + +"Well, I've done with you now," he cried, a note of coarse exultation in +his tone. "I've gambled for my life and I've won. To-morrow I'll begin +to spend the stakes." + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +In a handsomely appointed room of one of the largest hotels in London +a man was sitting at the head of a table strewn with blotting-paper and +writing materials of every description. Half a dozen chairs had been +carelessly pushed back, there were empty champagne bottles upon the +sideboard, the air was faintly odorous of tobacco smoke--blue wreaths +were still curling upwards towards the frescoed ceiling. Yet the +gathering had not been altogether a festive one. There were sheets of +paper still lying about covered with figures, a brass-bound ledger lay +open at the further end of the table, In the background a young man, +slim, pale, ill-dressed in sober black, was filling a large tin box with +documents and letters. + +It had been a meeting of giants. Men whose names were great in the world +of finance had occupied those elaborately decorated leather chairs. +There had been cynicism, criticism, and finally enthusiasm. For the man +who remained it had been a triumph. He had appeared to do but little in +the way of persuasion. His manners had been brusque, and his words had +been few. Yet he remained the master of the situation. He had gained +a victory not only financial but moral, over men whose experience and +knowledge were far greater than his. He was no City magnate, nor had he +ever received any training in those arts and practices which go to the +making of one. For his earlier life had been spent in a wilder country +where the gambling was for life and not merely for gold. It was Scarlett +Trent who sat there in thoughtful and absorbed silence. He was leaning a +little back in a comfortably upholstered chair, with his eyes fixed on +a certain empty spot upon the table. The few inches of polished mahogany +seemed to him--empty of all significance in themselves--to be reflecting +in some mysterious manner certain scenes in his life which were now +very rarely brought back to him. The event of to-day he knew to be the +culmination of a success as rapid as it had been surprising. He was a +millionaire. This deal to-day, in which he had held his own against the +shrewdest and most astute men of the great city, had more than doubled +his already large fortune. A few years ago he had landed in England +friendless and unknown, to-day he had stepped out from even amongst +the chosen few and had planted his feet in the higher lands whither +the faces of all men are turned. With a grim smile upon his lips, he +recalled one by one the various enterprises into which he had entered, +the courage with which he had forced them through, the solid strength +with which he had thrust weaker men to the wall and had risen a little +higher towards his goal upon the wreck of their fortunes. Where other +men had failed he had succeeded. To-day the triumph was his alone. He +was a millionaire--one of the princes of the world! + +The young man, who had filled his box and also a black bag, was ready +to go. He ventured most respectfully to break in upon the reflections of +his employer. + +"Is there anything more for me to do, sir?" + +Trent woke from his day-dream into the present. He looked around the +room and saw that no papers had been omitted. Then he glanced keenly +into his clerk's face. + +"Nothing more," he said. "You can go." + +It was significant of the man that, notwithstanding his hour of triumph, +he did not depart in the slightest degree from the cold gruffness of his +tone. The little speech which his clerk had prepared seemed to stick in +his throat. + +"I trust, sir, that you will forgive--that you will pardon the liberty, +if I presume to congratulate you upon such a magnificent stroke of +business!" + +Scarlett Trent faced him coldly. "What do you know about it?" he asked. +"What concern is it of yours, young man, eh?" + +The clerk sighed, and became a little confused. He had indulged in +some wistful hopes that for once his master might have relaxed, that an +opportune word of congratulation might awaken some spark of generosity +in the man who had just added a fortune to his great store. He had a +girl-wife from whose cheeks the roses were slowly fading, and very +soon would come a time when a bank-note, even the smallest, would be a +priceless gift. It was for her sake he had spoken. He saw now that he +had made a mistake. + +"I am very sorry, sir," he said humbly. "Of course I know that these men +have paid an immense sum for their shares in the Bekwando Syndicate. At +the same time it is not my business, and I am sorry that I spoke." + +"It is not your business at any time to remember what I receive for +properties," Scarlett Trent said roughly. "Haven't I told you that +before? What did I say when you came to me? You were to hear nothing and +see nothing outside your duties! Speak up, man! Don't stand there like a +jay!" + +The clerk was pale, and there was an odd sensation in his throat. But he +thought of his girl-wife and he pulled himself together. + +"You are quite right, sir," he said. "To any one else I should +never have mentioned it. But we were alone, and I thought that the +circumstances might make it excusable." + +His employer grunted in an ominous manner. + +"When I say forget, I mean forget," he declared. "I don't want to be +reminded by you of my own business. D'ye think I don't know it?" + +"I am very sure that you do, sir," the clerk answered humbly. "I quite +see that my allusion was an error." + +Scarlett Trent had turned round in his chair, and was eying the pale, +nervous figure with a certain hard disapproval. + +"That's a beastly coat you've got on, Dickenson," he said. "Why don't +you get a new one?" + +"I am standing in a strong light, sir," the young man answered, with a +new fear at his heart. "It wants brushing, too. I will endeavour to get +a new one--very shortly." + +His employer grunted again. + +"What's your salary?" he asked. + +"Two pounds fifteen shillings a week, sir." + +"And you mean to say that you can't dress respectably on that? What do +you do with your money, eh? How do you spend it? Drink and music-halls, +I suppose!" + +The young man was able at last to find some spark of dignity. A pink +spot burned upon his cheeks. + +"I do not attend music-halls, sir, nor have I touched wine or spirits +for years. I--I have a wife to keep, and perhaps--I am expecting--" + +He stopped abruptly. How could he mention that other matter which, for +all its anxieties, still possessed for him a sort of quickening joy in +the face of that brutal stare. He did not conclude his sentence, the +momentary light died out of his pale commonplace features. He hung his +head and was silent. + +"A wife," Scarlett Trent repeated with contempt, "and all the rest of it +of course. Oh, what poor donkeys you young men are! Here are you, with +your way to make in the world, with your foot scarcely upon the bottom +rung of the ladder, grubbing along on a few bob a week, and you choose +to go and chuck away every chance you ever might have for a moment's +folly. A poor, pretty face I suppose. A moonlight walk on a Bank +Holiday, a little maudlin sentiment, and over you throw all your chances +in life. No wonder the herd is so great, and the leaders so few," he +added, with a sneer. + +The young man raised his head. Once more the pink spot was burning. Yet +how hard to be dignified with the man from whom comes one's daily bread. + +"You are mistaken, sir," he said. "I am quite happy and quite +satisfied." + +Scarlett Trent laughed scornfully. + +"Then you don't look it," he exclaimed. + +"I may not, sir," the young man continued, with a desperate courage, +"but I am. After all happiness is spelt with different letters for all +of us. You have denied yourself--worked hard, carried many burdens and +run great risks to become a millionaire. I too have denied myself, have +worked and struggled to make a home for the girl I cared for. You have +succeeded and you are happy. I can hold Edith's--I beg your pardon, +my wife's hand in mine and I am happy. I have no ambition to be a +millionaire. I was very ambitious to win my wife." + +Scarlett Trent looked at him for a moment open mouthed and open-eyed. +Then he laughed outright and a chill load fell from the heart of the man +who for a moment had forgotten himself. The laugh was scornful perhaps, +but it was not angry. + +"Well, you've shut me up," he declared. "You seem a poor sort of a +creature to me, but if you're content, it's no business of mine. Here +buy yourself an overcoat, and drink a glass of wine. I'm off!" + +He rose from his seat and threw a bank-note over the table. The clerk +opened it and handed it back with a little start. + +"I am much obliged to you, sir," he said humbly, "but you have made a +mistake. This note is for fifty pounds." + +Trent glanced at it and held out his hand. Then he paused. + +"Never mind," he said, with a short laugh, "I meant to give you a fiver, +but it don't make much odds. Only see that you buy some new clothes." + +The clerk half closed his eyes and steadied himself by grasping the back +of a chair. There was a lump in his throat in earnest now. + +"You--you mean it, sir?" he gasped. "I--I'm afraid I can't thank you!" + +"Don't try, unless you want me to take it back," Trent said, strolling +to the sideboard. "Lord, how those City chaps can guzzle! Not a drop of +champagne left. Two unopened bottles though! Here, stick 'em in your bag +and take 'em to the missis, young man. I paid for the lot, so there's no +use leaving any. Now clear out as quick as you can. I'm off!" + +"You will allow me, sir--" + +Scarlett Trent closed the door with a slam and disappeared. The young +man passed him a few moments later as he stood on the steps of the hotel +lighting a cigar. He paused again, intent on stammering out some words +of thanks. Trent turned his back upon him coldly. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Trent, on leaving the hotel, turned for almost the first time in his +life westwards. For years the narrow alleys, the thronged streets, the +great buildings of the City had known him day by day, almost hour by +hour. Its roar and clamour, the strife of tongues and keen measuring +of wits had been the salt of his life. Steadily, sturdily, almost +insolently, he had thrust his way through to the front ranks. In many +respects those were singular and unusual elements which had gone to +the making of his success. His had not been the victory of honied +falsehoods, of suave deceit, of gentle but legalised robbery. He had +been a hard worker, a daring speculator with nerves of iron, and courage +which would have glorified a nobler cause. Nor had his been the methods +of good fellowship, the sharing of "good turns," the camaraderie of +finance. The men with whom he had had large dealings he had treated as +enemies rather than friends, ever watching them covertly with close but +unslackening vigilance. And now, for the present at any rate it was all +over. There had come a pause in his life. His back was to the City and +his face was set towards an unknown world. Half unconsciously he had +undertaken a little voyage of exploration. + +From the Strand he crossed Trafalgar Square into Pall Mall, and up the +Haymarket into Piccadilly. He was very soon aware that he had wandered +into a world whose ways were not his ways and with whom he had no +kinship. Yet he set himself sedulously to observe them, conscious that +what he saw represented a very large side of life. From the first he +was aware of a certain difference in himself and his ways. The careless +glance of a lounger on the pavement of Pall Mall filled him with a +sudden anger. The man was wearing gloves, an article of dress which +Trent ignored, and smoking a cigarette, which he loathed. Trent was +carelessly dressed in a tweed suit and red tie, his critic wore a silk +hat and frock coat, patent-leather boots, and a dark tie of invisible +pattern. Yet Trent knew that he was a type of that class which would +look upon him as an outsider, and a black sheep, until he had bought his +standing. They would expect him to conform to their type, to learn to +speak their jargon, to think with their puny brains and to see with +their short-sighted eyes. At the "Criterion" he turned in and had a +drink, and, bolder for the wine which he had swallowed at a gulp, he +told himself that he would do nothing of the sort. He would not alter +a jot. They must take him as he was, or leave him. He suffered his +thoughts to dwell for a moment upon his wealth, on the years which had +gone to the winning of it, on a certain nameless day, the memory of +which even now sent sometimes the blood running colder through his +veins, on the weaker men who had gone under that he might prosper. Now +that it was his, he wanted the best possible value for it; it was the +natural desire of the man to be uppermost in the bargain. The delights +of the world behind, it seemed to him that he had already drained. The +crushing of his rivals, the homage of his less successful competitors, +the grosser pleasures of wine, the music-halls, and the unlimited +spending of money amongst people whom he despised had long since palled +upon him. He had a keen, strong desire to escape once and for ever from +his surroundings. He lounged along, smoking a large cigar, keen-eyed and +observant, laying up for himself a store of impressions, unconsciously +irritated at every step by a sense of ostracism, of being in some +indefinable manner without kinship and wholly apart from this world, in +which it seemed natural now that he should find some place. He gazed +at the great houses without respect or envy, at the men with a fierce +contempt, at the women with a sore feeling that if by chance he should +be brought into contact with any of them they would regard him as a +sort of wild animal, to be 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. + +A sense of depression swept over him as he was driven through the +crowded streets towards Waterloo. The half-scornful, half-earnest +prophecy, to which he had listened years ago in a squalid African +hut, flashed into his mind. For the first time he began to have dim +apprehensions as to his future. All his life he had been a toiler, and +joy had been with him in the fierce combat which he had waged day by +day. He had fought his battle and he had won--where were the fruits +of his victory? A puny, miserable little creature like Dickenson could +prate of happiness and turn a shining face to the future--Dickenson who +lived upon a pittance, who depended upon the whim of his employer, and +who confessed to ambitions which were surely pitiable. Trent lit a fresh +cigar and smiled; things would surely come right with him--they must. +What Dickenson could gain was surely his by right a thousand times over. + +He took the train for Walton, travelling first class, and treated with +much deference by the officials on the line. As he alighted and passed +through the booking-hall into the station-yard a voice hailed him. He +looked up sharply. A carriage and pair of horses was waiting, and inside +a young woman with a very smart hat and a profusion of yellow hair. + +"Come on, General," she cried. "I've done a skip and driven down to meet +you. Such jokes when they miss me. The old lady will be as sick as they +make 'em. Can't we have a drive round for an hour, eh?" + +Her voice was high-pitched and penetrating. Listening to it Trent +unconsciously compared it with the voices of the women of that other +world into which he had wandered earlier in the afternoon. He turned a +frowning face towards her. + +"You might have spared yourself the trouble," he said shortly. "I didn't +order a carriage to meet me and I don't want one. I am going to walk +home." + +She tossed her head. + +"What a beastly temper you're in!" she remarked. "I'm not particular +about driving. Do you want to walk alone?" + +"Exactly!" he answered. "I do!" + +She leaned back in the carriage with heightened colour. + +"Well, there's one thing about me," she said acidly. "I never go where I +ain't wanted." + +Trent shrugged his shoulders and turned to the coachman. + +"Drive home, Gregg," he said. "I'm walking." + +The man touched his hat, the carriage drove off, and Trent, with a grim +smile upon his lips, walked along the dusty road. Soon he paused before +a little white gate marked private, and, unlocking it with a key which +he took from his pocket, passed through a little plantation into a large +park-like field. He took off his hat and fanned himself thoughtfully as +he walked. The one taste which his long and absorbing struggle with the +giants of Capel Court had never weakened was his love for the country. +He lifted his head to taste the breeze which came sweeping across from +the Surrey Downs, keenly relishing the fragrance of the new-mown hay and +the faint odour of pines from the distant dark-crested hill. As he came +up the field towards the house he looked with pleasure upon the great +bed of gorgeous-coloured rhododendrons which bordered his lawn, the dark +cedars which drooped over the smooth shaven grass, and the faint flush +of colour from the rose-gardens beyond. The house itself was small, but +picturesque. It was a grey stone building of two stories only, and from +where he was seemed completely embowered in flowers and creepers. In a +way, he thought, he would be sorry to leave it. It had been a pleasant +summer-house for him, although of course it was no fit dwelling-house +for a millionaire. He must look out for something at once now--a country +house and estate. All these things would come as a matter of course. + +He opened another gate and passed into an inner plantation of pines and +shrubs which bordered the grounds. A winding path led through it, and, +coming round a bend, he stopped short with a little exclamation. A girl +was standing with her back to him rapidly sketching upon a little block +which she had in her left hand. + +"Hullo!" he remarked, "another guest! and who brought you down, young +lady, eh?" + +She turned slowly round and looked at him in cold surprise. Trent knew +at once that he had made a mistake. She was plainly dressed in white +linen and a cool muslin blouse, but there was something about her, +unmistakable even to Trent, which placed her very far apart indeed from +any woman likely to have become his unbidden guest. He knew at once that +she was one of that class with whom he had never had any association. +She was the first lady whom he had ever addressed, and he could have +bitten out his tongues when he remembered the form of his doing so. + +"I beg your pardon, miss," he said confusedly, "my mistake! You see, +your back was turned to me." + +She nodded and smiled graciously. + +"If you are Mr. Scarlett Trent," she said, "it is I who should +apologise, for I am a flagrant trespasser. You must let me explain." + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +The girl had moved a step towards him as she spoke, and a gleam of +sunlight which had found its way into the grove flashed for a moment on +the stray little curls of her brown-gold hair and across her face. +Her lips were parted in a delightful smile; she was very pretty, and +inclined to be apologetic. But Scarlett Trent had seen nothing save that +first glance when the sun had touched her face with fire. A strong man +at all times, and more than commonly self-masterful, he felt himself +now as helpless as a child. A sudden pallor had whitened his face to +the lips, there were strange singings in his ears, and a mist before his +eyes. It was she! There was no possibility of any mistake. It was the +girl for whose picture he had gambled in the hut at Bekwando--Monty's +baby-girl, of whom he had babbled even in death. He leaned against a +tree, stricken dumb, and she was frightened. "You are ill," she cried. +"I'm so sorry. Let me run to the house and fetch some one!" + +He had strength enough to stop her. A few deep breaths and he was +himself again, shaken and with a heart beating like a steam-engine, but +able at least to talk intelligently. + +"I'm sorry--didn't mean to frighten you," he said. "It's the heat. I +get an attack like this sometimes. Yes, I'm Mr. Trent. I don't know what +you're doing here, but you're welcome." + +"How nice of you to say so!" she answered brightly. "But then perhaps +you'll change your mind when you know what I have been doing." + +He laughed shortly. + +"Nothing terrible, I should say. Looks as though you've been making a +picture of my house; I don't mind that." + +She dived in her pocket and produced a card-case. + +"I'll make full confession," she said frankly. "I'm a journalist." + +"A what!" he repeated feebly. + +"A journalist. I'm on the Hour. This isn't my work as a rule; but the +man who should have come is ill, and his junior can't sketch, so they +sent me! Don't look as though I were a ghost, please. Haven't you ever +heard of a girl journalist before?" + +"Never," he answered emphatically. "I didn't know that ladies did such +things!" + +She laughed gaily but softly; and Trent understood then what was meant +by the music of a woman's voice. + +"Oh, it's not at all an uncommon thing," she answered him. "You won't +mind my interviewing you, will you?" + +"Doing what?" he asked blankly. + +"Interviewing you! That's what I've come for, you know; and we want a +little sketch of your house for the paper. I know you don't like it. I +hear you've been awfully rude to poor little Morrison of the Post; but +I'll be very careful what I say, and very quick." + +He stood looking at her, a dazed and bewildered man. From the trim +little hat, with its white band and jaunty bunch of cornflowers, to +the well-shaped patent shoes, she was neatly and daintily dressed. A +journalist! He gazed once more into her face, at the brown eyes watching +him now a little anxiously, the mouth with the humorous twitch at +the corner of her lips. The little wisps of hair flashed again in the +sunlight. It was she! He had found her. + +She took his silence for hesitation, and continued a little anxiously. + +"I really won't ask you many questions, and it would do me quite a lot +of good to get an interview with you. Of course I oughtn't to have begun +this sketch without permission. If you mind that, I'll give it up." + +He found his tongue awkwardly, but vigorously. + +"You can sketch just as long as ever you please, and make what use of it +you like," he said. "It's only a bit of a place though!" + +"How nice of you! And the interview?" + +"I'll tell you whatever you want to know," he said quietly. + +She could scarcely believe in her good fortune, especially when she +remembered the description of the man which one of the staff had given. +He was gruff, vulgar, ill-tempered; the chief ought to be kicked for +letting her go near him! This was what she had been told. She laughed +softly to herself. + +"It is very good indeed of you, Mr. Trent," she said earnestly. "I was +quite nervous about coming, for I had no idea that you would be so kind. +Shall I finish my sketch first, and then perhaps you will be able to +spare me a few minutes for the interview?" + +"Just as you like," he answered. "May I look at it?" + +"Certainly," she answered, holding out the block; "but it isn't half +finished yet." + +"Will it take long?" + +"About an hour, I think." + +"You are very clever," he said, with a little sigh. + +She laughed outright. + +"People are calling you the cleverest man in London to-day," she said. + +"Pshaw! It isn't the cleverness that counts for anything that makes +money." + +Then he set his teeth hard together and swore vigorously but silently. +She had become suddenly interested in her work. A shrill burst of +laughter from the lawn in front had rung sharply out, startling them +both. A young woman with fluffy hair and in a pale blue dinner-dress was +dancing to an unseen audience. Trent's eyes flashed with anger, and his +cheeks burned. The dance was a music-hall one, and the gestures were not +refined. Before he could stop himself an oath had broken from his lips. +After that he dared not even glance at the girl by his side. + +"I'm very sorry," he muttered. "I'll stop that right away." + +"You mustn't disturb your friends on my account," she said quietly. She +did not look up, but Trent felt keenly the alteration in her manner. + +"They're not my friends," he exclaimed passionately "I'll clear them out +neck and crop." + +She looked up for a moment, surprised at his sudden vehemence. There +was no doubt about his being in earnest. She continued her work without +looking at him, but her tone when she spoke was more friendly. + +"This will take me a little longer than I thought to finish properly," +she said. "I wonder might I come down early to-morrow morning? What time +do you leave for the City?" + +"Not until afternoon, at any rate," he said. "Come to-morrow, +certainly--whenever you like. You needn't be afraid of that rabble. I'll +see you don't have to go near them." + +"You must please not make any difference or alter your arrangements on +my account," she said. "I am quite used to meeting all sorts of people +in my profession, and I don't object to it in the least. Won't you go +now? I think that that was your dinner-bell." + +He hesitated, obviously embarrassed but determined. "There is one +question," he said, "which I should very much like to ask you. It will +sound impertinent. I don't mean it so. I can't explain exactly why I +want to know, but I have a reason." + +"Ask it by all means," she said. "I'll promise that I'll answer it if I +can." + +"You say that you are--a journalist. Have you taken it up for a pastime, +or--to earn money?" + +"To earn money by all means," she answered, laughing. "I like the work, +but I shouldn't care for it half so much if I didn't make my living at +it. Did you think that I was an amateur?" + +"I didn't know," he answered slowly. "Thank you. You will come +to-morrow?" + +"Of course! Good evening." + +"Good evening." + +Trent lifted his hat, and turned away unwillingly towards the house, +full of a sense that something wonderful had happened to him. He was +absent-minded, but he stopped to pat a little dog whose attentions he +usually ignored, and he picked a creamy-white rose as he crossed the +lawn and wondered why it should remind him of her. + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Trent's appearance upon the lawn was greeted with a shout of enthusiasm. +The young lady in blue executed a pas seut, and came across to him on +her toes, and the girl with the yellow hair, although sulky, gave him +to understand by a sidelong glance that her favour was not permanently +withdrawn. They neither of 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. + +"Where are the lost tribe?" he inquired, as the girls, one on either +side, escorted him to the house. + +They received his witticism with a piercing shriek of laughter. + +"Mamma and her rag of a daughter are in the drawing room," explained +Miss Montressor--the young lady with fluffy hair who dressed in blue and +could dance. "Such a joke, General! They don't approve of us! Mamma says +that she shall have to take her Julie away if we remain. We are not +fit associates for her. Rich, isn't it! The old chap's screwing up his +courage now with brandy and soda to tell you so!" + +Trent laughed heartily. The situation began to appeal to him. There was +humour in it which he alone could appreciate. + +"Does he expect me to send you away?" he asked. + +"That's a cert!" Miss Montressor affirmed. "The old woman's been playing +the respectable all day, turning up the whites of her eyes at me because +I did a high kick in the hall, and groaning at Flossie because she had a +few brandies; ain't that so, Flossie?" + +The young lady with yellow hair confirmed the statement with much +dignity. + +"I had a toothache," she said, "and Mrs. Da Souza, or whatever the old +cat calls herself, was most rude. I reckon myself as respectable as she +is any day, dragging that yellow-faced daughter of hers about with her +and throwing her at men's heads." + +Miss Montressor, who had stopped to pick a flower, rejoined them. + +"I say, General," she remarked, "fair's fair, and a promise is a +promise. We didn't come down here to be made fools of by a fat old +Jewess. You won't send us away because of the old wretch?" + +"I promise," said Trent, "that when she goes you go, and not before. Is +that sufficient?" + +"Right oh!" the young lady declared cheerfully. "Now you go and prink up +for dinner. We're ready, Flossie and I. The little Jew girl's got a new +dress--black covered with sequins. It makes her look yellower than ever. +There goes the bell, and we're both as hungry as hunters. Look sharp!" + +Trent entered the house. Da Souza met him in the hall, sleek, curly, +and resplendent in a black dinner-suit. The years had dealt lightly with +him, or else the climate of England was kinder to his yellow skin than +the moist heat of the Gold Coast. He greeted Trent with a heartiness +which was partly tentative, partly boisterous. + +"Back from the coining of the shekels, my dear friend," he exclaimed. +"Back from the spoiling of the Egyptians, eh? How was money to-day?" + +"An eighth easier," Trent answered, ascending the stairs. + +Da Souza fidgeted about with the banisters, and finally followed him. + +"There was just a word," he remarked, "a little word I wanted with you." + +"Come and talk while I wash," Trent said shortly. "Dinner's on, and I'm +hungry." + +"Certainly, certainly," Da Souza murmured, closing the door behind them +as they entered the lavatory. "It is concerning these young ladies." + +"What! Miss Montressor and her friend?" Trent remarked thrusting his +head into the cold water. "Phew!" + +"Exactly! Two very charming young ladies, my dear friend, very charming +indeed, but a little--don't you fancy just a little fast!" + +"Hadn't noticed it," Trent answered, drying himself. "What about it?" + +Da Souza tugged at his little black imperial, and moved uneasily about. + +"We--er--men of the world, my dear Trent, we need not be so particular, +eh?--but the ladies--the ladies are so observant." + +"What ladies?" Trent asked coolly. + +"It is my wife who has been talking to me," Da Souza continued. "You +see, Julie is so young--our dear daughter she is but a child; and, as +my wife says, we cannot be too particular, too careful, eh; you +understand!" + +"You want them to go? Is that it?" + +Da Souza spread out his hands--an old trick, only now the palms were +white and the diamonds real. + +"For myself," he declared, "I find them charming. It is my wife who says +to me, 'Hiram, those young persons, they are not fit company for our +dear, innocent Julie! You shall speak to Mr. Trent. He will understand!' +Eh?" + +Trent had finished his toilet and stood, the hairbrushes still in his +hands, looking at Da Souza's anxious face with a queer smile upon his +lips. + +"Yes, I understand, Da Souza," he said. "No doubt you are right, you +cannot be too careful. You do well to be particular." + +Da Souza winced. He was about to speak, but Trent interrupted him. + +"Well, I'll tell you this, and you can let the missis know, my fond +father. They leave to-morrow. Is that good enough?" + +Da Souza caught at his host's hand, but Trent snatched it away. + +"My dear--my noble--" + +"Here, shut up and don't paw me," Trent interrupted. "Mind, not a word +of this to any one but your wife; the girls don't know they're going +themselves yet." + +They entered the dining-room, where every one else was already +assembled. Mrs. Da Souza, a Jewess portly and typical, resplendent +in black satin and many gold chains and bangles, occupied the seat of +honour, and by her side was a little brown girl, with dark, timid eyes +and dusky complexion, pitiably over-dressed but with a certain elf-like +beauty, which it was hard to believe that she could ever have inherited. +Miss Montressor and her friend sat on either side of their host--an +arrangement which Mrs. Da Souza lamented, but found herself powerless to +prevent, and her husband took the vacant place. Dinner was served, and +with the opening of the champagne, which was not long delayed, tongues +were loosened. + +"It was very hot in the City to-day," Mrs. Da Souza remarked to her +host. "Dear 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!" + +"Very kind of your daughter," Trent answered, looking directly at her +and rather inclined to pity her obvious shyness. "Come, drink up, Da +Souza, drink up, girls! I've had a hard day and I want to forget for a +bit that there's any such thing as work." + +Miss Montressor raised her glass and winked at her host. + +"It don't take much drinking, this, General," she remarked, cheerily +draining her glass! "Different to the 'pop' they give us down at the +'Star,' eh, Flossie? Good old gooseberry I call that!" + +"Da Souza, look after Miss Flossie," Trent said. "Why don't you fill her +glass? That's right!" + +"Hiram!" + +Da Souza removed his hand from the back of his neighbour's chair and +endeavoured to look unconscious. The girl tittered--Mrs. Da Souza was +severely dignified. Trent watched them all, half in amusement, half in +disgust. What a pandemonium! It was time indeed for him to get rid of +them all. From where he sat he could see across the lawn into the little +pine plantation. It was still light--if she could look in at the open +window what would she think? His cheeks burned, and he thrust the hand +which was seeking his under the table savagely away. And then an idea +flashed in upon him--a magnificent, irresistible idea. He drank off a +glass of champagne and laughed loud and long at one of his neighbour's +silly sayings. It was a glorious joke! The more he thought of it, the +more he liked it. He called for more champagne, and all, save the little +brown girl, greeted the magnum which presently appeared with cheers. +Even Mrs. Da Souza unbent a little towards the young women against whom +she had declared war. Faces were flushed and voices grew a little thick. +Da Souza's arm unchidden sought once more the back of his neighbour's +chair, Miss Montressor's eyes did their utmost to win a tender glance +from their lavish host. Suddenly Trent rose to his feet. He held a glass +high over his head. His face was curiously unmoved, but his lips were +parted in an enigmatic smile. + +"A toast, my friends!" he cried. "Fill up, the lot of you! Come! To our +next meeting! May fortune soon smile again, and may I have another home +before long as worthy a resting-place for you as this!" + +Bewilderment reigned. No one offered to drink the toast. It was Miss +Montressor who asked the question which was on every one's lips. + +"What's up?" she exclaimed. "What's the matter with our next meeting +here to-morrow night, and what's all that rot about your next home and +fortune?" + +Trent looked at them all in well-simulated amazement. + +"Lord!" he exclaimed, "you don't know--none of you! I thought Da Souza +would have told you the news!" + +"What news?" Da Souza cried, his beady eyes protuberant, and his glass +arrested half-way to his mouth. + +"What are you talking about, my friend?" + +Trent set down his glass. + +"My friends," he said unsteadily, "let me explain to you, as shortly as +I can, what an uncertain position is that of a great financier." + +Da Souza leaned across the table. His face was livid, and the corners of +his eyes were bloodshot. + +"I thought there was something up," he muttered. "You would not have me +come into the City this morning. D--n it, you don't mean that you--" + +"I'm bust!" Trent said roughly. "Is that plain enough? I've been bulling +on West Australians, and they boomed and this afternoon the Government +decided not to back us at Bekwando, and the mines are to be shut down. +Tell you all about it if you like." + +No one wanted to hear all about it. They shrunk from him as though he +were a robber. Only the little brown girl was sorry, and she looked at +him with dark, soft eyes. + +"I've given a bill of sale here," Trent continued. "They'll be round +to-morrow. Better pack to-night. These valuers are such robbers. Come, +another bottle! It'll all have to be sold. We'll make a night of it." + +Mrs. Da Souza rose and swept from the room--Da Souza had fallen forward +with his head upon his hands. He was only half sober, but the shock +was working like madness in his brain. The two girls, after whispering +together for a moment, rose and followed Mrs. Da Souza. Trent stole +from his place and out into the garden. With footsteps which were steady +enough now he crossed the velvety lawns, and plunged into the shrubbery. +Then he began to laugh softly as he walked. They were all duped! They +had accepted his story without the slightest question. He leaned over +the gate which led into the little plantation, and he was suddenly grave +and silent. A night-wind was blowing fragrant and cool. The dark boughs +of the trees waved to and fro against the background of deep blue sky. +The lime leaves rustled softly, the perfume of roses came floating +across from the flower-gardens. Trent stood quite still, listening and +thinking. + +"God! what a beast I am!" he muttered. "It was there she sat! I'm not +fit to breathe the same air." + +He looked back towards the house. The figures of the two girls, with Da +Souza standing now between them, were silhouetted against the window. +His face grew dark and fierce. + +"Faugh!" he exclaimed, "what a kennel I have made of my house! What a +low-down thing I have begun to make of life! Yet--I was a beggar--and I +am a millionaire. Is it harder to change oneself? To-morrow"--he looked +hard at the place where she had sat--"to-morrow I will ask her!" + +On his way back to the house a little cloaked figure stepped out from +behind a shrub. He looked at her in amazement. It was the little brown +girl, and her eyes were wet with tears. + +"Listen," she said quickly. "I have been waiting to speak to you! I want +to say goodbye and to thank you. I am very, very sorry, and I hope that +some day very soon you will make some more money and be happy again." + +Her lips were quivering. A single glance into her face assured him +of her honesty. He took the hand which she held out and pressed her +fingers. + +"Little Julie," he said, "you are a brick. Don't you bother about me. It +isn't quite so bad as I made out--only don't tell your mother that." + +"I'm very glad," she murmured. "I think that it is hateful of them all +to rush away, and I made up my mind to say goodbye however angry it made +them. Let me go now, please. I want to get back before mamma misses me." + +He passed his arm around her tiny waist. She looked at him with +frightened eyes. + +"Please let me go," she murmured. + +He kissed her lips, and a moment afterwards vaguely repented it. She +buried her face in her hands and ran away sobbing. Trent lit a cigar and +sat down upon a garden seat. + +"It's a queer thing," he said reflectingly. "The girl's been thrown +repeatedly at my head for a week and I might have kissed her at any +moment, before her father and mother if I had liked, and they'd have +thanked me. Now I've done it I'm sorry. She looked prettier than I've +ever seen her too--and she's the only decent one of the lot. Lord! what +a hubbub there'll be in the morning!" + +The stars came out and the moon rose, and still Scarlett Trent lingered +in the scented darkness. He was a man of limited imagination and little +given to superstitions. Yet that night there came to him a presentiment. +He felt that he was on the threshold of great events. Something new +in life was looming up before him. He had cut himself adrift from the +old--it was a very wonderful and a very beautiful figure which was +beckoning him to follow in other paths. The triumph of the earlier part +of the day seemed to lie far back in a misty and unimportant past. There +was a new world and a greater, if fortune willed that he should enter +it. + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Trent was awakened next morning by the sound of carriage wheels in the +drive below. He rang his bell at once. After a few moments' delay it was +answered by one of his two men-servants. + +"Whose carriage is that in the drive?" he asked. "It is a fly for Mr. Da +Souza, sir." + +"What! has he gone?" Trent exclaimed. + +"Yes, sir, he and Mrs. Da Souza and the young lady." + +"And Miss Montressor and her friend?" + +"They shared the fly, sir. The luggage all went down in one of the +carts." + +Trent laughed outright, half scornfully, half in amusement. + +"Listen, Mason," he said, as the sound of wheels died away. "If any of +those people come back again they are not to be admitted--do you hear? +if they bring their luggage you are not to take it in. If they come +themselves you are not to allow them to enter the house. You understand +that?" + +"Yes, sir. + +"Very good! Now prepare my bath at once, and tell the cook, breakfast +in half an hour. Let her know that I am hungry. Breakfast for one, mind! +Those fools who have just left will get a morning paper at the station +and they may come back. Be on the look-out for them and let the other +servants know. Better have the lodge gate locked." + +"Very good, sir." + +The man who had been lamenting the loss of an easy situation and +possibly even a month's wages, hastened to spread more reassuring news +in the lower regions. It was a practical joke of the governor's--very +likely a ruse to get rid of guests who had certainly been behaving +as though the Lodge was their permanent home. There was a chorus of +thanksgiving. Groves, the butler, who read the money articles in the +Standard every morning with solemn interest and who was suspected of +investments, announced that from what he could make out the governor +must have landed a tidy little lump yesterday. Whereupon the cook set to +work to prepare a breakfast worthy of the occasion. + +Trent had awakened with a keen sense of anticipated pleasure. A new +and delightful interest had entered into his life. It is true that, +at times, it needed all his strength of mind to keep his thoughts from +wandering back into that unprofitable and most distasteful past--in the +middle of the night even, he had woke up suddenly with an old man's +cry in his ears--or was it the whispering of the night-wind in the tall +elms? But he was not of an imaginative nature. He felt himself strong +enough to set his heel wholly upon all those memories. If he had not +erred on the side of generosity, he had at least played the game fairly. +Monty, if he had lived, could only have been a disappointment and a +humiliation. The picture was hers--of that he had no doubt! Even then +he was not sure that Monty was her father. In any case she would never +know. He recognised no obligation on his part to broach the subject. The +man had done his best to cut himself altogether adrift from his former +life. His reasons doubtless had been sufficient. It was not necessary +to pry into them--it might even be unkindness. The picture, which no man +save himself had ever seen, was the only possible link between the past +and the present--between Scarlett Trent and his drunken old partner, +starved and fever-stricken, making their desperate effort for wealth in +unknown Africa, and the millionaire of to-day. The picture remained his +dearest possession--but, save his own, no other eyes had ever beheld it. + +He dressed with more care than usual, and much less satisfaction. He was +a man who rather prided himself upon neglecting his appearance, and, so +far as the cut and pattern of his clothes went, he usually suggested +the artisan out for a holiday. To-day for the first time he regarded his +toilet with critical and disparaging eyes. He found the pattern of his +tweed suit too large, and the colour too pronounced, his collars were +old-fashioned and his ties hideous. It was altogether a new experience +with him, this self-dissatisfaction and sensitiveness to criticism, +which at any other time he would have regarded with a sort of insolent +indifference. He remembered his walk westward yesterday with a shudder, +as though indeed it had been a sort of nightmare, and wondered whether +she too had regarded him with the eyes of those loungers on the +pavement--whether she too was one of those who looked for a man to +conform to the one arbitrary and universal type. Finally he tied his +necktie with a curse, and went down to breakfast with little of his +good-humour left. + +The fresh air sweeping in through the long, open windows, the glancing +sunlight and the sense of freedom, for which the absence of his guests +was certainly responsible, soon restored his spirits. Blest with an +excellent morning appetite--the delightful heritage of a clean life--he +enjoyed his breakfast and thoroughly appreciated his cook's efforts. +If he needed a sauce, Fate bestowed one upon him, for he was scarcely +midway through his meal before a loud ringing at the lodge gates proved +the accuracy of his conjectures. Mr. Da Souza had purchased a morning +paper at the junction, and their host's perfidy had become apparent. +Obviously they had decided to treat the whole matter as a practical joke +and to brave it out, for outside the gates in an open fly were the whole +party. They had returned, only to find that according to Trent's orders +the gates were closed upon them. + +Trent moved his seat to where he could have a better view, and continued +his breakfast. The party in the cab looked hot, and tumbled, and cross. +Da Souza was on his feet arguing with the lodge-keeper--the women seemed +to be listening anxiously. Trent turned to the servant who was waiting +upon him. + +"Send word down," he directed, "that I will see Mr. Da Souza alone. No +one else is to be allowed to enter. Pass me the toast before you go." + +Da Souza entered presently, apologetic and abject, prepared at the same +time to extenuate and deny. Trent continued his breakfast coolly. + +"My dear friend!" Da Souza exclaimed, depositing his silk hat upon the +table, "it is a very excellent joke of yours. You see, we have entered +into the spirit of it--oh yes, we have done so indeed! We have taken +a little drive before breakfast, but we have returned. You knew, of +course, that we would not dream of leaving you in such a manner. Do you +not think, my dear friend, that the joke was carried now far enough? The +ladies are hungry; will you send word to the lodge-keeper that he may +open the gate?" + +Trent helped himself to coffee, and leaned back in his chair, stirring +it thoughtfully. + +"You are right, Da Souza," he said. "It is an excellent joke. The cream +of it is too that I am in earnest; neither you nor any of those ladies +whom I see out there will sit at my table again." + +"You are not in earnest! You do not mean it!" + +"I can assure you," Trent replied grinning, "that I do!" + +"But do you mean," Da Souza spluttered, "that we are to go like this--to +be turned out--the laughing-stock of your servants, after we have come +back too, all the way?--oh, it is nonsense! It's not to be endured!" + +"You can go to the devil!" Trent answered coolly. "There is not one of +you whom I care a fig to see again. You thought that I was ruined, and +you scudded like rats from a sinking ship. Well, I found you out, and a +jolly good thing too. All I have to say is now, be off, and the quicker +the better!" + +Then Da Souza cringed no longer, and there shot from his black eyes the +venomous twinkle of the serpent whose fangs are out. He leaned over the +table, and dropped his voice. + +"I speak," he said, "for my wife, my daughter, and myself, and I assure +you that we decline to go!" + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Trent rose up with flashing eyes. Da Souza shrank back from his +outstretched hands. The two men stood facing one another. Da Souza was +afraid, but the ugly look of determination remained upon his white +face. Trent felt dimly that there was something which must be explained +between them. There had been hints of this sort before from Da Souza. +It was time the whole thing was cleared up. The lion was ready to throw +aside the jackal. + +"I give you thirty seconds," he said, "to clear out. If you haven't come +to your senses then, you'll be sorry for it." + +"Thirty seconds is not long enough," Da Souza answered, "for me to tell +you why I decline to go. Better listen to me quietly, my friend. It will +be best for you. Afterwards you will admit it." + +"Go ahead," Trent said, "I'm anxious to hear what you've got to say. +Only look here! I'm a bit short-tempered this morning, and I shouldn't +advise you to play with your words!" + +"This is no play at all," Da Souza remarked, with a sneer. "I ask you to +remember, my friend, our first meeting." + +Trent nodded. + +"Never likely to forget it," he answered. + +"I came down from Elmina to deal with you," Da Souza continued. "I had +made money trading in Ashanti for palm-oil and mahogany. I had money +to invest--and you needed it. You had land, a concession to work +gold-mines, and build a road to the coast. It was speculative, but we +did business. I came with you to England. I found more money." + +"You made your fortune," Trent said drily. "I had to have the money, and +you ground a share out of me which is worth a quarter of a million to +you!" + +"Perhaps it is," Da Souza answered, "perhaps it is not. Perhaps it +is worth nothing at all. Perhaps, instead of being a millionaire, you +yourself are a swindler and an adventurer!" + +"If you don't speak out in half a moment," Trent said in a low tone, +"I'll twist the tongue out of your head." + +"I am speaking out," Da Souza answered. "It is an ugly thing I have to +say, but you must control yourself." + +The little black eyes were like the eyes of a snake. He was showing his +teeth. He forgot to be afraid. + +"You had a partner," he said. "The concession was made out to him +together with yourself." + +"He died," Trent answered shortly. "I took over the lot by arrangement." + +"A very nice arrangement," Da Souza drawled with a devilish smile. "He +is old and weak. You were with him up at Bekwando where there are no +white men--no one to watch you. You gave him brandy to drink--you watch +the fever come, and you write on the concession if one should die all +goes to the survivor. And you gave him brandy in the bush where the +fever is, and--behold you return alone! When people know this they will +say, 'Oh yes, it is the way millionaires are made.'" + +He stopped, out of breath, for the veins were standing out upon his +forehead, and he remembered what the English doctor at Cape Coast Castle +had told him. So he was silent for a moment, wiping the perspiration +away and struggling against the fear which was turning the blood to ice +in his veins. For Trent's face was not pleasant to look upon. + +"Anything else?" + +Da Souza pulled himself together. "Yes," he said; "what I have said is +as nothing. It is scandalous, and it would make talk, but it is nothing. +There is something else." + +"Well?" + +"You had a partner whom you deserted." + +"It is a lie! I carried him on my back for twenty hours with a pack of +yelling niggers behind. We were lost, and I myself was nigh upon a dead +man. Who would have cumbered himself with a corpse? Curse you and your +vile hints, you mongrel, you hanger-on, you scurrilous beast! Out, and +spread your stories, before my fingers get on your throat! Out!" + +Da Souza slunk away before the fire in Trent's eyes, but he had no idea +of going. He stood in safety near the door, and as he leaned forward, +speaking now in a hoarse whisper, he reminded Trent momentarily of one +of those hideous fetish gods in the sacred grove at Bekwando. + +"Your partner was no corpse when you left him," he hissed out. "You were +a fool and a bungler not to make sure of it. The natives from Bekwando +found him and carried him bound to the King, and your English explorer, +Captain Francis, rescued him. He's alive now!" + +Trent stood for a moment like a man turned to stone. Alive! Monty alive! +The impossibility of the thing came like a flash of relief to him. The +man was surely on the threshold of death when he had left him, and the +age of miracles was past. + +"You're talking like a fool, Da Souza. Do you mean to take me in with an +old woman's story like that?" + +"There's no old woman's story about what I've told you," Da Souza +snarled. "The man's alive and I can prove it a dozen times over. You +were a fool and a bungler." + +Trent thought of the night when he had crept back into the bush and had +found no trace of Monty, and gradually there rose up before him a lurid +possibility Da Souza's story was true. The very thought of it worked +like madness in his brains. When he spoke he strove hard to steady his +voice, and even to himself it sounded like the voice of one speaking a +long way off. + +"Supposing that this were true," he said, "what is he doing all this +time? Why does he not come and claim his share?" + +Da Souza hesitated. He would have liked to have invented another reason, +but it was not safe. The truth was best. + +"He is half-witted and has lost his memory. He is working now at one of +the Basle mission-places near Attra." + +"And why have you not told me this before?" + +Da Souza shrugged his shoulders. "It was not necessary," he said. "Our +interests were the same, it was better for you not to know." + +"He remembers nothing, then?" + +Da Souza hesitated. "Oom Sam," he said, "my half-brother, keeps an eye +on him. Sometimes he gets restless, he talks, but what matter? He has no +money. Soon he must die. He is getting an old man!" + +"I shall send for him," Trent said slowly. "He shall have his share!" + +It was the one fear which had kept Da Souza silent. The muscles of his +face twitched, and his finger-nails were buried in the flesh of his fat, +white hands. Side by side he had worked with Trent for years without +being able to form any certain estimate of the man or his character. +Many a time he had asked himself what Trent would do if he knew--only +the fear of his complete ignorance of the man had kept him silent all +these years. Now the crisis had come! He had spoken! It might mean ruin. + +"Send for him?" Da Souza said. "Why? His memory has gone--save for +occasional fits of passion in which he raves at you. What would people +say?--that you tried to kill him with brandy, that the clause in the +concession was a direct incentive for you to get rid of him, and you +left him in the bush only a few miles from Buckomari to be seized by the +natives. Besides, how can you pay him half? I know pretty well how you +stand. On paper, beyond doubt you are a millionaire; but what if all +claims were suddenly presented against you to be paid in sovereigns? +I tell you this, my friend, Mr. Scarlett Trent, and I am a man of +experience and I know. To-day in the City it is true that you could +raise a million pounds in cash, but let me whisper a word, one little +word, and you would be hard pressed to raise a thousand. It is true +there is the Syndicate, that great scheme of yours yesterday from which +you were so careful to exclude me--you are to get great monies from +them in cash. Bah! don't you see that Monty's existence breaks up that +Syndicate--smashes it into tiny atoms, for you have sold what was not +yours to sell, and they do not pay for that, eh? They call it fraud!" + +He paused, out of breath, and Trent remained silent; he knew very well +that he was face to face with a great crisis. Of all things this was the +most fatal which could have happened to him. Monty alive! He remembered +the old man's passionate cry for life, for pleasure, to taste once more, +for however short a time, the joys of wealth. Monty alive, penniless, +half-witted, the servant of a few ill-paid missionaries, toiling all +day for a living, perhaps fishing with the natives or digging, a slave +still, without hope or understanding, with the end of his days well in +view! Surely it were better to risk all things, to have him back at any +cost? Then a thought more terrible yet than any rose up before him like +a spectre, there was a sudden catch at his heart-strings, he was cold +with fear. What would she think of the man who deserted his partner, +an old man, while life was yet in him, and safety close at hand? Was +it possible that he could ever escape the everlasting stigma of +cowardice--ay, and before him in great red letters he saw written in +the air that fatal clause in the agreement, to which she and all others +would point with bitter scorn, indubitable, overwhelming evidence +against him. He gasped for breath and walked restlessly up and down the +room. Other thoughts came crowding in upon him. He was conscious of a +new element in himself. The last few years had left their mark upon him. +With the handling of great sums of money and the acquisition of wealth +had grown something of the financier's fever. He had become a power, +solidly and steadfastly he had hewn his way into a little circle whose +fascination had begun to tell in his blood. Was he to fall without a +struggle from amongst the high places, to be stripped of his wealth, +shunned as a man who was morally, if not in fact, a murderer, to be +looked upon with never-ending scorn by the woman whose picture for years +had been a religion to him, and whose appearance only a few hours ago +had been the most inspiring thing which had entered into his life? +He looked across the lawn into the pine grove with steadfast eyes and +knitted brows, and Da Souza watched him, ghastly and nervous. At least +he must have time to decide! + +"If you send for him," Da Souza said slowly, "you will be absolutely +ruined. It will be a triumph for those whom you have made jealous, +who have measured their wits with yours and gone under. Oh! but the +newspapers will enjoy it--that is very certain. Our latest millionaire, +his rise and fall! Cannot you see it in the placards? And for what? To +give wealth to an old man long past the enjoyment of it--ay, imbecile +already! You will not be a madman, Trent?" + +Trent winced perceptibly. Da Souza saw it and rejoiced. There was +another awkward silence. Trent lit a cigar and puffed furiously at it. + +"I will think it over, at least," he said in a low tone. "Bring back +your wife and daughter, and leave me alone for a while." + +"I knew," Da Souza murmured, "that my friend would be reasonable." + +"And the young ladies?" + +"Send them to--" + +"I will send them back to where they came from," Da Souza interrupted +blandly. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +It is probable that Mrs. Da Souza, excellent wife and mother though she +had proved herself to be, had never admired her husband more than when, +followed by the malevolent glances of Miss Montressor and her friend, +she, with her daughter and Da Souza, re-entered the gates of the Lodge. +The young ladies had announced their intention of sitting in the fly +until they were allowed speech with their late host; to which he had +replied that they were welcome to sit there until doomsday so long as +they remained outside his gates. Mr. Da Souza lingered for a moment +behind and laid his finger upon his nose. + +"It ain't no use, my dears," he whispered confidentially. "He's fairly +got the hump. Between you and me he'd give a bit not to have us, but me +and him being old friends--you see, we know a bit about one another." + +"Oh, that's it, is it?" Miss Montressor remarked, with a toss of her +head. "Well, you and your wife and your little chit of a daughter are +welcome to him so far as we are concerned, aren't they, Flossie?" + +"Well, I should say so," agreed the young lady, who rather affected +Americanisms. + +Da Souza stroked his little imperial, and winked solemnly. + +"You are young ladies of spirit," he declared. "Now--" + +"Hiram!" + +"I am coming, my dear," he called over his shoulder. "One word more, my +charming young friends! No. 7, Racket's Court, City, is my address. +Look in sometime when you're that way, and we'll have a bit of lunch +together, and just at present take my advice. Get back to London and +write him from there. He is not in a good humour at present." + +"We are much obliged, Mr. Da Souza," the young lady answered loftily. +"As we have engagements in London this afternoon, we may as well go +now--eh, Flossie?" + +"Right along," answered the young lady, "I'm with you, but as to writing +Mr. Trent, you can tell him from me, Mr. Da Souza, that we want to have +nothing more to do with him. A fellow that can treat ladies as he has +treated us is no gentleman. You can tell him that. He's an ignorant, +common fellow, and for my part I despise him." + +"Same here," echoed Miss Montressor, heartily. "We ain't used to +associate with such as him!" + +"Hiram!" + +Mr. Da Souza raised his hat and bowed; the ladies were tolerably +gracious and the fly drove off. Whereupon Mr. Da Souza followed his wife +and daughter along the drive and caught them up upon the doorstep. With +mingled feelings of apprehension and elation he ushered them into the +morning-room where Trent was standing looking out of the window with his +hands behind him. At their entrance he did not at once turn round. Mr. +Da Souza coughed apologetically. + +"Here we are, my friend," he remarked. "The ladies are anxious to wish +you good morning." + +Trent faced them with a sudden gesture of impatience. He seemed on the +point of an angry exclamation, when his eyes met Julie Da Souza's. He +held his breath for a moment and was silent. Her face was scarlet +with shame, and her lips were trembling. For her sake Trent restrained +himself. + +"Glad to see you back again, Julie," he said, ignoring her mother's +outstretched hand and beaming smile of welcome. "Going to be a hot day, +I think. You must get out in the hay-field. Order what breakfast you +please, Da Souza," he continued on his way to the door; "you must be +hungry--after such an early start!" + +Mrs. Da Souza sat down heavily and rang the bell. + +"He was a little cool," she remarked, "but that was to be expected. Did +you observe the notice he took of Julie? Dear child!" + +Da Souza rubbed his hands and nodded meaningly. The girl, who, between +the two, was miserable enough, sat down with a little sob. Her mother +looked at her in amazement. + +"My Julie," she exclaimed, "my dear child! You see, Hiram, she is faint! +She is overcome!" + +The child, she was very little more, broke out at last in speech, +passionately, yet with a miserable fore-knowledge of the ineffectiveness +of anything she might say. + +"It is horrible," she cried, "it is maddening! Why do we do it? Are we +paupers or adventurers? Oh! let me go away! I am ashamed to stay in this +house!" + +Her father, his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat and his legs far +apart, looked at her in blank and speechless amazement; her mother, with +more consideration but equal lack of sympathy, patted her gently on the +back of her hand. + +"Silly Julie," she murmured, "what is there that is horrible, little +one?" + +The dark eyes blazed with scorn, the delicately curved lips shook. + +"Why, the way we thrust ourselves upon this man is horrible!" she cried. +"Can you not see that we are not welcome, that he wishes us gone?" + +Da Souza smiled in a superior manner; the smile of a man who, if only he +would, could explain all things. He patted his daughter on the head with +a touch which was meant to be playful. + +"My little one," he said, "you are mistaken! Leave these matters to +those who are older and wiser than you. It is but just now that my good +friend said to me, 'Da Souza,' he say, 'I will not have you take your +little daughter away!' Oh, we shall see! We shall see!" + +Julie's tears crept through the fingers closely pressed over her eyes. + +"I do not believe it," she sobbed. "He has scarcely looked at me all the +time, and I do not want him to. He despises us all--and I don't blame +him. It is horrid!" + +Mrs. Da Souza, with a smile which was meant to be arch, had something to +say, but the arrival of breakfast broke up for a while the conversation. +Her husband, whom Nature had blessed with a hearty appetite at all +times, was this morning after his triumph almost disposed to be +boisterous. He praised the cooking, chaffed the servants to their +infinite disgust, and continually urged his wife and daughter to keep +pace with him in his onslaught upon the various dishes which were placed +before him. Before the meal was over Julie had escaped from the table +crying softly. Mr. Da Souza's face darkened as he looked up at the sound +of her movement, only to see her skirt vanishing through the door. + +"Shall you have trouble with her, my dear?" he asked his wife anxiously. + +That estimable lady shook her head with a placid smile. "Julie is so +sensitive," she muttered, "but she is not disobedient. When the time +comes I can make her mind." + +"But the time has come!" Da Souza exclaimed. "It is here now, and +Julie is sulky. She will have red eyes and she is not gay! She will not +attract him. You must speak with her, my dear." + +"I will go now--this instant," she answered, rising. "But, Hiram, there +is one thing I would much like to know." + +"Ugh! You women! You are always like that! There is so much that you +want to know!" + +"Most women, Hiram--not me! Do I ever seek to know your secrets? But +this time--yes, it would be wiser to tell me a little!" + +"Well?" + +"This Mr. Trent, he asked us here, but it is plain that our company is +not pleasant to him. He does his best to get rid of us--he succeeds--he +plans that we shall not return. You see him alone and all that is +altered. His little scheme has been in vain. We remain! He does not look +at our Julie. He speaks of marriage with contempt. Yet you say he will +marry her--he, a millionaire! What does it mean, Hiram?" + +"The man, he is in my power," Da Souza says in a ponderous and stealthy +whisper. "I know something." + +She rose and imprinted a solemn kiss upon his forehead. There was +something sacramental about the deliberate caress. + +"Hiram," she said, "you are a wonderful man!" + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Scarlett Trent spent the first part of the morning, to which he had been +looking forward so eagerly, alone in his study with locked door to keep +out all intruders. He had come face to face with the first serious check +in his career, and it had been dealt him too by the one man whom, of all +his associates, he disliked and despised. In the half-open drawer by his +side was the barrel of a loaded revolver. He drew it out, laid it on the +table before him, and regarded it with moody, fascinated eyes. If only +it could be safely done, if only for one moment he could find himself +face to face with Da Souza in Bekwando village, where human life was +cheap and the slaying of a man an incident scarcely worth noting in the +day's events! The thing was easy enough there--here it was too risky. He +thrust the weapon back into the drawer with a sigh of regret, just as Da +Souza himself appeared upon the scene. + +"You sent for me, Trent," the latter remarked timidly. "I am quite ready +to answer any more questions." + +"Answer this one, then," was the gruff reply. "In Buckomari village +before we left for England I was robbed of a letter. I don't think I +need ask you who was the thief." + +"Really, Trent--I--" + +"Don't irritate me; I'm in an ill humour for anything of that sort. You +stole it! I can see why now! Have you got it still?" + +The Jew shrugged his shoulders. + +"Yes." + +"Hand it over." + +Da Souza drew a large folding case from his pocket and after searching +through it for several moments produced an envelope. The handwriting was +shaky and irregular, and so faint that even in the strong, sweet light +of the morning sunshine Trent had difficulty in reading it. He tore it +open and drew out a half-sheet of coarse paper. It was a message from +the man who for long he had counted dead. + + +"BEKWANDO. + +"MY DEAR TRENT,-I have been drinking as usual! Some men see snakes, but +I have seen death leering at me from the dark corners of this vile hut, +and death is an evil thing to look at when one's life has been evil as +mine has been. Never mind! I have sown and I must reap! But, my friend, +a last word with you. I have a notion, and more than a notion, that I +shall never pass back alive through these pestilential swamps. If you +should arrive, as you doubtless will, here is a charge which I lay upon +you. That agreement of ours is scarcely a fair one, is it, Trent? When +I signed it, I wasn't quite myself. Never mind! I'll trust to you to do +what's fair. If the thing turns out a great success, put some sort of +a share at any rate to my credit and let my daughter have it. You will +find her address from Messrs. Harris and Culsom, Solicitors, Lincoln's +Inn Fields. You need only ask them for Monty's daughter and show them +this letter. They will understand. I believe you to be a just man, +Scarlett Trent, although I know you to be a hard one. Do then as I ask. + +"MONTY." + + +Da Souza had left the room quietly. Trent read the letter through twice +and locked it up in his desk. Then he rose and lit a pipe, knocking out +the ashes carefully and filling the bowl with dark but fragrant tobacco. +Presently he rang the bell. + +"Tell Mr. Da Souza I wish to see him here at once," he told the servant, +and, though the message was a trifle peremptory from a host to his +guest, Da Souza promptly appeared, suave and cheerful. + +"Shut the door," Trent said shortly. + +Da Souza obeyed with unabashed amiability. Trent watched him with +something like disgust. Da Souza returning caught the look, and felt +compelled to protest. + +"My dear Trent," he said, "I do not like the way you address me, or your +manners towards me. You speak as though I were a servant. I do not like +it all, and it is not fair. I am your guest, am I not?" + +"You are my guest by your own invitation," Trent answered roughly, "and +if you don't like my manners you can turn out. I may have to endure you +in the house till I have made up my mind how to get rid of you, but I +want as little of your company as possible. Do you hear?" + +Da Souza did hear it, and the worm turned. He sat down in the most +comfortable easy-chair, and addressed Trent directly. + +"My friend," he said, "you are out of temper, and that is a bad thing. +Now listen to me! You are in my power. I have only to go into the +City to-morrow and breathe here and there a word about a certain old +gentleman who shall be nameless, and you would be a ruined man in +something less than an hour; added to this, my friend, you would most +certainly be arrested for conspiracy and fraud. That Syndicate of yours +was a very smart stroke of business, no doubt, and it was clever of you +to keep me in ignorance of it, but as things have turned out now, +that will be your condemnation. They will say, why did you keep me in +ignorance of this move, and the answer--why, it is very clear! I knew +you were selling what was not yours to sell!" + +"I kept you away," Trent said scornfully, "because I was dealing with +men who would not have touched the thing if they had known that you were +in it!" + +"Who will believe it?" Da Souza asked, with a sneer. "They will say that +it is but one more of the fairy tales of this wonderful Mr. Scarlett +Trent." + +The breath came through Trent's lips with a little hiss and his eyes +were flashing with a dull fire. But Da Souza held his ground. He had +nerved himself up to this and he meant going through with it. + +"You think I dare not breathe a word for my own sake," he continued. +"There is reason in that, but I have other monies. I am rich enough +without my sixth share of that Bekwando Land and Mining Company which +you and the Syndicate are going to bring out! But then, I am not a fool! +I have no wish to throw away money. Now I propose to you therefore a +friendly settlement. My daughter Julie is very charming. You admire her, +I am sure. You shall marry her, and then we will all be one family. Our +interests will be the same, and you may be sure that I shall look after +them. Come! Is that not a friendly offer?" + +For several minutes Trent smoked furiously, but he did not speak. At the +end of that time he took the revolver once more from the drawer of his +writing-table and fingered it. + +"Da Souza," he said, "if I had you just for five minutes at Bekwando we +would talk together of black-mail, you and I, we would talk of marrying +your daughter. We would talk then to some purpose--you hound! Get out of +the room as fast as your legs will carry you. This revolver is loaded, +and I'm not quite master of myself." + +Da Souza made off with amazing celerity. Trent drew a short, quick +breath. There was a great deal of the wild beast left in him still. At +that moment the desire to kill was hot in his blood. His eyes glared as +he walked up and down the room. The years of civilisation seemed to have +become as nothing. The veneer of the City speculator had fallen away. +He was once more as he had been in those wilder days when men made +their own laws, and a man's hold upon life was a slighter thing than +his thirst for gold. As such, he found the atmosphere of the little room +choking him, he drew open the French windows of his little study and +strode out into the perfumed and sunlit morning. As such, he found +himself face to face unexpectedly and without warning with the girl whom +he had discovered sketching in the shrubbery the day before. + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Probably nothing else in the world could so soon have transformed +Scarlett Trent from the Gold Coast buccaneer to the law-abiding tenant +of a Surrey villa. Before her full, inquiring eyes and calm salute he +found himself at once abashed and confused. He raised his hand to his +head, only to find that he had come out without a hat, and he certainly +appeared, as he stood there, to his worst possible advantage. + +"Good morning, miss," he stammered; "I'm afraid I startled you!" + +She winced a little at his address, but otherwise her manner was not +ungracious. + +"You did a little," she admitted. "Do you usually stride out of your +windows like that, bareheaded and muttering to yourself?" + +"I was in a beastly temper," he admitted. "If I had known who was +outside--it would have been different." + +She looked into his face with some interest. "What an odd thing!" she +remarked. "Why, I should have thought that to-day you would have been +amiability itself. I read at breakfast-time that you had accomplished +something more than ordinarily wonderful in the City and had made--I +forget how many hundreds of thousands of pounds. When I showed the +sketch of your house to my chief, and told him that you were going to +let me interview you to-day, I really thought that he would have raised +my salary at once." + +"It's more luck than anything," he said. "I've stood next door to ruin +twice. I may again, although I'm a millionaire to-day." + +She looked at him curiously--at his ugly tweed suit, his yellow boots, +and up into the strong, forceful face with eyes set in deep hollows +under his protruding brows, at the heavy jaws giving a certain +coarseness to his expression, which his mouth and forehead, well-shaped +though they were, could not altogether dispel. And at he same time +he looked at her, slim, tall, and elegant, daintily clothed from her +shapely shoes to her sailor hat, her brown hair, parted in the middle, +escaping a little from its confinement to ripple about her forehead, and +show more clearly the delicacy of her complexion. Trent was an ignorant +man on many subjects, on others his taste seemed almost intuitively +correct. He knew that this girl belonged to a class from which his +descent and education had left him far apart, a class of which he knew +nothing, and with whom he could claim no kinship. She too was realising +it--her interest in him was, however, none the less deep. He was a +type of those powers which to-day hold the world in their hands, make +kingdoms tremble, and change the fate of nations. Perhaps he was all +the more interesting to her because, by all the ordinary standards of +criticism, he would fail to be ranked, in the jargon of her class, as a +gentleman. He represented something in flesh and blood which had never +seemed more than half real to her--power without education. She liked +to consider herself--being a writer with ambitions who took herself +seriously--a student of human nature. Here was a specimen worth +impaling, an original being, a creature of a new type such as never had +come within the region of her experience. It was worth while ignoring +small idiosyncrasies which might offend, in order to annex him. Besides, +from a journalistic point of view, the man was more than interesting--he +was a veritable treasure. + +"You are going to talk to me about Africa, are you not?" she reminded +him. "Couldn't we sit in the shade somewhere. I got quite hot walking +from the station." + +He led the way across the lawn, and they sat under a cedar-tree. He was +awkward and ill at ease, but she had tact enough for both. + +"I can't understand," he began, "how people are interested in the stuff +which gets into papers nowadays. If you want horrors though, I can +supply you. For one man who succeeds over there, there are a dozen who +find it a short cut down into hell. I can tell you if you like of my +days of starvation." + +"Go on!" + +Like many men who talk but seldom, he had the gift when he chose +to speak of reproducing his experiences in vivid though unpolished +language. He told her of the days when he had worked on the banks of the +Congo with the coolies, a slave in everything but name, when the sun had +burned the brains of men to madness, and the palm wine had turned them +into howling devils. He told her of the natives of Bekwando, of the days +they had spent amongst them in that squalid hut when their fate hung in +the balance day by day, and every shout that went up from the warriors +gathered round the house of the King was a cry of death. He spoke of +their ultimate success, of the granting of the concession which had laid +the foundation of his fortunes, and then of that terrible journey back +through the bush, followed by the natives who had already repented of +their action, and who dogged their footsteps hour after hour, waiting +for them only to sleep or rest to seize upon them and haul them back to +Bekwando, prisoners for the sacrifice. + +"It was only our revolvers which kept them away," he went on. "I shot +eight or nine of them at different times when they came too close, and +to hear them wailing over the bodies was one of the most hideous things +you can imagine. Why, for months and months afterwards I couldn't sleep. +I'd wake up in the night and fancy that I heard that cursed yelling +outside my window--ay, even on the steamer at night-time if I was on +deck before moonlight, I'd seem to hear it rising up out of the water. +Ugh!" + +She shuddered. + +"But you both escaped?" she said. + +There was a moment's silence. The shade of the cedar-tree was deep and +cool, but it brought little relief to Trent. The perspiration stood out +on his forehead in great beads, he breathed for a moment in little gasps +as though stifled. + +"No," he answered; "my partner died within a mile or two of the Coast. +He was very ill when we started, and I pretty well had to carry him the +whole of the last day. I did my best for him. I did, indeed, but it was +no good. I had to leave him. There was no use sacrificing oneself for a +dead man." + +She inclined her head sympathetically. + +"Was he an Englishman?" she asked. + +He faced the question just as he had faced death years before leering at +him, a few feet from the muzzle of his revolver. + +"He was an Englishman. The only name we had ever heard him called by was +'Monty.' Some said he was a broken-down gentleman. I believe he was." + +She was unconscious of his passionate, breathless scrutiny, unconscious +utterly of the great wave of relief which swept into his face as he +realised that his words were without any special meaning to her. + +"It was very sad indeed," she said. "If he had lived, he would have +shared with you, I suppose, in the concession?" + +Trent nodded. + +"Yes, we were equal partners. We had an arrangement by which, if one +died, the survivor took the lot. I didn't want it though, I'd rather he +had pulled through. I would indeed," he repeated with nervous force. + +"I am quite sure of that," she answered. "And now tell me something +about your career in the City after you came to England. Do you know, I +have scarcely ever been in what you financiers call the City. In a way +it must be interesting." + +"You wouldn't find it so," he said. "It is not a place for such as you. +It is a life of lies and gambling and deceit. There are times when I +have hated it. I hate it now!" + +She was unaffectedly surprised. What a speech for a millionaire of +yesterday! + +"I thought," she said, "that for those who took part in it, it possessed +a fascination stronger than anything else in the world." + +He shook his head. + +"It is an ugly fascination," he said. "You are in the swim, and you must +hold your own. You gamble with other men, and when you win you chuckle. +All the time you're whittling your conscience away--if ever you had any. +You're never quite dishonest, and you're never quite honest. You come +out on top, and afterwards you hate yourself. It's a dirty little life!" + +"Well," she remarked after a moment's pause, "you have surprised me very +much. At any rate you are rich enough now to have no more to do with +it." + +He kicked a fir cone savagely away. + +"If I could," he said, "I would shut up my office to-morrow, sell out, +and live upon a farm. But I've got to keep what I've made. The more you +succeed the more involved you become. It's a sort of slavery." + +"Have you no friends?" she asked. + +"I have never," he answered, "had a friend in my life." + +"You have guests at any rate!" + +"I sent 'em away last night!" + +"What, the young lady in blue?" she asked demurely. + +"Yes, and the other one too. Packed them clean off, and they're not +coming back either!" + +"I am very pleased to hear it," she remarked. + +"There's a man and his wife and daughter here I can't get rid of quite +so easily," he went on gloomily, "but they've got to go!" + +"They would be less objectionable to the people round here who might +like to come and see you," she remarked, "than two unattached young +ladies." + +"May be," he answered. "Yet I'd give a lot to be rid of them." + +He had risen to his feet and was standing with his back to the +cedar-tree, looking away with fixed eyes to where the sunlight fell upon +a distant hillside gorgeous with patches and streaks of yellow gorse and +purple heather. Presently she noticed his abstraction and looked also +through the gap in the trees. + +"You have a beautiful view here," she said. "You are fond of the +country, are you not?" + +"Very," he answered. + +"It is not every one," she remarked, "who is able to appreciate it, +especially when their lives have been spent as yours must have been." + +He looked at her curiously. "I wonder," he said, "if you have any idea +how my life has been spent." + +"You have given me," she said, "a very fair idea about some part of it +at any rate." + +He drew a long breath and looked down at her. + +"I have given you no idea at all," he said firmly. "I have told you a +few incidents, that is all. You have talked to me as though I were an +equal. Listen! you are probably the first lady with whom I have ever +spoken. I do not want to deceive you. I never had a scrap of education. +My father was a carpenter who drank himself to death, and my mother was +a factory girl. I was in the workhouse when I was a boy. I have never +been to school. I don't know how to talk properly, but I should be worse +even than I am, if I had not had to mix up with a lot of men in the City +who had been properly educated. I am utterly and miserably ignorant. +I've got low tastes and lots of 'em. I was drunk a few nights ago--I've +done most of the things men who are beasts do. There! Now, don't you +want to run away?" + +She shook her head and smiled up at him. She was immensely interested. + +"If that is the worst," she said gently, "I am not at all frightened. +You know that it is my profession to write about men and women. I belong +to a world of worn-out types, and to meet any one different is quite a +luxury." + +"The worst!" A sudden fear sent an icy coldness shivering through his +veins. His heart seemed to stop beating, his cheeks were blanched. +The worst of him. He had not told her that he was a robber, that the +foundation of his fortunes was a lie; that there lived a man who might +bring all this great triumph of his shattered and crumbling about his +ears. A passionate fear lest she might ever know of these things was +born in his heart at that moment, never altogether to leave him. + +The sound of a footstep close at hand made them both turn their heads. +Along the winding path came Da Souza, with an ugly smirk upon his white +face, smoking a cigar whose odour seemed to poison the air. Trent turned +upon him with a look of thunder. + +"What do you want here, Da Souza?" he asked fiercely. + +Da Souza held up the palms of his hands. + +"I was strolling about," he said, "and I saw you through the trees. I +did not know that you were so pleasantly engaged," he added, with a wave +of his hat to the girl, "or I would not have intruded." + +Trent kicked open the little iron gate which led into the garden beyond. + +"Well, get out, and don't come here again," he said shortly. "There's +plenty of room for you to wander about and poison the air with those +abominable cigars of yours without coming here." + +Da Souza replaced his hat upon his head. "The cigars, my friend, are +excellent. We cannot all smoke the tobacco of a millionaire, can we, +miss?" + +The girl, who was making some notes in her book, continued her work +without the slightest appearance of having heard him. + +Da Souza snorted, but at that moment he felt a grip like iron upon his +shoulder, and deemed retreat expedient. + +"If you don't go without another word," came a hot whisper in his ear, +"I'll throw you into the horse-pond." + +He went swiftly, ungracious, scowling. Trent returned to the girl. She +looked up at him and closed her book. + +"You must change your friends," she said gravely. "What a horrible man!" + +"He is a beast," Trent answered, "and go he shall. I would to Heaven +that I had never seen him." + +She rose, slipped her note-book into her pocket, and drew on her gloves. + +"I have taken up quite enough of your time," she said. "I am so much +obliged to you, Mr. Trent, for all you have told me. It has been most +interesting." + +She held out her hand, and the touch of it sent his heart beating with +a most unusual emotion. He was aghast at the idea of her imminent +departure. He realised that, when she passed out of his gate, she passed +into a world where she would be hopelessly lost to him, so he took his +courage into his hands, and was very bold indeed. + +"You have not told me your name," he reminded her. + +She laughed lightly. + +"How very unprofessional of me! I ought to have given you a card! For +all you know I may be an impostor, indulging an unpardonable curiosity. +My name is Wendermott--Ernestine Wendermott." + +He repeated it after her. + +"Thank you," he said. "I am beginning to think of some more things which +I might have told you." + +"Why, I should have to write a novel then to get them all in," she said. +"I am sure you have given me all the material I need here." + +"I am going," he said abruptly, "to ask you something very strange and +very presumptuous!" + +She looked at him in surprise, scarcely understanding what he could +mean. + +"May I come and see you some time?" + +The earnestness of his gaze and the intense anxiety of his tone almost +disconcerted her. He was obviously very much in earnest, and she had +found him far from uninteresting. + +"By all means," she answered pleasantly, "if you care to. I have a +little flat in Culpole Street--No. 81. You must come and have tea with +me one afternoon." + +"Thank you," he said simply, with a sigh of immense relief. + +He walked with her to the gate, and they talked about rhododendrons. + +Then he watched her till she became a speck in the dusty road--she +had refused a carriage, and he had had tact enough not to press any +hospitality upon her. + +"His little girl!" he murmured. "Monty's little girl!" + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Ernestine Wendermott travelled back to London in much discomfort, +being the eleventh occupant of a third-class carriage in a particularly +unpunctual and dilatory train. Arrived at Waterloo, she shook out her +skirts with a little gesture of relief and started off to walk to the +Strand. Half-way across the bridge she came face to face with a tall, +good-looking young man who was hurrying in the opposite direction. He +stopped short as he recognised her, dropped his eyeglass, and uttered a +little exclamation of pleasure. + +"Ernestine, by all that's delightful! I am in luck to-day!" + +She smiled slightly and gave him her hand, but it was evident that this +meeting was not wholly agreeable to her. + +"I don't quite see where the luck comes in," she answered. "I have no +time to waste talking to you now. I am in a hurry." + +"You will allow me," he said hopefully, "to walk a little way with you?" + +"I am not able to prevent it--if you think it worth while," she +answered. + +He looked down--he was by her side now--in good-humoured protest. + +"Come, Ernestine," he said, "you mustn't bear malice against me. Perhaps +I was a little hasty when I spoke so strongly about your work. I don't +like your doing it and never shall like it, but I've said all I want to. +You won't let it divide us altogether, will you?" + +"For the present," she answered, "it occupies the whole of my time, and +the whole of my thoughts." + +"To the utter exclusion, I suppose," he remarked, "of me?" + +She laughed gaily. + +"My dear Cecil! when have I ever led you to suppose for a moment that I +have ever wasted any time thinking of you?" + +He was determined not to be annoyed, and he ignored both the speech and +the laugh. + +"May I inquire how you are getting on?" + +"I am getting on," she answered, "very well indeed. The Editor is +beginning to say very nice things to me, and already the men treat me +just as though I were a comrade! It is so nice of them!" + +"Is it?" he muttered doubtfully. + +"I have just finished," she continued, "the most important piece of work +they have trusted me with yet, and I have been awfully lucky. I have +been to interview a millionaire!" + +"A man?" + +She nodded. "Of course!" + +"It isn't fit work for you," he exclaimed hastily. + +"You will forgive me if I consider myself the best judge of that," she +answered coldly. "I am a journalist, and so long as it is honest work my +sex doesn't count. If every one whom I have to see is as courteous to me +as Mr. Trent has been, I shall consider myself very lucky indeed." + +"As who?" he cried. + +She looked up at him in surprise. They were at the corner of the Strand, +but as though in utter forgetfulness of their whereabouts, he had +suddenly stopped short and gripped her tightly by the arm. She shook +herself free with a little gesture of annoyance. + +"Whatever is the matter with you, Cecil? Don't gape at me like that, and +come along at once, unless you want to be left behind. Yes, we are very +short-handed and the chief let me go down to see Mr. Trent. He didn't +expect for a moment that I should get him to talk to me, but I did, and +he let me sketch the house. I am awfully pleased with myself I can tell +you." + +The young man walked by her side for a moment in silence. She looked up +at him casually as they crossed the street, and something in his face +surprised her. + +"Why, Cecil, what on earth is the matter with you?" she exclaimed. + +He looked down at her with a new seriousness. + +"I was thinking," he said, "how oddly things turn out. So you have been +down to interview Mr. Scarlett Trent for a newspaper, and he was civil +to you!" + +"Well, I don't see anything odd about that," she exclaimed impatiently. +"Don't be so enigmatical. If you've anything to say, say it! Don't look +at me like an owl!" + +"I have a good deal to say to you," he answered gravely. "How long shall +you be at the office?" + +"About an hour--perhaps longer." + +"I will wait for you!" + +"I'd rather you didn't. I don't want them to think that I go trailing +about with an escort." + +"Then may I come down to your flat? I have something really important to +say to you, Ernestine. It does not concern myself at all. It is wholly +about you. It is something which you ought to know." + +"You are trading upon my curiosity for the sake of a tea," she laughed. +"Very well, about five o'clock." + +He bowed and walked back westwards with a graver look than usual upon +his boyish face, for he had a task before him which was very little to +his liking. Ernestine swung open the entrance door to the "Hour", and +passed down the rows of desks until she reached the door at the further +end marked "Sub-Editor." She knocked and was admitted at once. + +A thin, dark young man, wearing a pince-nez and smoking a cigarette, +looked up from his writing as she entered. He waved her to a seat, but +his pen never stopped for a second. + +"Back, Miss Wendermott! Very good! What did you get?" + +"Interview and sketch of the house," she responded briskly. + +"Interview by Jove! That's good! Was he very difficult?" + +"Ridiculously easy! Told me everything I asked and a lot more. If +I could have got it all down in his own language it would have been +positively thrilling." + +The sub-editor scribbled in silence for a moment or two. He had reached +an important point in his own work. His pen went slower, hesitated for a +moment, and then dashed on with renewed vigour. + +"Read the first few sentences of what you've got," he remarked. + +Ernestine obeyed. To all appearance the man was engrossed in his own +work, but when she paused he nodded his head appreciatively. + +"It'll do!" he said. "Don't try to polish it. Give it down, and see that +the proofs are submitted to me. Where's the sketch?" + +She held it out to him. For a moment he looked away from his own work +and took the opportunity to light a fresh cigarette. Then he nodded, +hastily scrawled some dimensions on the margin of the little drawing and +settled down again to work. + +"It'll do," he said. "Give it to Smith. Come back at eight to look at +your proofs after I've done with them. Good interview! Good sketch! +You'll do, Miss Wendermott." + +She went out laughing softly. This was quite the longest conversation +she had ever had with the chief. She made her way to the side of the +first disengaged typist, and sitting in an easy-chair gave down her +copy, here and there adding a little but leaving it mainly in the rough. +She knew whose hand, with a few vigorous touches would bring the whole +thing into the form which the readers of the "Hour", delighted in, and +she was quite content to have it so. The work was interesting and more +than an hour had passed before she rose and put on her gloves. + +"I am coming back at eight," she said, "but the proofs are to go in to +Mr. Darrel! Nothing come in for me, I suppose?" + +The girl shook her head, so Ernestine walked out into the street. Then +she remembered Cecil Davenant and his strange manner--the story which +he was even now waiting to tell her. She looked at her watch and after a +moment's hesitation called a hansom. + +81, Culpole Street, she told him. "This is a little extravagant," she +said to herself as the man wheeled his horse round, "but to-day I think +that I have earned it." + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +"Ernestine," he said gravely, "I am going to speak to you about your +father!" + +She looked up at him in swift surprise. + +"Is it necessary?" + +"I think so," he answered. "You won't like what I'm going to tell you! +You'll think you've been badly treated. So you have! I pledged my word, +in a weak hour, with the others. To-day I'm going to break it. I think +it best." + +"Well?" + +"You've been deceived! You were told always that your father had died in +prison. He didn't." + +"What!" + +Her sharp cry rang out strangely into the little room. Already he could +see signs of the coming storm, and the task which lay before him seemed +more hateful than ever. + +"Listen," he said. "I must tell you some things which you know in order +to explain others which you do not know. Your father was a younger son +born of extravagant parents, virtually penniless and without the least +capacity for earning money. I don't blame him--who could? I couldn't +earn money myself. If I hadn't got it I daresay that I should go to the +bad as he did." + +The girl's lips tightened, and she drew a little breath through her +teeth. Davenant hesitated. + +"You know all about that company affair. Of course they made your father +the butt of the whole thing, although he was little more than a tool. He +was sent to prison for seven years. You were only a child then and your +mother was dead. Well, when the seven years were up, your relations +and mine too, Ernestine, concocted what I have always considered an +ill-begotten and a miserably selfish plot. Your father, unfortunately, +yielded to them, for your sake. You were told that he had died in +prison. He did not. He lived through his seven years there, and when he +came out did so in another name and went abroad on the morning of the +day of his liberation." + +"Good God!" she cried. "And now!" + +"He is dead," Davenant answered hastily, "but only just lately. Wait +a minute. You are going to be furiously angry. I know it, and I don't +blame you. Only listen for a moment. The scheme was hatched up between +my father and your two uncles. I have always hated it and always +protested against it. Remember that and be fair to me. This is how they +reasoned. Your father's health, they said, was ruined, and if he lives +the seven years what is there left for him when he comes out? He was a +man, as you know, of aristocratic and fastidious tastes. He would have +the best of everything--society, clubs, sport. Now all these were barred +against him. If he had reappeared he could not have shown his face in +Pall Mall, or on the racecourses, and every moment of his life would be +full of humiliations and bitterness. Virtually then, for such a man as +he was, life in England was over. Then there was you. You were a pretty +child and the Earl had no children. If your father was dead the story +would be forgotten, you would marry brilliantly and an ugly page in the +family history would be blotted out. That was how they looked at it--it +was how they put it to your father." + +"He consented?" + +"Yes, he consented! He saw the wisdom of it for your sake, for the sake +of the family, even for his own sake. The Earl settled an income upon +him and he left England secretly on the morning of his release. We had +the news of his death only a week or two ago." + +She stood up, her eyes blazing, her hands clenched together. + +"I thank God," she said "that I have found the courage to break away +from those people and take a little of my life into my own hands. You +can tell them this if you will, Cecil,--my uncle Lord Davenant, your +mother, and whoever had a say in this miserable affair. Tell them from +me that I know the truth and that they are a pack of cowardly, unnatural +old women. Tell them that so long as I live I will never willingly +speak to one of them again. + +"I was afraid you'd take it like that," he remarked dolefully. + +"Take it like that!" she repeated in fierce scorn. "How else could a +woman hear such news? How else do you suppose she could feel to be told +that she had been hoodwinked, and kept from her duty and a man's heart +very likely broken, to save the respectability of a worn-out old family. +Oh, how could they have dared to do it? How could they have dared to do +it?" + +"It was a beastly mistake," he admitted. + +A whirlwind of scorn seemed to sweep over her. She could keep still no +longer. She walked up and down the little room. Her hands were clenched, +her eyes flashing. + +"To tell me that he was dead--to let him live out the rest of his poor +life in exile and alone! Did they think that I didn't care? Cecil," she +exclaimed, suddenly turning and facing him, "I always loved my father! +You may think that I was too young to remember him--I wasn't, I loved +him always. When I grew up and they told me of his disgrace I was +bitterly sorry, for I loved his memory--but it made no difference. +And all the time it was a weak, silly lie! They let him come out, poor +father, without a friend to speak to him and they hustled him out of the +country. And I, whose place was there with him, never knew!" + +"You were only a child, Ernestine. It was twelve years ago." + +"Child! I may have been only a child, but I should have been old enough +to know where my place was. Thank God I have done with these people and +their disgusting shibboleth of respectability." + +"You are a little violent," he remarked. + +"Pshaw!" She flashed a look of scorn upon him. "You don't understand! +How should you, you are of their kidney--you're only half a man. +Thank God that my mother was of the people! I'd have died to have gone +smirking through life with a brick for a heart and milk and water in my +veins! Of all the stupid pieces of brutality I ever heard of, this is +the most callous and the most heartbreaking." + +"It was a great mistake," he said, "but I believe they did it for the +best." + +She sat down with a little gesture of despair. + +"I really think you'd better go away, Cecil," she said. "You exasperate +me too horribly. I shall strike you or throw something at you soon. Did +it for the best! What a miserable whine! Poor dear old dad, to think +that they should have done this thing." + +She buried her face in her handkerchief and sobbed for the second time +since her childhood. Davenant was wise enough to attempt no sort of +consolation. He leaned a little forward and hid his own face with the +palm of his hand. When at last she looked up her face had cleared and +her tone was less bitter. It would have gone very hard with the Earl of +Eastchester, however, if he had called to see his niece just then. + +"Well," she said, "I want to know now why, after keeping silent all this +time, you thought it best to tell me the truth this afternoon?" + +"Because," he answered, "you told me that you had just been to see +Scarlett Trent!" + +"And what on earth had that to do with it?" + +"Because Scarlett Trent was with your father when he died. They were on +an excursion somewhere up in the bush--the very excursion that laid the +foundation of Trent's fortune." + +"Go on," she cried. "Tell me all that you know! this is wonderful!" + +"Well, I am glad to tell you this at any rate," he said. "I always liked +your father and I saw him off when he left England, and have written to +him often since. I believe I was his only correspondent in this country, +except his solicitors. He had a very adventurous and, I am afraid, not a +very happy time. He never wrote cheerfully, and he mortgaged the greater +part of his income. I don't blame him for anything he did. A man needs +some responsibility, or some one dependent upon him to keep straight. To +be frank with you, I don't think he did." + +"Poor dad," she murmured, "of course he didn't! I know I'd have gone to +the devil as fast as I could if I'd been treated like it!" + +"Well, he drifted about from place to place and at last he got to the +Gold Coast. Here I half lost sight of him, and his few letters were more +bitter and despairing than ever. The last I had told me that he was just +off on an expedition into the interior with another Englishman. +They were to visit a native King and try to obtain from him certain +concessions, including the right to work a wonderful gold-mine somewhere +near the village of Bekwando." + +"Why, the great Bekwando Land Company!" she cried. "It is the one +Scarlett Trent has just formed a syndicate to work." + +Davenant nodded. + +"Yes. It was a terrible risk they were running," he said, "for the +people were savage and the climate deadly. He wrote cheerfully for him, +though. He had a partner, he said, who was strong and determined, and +they had presents, to get which he had mortgaged the last penny of his +income. It was a desperate enterprise perhaps, but it suited him, and +he went on to tell me this, Ernestine. If he succeeded and he became +wealthy, he was returning to England just for a sight of you. He was +so changed, he said, that no one in the world would recognise him. Poor +fellow! It was the last line I had from him." + +"And you are sure," Ernestine said slowly, "that Scarlett Trent was his +partner?" + +"Absolutely. Trent's own story clinches the matter. The prospectus of +the mine quotes the concession as having been granted to him by the King +of Bekwando in the same month as your father wrote to me." + +"And what news," she asked, "have you had since?" + +"Only this letter--I will read it to you--from one of the missionaries +of the Basle Society. I heard nothing for so long that I made inquiries, +and this is the result." + +Ernestine took it and read it out steadily. + + +"FORTNRENIG. + +"DEAR Sir,--In reply to your letter and inquiry, respecting the +whereabouts of a Mr. Richard Grey, the matter was placed in my hands by +the agent of Messrs. Castle, and I have personally visited 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. + +"I regret very much having to send you such sad and scanty news in +return for your handsome donation to our funds. I have made every +inquiry, but cannot trace any personal effects or letter. Mr. Grey, I +find, was known out here altogether by the nickname of Monty. + +"I deeply regret the pain which this letter will doubtless cause you, and +trusting that you may seek and receive consolation where alone it may be +found, + +"I am, + +"Yours most sincerely, + +"Chas. ADDISON." + + +Ernestine read the letter carefully through, and instead of handing it +back to Davenant, put it into her pocket when she rose up. "Cecil," she +said, "I want you to leave me at once! You may come back to-morrow at +the same time. I am going to think this out quietly." + +He took up his hat. "There is one thing more, Ernestine," he said +slowly. "Enclosed in the letter from the missionary at Attra was another +and a shorter note, which, in accordance with his request, I burnt as +soon as I read it. I believe the man was honest when he told me that +for hours he had hesitated whether to send me those few lines or not. +Eventually he decided to do so, but he appealed to my honour to destroy +the note as soon as I had read it." + +"Well!" + +"He thought it his duty to let me know that there had been rumours as +to how your father met his death. Trent, it seems, had the reputation of +being a reckless and daring man, and, according to some agreement which +they had, he profited enormously by your father's death. There seems to +have been no really definite ground for the rumour except that the body +was not found where Trent said that he had died. Apart from that, +life is held cheap out there, and although your father was in delicate +health, his death under such conditions could not fail to be suspicious. +I hope I haven't said too much. I've tried to put it to you exactly as +it was put to me!" + +"Thank you," Ernestine said, "I think I understand." + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +Dinner at the Lodge that night was not a very lively affair. Trent had +great matters in his brain and was not in the least disposed to make +conversation for the sake of his unbidden guests. Da Souza's few remarks +he treated with silent contempt, and Mrs. Da Souza he answered only in +monosyllables. Julie, nervous and depressed, stole away before dessert, +and Mrs. Da Souza soon followed her, very massive, and frowning with +an air of offended dignity. Da Souza, who opened the door for them, +returned to his seat, moodily flicking the crumbs from his trousers with +his serviette. + +"Hang it all, Trent," he remarked in an aggrieved tone, "you might be a +bit more amiable! Nice lively dinner for the women I must say." + +"One isn't usually amiable to guests who stay when they're not asked," +Trent answered gruffly. "However, if I hadn't much to say to your wife +and daughter, I have a word or two to say to you, so fill up your glass +and listen." + +Da Souza obeyed, but without heartiness. He stretched himself out in his +chair and looked down thoughtfully at the large expanse of shirt-front, +in the centre of which flashed an enormous diamond. + +"I've been into the City to-day as you know," Trent continued, "and I +found as I expected that you have been making efforts to dispose of your +share in the Bekwando Syndicate." + +"I can assure you--" + +"Oh rot!" Trent interrupted. "I know what I'm talking about. I won't +have you sell out. Do you hear? If you try it on I'll queer the +market for you at any risk. I won't marry your daughter, I won't be +blackmailed, and I won't be bullied. We're in this together, sink or +swim. If you pull me down you've got to come too. I'll admit that if +Monty were to present himself in London to-morrow and demand his full +pound of flesh we should be ruined, but he isn't going to do it. By +your own showing there is no immediate risk, and you've got to leave the +thing in my hands to do what I think best. If you play any hanky-panky +tricks--look here, Da Souza, I'll kill you, sure! Do you hear? I could +do it, and no one would be the wiser so far as I was concerned. You take +notice of what I say, Da Souza. You've made a fortune, and be satisfied. +That's all!" + +"You won't marry Julie, then?" Da Souza said gloomily. + +"No, I'm shot if I will!" Trent answered. "And look here, Da Souza, +I'm leaving here for town to-morrow--taken a furnished flat in Dover +Street--you can stay here if you want, but there'll only be a caretaker +in the place. That's all I've got to say. Make yourself at home with the +port and cigars. Last night, you know! You'll excuse me! I want a breath +of fresh air." + +Trent strolled through the open window into the garden, and breathed +a deep sigh of relief. He was a free man again now. He had created new +dangers--a new enemy to face--but what did he care? All his life had +been spent in facing dangers and conquering enemies. What he had done +before he could do again! As he lit a pipe and walked to and fro, he +felt that this new state of things lent a certain savour to life--took +from it a certain sensation of finality not altogether agreeable, which +his recent great achievements in the financial world seemed to have +inspired. After all, what could Da Souza do? His prosperity was +altogether bound up in the success of the Bekwando Syndicate--he was +never the man to kill the goose which was laying such a magnificent +stock of golden eggs. The affair, so far as he was concerned, troubled +him scarcely at all on cool reflection. As he drew near the little +plantation he even forgot all about it. Something else was filling his +thoughts! + +The change in him became physical as well as mental. The hard face of +the man softened, what there was of coarseness in its rugged outline +became altogether toned down. He pushed open the gate with fingers which +were almost reverent; he came at last to a halt in the exact spot where +he had seen her first. Perhaps it was at that moment he realised most +completely and clearly the curious thing which had come to him--to him +of all men, hard-hearted, material, an utter stranger in the world of +feminine things. With a pleasant sense of self-abandonment he groped +about, searching for its meaning. He was a man who liked to understand +thoroughly everything he saw and felt, and this new atmosphere in which +he found himself was a curious source of excitement to him. Only he knew +that the central figure of it all was this girl, that he had come out +here to think about her, and that henceforth she had become to him the +standard of those things which were worth having in life. Everything +about her had been a revelation to him. The women whom he had come +across in his battle upwards, barmaids and their fellows, fifth-rate +actresses, occasionally the suburban wife of a prosperous City man, had +impressed him only with a sort of coarse contempt. It was marvellous how +thoroughly and clearly he had recognised Ernestine at once as a type of +that other world of womenkind, of which he admittedly knew nothing. Yet +it was so short a time since she had wandered into his life, so short a +time that he was even a little uneasy at the wonderful strength of this +new passion, a thing which had leaped up like a forest tree in a world +of magic, a live, fully-grown thing, mighty and immovable in a single +night. He found himself thinking of all the other things in life from a +changed standpoint. His sense of proportions was altered, his financial +triumphs were no longer omnipotent. He was inclined even to brush them +aside, to consider them more as an incident in his career. He associated +her now with all those plans concerning the future which he had been +dimly formulating since the climax of his successes had come. She was of +the world which he sought to enter--at once the stimulus and the object +of his desires. He forgot all about Da Souza and his threats, about the +broken-down, half-witted old man who was gazing with wistful eyes across +the ocean which kept him there, an exile--he remembered nothing save the +wonderful, new thing which had come into his life. A month ago he would +have scoffed at the idea of there being anything worth considering +outside the courts and alleys of the money-changers' market. To-night he +knew of other things. To-night he knew that all he had done so far was +as nothing--that as yet his foot was planted only on the threshold of +life, and in the path along which he must hew his way lay many fresh +worlds to conquer. To-night he told himself that he was equal to them +all. There was something out here in the dim moonlight, something +suggested by the shadows, the rose-perfumed air, the delicate and +languid stillness, which crept into his veins and coursed through his +blood like magic. + + * * * * * + +Yet every now and then the same thought came; it lay like a small but +threatening black shadow across all those brilliant hopes and dreams +which were filling his brain. So far he had played the game of life as a +hard man, perhaps, and a selfish one, but always honestly. Now, for the +first time, he had stepped aside from the beaten track. He told himself +that he was not bound to believe Da Souza's story, that he had left +Monty with the honest conviction that he was past all human help. Yet +he knew that such consolation was the merest sophistry. Through the +twilight, as he passed to and fro, he fancied more than once that the +wan face of an old man, with wistful, sorrowing eyes, was floating +somewhere before him--and he stopped to listen with bated breath to +the wind rustling in the elm-trees, fancying he could bear that same +passionate cry ringing still in his ears--the cry of an old man parted +from his kin and waiting for death in a lonely land. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +Ernestine found a letter on her plate a few mornings afterwards which +rather puzzled her. It was from a firm of solicitors in Lincoln's +Inn--the Eastchester family solicitors--requesting her to call that +morning to see them on important business. There was not a hint as +to the nature of it, merely a formal line or two and a signature. +Ernestine, who had written insulting letters to all her relatives during +the last few days, smiled as she laid it down. Perhaps the family had +called upon Mr. Cuthbert to undertake their defence and bring her round +to a reasonable view of things. The idea was amusing enough, but her +first impulse was not to go. Nothing but the combination of an idle +morning and a certain measure of curiosity induced her to keep the +appointment. + +She was evidently expected, for she was shown at once into the private +office of the senior partner. The clerk who ushered her in pronounced +her name indistinctly, and the elderly man who rose from his chair at +her entrance looked at her inquiringly. + +"I am Miss Wendermott," she said, coming forward. "I had a letter from +you this morning; you wished to see me, I believe." + +Mr. Cuthbert dropped at once his eyeglass and his inquiring gaze, and +held out his hand. + +"My dear Miss Wendermott," he said, "you must pardon the failing +eyesight of an old man. To be sure you are, to be sure. Sit down, Miss +Wendermott, if you please. Dear me, what a likeness!" + +"You mean to my father?" she asked quietly. + +"To your father, certainly, poor, dear old boy! You must excuse me, Miss +Wendermott. Your father and I were at Eton together, and I think I may +say that we were always something more than lawyer and client--a good +deal more, a good deal more! He was a fine fellow at heart--a fine, dear +fellow. Bless me, to think that you are his daughter!" + +"It's very nice to hear you speak of him so, Mr. Cuthbert," she said. +"My father may have been very foolish--I suppose he was really worse +than foolish--but I think that he was most abominably and shamefully +treated, and so long as I live I shall never forgive those who were +responsible for it. I don't mean you, Mr. Cuthbert, of course. I mean my +grand-father and my uncle." Mr. Cuthbert shook his head slowly. + +"The Earl," he said, "was a very proud man--a very proud man." + +"You may call it pride," she exclaimed. "I call it rank and brutal +selfishness! They had no right to force such a sacrifice upon him. He +would have been content, I am sure, to have lived quietly in England--to +have kept out of their way, to have conformed to their wishes in any +reasonable manner. But to rob him of home and friends and family and +name--well, may God call them to account for it, and judge them as they +judged him!" + +"I was against it," he said sadly, "always." + +"So Mr. Davenant told me," she said. "I can't quite forgive you, Mr. +Cuthbert, for letting me grow up and be so shamefully imposed upon, but +of course I don't blame you as I do the others. I am only thankful +that I have made myself independent of my relations. I think, after the +letters which I wrote to them last night, they will be quite content to +let me remain where they put my father--outside their lives." + +"I had heard," Mr. Cuthbert said hesitatingly, "that you were following +some occupation. Something literary, is it not?" + +"I am a journalist," Ernestine answered promptly, "and I'm proud to say +that I am earning my own living." + +He looked at her with a fine and wonderful curiosity. In his way he was +quite as much one of the old school as the Earl of Eastchester, and +the idea of a lady--a Wendermott, too--calling herself a journalist +and proud of making a few hundreds a year was amazing enough to him. He +scarcely knew how to answer her. + +"Yes, yes," he said, "you have some of your father's spirit, some of his +pluck too. And that reminds me--we wrote to you to call." + +"Yes." + +"Mr. Davenant has told you that your father was engaged in some +enterprise with this wonderful Mr. Scarlett Trent, when he died." + +"Yes! He told me that!" + +"Well, I have had a visit just recently from that gentleman. It seems +that your father when he was dying spoke of his daughter in England, and +Mr. Trent is very anxious now to find you out, and speaks of a large sum +of money which he wishes to invest in your name." + +"He has been a long time thinking about it," Ernestine remarked. + +"He explained that," Mr. Cuthbert continued, "in this way. Your father +gave him our address when he was dying, but the envelope on which it +was written got mislaid, and he only came across it a day or two ago. He +came to see me at once, and he seems prepared to act very handsomely. He +pressed very hard indeed for your name and address, but I did not feel +at liberty to disclose them before seeing you." + +"You were quite right, Mr. Cuthbert," she answered. "I suppose this is +the reason why Mr. Davenant has just told me the whole miserable story." + +"It is one reason," he admitted, "but in any case I think that Mr. +Davenant had made up his mind that you should know." + +"Mr. Trent, I suppose, talks of this money as a present to me?" + +"He did not speak of it in that way," Mr. Cuthbert answered, "but in a +sense that is, of course, what it amounts to. At the same time I should +like to say that under the peculiar circumstances of the case I should +consider you altogether justified in accepting it." + +Ernestine drew herself up. Once more in her finely flashing eyes and +resolute air the lawyer was reminded of his old friend. + +"I will tell you what I should call it, Mr. Cuthbert," she said, "I will +tell you what I believe it is! It is blood-money." + +Mr. Cuthbert dropped his eyeglass, and rose from his chair, startled. + +"Blood-money! My dear young lady! Blood-money!" + +"Yes! You have heard the whole story, I suppose! What did it sound like +to you? A valuable concession granted to two men, one old, the other +young! one strong, the other feeble! yet the concession read, if one +should die the survivor should take the whole. Who put that in, do you +suppose? Not my father! you may be sure of that. And one of them does +die, and Scarlett Trent is left to take everything. Do you think that +reasonable? I don't. Now, you say, after all this time he is fired +with a sudden desire to behave handsomely to the daughter of his dead +partner. Fiddlesticks! I know Scarlett Trent, although he little knows +who I am, and he isn't that sort of man at all. He'd better have kept +away from you altogether, for I fancy he's put his neck in the noose +now! I do not want his money, but there is something I do want from Mr. +Scarlett Trent, and that is the whole knowledge of my father's death." + +Mr. Cuthbert sat down heavily in his chair. + +"But, my dear young lady," he said, "you do not suspect Mr. Trent +of--er--making away with your father!' + +"And why not? According to his own showing they were alone together when +he died. What was to prevent it? I want to know more about it, and I am +going to, if I have to travel to the Gold Coast myself. I will tell you +frankly, Mr. Cuthbert--I suspect Mr. Scarlett Trent. No, don't interrupt +me. It may seem absurd to you now that he is Mr. Scarlett Trent, +millionaire, with the odour of civilisation clinging to him, and the +respectability of wealth. But I, too, have seen him, and I have heard +him talk. He has helped me to see the other man--half-savage, splendidly +masterful, forging his way through to success by sheer pluck and +unswerving obstinacy. Listen, I admire your Mr. Trent! He is a man, +and when he speaks to you you know that he was born with a destiny. But +there is the other side. Do you think that he would let a man's life +stand in his way? Not he! He'd commit a murder, or would have done in +those days, as readily as you or I would sweep away a fly. And it +is because he is that sort of man that I want to know more about my +father's death." + +"You are talking of serious things, Miss Wendermott," Mr. Cuthbert said +gravely. + +"Why not? Why shirk them? My father's death was a serious thing, wasn't +it? I want an account of it from the only man who can render it." + +"When you disclose yourself to Mr. Trent I should say that he would +willingly give you--" + +She interrupted him, coming over and standing before him, leaning +against his table, and looking him in the face. + +"You don't understand. I am not going to disclose myself! You will reply +to Mr. Trent that the daughter of his old partner is not in need of +charity, however magnificently tendered. You understand?" + +"I understand, Miss Wendermott." + +"As to her name or whereabouts you are not at liberty to disclose them. +You can let him think, if you will, that she is tarred with the same +brush as those infamous and hypocritical relatives of hers who sent her +father out to die." + +Mr. Cuthbert shook his head. + +"I think, young lady, if you will allow me to say so that you are making +a needless mystery of the matter, and further, that you are embarking +upon what will certainly prove to be a wild-goose chase. We had news +of your father not long before his sad death, and he was certainly in +ill-health." + +She set her lips firmly together, and there was a look in her face which +alone was quite sufficient to deter Mr. Cuthbert from further argument. + +"It may be a wild-goose chase," she said. "It may not. At any rate +nothing will alter my purpose. Justice sleeps sometimes for very many +years, but I have an idea that Mr. Scarlett Trent may yet have to face a +day of settlement." + + * * * * * + +She walked through the crowded streets homewards, her nerves tingling +and her pulses throbbing with excitement. She was conscious of having +somehow ridded herself of a load of uncertainty and anxiety. She was +committed now at any rate to a definite course. There had been moments +of indecision--moments in which she had been inclined to revert to her +first impressions of the man, which, before she had heard Davenant's +story, had been favourable enough. That was all over now. That pitifully +tragic figure--the man who died with a tardy fortune in his hands, an +outcast in a far off country--had stirred in her heart a passionate +sympathy--reason even gave way before it. She declared war against Mr. +Scarlett Trent. + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Ernestine walked from Lincoln's Inn to the office of the Hour, where she +stayed until nearly four. Then, having finished her day's work, she +made her way homewards. Davenant was waiting for her in her rooms. She +greeted him with some surprise. + +"You told me that I might come to tea," he reminded her. "If you're +expecting any one else, or I'm in the way at all, don't mind saying so, +please!" + +She shook her head. + +"I'm certainly not expecting any one," she said. "To tell you the truth +my visiting-list is a very small one; scarcely any one knows where I +live. Sit down, and I will ring for tea." + +He looked at her curiously. "What a colour you have, Ernestine!" he +remarked. "Have you been walking fast?" + +She laughed softly, and took off her hat, straightening the wavy brown +hair, which had escaped bounds a little, in front of the mirror. She +looked at herself long and thoughtfully at the delicately cut but strong +features, the clear, grey eyes and finely arched eyebrows, the curving, +humorous mouth and dainty chin. Davenant regarded her in amazement. + +"Why, Ernestine," he exclaimed, "are you taking stock of your good +looks?" + +"Precisely what I am doing," she answered laughing. "At that moment I +was wondering whether I possessed any." + +"If you will allow me," he said, "to take the place of the mirror, I +think that I could give you any assurances you required." + +She shook her head. + +"You might be more flattering," she said, "but you would be less +faithful." + +He remained standing upon the hearthrug. Ernestine returned to the +mirror. + +"May I know," he asked, "for whose sake is this sudden anxiety about +your appearance?" + +She turned away and sat in a low chair, her hands clasped behind her +head, her eyes fixed upon vacancy. + +"I have been wondering," she said, "whether if I set myself to it as +to a task I could make a man for a moment forget himself--did I say +forget?--I mean betray!" + +"If I were that man," he remarked smiling, "I will answer for it that +you could." + +"You! But then you are only a boy, you have nothing to conceal, and you +are partial to me, aren't you? No, the man whom I want to influence is a +very different sort of person. It is Scarlett Trent." + +He frowned heavily. "A boor," he said. "What have you to do with him? +The less the better I should say." + +"And from my point of view, the more the better," she answered. "I have +come to believe that but for him my father would be alive to-day." + +"I do not understand! If you believe that, surely you do not wish to see +the man--to have him come near you!" + +"I want him punished!" + +He shook his head. "There is no proof. There never could be any proof!" + +"There are many ways," she said softly, "in which a man can be made to +suffer." + +"And you would set yourself to do this?" + +"Why not? Is not anything better than letting him go scot-free? Would +you have me sit still and watch him blossom into a millionaire peer, +a man of society, drinking deep draughts of all the joys of life, with +never a thought for the man he left to rot in an African jungle? Oh, any +way of punishing him is better than that. I have declared war against +Scarlett Trent." + +"How long," he asked, "will it last?" + +"Until he is in my power," she answered slowly. "Until he has fallen +back again to the ruck. Until he has tasted a little of the misery from +which at least he might have saved my father!" + +"I think," he said, "that you are taking a great deal too much for +granted. I do not know Scarlett Trent, and I frankly admit that I am +prejudiced against him and all his class. Yet I think that he deserves +his chance, like any man. Go to him and ask him, face to face, how your +father died, declare yourself, press for all particulars, seek even for +corroboration of his word. Treat him if you will as an enemy, but as an +honourable one!" + +She shook her head. + +"The man," she said, "has all the plausibility of his class. He has +learned it in the money school, where these things become an art. +He believes himself secure--he is even now seeking for me. He is all +prepared with his story. No, my way is best." + +"I do not like your way," he said. "It is not like you, Ernestine." + +"For the sake of those whom one loves," she said, "one will do much that +one hates. When I think that but for this man my father might still have +been alive, might have lived to know how much I loathed those who sent +him into exile--well, I feel then that there is nothing in the world I +would not do to crush him!" + +He rose to his feet--his fresh, rather boyish, face was wrinkled with +care. + +"I shall live to be sorry, Ernestine," he said, "that I ever told you +the truth about your father." + +"If I had discovered it for myself," she said, "and, sooner or later, I +should have discovered it, and had learned that you too had been in the +conspiracy, I should never have spoken to you again as long as I lived." + +"Then I must not regret it," he said, "only I hate the part you are +going to play. I hate to think that I must stand by and watch, and say +nothing." + +"There is no reason," she said, "why you should watch it; why do you not +go away for a time?" + +"I cannot," he answered sadly, "and you know why." + +She was impatient, but she looked at him for a moment with a gleam of +sadness in her eyes. + +"It would be much better for you," she said, "if you would make up your +mind to put that folly behind you." + +"It may be folly, but it is not the sort of folly one forgets." + +"You had better try then, Cecil," she said, "for it is quite hopeless. +You know that. Be a man and leave off dwelling upon the impossible. I do +not wish to marry, and I do not expect to, but if ever I did, it would +not be you!" + +He was silent for a few moments--looking gloomily across at the girl, +loathing the thought that she, his ideal of all those things which +most become a woman, graceful, handsome, perfectly bred, should ever be +brought into contact at all with such a man as this one whose confidence +she was planning to gain. No, he could not go away and leave her! He +must be at hand, must remain her friend. + +"I wonder," he said, "couldn't we have one of our old evenings again? +Listen--" + +"I would rather not," she interrupted softly. "If you will persist in +talking of a forbidden subject you must go away. Be reasonable, Cecil." + +He was silent for a moment. When he spoke again his tone was changed. + +"Very well," he said. "I will try to let things be as you wish--for the +present. Now do you want to hear some news?" + +She nodded. + +"Of course." + +"It's about Dick--seems rather a coincidence too. He was at the Cape, +you know, with a firm of surveyors, and he's been offered a post on the +Gold Coast." + +"The Gold Coast! How odd! Anywhere near--?" + +"The offer came from the Bekwando Company!" + +"Is he going?" + +"Yes." + +She was full of eager interest. "How extraordinary! He might be able to +make some inquiries for me." + +He nodded. + +"What there is to be discovered about Mr. Scarlett Trent, he can find +out! But, Ernestine, I want you to understand this! I have nothing +against the man, and although I dislike him heartily, I think it is +madness to associate him in any way with your father's death." + +"You do not know him. I do!" + +"I have only told you my opinion," he answered, "it is of no +consequence. I will see with your eyes. He is your enemy and he shall be +my enemy. If there is anything shady in his past out there, depend upon +it Dick will hear of it." + +She pushed the wavy hair back from her forehead--her eyes were bright, +and there was a deep flush of colour in her cheeks. But the man was not +to be deceived. He knew that these things were not for him. It was the +accomplice she welcomed and not the man. + +"It is a splendid stroke of fortune," she said. "You will write to Fred +to-day, won't you? Don't prejudice him either way. Write as though your +interest were merely curiosity. It is the truth I want to get at, that +is all. If the man is innocent I wish him no harm--only I believe him +guilty." + +"There was a knock at the door--both turned round. Ernestine's trim +little maidservant was announcing a visitor who followed close behind. + +"Mr. Scarlett Trent." + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +Ernestine was a delightful hostess, she loved situations, and her social +tact was illimitable. In a few minutes Trent was seated in a comfortable +and solid chair with a little round table by his side, drinking tea and +eating buttered scones, and if not altogether at his ease very nearly +so. Opposite him was Davenant, dying to escape yet constrained to be +agreeable, and animated too with a keen, distasteful curiosity to +watch Ernestine's methods. And Ernestine herself chatted all the time, +diffused good fellowship and tea--she made an atmosphere which had a +nameless fascination for the man who had come to middle-age without +knowing what a home meant. Davenant studied him and became thoughtful. +He took note of the massive features, the iron jaw, the eyes as bright +as steel, and his thoughtfulness became anxiety. Ernestine too was +strong, but this man was a rock. What would happen if she carried out +her purpose, fooled, betrayed him, led him perhaps to ruin? Some day her +passion would leap up, she would tell him, they would be face to face, +injured man and taunting woman. Davenant had an ugly vision as he sat +there. He saw the man's eyes catch fire, the muscles of his face twitch, +he saw Ernestine shrink back, white with terror and the man followed +her. + +"Cecil! Aren't you well? you're looking positively ghastly!" + +He pulled himself together--it had been a very realistic little +interlude. + +"Bad headache!" he said, smiling. "By the by, I must go!" + +"If you ever did such a thing as work," she remarked, "I should say that +you had been doing too much. As it is, I suppose you have been sitting +up too late. Goodbye. I am so glad that you were here to meet Mr. Trent. +Mr. Davenant is my cousin, you know," she continued, turning to her +visitor, "and he is almost the only one of my family who has not cast me +off utterly." + +Davenant made his adieux with a heavy heart. He hated the hypocrisy with +which he hoped for Scarlett Trent's better acquaintance and the latter's +bluff acceptance of an invitation to look him up at his club. He walked +out into the street cursing his mad offer to her and the whole business. +But Ernestine was very well satisfied. + +She led Trent to talk about Africa again, and he plunged into the +subject without reserve. He told her stories and experiences with a +certain graphic and picturesque force which stamped him as the possessor +of an imaginative power and command of words for which she would +scarcely have given him credit. She had the unusual gift of making the +best of all those with whom she came in contact. Trent felt that he was +interesting her, and gained confidence in himself. + +All the time she was making a social estimate of him. He was not by any +means impossible. On the contrary there was no reason why he should not +become a success. That he was interested in her was already obvious, but +that had become her intention. The task began to seem almost easy as she +sat and listened to him. + +Then he gave her a start. Quietly and without any warning he changed the +subject into one which was fraught with embarrassment for her. At his +first words the colour faded from her cheeks. + +"I've been pretty lucky since I got back. Things have gone my way a +bit and the only disappointment I've had worth speaking of has been in +connection with a matter right outside money. I've been trying to find +the daughter of that old partner of mine--I told you about her--and I +can't." + +She changed her seat a little. There was no need for her to affect any +interest in what he was saying. She listened to every word intently. + +"Monty," he said reflectingly, "was a good old sort in a way, and I had +an idea, somehow, that his daughter would turn out something like the +man himself, and at heart Monty was all right. I didn't know who she was +or her name--Monty was always precious close, but I had the address of a +firm of lawyers who knew all about her. I called there the other day and +saw an old chap who questioned and cross-questioned me until I wasn't +sure whether I was on my head or my heels, and, after all, he told me +to call again this afternoon for her address. I told him of course that +Monty died a pauper and he'd no share of our concession to will away, +but I'd done so well that I thought I'd like to make over a trifle to +her--in fact I'd put away 10,000 pounds worth of Bekwando shares for +her. I called this afternoon, and do you know, Miss Wendermott, the +young lady declined to have anything to say to me--wouldn't let me know +who she was that I might have gone and talked this over in a friendly +way with her. Didn't want money, didn't want to hear about her father!" + +"You must have been disappointed." + +"I'll admit it," he replied. "I was; I'd come to think pretty well of +Monty although he was a loose fish and I'd a sort of fancy for seeing +his daughter." + +She took up a screen as though to shield the fire from her face. +Would the man's eyes never cease questioning her--could it be that he +suspected? Surely that was impossible! + +"Why have you never tried to find her before?" she asked. + +"That's a natural question enough," he admitted. "Well, first, I only +came across a letter Monty wrote with the address of those lawyers a +few days ago, and, secondly, the Bekwando Mine and Land Company has only +just boomed, and you see that made me feel that I'd like to give a lift +up to any one belonging to poor old Monty I could find. I've a mind to +go on with the thing myself and find out somehow who this young lady +is!" + +"Who were the lawyers?" + +"Cuthbert and Cuthbert." + +"They are most respectable people," she said. "I know Mr. Cuthbert and +their standing is very high. If Mr. Cuthbert told you that the young +lady wished to remain unknown to you, I am quite sure that you may +believe him." + +"That's all right," Trent said, "but here's what puzzles me. The girl +may be small enough and mean enough to decline to have anything to +say to me because her father was a bad lot, and she doesn't want to be +reminded of him, but for that very reason can you imagine her virtually +refusing a large sum of money? I told old Cuthbert all about it. There +was 10,000 pounds worth of shares waiting for her and no need for any +fuss. Can you understand that?" + +"It seems very odd," she said. "Perhaps the girl objects to being given +money. It is a large sum to take as a present from a stranger." + +"If she is that sort of girl," he said decidedly, "she would at least +want to meet and talk with the man who saw the last of her father. No, +there's something else in it, and I think that I ought to find her. +Don't you?" + +She hesitated. + +"I'm afraid I can't advise you," she said; "only if she has taken so +much pains to remain unknown, I am not sure--I think that if I were you +I would assume that she has good reason for it." + +"I can see no good reason," he said, "and there is a mystery behind it +which I fancy would be better cleared up. Some day I will tell you more +about it." + +Evidently Ernestine was weary of the subject, for she suddenly changed +it. She led him on to talk of other things. When at last he glanced at +the clock he was horrified to see how long he had stayed. + +"You'll remember, I hope, Miss Wendermott," he said, "that this is the +first afternoon call I've ever paid. I've no idea how long I ought to +have stayed, but certainly not two hours." + +"The time has passed quickly," she said, smiling upon him, so that his +momentary discomfort passed away. "I have been very interested in the +stories of your past, Mr. Trent, but do you know I am quite as much +interested, more so even, in your future." + +"Tell me what you mean," he asked. + +"You have so much before you, so many possibilities. There is so much +that you may gain, so much that you may miss." + +He looked puzzled. + +"I have a lot of money," he said. "That's all! I haven't any friends +nor any education worth speaking of. I don't see quite where the +possibilities come in." + +She crossed the room and came over close to his side, resting her arm +upon the mantelpiece. She was still wearing her walking-dress, prim and +straight in its folds about her tall, graceful figure, and her hair, +save for the slight waviness about the forehead, was plainly dressed. +There were none of the cheap arts about her to which Trent had become +accustomed in women who sought to attract. Yet, as she stood looking +down at him, a faint smile, half humorous, half satirical, playing about +the corners of her shapely mouth, he felt his heart beat faster than +ever it had done in any African jungle. It was the nervous and +emotional side of the man to which she appealed. He felt unlike himself, +undergoing a new phase of development. There was something stirring +within him which he could not understand. + +"You haven't any friends," she said softly, "nor any education, but you +are a millionaire! That is quite sufficient. You are a veritable Caesar +with undiscovered worlds before you." + +"I wish I knew what you meant," he said, with some hesitation. + +She laughed softly. + +"Don't you understand," she said, "that you are the fashion? Last year +it was Indian Potentates, the year before it was actors, this year it +is millionaires. You have only to announce yourself and you may take +any place you choose in society. You have arrived at the most auspicious +moment. I can assure you that before many months are past you will know +more people than ever you have spoken to in your life before--men whose +names have been household words to you and nothing else will be calling +you 'old chap' and wanting to sell you horses, and women, who last week +would look at you through lorgnettes as though you were a denizen of +some unknown world, will be lavishing upon you their choicest smiles and +whispering in your ear their 'not at home' afternoon. Oh, it's lucky +I'm able to prepare you a little for it, or you would be taken quite by +storm." + +He was unmoved. He looked at her with a grim tightening of the lips. + +"I want to ask you this," he said. "What should I be the better for it +all? What use have I for friends who only gather round me because I am +rich? Shouldn't I be better off to have nothing to do with them, to live +my own life, and make my own pleasures?" + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"These people," she said, "of whom I have been speaking are masters +of the situation. You can't enjoy money alone! You want to race, hunt, +entertain, shoot, join in the revels of country houses! You must be one +of them or you can enjoy nothing." + +Monty's words were ringing back in his ears. After all, pleasures could +be bought--but happiness! + +"And you," he said, "you too think that these things you have mentioned +are the things most to be desired in life?" + +A certain restraint crept into her manner. + +"Yes," she answered simply. + +"I have been told," he said, "that you have given up these things to +live your life differently. That you choose to be a worker. You have +rich relations--you could be rich yourself!" + +She looked him steadily in the face. + +"You are wrong," she said, "I have no money. I have not chosen a +profession willingly--only because I am poor!" + +"Ah!" + +The monosyllable was mysterious to her. But for the wild improbability +of the thing she would have wondered whether indeed he knew her secret. +She brushed the idea away. It was impossible. + +"At least," he said, "you belong to these people." + +"Yes," she answered, "I am one of the poor young women of society." + +"And you would like," he continued, "to be one of the rich ones--to take +your place amongst them on equal terms. That is what you are looking +forward to in life!" + +She laughed gaily. + +"Of course I am! If there was the least little chance of it I should be +delighted. You mustn't think that I'm different from other girls in that +respect because I'm more independent. In this country there's only one +way of enjoying life thoroughly, and that you will find out for yourself +very soon." + +He rose and held out his hand. + +"Thank you very much," he said, "for letting me come. May I--" + +"You may come," she said quietly, "as often as you like." + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +"Mr. Scarlett Trent, the Gold King, left for Africa on Thursday last on +the Dunottar Castle, to pay a brief visit to his wonderful possessions +there before the great Bekwando Mining and Exploration Company is +offered to the public. Mr. Trent is already a millionaire, and should he +succeed in floating the Company on the basis of the Prospectus, he will +be a multi-millionaire, and certainly one of the richest of Englishmen. +During his absence workmen are to be kept going night and day at +his wonderful palace in Park Lane, which he hopes to find ready for +occupation on his return. Mr. Trent's long list of financial successes +are too well known to be given here, but who will grudge wealth to a +man who is capable of spending it in such a lordly fashion? We wish Mr. +Trent a safe voyage and a speedy return." + +The paper slipped from his fingers and he looked thoughtfully out +seaward. It was only one paragraph of many, and the tone of all was the +same. Ernestine's words had come true--he was already a man of note. A +few months had changed his life in the most amazing way--when he looked +back upon it now it was with a sense of unreality--surely all these +things which had happened were part of a chimerical dream. It was barely +possible for him to believe that it was he, Scarlett Trent, who had +developed day by day into what he was at that moment. For the man was +changed in a hundred ways. His grey flannel clothes was cut by the +Saville Row tailor of the moment, his hands and hair, his manner of +speech and carriage were all altered. He recalled the men he had +met, the clubs he had joined, his stud of horses at Newmarket, the +country-houses at which he had visited. His most clear impression of the +whole thing was how easy everything had been made for him. His oddness +of speech, his gaucheries, his ignorances and nervousness had all been +so lightly treated that they had been brushed away almost insensibly. He +had been able to do so little that was wrong--his mistakes were ignored +or admired as originality, and yet in some delicate way the right thing +had been made clear to him. Ernestine had stood by his side, always +laughing at this swift fulfilment of her prophecy, always encouraging +him, always enigmatic. Yet at the thought of her a vague sense of +trouble crept into his heart. He took a worn photograph from his pocket +and looked at it long and searchingly, and when he put it away he +sighed. It made no difference of course, but he would rather have found +her like that, the child with sweet, trustful eyes and a laughing mouth. +Was there no life at all, then, outside this little vortex into which +at her bidding he had plunged? Would she never have been content with +anything else? He looked across the placid, blue sea to where the sun +gleamed like silver on a white sail, and sighed again. He must make +himself what she would have him. There was no life for him without her. + +The captain came up for his morning chat and some of the passengers, who +eyed him with obvious respect, lingered for a moment about his chair on +their promenade. Trent lit a cigar and presently began to stroll up and +down himself. The salt sea-air was a wonderful tonic to him after +the nervous life of the last few months. He found his spirits rapidly +rising. This voyage had been undertaken in obedience to a sudden but +overpowering impulse. It had come to him one night that he must know for +himself how much truth there was in Da Souza's story. He could not live +with the thought that a thunderbolt was ever in the skies, that at any +moment his life might lie wrecked about him. He was going out by one +steamer and back by the next, the impending issue of his great Company +afforded all the excuse that was necessary. If Da Souza's story was +true--well, there were many things which might be done, short of a +complete disclosure. Monty might be satisfied, if plenty of money were +forthcoming, to abandon his partnership and release the situation from +its otherwise endless complications. Trent smoked his cigar placidly +and, taking off his cap bared his head to the sweeping sea-wind, which +seemed laden with life and buoyancy. Suddenly as he swung round by +the companion-way he found himself confronted by a newcomer who came +staggering out from the gangway. There was a moment's recoil and a sharp +exclamation. Trent stood quite still and a heavy frown darkened his +face. + +"Da Souza!" he exclaimed. "How on earth came you on board?" + +Da Souza's face was yellower than ever and he wore an ulster buttoned +up to his chin. Yet there was a flash of malice in his eyes as he +answered-- + +"I came by late tender at Southampton," he said. + +"It cost me a special from London and the agents told me I couldn't do +it, but here I am, you see!" + +"And a poor-looking object you are," Trent said contemptuously. "If +you've life enough in you to talk, be so good as to tell me what the +devil you mean by following me like this!" + +"I came," Da Souza answered, "in both our interests--chiefly in my own!" + +"I can believe that," Trent answered shortly, "now speak up. Tell me +what you want." + +Da Souza groaned and sank down upon a vacant deck-chair. + +"I will sit down," he said, "I am not well! The sea disagrees with me +horribly. Well, well, you want to know why I came here! I can answer +that question by another. What are you doing here? Why are you going to +Africa?" + +"I am going," Trent said, "to see how much truth there was in that story +you told me. I am going to see old Monty if he is alive." + +Da Souza groaned. + +"It is cruel madness," he said, "and you are such an obstinate man! Oh +dear! oh dear!" + +"I prefer," Trent said, "a crisis now, to ruin in the future. Besides, I +have the remnants of a conscience." + +"You will ruin yourself, and you will ruin me," Da Souza moaned. "How am +I to have a quarter share if Monty is to come in for half, and how are +you to repay him all that you would owe on a partnership account? You +couldn't do it, Trent. I've heard of your four-in-hand, and your yacht, +and your racers, and that beautiful house in Park Lane. I tell you that +to part with half your fortune would ruin you, and the Bekwando Company +could never be floated." + +"I don't anticipate parting with half," Trent said coolly. "Monty hasn't +long to live--and he ought not to be hard to make terms with." + +Da Souza beat his hands upon the handles of his deck-chair. + +"But why go near him at all? He thinks that you are dead. He has no idea +that you are in England. Why should he know? Why do you risk ruin like +this?" + +"There are three reasons," Trent answered. "First, he may find his way +to England and upset the applecart; secondly, I've only the shreds of a +conscience, but I can't leave a man whom I'm robbing of a fortune in +a state of semi-slavery, as I daresay he is, and the third reason is +perhaps the strongest of all; but I'm not going to tell it you." + +Da Souza blinked his little eyes and looked up with a cunning smile. + +"Your first reason," he said, "is a poor sort of one. Do you suppose +I don't have him looked after a bit?--no chance of his getting back to +England, I can tell you. As for the second, he's only half-witted, and +if he was better off he wouldn't know it." + +"Even if I gave way to you in this," Trent answered, "the third reason +is strong enough." + +Da Souza's face was gloomy. "I know it's no use trying to move you," he +said, "but you're on a silly, dangerous, wild goose-chase." + +"And what about yourself?" Trent asked. "I imagine you have some other +purpose in taking this voyage than just to argue with me." + +"I am going to see," Da Souza said, "that you do as little mischief as +possible." + +Trent walked the length of the deck and back. "Da Souza," he said, +stopping in front of him, "you're a fool to take this voyage. You know +me well enough to be perfectly assured that nothing you could say would +ever influence me. There's more behind it. You've a game of your own to +play over there. Now listen! If I catch you interfering with me in +any way, we shall meet on more equal terms than when you laughed at my +revolver at Walton Lodge! I never was over-scrupulous in those old days, +Da Souza, you know that, and I have a fancy that when I find myself on +African soil again I may find something of the old man in me yet. So +look out, my friend, I've no mind to 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." + +He walked away and was challenged by the Doctor to a game of +shuffleboard. Da Souza remained in his chair, his eyes blinking as +though with the sun, and his hands gripping nervously the sides of his +chair. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +After six weeks' incessant throbbing the great engines were still, and +the Dunottar Castle lay at anchor a mile or two from the African coast +and off the town of Attra. The heat, which in motion had been hard +enough to bear, was positively stifling now. The sun burned down upon +the glassy sea and the white deck till the varnish on the rails cracked +and blistered, and the sweat streamed like water from the faces of the +labouring seamen. Below at the ship's side half a dozen surf boats were +waiting, manned by Kru boys, who alone seemed perfectly comfortable, and +cheerful as usual. All around were preparations for landing--boxes were +being hauled up from the hold, and people were going about in reach of +small parcels and deck-chairs and missing acquaintances. Trent, in white +linen clothes and puggaree, was leaning over the railing, gazing towards +the town, when Da Souza came up to him-- + +"Last morning, Mr. Trent!" + +Trent glanced round and nodded. + +"Are you disembarking here?" he asked. + +Da Souza admitted the fact. "My brother will meet me," he said. "He is +very afraid of the surf-boats, or he would have come out to the steamer. +You remember him?" + +"Yes, I remember him," Trent answered. "He was not the sort of person +one forgets." + +"He is a very rough diamond," Da Souza said apologetically. "He has +lived here so long that he has become almost half a native." + +"And the other half a thief," Trent muttered. + +Da Souza was not in the least offended. + +"I am afraid," he admitted, "that his morals are not up to the +Threadneedle Street pitch, eh, Mr. Trent? But he has made quite a great +deal of money. Oh, quite a sum I can assure you. He sends me some over +to invest!" + +"Well, if he's carrying on the same old game," Trent remarked, "he ought +to be coining it! By the by, of course he knows exactly where Monty is?" + +"It is what I was about to say," Da Souza assented, with a vigorous nod +of the head. "Now, my dear Mr. Trent, I know that you will have your +way. It is no use my trying to dissuade you, so listen. You shall waste +no time in searching for Monty. My brother will tell you exactly where +he is." + +Trent hesitated. He would have preferred to have nothing at all to do +with Da Souza, and the very thought of Oom Sam made him shudder. On the +other hand, time was valuable to him and he might waste weeks looking +for the man whom Oom Sam could tell him at once where to find. On the +whole, it was better to accept Da Souza's offer. + +"Very well, Da Souza," he said, "I have no time to spare in this country +and the sooner I get back to England the better for all of us. If your +brother knows where Monty is, so much the better for both of us. We will +land together and meet him." + +Already the disembarking had commenced. Da Souza and Trent took their +places side by side on the broad, flat-bottomed boat, and soon they were +off shorewards and the familiar song of the Kru boys as they bent over +their oars greeted their ears. The excitement of the last few strokes +was barely over before they sprang upon the beach and were surrounded by +a little crowd, on the outskirts of whom was Oom Sam. Trent was seized +upon by an Englishman who was representing the Bekwando Land and Mining +Investment Company and, before he could regain Da Souza, a few rapid +sentences had passed between the latter and his brother in Portuguese. +Oom Sam advanced to Trent hat in hand-- + +"Welcome back to Attra, senor?" + +Trent nodded curtly. + +"Place isn't much changed," he remarked. + +"It is very slowly here," Oom Sam said, "that progress is made! The +climate is too horrible. It makes dead sheep of men." + +"You seem to hang on pretty well," Trent remarked carelessly. "Been up +country lately?" + +"I was trading with the King of Bekwando a month ago," Oom Sam answered. + +"Palm-oil and mahogany for vile rum I suppose," Trent said. + +The man extended his hands and shrugged his shoulders. The old gesture. + +"They will have it," he said. "Shall we go to the hotel, Senor Trent, +and rest?" + +Trent nodded, and the three men scrambled up the beach, across an open +space, and gained the shelter of a broad balcony, shielded by a striped +awning which surrounded the plain white stone hotel. A Kru boy welcomed +them with beaming face and fetched them drinks upon a Brummagem tray. +Trent turned to the Englishman who had followed them up. + +"To-morrow," he said, "I shall see you about the contracts. My first +business is a private matter with these gentlemen. Will you come up here +and breakfast with me?" + +The Englishman, a surveyor from a London office, assented with +enthusiasm. + +"I can't offer to put you up," he said gloomily. "Living out here's +beastly. See you in the morning, then." + +He strolled away, fanning himself. Trent lit a long cigar. + +"I understand," he said turning to Oom Sam, "that old Monty is alive +still. If so, it's little short of a miracle, for I left him with +scarcely a gasp in his body, and I was nearly done myself. + +"It was," Oom Sam said, "veree wonderful. The natives who were chasing +you, they found him and then the Englishman whom you met in Bekwando on +his way inland, he rescued him. You see that little white house with a +flagstaff yonder?" + +He pointed to a little one-storey building about a mile away along the +coast. Trent nodded. + +"That is," Oom Sam said, "a station of the Basle Mission and old Monty +is there. You can go and see him any time you like, but he will not know +you." + +"Is he as far gone as that?" Trent asked slowly. + +"His mind," Oom Sam said, "is gone. One little flickering spark of life +goes on. A day! a week! who can tell how long?" + +"Has he a doctor?" Trent asked. + +"The missionary, he is a medical man," Oom Sam explained. "Yet he is +long past the art of medicine." + +It seemed to Trent, turning at that moment to relight his cigar, that +a look of subtle intelligence was flashed from one to the other of the +brothers. He paused with the match in his fingers, puzzled, suspicious, +anxious. So there was some scheme hatched already between these precious +pair! It was time indeed that he had come. + +"There was something else I wanted to ask," he said a moment or two +later. "What about the man Francis. Has he been heard of lately?" + +Oom Sam shook his head. + +"Ten months ago," he answered, "a trader from Lulabulu reported having +passed him on his way to the interior. He spoke of visiting Sugbaroo, +another country beyond. If he ventured there, he will surely never +return." + +Trent set down his glass without a word, and called to some Kru boys in +the square who carried litters. + +"I am going," he said, "to find Monty." + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +An old man, with his face turned to the sea, was making a weary attempt +at digging upon a small potato patch. The blaze of the tropical sun had +become lost an hour or so before in a strange, grey mist, rising not +from the sea, but from the swamps which lay here and there--brilliant, +verdant patches of poison and pestilence. With the mist came a moist, +sticky heat, the air was fetid. Trent wiped the perspiration from his +forehead and breathed hard. This was an evil moment for him. + +Monty turned round at the sound of his approaching footsteps. The +two men stood face to face. Trent looked eagerly for some sign of +recognition--none came. + +"Don't you know me?" Trent said huskily. "I'm Scarlett Trent--we went +up to Bekwando together, you know. I thought you were dead, Monty, or I +wouldn't have left you." + +"Eh! What!" + +Monty mumbled for a moment or two and was silent. A look of dull +disappointment struggled with the vacuity of his face. Trent noticed +that his hands were shaking pitifully and his eyes were bloodshot. + +"Try and think, Monty," he went on, drawing a step nearer to him. "Don't +you remember what a beastly time we had up in the bush--how they kept us +day after day in that villainous hut because it was a fetish week, and +how after we had got the concessions those confounded niggers followed +us! They meant our lives, Monty, and I don't know how you escaped! Come! +make an effort and pull yourself together. We're rich men now, both of +us. You must come back to England and help me spend a bit." + +Monty had recovered a little his power of speech. He leaned over his +spade and smiled benignly at his visitor. + +"There was a Trentham in the Guards," he said slowly, "the Honourable +George Trentham, you know, one of poor Abercrombie's sons, but I thought +he was dead. You must dine with me one night at the Travellers'! I've +given up eating myself, but I'm always thirsty." + +He looked anxiously away towards the town and began to mumble. Trent was +in despair. Presently he began again. + +"I used to belong to the Guards,--always dined there till Jacques left. +Afterwards the cooking was beastly, and--I can't quite remember where +I went then. You see--I think I must be getting old. I don't remember +things. Between you and me," he sidled a little closer to Trent, "I +think I must have got into a bit of a scrape of some sort--I feel as +though there was a blank somewhere...." + +Again he became unintelligible. Trent was silent for several minutes. +He could not understand that strained, anxious look which crept into +Monty's face every time he faced the town. Then he made his last effort. + +"Monty, do you remember this?" + +Zealously guarded, yet a little worn at the edges and faded, he drew the +picture from its case and held it before the old man's blinking eyes. +There was a moment of suspense, then a sharp, breathless cry which ended +in a wail. + +"Take it away," Monty moaned. "I lost it long ago. I don't want to see +it! I don't want to think." + +"I have come," Trent said, with an unaccustomed gentleness in his tone, +"to make you think. I want you to remember that that is a picture of +your daughter. You are rich now and there is no reason why you should +not come back to her. Don't you understand, Monty?" + +It was a grey, white face, shrivelled and pinched, weak eyes without +depth, a vapid smile in which there was no meaning. Trent, carried away +for a moment by an impulse of pity, felt only disappointment at the +hopelessness of his task. He would have been honestly glad to have +taken the Monty whom he had known back to England, but not this man! +For already that brief flash of awakened life seemed to have died away. +Monty's head was wagging feebly and he was casting continually little, +furtive glances towards the town. + +"Please go away," he said. "I don't know you and you give me a pain in +my head. Don't you know what it is to feel a buzz, buzz, buzzing inside? +I can't remember things. It's no use trying." + +"Monty, why do you look so often that way?" Trent said quietly. "Is some +one coming out from the town to see you?" + +Monty threw a quick glance at him and Trent sighed. For the glance was +full of cunning, the low cunning of the lunatic criminal. + +"No one, no one," he said hastily. "Who should come to see me? I'm only +poor Monty. Poor old Monty's got no friends. Go away and let me dig." + +Trent walked a few paces apart, and passed out of the garden to a low, +shelving bank and looked downward where a sea of glass rippled on to the +broad, firm sands. What a picture of desolation! The grey, hot mist, +the whitewashed cabin, the long, ugly potato patch, the weird, pathetic +figure of that old man from whose brain the light of life had surely +passed for ever. And yet Trent was puzzled. Monty's furtive glance +inland, his half-frightened, half-cunning denial of any anticipated +visit suggested that there was some one else who was interested in his +existence, and some one too with whom he shared a secret. Trent lit a +cigar and sat down upon the sandy turf. Monty resumed his digging. Trent +watched him through the leaves of a stunted tree, underneath which he +had thrown himself. + +For an hour or more nothing happened. Trent smoked, and Monty, who had +apparently forgotten all about his visitor, plodded away amongst the +potato furrows, with every now and then a long, searching look towards +the town. Then there came a black speck stealing across the broad +rice-field and up the steep hill, a speck which in time took to itself +the semblance of a man, a Kru boy, naked as he was born save for a +ragged loin-cloth, and clutching something in his hand. He was invisible +to Trent until he was close at hand; it was Monty whose changed attitude +and deportment indicated the approach of something interesting. He had +relinquished his digging and, after a long, stealthy glance towards the +house, had advanced to the extreme boundary of the potato patch. His +behaviour here for the first time seemed to denote the hopeless lunatic. +He swung his long arms backward and forwards, cracking his fingers, and +talked unintelligibly to himself, hoarse, guttural murmurings without +sense or import. Trent changed his place and for the first time saw the +Kru boy. His face darkened and an angry exclamation broke from his lips. +It was something like this which he had been expecting. + +The Kru boy drew nearer and nearer. Finally he stood upright on +the rank, coarse grass and grinned at Monty, whose lean hands were +outstretched towards him. He fumbled for a moment in his loin-cloth. +Then he drew out a long bottle and handed it up. Trent stepped out as +Monty's nervous fingers were fumbling with the cork. He made a grab at +the boy who glided off like an eel. Instantly he whipped out a revolver +and covered him. + +"Come here," he cried. + +The boy shook his head. "No understand." + +"Who sent you here with that filthy stuff?" he asked sternly. "You'd +best answer me." + +The Kru boy, shrinking away from the dark muzzle of that motionless +revolver, was spellbound with fear. He shook his head. + +"No understand." + +There was a flash of light, a puff of smoke, a loud report. The Kru boy +fell forward upon his face howling with fear. Monty ran off towards the +house mumbling to himself. + +"The next time," Trent said coolly, "I shall fire at you instead of at +the tree. Remember I have lived out here and I know all about you and +your kind. You can understand me very well if you choose, and you've +just got to. Who sends you here with that vile stuff?" + +"Massa, I tell! Massa Oom Sam, he send me!" + +"And what is the stuff?" + +"Hamburgh gin, massa! very good liquor! Please, massa, point him pistol +the other way." + +Trent took up the flask, smelt its contents and threw it away with a +little exclamation of disgust. + +"How often have you been coming here on this errand?" he asked sternly. + +"Most every day, massa--when him Mr. Price away." + +Trent nodded. + +"Very good," he said. "Now listen to me. If ever I catch you round here +again or anywhere else on such an errand, I'll shoot you like a dog. Now +be off." + +The boy bounded away with a broad grin of relief. Trent walked up to the +house and asked for the missionary's wife. She came to him soon, in what +was called the parlour. A frail, anaemic-looking woman with tired eyes +and weary expression. + +"I'm sorry to trouble you, Mrs. Price," Trent said, plunging at once +into his subject, "but I want to speak to you about this old man, Monty. +You've had him some time now, haven't you?" + +"About four years," she answered. "Captain Francis left him with +my husband; I believe he found him in one of the villages inland, a +prisoner." + +Trent nodded. + +"He left you a little money with him, I believe." + +The woman smiled faintly. + +"It was very little," she said, "but such as it is, we have never +touched it. He eats scarcely anything and we consider that the little +work he has done has about paid us for keeping him." + +"Did you know," Trent asked bluntly, "that he had been a drunkard?" + +"Captain Francis hinted as much," the woman answered. "That was one +reason why he wanted to leave him with us. He knew that we did not allow +anything in the house." + +"It was a pity," Trent said, "that you could not have watched him a +little more out of it. Why, his brain is sodden with drink now!" + +The woman was obviously honest in her amazement. "How can that be?" she +exclaimed. "He has absolutely no money and he never goes off our land." + +"He has no need," Trent answered bitterly. "There are men in Attra who +want him dead, and they have been doing their best to hurry him off. I +caught a Kru boy bringing him gin this afternoon. Evidently it has been +a regular thing." + +"I am very sorry indeed to hear this," the woman said, "and I am sure +my husband will be too. He will feel that, in a certain measure, he has +betrayed Captain Francis's trust. At the same time we neither of us had +any idea that anything of this sort was to be feared, or we would have +kept watch." + +"You cannot be blamed," Trent said. "I am satisfied that you knew +nothing about it. Now I am going to let you into a secret. Monty is a +rich man if he had his rights, and I want to help him to them. I shall +take him back to England with me, but I can't leave for a week or so. If +you can keep him till then and have some one to watch him day and night, +I'll give your husband a hundred pounds for your work here, and build +you a church. It's all right! Don't look as though I were mad. I'm a +very rich man, that's all, and I shan't miss the money, but I want +to feel that Monty is safe till I can start back to England. Will you +undertake this?" + +"Yes," the woman answered promptly, "we will. We'll do our honest best." + +Trent laid a bank-note upon the table. + +"Just to show I'm in earnest," he remarked, rising. "I shall be +up-country for about a month. Look after the old chap well and you'll +never regret it." + +Trent went thoughtfully back to the town. He had committed himself now +to a definite course of action. He had made up his mind to take Monty +back with him to England and face the consequences. + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +On the summit of a little knoll, with a pipe between his teeth and +his back against a palm-tree, Trent was lounging away an hour of the +breathless night. Usually a sound sleeper, the wakefulness, which had +pursued him from the instant his head had touched his travelling pillow +an hour or so back, was not only an uncommon occurrence, but one which +seemed proof against any effort on his part to overcome it. So he had +risen and stolen away from the little camp where his companions lay +wrapped in heavy slumber. They had closed their eyes in a dense +and tropical darkness--so thick indeed that they had lit a fire, +notwithstanding the stifling heat, to remove that vague feeling of +oppression which chaos so complete seemed to bring with it. Its embers +burnt now with a faint and sickly glare in the full flood of yellow +moonlight which had fallen upon the country. From this point of vantage +Trent could trace backwards their day's march for many miles, the white +posts left by the surveyor even were visible, and in the background rose +the mountains of Bekwando. It had been a hard week's work for Trent. He +had found chaos, discontent, despair. The English agent of the Bekwando +Land Company was on the point of cancelling his contract, the surveyors +were spending valuable money without making any real attempt to start +upon their undoubtedly difficult task. Everywhere the feeling seemed to +be that the prosecution of his schemes was an impossibility. The road +was altogether in the clouds. Trent was flatly told that the labour +they required was absolutely unprocurable. Fortunately Trent knew the +country, and he was a man of resource. From the moment when he had +appeared upon the spot, things had begun to right themselves. He had +found Oom Sam established as a sort of task-master and contractor, and +had promptly dismissed him, with the result that the supply of Kru boys +was instantly doubled. He had found other sources of labour and +started them at once on clearing work, scornfully indifferent to the +often-expressed doubts of the English surveyor as to possibility of +making the road at all. He had chosen overseers with that swift and +intuitive insight into character which in his case amounted almost to +genius. With a half-sheet of notepaper and a pencil, he had mapped out a +road which had made one, at least, of the two surveyors thoughtful, and +had largely increased his respect for the English capitalist. Now he was +on his way back from a tour almost to Bekwando itself by the route of +the proposed road. Already the work of preparation had begun. Hundreds +of natives left in their track were sawing down palm-trees, cutting away +the bush, digging and making ready everywhere for that straight, wide +thoroughfare which was to lead from Bekwando village to the sea-coast. +Cables as to his progress had already been sent back to London. Apart +from any other result, Trent knew that he had saved the Syndicate a +fortune by his journey here. + +The light of the moon grew stronger--the country lay stretched out +before him like a map. With folded arms and a freshly-lit pipe Trent +leaned with his back against the tree and fixed eyes. At first he saw +nothing but that road, broad and white, stretching to the horizon and +thronged with oxen-drawn wagons. Then the fancy suddenly left him and +a girl's face seemed to be laughing into his--a face which was ever +changing, gay and brilliant one moment, calm and seductively beautiful +the next. He smoked his pipe furiously, perplexed and uneasy. One moment +the face was Ernestine's, the next it was Monty's little girl laughing +up at him from the worn and yellow tin-type. The promise of the one--had +it been fulfilled in the woman? At least he knew that here was the one +great weakness of his life. The curious flood of sentiment, which +had led him to gamble for the child's picture, had merged with equal +suddenness into passion at the coming of her later presentment. High +above all his plans for the accumulation of power and wealth, he set +before him now a desire which had become the moving impulse of his +life--a desire primitive but overmastering--the desire of a strong man +for the woman he loves. In London he had scarcely dared admit so much +even to himself. Here, in this vast solitude, he was more master of +himself--dreams which seemed to him the most beautiful and the most +daring which he had ever conceived, filled his brain and stirred his +senses till the blood in his veins seemed flowing to a new and wonderful +music. Those were wonderful moments for him. + +His pipe was nearly out, and a cooler breeze was stealing over the +plain. After all, perhaps an hour or so's sleep would be possible now. +He stretched himself and yawned, cast one more glance across the moonlit +plain, and then stood suddenly still, stiffened into an attitude of +breathless interest. Yonder, between two lines of shrubs, were moving +bodies--men, footsore and weary, crawling along with slow, painful +movements; one at least of them was a European, and even at that +distance Trent could tell that they were in grievous straits. He felt +for his revolver, and, finding that it was in his belt, descended the +hill quickly towards them. + +With every step which he took he could distinguish them more plainly. +There were five Kru boys, a native of a tribe which he did not +recognise, and a European who walked with reeling footsteps, and who, it +was easy to see, was on the point of exhaustion. Soon they saw him, and +a feeble shout greeted his approach. Trent was within hailing distance +before he recognised the European. Then, with a little exclamation of +surprise, he saw that it was Captain Francis. + +They met face to face in a moment, but Francis never recognised him. His +eyes were bloodshot, a coarse beard disguised his face, and his clothes +hung about him in rags. Evidently he was in a terrible plight. When he +spoke his voice sounded shrill and cracked. + +"We are starving men," he said; "can you help us?" + +"Of course we can," Trent answered quickly. "This way. We've plenty of +stores." + +The little party stumbled eagerly after him. In a few moments they were +at the camp. Trent roused his companions, packages were hastily undone +and a meal prepared. Scarcely a word was said or a question asked. One +or two of the Kru boys seemed on the verge of insanity--Francis himself +was hysterical and faint. Trent boiled a kettle and made some beef-tea +himself. The first mouthful Francis was unable to swallow. His throat +had swollen and his eyes were hideously bloodshot. Trent, who had seen +men before in dire straits, fed him from a spoon and forced brandy +between his lips. Certainly, at the time, he never stopped to consider +that he was helping back to life the man who in all the world was most +likely to do him ill. + +"Better?" he asked presently. + +"Much. What luck to find you. What are you after--gold?" + +Trent shook his head. + +"Not at present. We're planning out the new road from Attra to +Bekwando." + +Francis looked up with surprise. + +"Never heard of it," he said; "but there's trouble ahead for you. They +are dancing the war-dance at Bekwando, and the King has been shut up for +three days with the priest and never opened his mouth. We were on our +way from the interior, and relied upon them for food and drink. They've +always been friendly, but this time we barely escaped with our lives." + +Trent's face grew serious. This was bad news for him, and he was +thankful that they had not carried out their first plan and commenced +their prospecting at Bekwando village. + +"We have a charter," he said, "and, if necessary, we must fight. I'm +glad to be prepared though." + +"A charter!" Francis pulled himself together and looked curiously at the +man who was still bending over him. + +"Great Heavens!" he exclaimed, "why, you are Scarlett Trent, the man +whom I met with poor Villiers in Bekwando years ago." + +Trent nodded. + +"We waited for you," he said, "to witness our concession. I thought that +you would remember." + +"I thought," Francis said slowly, "that there was something familiar +about you.... I remember it all now. You were gambling with poor old +Monty for his daughter's picture against a bottle of brandy." + +Trent winced a little. + +"You have an excellent memory," he said drily. + +Francis raised himself a little, and a fiercer note crept into his tone. + +"It is coming back to me," he said. "I remember more about you now, +Scarlett Trent. You are the man who left his partner to die in a jungle, +that you might rob him of his share in the concession. Oh yes, you see +my memory is coming back! I have an account against you, my man." + +"It's a lie!" said Trent passionately. "When I left him, I honestly +believed him to be a dead man." + + +"How many people will believe that?" Francis scoffed. "I shall take +Monty with me to England. I have finished with this country for +awhile--and then--and then--" + +He was exhausted, and sank back speechless. Trent sat and watched him, +smoking in thoughtful silence. They two were a little apart from the +others, and Francis was fainting. A hand upon his throat--a drop from +that phial in the medicine-chest--and his faint would carry him into +eternity. And still Trent sat and smoked. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + +It was Trent himself who kept watch through that last long hour of +moonlit darkness till the wan morning broke. With its faint, grey +streaks came the savages of Bekwando, crawling up in a semicircle +through the long, rough grass, then suddenly, at a signal, bounding +upright with spears poised in their hands--an ugly sight in the dim dawn +for men chilled with the moist, damp air and only half-awake. But Trent +had not been caught napping. His stealthy call to arms had aroused them +in time at least to crawl behind some shelter and grip their rifles. The +war-cry of the savages was met with a death-like quiet--there were no +signs of confusion nor terror. A Kru boy, who called out with fright, +was felled to the ground by Trent with a blow which would have staggered +an ox. With their rifles in hand, and every man stretched flat upon +the ground, Trent's little party lay waiting. Barely a hundred yards +separated them, yet there was no sign of life from the camp. The long +line of savages advanced a few steps more, their spears poised above +their heads, their half-naked forms showing more distinctly as they +peered forward through the grey gloom, savage and ferocious. The white +men were surely sleeping still. They were as near now as they could get. +There was a signal and then a wild chorus of yells. They threw aside all +disguise and darted forward, the still morning air hideous with their +cry of battle. Then, with an awful suddenness, their cry became the cry +of death, for out from the bushes belched a yellow line of fire as the +rifles of Trent and his men rang out their welcome. A dozen at least of +the men of Bekwando looked never again upon the faces of their wives, +the rest hesitated. Trent, in whom was the love of fighting, made then +his first mistake. He called for a sally, and rushed out, revolver in +hand, upon the broken line. Half the blacks ran away like rabbits; the +remainder, greatly outnumbering Trent and his party, stood firm. In a +moment it was hand-to-hand fighting, and Trent was cursing already the +bravado which had brought him out to the open. + +For a while it was a doubtful combat. Then, with a shout of triumph, +the chief, a swarthy, thick-set man of herculean strength, recognised +Francis and sprang upon him. The blow which he aimed would most surely +have killed him, but that Trent, with the butt-end of a rifle, broke +its force a little. Then, turning round, he blew out the man's brains as +Francis sank backwards. A dismal yell from his followers was the chief's +requiem; then they turned and fled, followed by a storm of bullets as +Trent's men found time to reload. More than one leaped into the air and +fell forward upon their faces. The fight was over, and, when they came +to look round, Francis was the only man who had suffered. + +Morning had dawned even whilst they had been fighting. Little wreaths +of mist were curling upwards, and the sun shone down with a cloudless, +golden light, every moment more clear as the vapours melted away. +Francis was lying upon his face groaning heavily; the Kru boys, to whom +he was well known, were gathered in a little circle around him. Trent +brushed them on one side and made a brief examination. Then he had +him carried carefully into one of the tents while he went for his +medicine-chest. + +Preparations for a start were made, but Trent was thoughtful. For the +second time within a few hours this man, in whose power it was to ruin +him, lay at his mercy. That he had saved his life went for nothing. In +the heat of battle there had been no time for thought or calculation. +Trent had simply obeyed the generous instinct of a brave man whose +blood was warm with the joy of fighting. Now it was different. Trent was +seldom sentimental, but from the first he had had an uneasy presentiment +concerning this man who lay now within his power and so near to death. +A mutual antipathy seemed to have been born between them from the first +moment when they had met in the village of Bekwando. As though it were +yesterday, he remembered that leave-taking and Francis's threatening +words. Trent had always felt that the man was his enemy--certainly the +power to do him incalculable harm, if not to altogether ruin him, was +his now. And he would not hesitate about it. Trent knew that, although +broadly speaking he was innocent of any desire to harm or desert Monty, +no power on earth would ever convince Francis of that. Appearances were, +and always must be, overwhelmingly against him. Without interference +from any one he had already formulated plans for quietly putting Monty +in his rightful position, and making over to him his share in the +Bekwando Syndicate. But to arrange this without catastrophe would need +skill and tact; interference from any outside source would be fatal, +and Francis meant to interfere--nothing would stop him. Trent walked +backwards and forwards with knitted brows, glancing every now and then +at the unconscious man. Francis would certainly interfere if he were +allowed to recover! + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + +A fortnight afterwards Trent rode into Attra, pale, gaunt, and +hollow-eyed. The whole history of those days would never be known by +another man! Upon Trent they had left their mark for ever. Every hour of +his time in this country he reckoned of great value--yet he had devoted +fourteen days to saving the life of John Francis. Such days too--and +such nights! They had carried him sometimes in a dead stupor, sometimes +a raving madman, along a wild bush-track across rivers and swamps +into the town of Garba, where years ago a Congo trader, who had made a +fortune, had built a little white-washed hospital! He was safe now, but +surely never a man before had walked so near the "Valley of the Shadow +of Death." A single moment's vigilance relaxed, a blanket displaced, +a dose of brandy forgotten, and Trent might have walked this life a +multi-millionaire, a peer, a little god amongst his fellows, freed for +ever from all anxiety. But Francis was tended as never a man was tended +before. Trent himself had done his share of the carrying, ever keeping +his eyes fixed upon the death-lit face of their burden, every ready to +fight off the progress of the fever and ague, as the twitching lips or +shivering limbs gave warning of a change. For fourteen days he had not +slept; until they had reached Garba his clothes had never been changed +since they had started upon their perilous journey. As he rode into +Attra he reeled a little in his saddle, and he walked into the office of +the Agent more like a ghost than a man. + +Two men, Cathcart and his assistant, who was only a boy, were lounging +in low chairs. As he entered they looked up, exchanging quick, startled +glances. Then Cathcart gave vent to a little exclamation. + +"Great Heavens, Trent, what have you been doing?" Trent sank into a +chair. "Get me some wine," he said. "I am all right but over-tired." + +Cathcart poured champagne into a tumbler. Trent emptied it at a gulp +and asked for biscuits. The man's recuperative powers were wonderful. +Already the deathly whiteness was passing from his cheeks. + +"Where is Da Souza?" he asked. + +"Gone back to England," Cathcart answered, looking out of the open +casement shaded from the sun by the sloping roof. "His steamer started +yesterday." + +Trent was puzzled. He scarcely understood this move. + +"Did he give any reason?" + +Cathcart smoked for a moment in silence. After all though a disclosure +would be unpleasant, it was inevitable and as well now as any time. "I +think," Cathcart said, "that he has gone to try and sell his shares in +the Bekwando concessions." + +"Gone--to--sell--his--shares!" Trent repeated slowly. "You mean to say +that he has gone straight from here to put a hundred thousand Bekwando +shares upon the market?" + +Cathcart nodded. + +He said so! + +"And why? Did he tell you that?" + +"He has come to the conclusion," Cathcart said, "that the scheme is +impracticable altogether and the concessions worthless. He is going to +get what he can for his shares while he has the chance." + +Trent drained his tumbler and lit a cigar. "So much for Da Souza," he +said. "And now I should like to know, Mr. Stanley Cathcart, what the +devil you and your assistant are doing shacking here in the cool of the +day when you are the servants of the Bekwando Company and there's work +to be done of the utmost importance? The whole place seems to be asleep. +Where's your labour? There's not a soul at work. We planned exactly +when to start the road. What the mischief do you mean by wasting a +fortnight?" + +Cathcart coughed and was obviously ill-at-ease, but he answered with +some show of dignity. + +"I have come to the conclusion, Mr. Trent, that the making of the road +is impracticable and useless. There is insufficient labour and poor +tools, no satisfactory method of draining the swampy country, and +further, I don't think any one would work with the constant fear of an +attack from those savages." + +"So that's your opinion, is it?" Trent said grimly. + +"That is my opinion," Cathcart answered. "I have embodied it in a report +which I despatched to the secretary of the Company by Mr. Da Souza." + +Trent rose and opened the door which swung into the little room. + +"Out you go!" he said fiercely. + +Cathcart looked at him in blank astonishment. + +"What do you mean?" he exclaimed. "These are my quarters!" + +"They're nothing of the sort," Trent answered. "They are the +headquarters in this country of the Bekwando Company, with which you +have nothing to do! Out you go!" + +"Don't talk rubbish!" Cathcart said angrily. "I'm the authorised and +properly appointed surveyor here!" + +"You're a liar!" Trent answered, "you've no connection at all with the +Company! you're dismissed, sir, for incompetence and cowardice, and +if you're not off the premises in three minutes it'll be the worse for +you!" + +"You--you--haven't the power to do this," Cathcart stuttered. + +Trent laughed. + +"We'll see about that," he said. "I never had much faith in you, sir, +and I guess you only got the job by a rig. But out you go now, sharp. If +there's anything owing you, you can claim it in London. + +"There are all my clothes--" Cathcart began. + +Trent laid his hands upon his shoulders and threw him softly outside. + +"I'll send your clothes to the hotel," he said. "Take my advice, young +man, and keep out of my sight till you can find a steamer to take you +where they'll pay you for doing nothing. You're the sort of man who +irritates me and it's a nasty climate for getting angry in!" + +Cathcart picked himself up. "Well, I should like to know who's going to +make your road," he said spitefully. + +"I'll make it myself," Trent roared. "Don't you think a little thing +like some stupid laws of science will stand in my way, or the way of +a man who knows his own mind. I tell you I'll level that road from the +tree there which we marked as the starting-point to the very centre of +Bekwando." + +He slammed the door and re-entered the room. The boy was there, sitting +upon the office stool hard at work with a pair of compasses. + +"What the devil are you doing there?" Trent asked. "Out you go with your +master!" + +The boy looked up. He had a fair, smooth face, but lips like Trent's +own. + +"I'm just thinking about that first bend by Kurru corner, sir," he said, +"I'm not sure about the level." + +Trent's face relaxed. He held out his hand. + +"My boy," he said, "I'll make your fortune as sure as my name is +Scarlett Trent!" + +"We'll make that road anyway," the boy answered, with a smile. + + * * * * * + +After a rest Trent climbed the hill to the Basle Mission House. There +was no sign of Monty on the potato patch, and the woman who opened the +door started when she saw him. + +"How is he?" Trent asked quickly. + +The woman looked at him in wonder. + +"Why, he's gone, sir--gone with the Jewish gentleman who said that you +had sent him." + +"Where to?" Trent asked quickly. + +"Why, to England in the Ophir!" the woman answered. + +Then Trent began to feel that, after all, the struggle of his life was +only beginning. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + +It was then perhaps that Trent fought the hardest battle of his life. +The start was made with only a dozen Kru boys, Trent himself, stripped +to the shirt, labouring amongst them spade in hand. In a week the +fishing boats were deserted, every one was working on the road. The +labour was immense, but the wages were magnificent. Real progress was +made and the boy's calculations were faultless. Trent used the cable +freely. + +"Have dismissed Cathcart for incompetence--road started--progress +magnificent," he wired one week, and shortly afterwards a message +came back--"Cathcart cables resigned--scheme impossible--shares +dropping--wire reply." + +Trent clenched his fist, and his language made the boy, who had never +heard him violent, look up in surprise. Then he put on his coat and +walked out to the cable station. + +"Cathcart lies. I dismissed him for cowardice and incompetence. The +road is being made and I pledge my word that it will be finished in six +months. Let our friends sell no shares." + +Then Trent went back and, hard as he had worked before, he surpassed it +all now. Far and wide he sent ever with the same inquiry--for labour and +stores. He spent money like water, but he spent from a bottomless purse. +Day after day Kru boys, natives and Europeans down on their luck, came +creeping in. Far away across the rolling plain the straight belt of +flint-laid road-bed stretched to the horizon, one gang in advance +cutting turf, another beating in the small stones. The boy grew thin and +bronzed, Trent and he toiled as though their lives hung upon the work. +So they went on till the foremost gang came close to the forests, beyond +which lay the village of Bekwando. + +Then began the period of the greatest anxiety, for Trent and the boy and +a handful of the others knew what would have sent half of the natives +flying from their work if a whisper had got abroad. A few soldiers were +drafted down from the Fort, arms were given out to all those who could +be trusted to use them and by night men watched by the great red fires +which flared along the path of their labours. Trent and the boy took it +by turns to watch, their revolvers loaded by their side, and their eyes +ever turned towards that dark line of forest whence came nothing but the +singing of night birds and the calling of wild animals. Yet Trent would +have no caution relaxed, the more they progressed, the more vigilant the +watch they kept. At last came signs of the men of Bekwando. In the small +hours of the morning a burning spear came hurtling through the darkness +and fell with a hiss and a quiver in the ground, only a few feet from +where Trent and the boy lay. Trent stamped on it hastily and gave no +alarm. But the boy stole round with a whispered warning to those who +could be trusted to fight. + +Yet no attack came on that night or the next; on the third Trent and the +boy sat talking and the latter frankly owned that he was nervous. + +"It's not that I'm afraid," he said, smiling. "You know it isn't that! +But all day long I've had the same feeling--we're being watched! I'm +perfectly certain that the beggars are skulking round the borders of the +forest there. Before morning we shall hear from them." + +"If they mean to fight," Trent said, "the sooner they come out the +better. I'd send a messenger to the King only I'm afraid they'd kill +him. Oom Sam won't come! I've sent for him twice." + +The boy was looking backwards and forwards along the long line of +disembowelled earth. + +"Trent," he said suddenly, "you're a wonderful man. Honestly, this road +is a marvellous feat for untrained labour and with such rotten odds +and ends of machinery. I don't know what experience you'd had of +road-making." + +"None," Trent interjected. + +"Then it's wonderful!" + +Trent smiled upon the boy with such a smile as few people had ever seen +upon his lips. + +"There's a bit of credit to you, Davenant," he said. "I'd never have +been able to figure out the levelling alone. Whether I go down or not, +this shall be a good step up on the ladder for you." + +The boy laughed. + +"I've enjoyed it more than anything else in my life," he said. "Fancy +the difference between this and life in a London office. It's been +magnificent! I never dreamed what life was like before." + +Trent looked thoughtfully into the red embers. "You had the mail +to-day," the boy continued. "How were things in London?" + +"Not so bad," Trent answered. "Cathcart has been doing all the harm +he can, but it hasn't made a lot of difference. My cables have been +published and our letters will be in print by now, and the photographs +you took of the work. That was a splendid idea!" + +"And the shares?" + +"Down a bit--not much. Da Souza seems to be selling out carefully a +few at a time, and my brokers are buying most of them. Pound shares are +nineteen shillings to-day. They'll be between three and four pounds, a +week after I get back." + +"And when shall you go?" the boy asked. + +"Directly I get a man out here I can trust and things are fixed with his +Majesty the King of Bekwando! We'll both go then, and you shall spend a +week or two with me in London." + +The boy laughed. + +"What a time we'll have!" he cried. "Say, do you know your way round?" + +Trent shook his head. + +"I'm afraid not," he said. "You'll have to be my guide." + +"Right you are," was the cheerful answer. "I'll take you to Jimmy's, and +the Empire, and down the river, and to a match at Lord's, and to Henley +if we're in time, and I'll take you to see my aunt! You'll like her." + +Trent nodded. + +"I'll expect to," he said. "Is she anything like you?" + +"Much cleverer," the boy said, "but we've been great chums all our life. +She's the cleverest woman ever knew, earns lots of money writing for +newspapers. + +"Here, you've dropped your cigar, Trent." + +Trent groped for it on the ground with shaking fingers. + +"Writes for newspapers?" he repeated slowly. "I wonder--her name isn't +Davenant, is it?" + +The boy shook his head. + +"No, she's my mother's cousin really--only I call her Aunty, we +always got on so. She isn't really much older than me, her name is +Wendermott--Ernestine Wendermott. Ernestine's a pretty name, don't you +think?" + +Trent rose to his feet, muttering something about a sound in the forest. +He stood with his back to the boy looking steadily at the dark line of +outlying scrub, seeing in reality nothing, yet keenly anxious that the +red light of the dancing flames should not fall upon his face. The boy +leaned on his elbow and looked in the same direction. He was puzzled by +a fugitive something which he had seen in Trent's face. + +Afterwards Trent liked sometimes to think that it was the sound of her +name which had saved them all. For, whereas his gaze had been idle at +first, it became suddenly fixed and keen. He stooped down and whispered +something to the boy. The word was passed along the line of sleeping men +and one by one they dropped back into the deep-cut trench. The red fire +danced and crackled--only a few yards outside the flame-lit space came +the dark forms of men creeping through the rough grass like snakes. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +The attack was a fiasco, the fighting was all over in ten minutes. A +hundred years ago the men of Bekwando, who went naked and knew no drink +more subtle than palm wine had one virtue--bravery. But civilisation +pressing upon their frontiers had brought Oom Sam greedy for ivory and +gold, and Oom Sam had bought rum and strong waters. The nerve of the +savage had gone, and his muscle had become a flaccid thing. When they +had risen from the long grass with a horrid yell and had rushed in upon +the hated intruders with couched spears only to be met by a blinding +fire of Lee-Metford and revolver bullets their bravery vanished like +breath from the face of a looking-glass. They hesitated, and a rain of +bullets wrought terrible havoc amongst their ranks. On every side the +fighting-men of Bekwando went down like ninepins--about half a dozen +only sprang forward for a hand-to-hand fight, the remainder, with +shrieks of despair, fled back to the shelter of the forest, and not one +of them again ever showed a bold front to the white man. Trent, for a +moment or two, was busy, for a burly savage, who had marked him out by +the light of the gleaming flames, had sprung upon him spear in hand, and +behind him came others. The first one dodged Trent's bullet and was upon +him, when the boy shot him through the cheek and he went rolling over +into the fire, with a death-cry which rang through the camp high above +the din of fighting, another behind him Trent shot himself, but the +third was upon him before he could draw his revolver and the two rolled +over struggling fiercely, at too close quarters for weapons, yet with +the thirst for blood fiercely kindled in both of them. For a moment +Trent had the worst of it--a blow fell upon his forehead (the scar of +which he never lost) and the wooden club was brandished in the air for +a second and more deadly stroke. But at that moment Trent leaped up, +dashed his unloaded revolver full in the man's face and, while he +staggered with the shock, a soldier from behind shot him through the +heart. Trent saw him go staggering backwards and then himself sank down, +giddy with the blow he had received. Afterwards he knew that he must +have fainted, for when he opened his eyes the sun was up and the men +were strolling about looking at the dead savages who lay thick in the +grass. Trent sat up and called for water. + +"Any one hurt?" he asked the boy who brought him some. The boy grinned, +but shook his head. + +"Plenty savages killed," he said, "no white man or Kru boy." + +"Where's Mr. Davenant," Trent asked suddenly. + +The boy looked round and shook his head. + +"No seen Mr. Dav'nant," he said. "Him fight well though! Him not hurt!" + +Trent stood up with a sickening fear at his heart. He knew very well +that if the boy was about and unhurt he would have been at his side. Up +and down the camp he strode in vain. At last one of the Kru boys thought +he remembered seeing a great savage bounding away with some one on his +back. He had thought that it was one of their wounded--it might have +been the boy. Trent, with a sickening sense of horror, realised the +truth. The boy had been taken prisoner. + +Even then he preserved his self-control to a marvellous degree. First of +all he gave directions for the day's work--then he called for volunteers +to accompany him to the village. There was no great enthusiasm. To fight +in trenches against a foe who had no cover nor any firearms was rather +a different thing from bearding them in their own lair. Nevertheless, +about twenty men came forward, including a guide, and Trent was +satisfied. + +They started directly after breakfast and for five hours fought their +way through dense undergrowth and shrubs with never a sign of a path, +though here and there were footsteps and broken boughs. By noon some of +the party were exhausted and lagged behind, an hour later a long line of +exhausted stragglers were following Trent and the native guide. Yet to +all their petitions for a rest Trent was adamant. Every minute's delay +might lessen the chance of saving the boy, even now they might have +begun their horrible tortures. The thought inspired him with fresh +vigour. He plunged on with long, reckless strides which soon placed a +widening gap between him and the rest of the party. + +By degrees he began to recollect his whereabouts. The way grew less +difficult--occasionally there were signs of a path. Every moment the +soft, damp heat grew more intense and clammy. Every time he touched +his forehead he found it dripping. But of these things he recked very +little, for every step now brought him nearer to the end of his journey. +Faintly, through the midday silence he could hear the clanging of copper +instruments and the weird mourning cry of the defeated natives. A few +more steps and he was almost within sight of them. He slackened his +pace and approached more stealthily until only a little screen of bushes +separated him from the village and, peering through them, he saw a sight +which made his blood run cold within him. + +They had the boy! He was there, in that fantastic circle bound hand and +foot, but so far as he could see, at present unhurt. His face was turned +to Trent, white and a little scared, but his lips were close-set and he +uttered no sound. By his side stood a man with a native knife dancing +around and singing--all through the place were sounds of wailing and +lamentation, and in front of his hut the King was lying, with an empty +bottle by his side, drunk and motionless. Trent's anger grew fiercer +as he watched. Was this a people to stand in his way, to claim the +protection and sympathy of foreign governments against their own +bond, that they might keep their land for misuse and their bodies for +debauchery? He looked backwards and listened. As yet there was no sign +of any of his followers and there was no telling how long these antics +were to continue. Trent looked to his revolver and set his teeth. There +must be no risk of evil happening to the boy. He walked boldly out into +the little space and called to them in a loud voice. + +There was a wild chorus of fear. The women fled to the huts--the men ran +like rats to shelter. But the executioner of Bekwando, who was a fetish +man and holy, stood his ground and pointed his knife at Trent. Two +others, seeing him firm, also remained. The moment was critical. + +"Cut those bonds!" Trent ordered, pointing to the boy. + +The fetish man waved his hands and drew a step nearer to Trent, his +knife outstretched. The other two backed him up. Already a spear was +couched. + +Trent's revolver flashed out in the sunlight. + +"Cut that cord!" he ordered again. + +The fetish man poised his knife. Trent hesitated no longer, but shot him +deliberately through the heart. He jumped into the air and fell forward +upon his face with a death-cry which seemed to find an echo from every +hut and from behind every tree of Bekwando. It was like the knell of +their last hope, for had he not told them that he was fetish, that his +body was proof against those wicked fires and that if the white men +came, he himself would slay them! And now he was dead! The last barrier +of their superstitious hope was broken down. Even the drunken King sat +up and made strange noises. + +Trent stooped down and, picking up the knife, cut the bonds which had +bound the boy. He staggered up to his feet with a weak, little laugh. + +"I knew you'd find me," he said. "Did I look awfully frightened?" + +Trent patted him on the shoulder. "If I hadn't been in time," he said, +"I'd have shot every man here and burned their huts over their +heads. Pick up the knife, old chap, quick. I think those fellows mean +mischief." + +The two warriors who had stood by the priest were approaching, but when +they came within a few yards of Trent's revolver they dropped on their +knees. It was their token of submission. Trent nodded, and a moment +afterwards the reason for their non-resistance was made evident. The +remainder of the expedition came filing into the little enclosure. + +Trent lit a cigar and sat down on a block of wood to consider what +further was best to be done. In the meantime the natives were bringing +yams to the white men with timid gestures. After a brief rest Trent +called them to follow him. He walked across to the dwelling of the +fetish man and tore down the curtain of dried grass which hung before +the opening. Even then it was so dark inside that they had to light a +torch before they could see the walls, and the stench was horrible. + +A little chorus of murmurs escaped the lips of the Europeans as the +interior became revealed to them. Opposite the door was a life-size +and hideous effigy of a grinning god, made of wood and painted in many +colours. By its side were other more horrible images and a row of human +skulls hung from the roof. The hand of a white man, blackened with age, +was stuck to the wall by a spear-head, the stench and filth of the whole +place were pestilential. Yet outside a number of women and several of +the men were on their knees hoping still against hope for aid from +their ancient gods. There was a cry of horror when Trent unceremoniously +kicked over the nearest idol--a yell of panic when the boy, with a gleam +of mischief in his eyes, threw out amongst them a worm-eaten, hideous +effigy and with a hearty kick stove in its hollow side. It lay there +bald and ugly in the streaming sunshine, a block of misshapen wood +ill-painted in flaring daubs, the thing which they had worshipped in +gloom and secret, they and a generation before them--all the mystery of +its shrouded existence, the terrible fetish words of the dead priest, +the reverence which an all-powerful and inherited superstition had kept +alive within them, came into their minds as they stood there trembling, +and then fled away to be out of the reach of the empty, staring +eyes--out of reach of the vengeance which must surely fall from the +skies upon these white savages. So they watched, the women beating their +bosoms and uttering strange cries, the men stolid but scared. Trent and +the boy came out coughing, and half-stupefied with the rank odour, and a +little murmur went up from them. It was a device of the gods--a sort of +madness with which they were afflicted. But soon their murmurs turned +again into lamentation when they saw what was to come. Men were running +backwards and forwards, piling up dried wood and branches against the +idol-house, a single spark and the thing was done. A tongue of flame +leaped up, a thick column of smoke stole straight up in the breathless +air. Amazed, the people stood and saw the home of dreadful mystery, +whence came the sentence of life and death, the voice of the King-maker, +the omens of war and fortune, enveloped in flames, already a ruined and +shapeless mass. Trent stood and watched it, smoking fiercely and felt +himself a civiliser. But the boy seemed to feel some of the pathos +of the moment and he looked curiously at the little crowd of wailing +natives. + +"And the people?" he asked. + +"They are going to help me make my road," Trent said firmly. "I am going +to teach them to work!" + + + +CHAPTER XXX + + +MY DEAR AUNT ERNIE,--At last I have a chance of sending you a +letter--and, this time at any rate, you won't have to complain about +my sending you no news. I'll promise you that, before I begin, and you +needn't get scared either, because it's all good. I've been awfully +lucky, and all because that fellow Cathcart turned out such a funk and +a bounder. It's the oddest thing in the world too, that old Cis should +have written me to pick up all the news I could about Scarlett Trent and +send it to you. Why, he's within a few feet of me at this moment, and +I've been seeing him continually ever since I came here. But there, I'll +try and begin at the beginning. + +"You know Cathcart got the post of Consulting Surveyor and Engineer to +the Bekwando Syndicate, and he was head man at our London place. Well, +they sent me from Capetown to be junior to him, and a jolly good move +for me too. I never did see anything in Cathcart! He's a lazy sort of +chap, hates work, and I guess he only got the job because his uncle had +got a lot of shares in the business. It seems he never wanted to come, +hates any place except London, which accounts for a good deal. + +"All the time when we were waiting, he wasn't a bit keen and kept on +rotting about the good times he might have been having in London, and +what a fearful country we were stranded in, till he almost gave me the +blues, and if there hadn't been some jolly good shooting and a few nice +chaps up at the Fort, I should have been miserable. As it was, I left +him to himself a good deal, and he didn't like that either. I think +Attra was a jolly place, and the landing in surf boats was no end of +fun. Cathcart got beastly wet, and you should have seen what a stew he +was in because he'd put on a beautiful white suit and it got spoilt. +Well, things weren't very lively at Attra at first, I'm bound to admit. +No one seemed to know much about the Bekwando Land Company, and the +country that way was very rough. However, we got sent out at last, and +Cathcart, he simply scoffed at the whole thing from the first. There +was no proper labour, not half enough machinery, and none of the right +sort--and the gradients and country between Bekwando and the sea were +awful. Cathcart made a few reports and we did nothing but kick our heels +about until HE came. You'll see I've written that in big letters, and +I tell you if ever a man deserved to have his name written in capitals +Scarlett Trent does, and the oddest part of it is he knows you, and he +was awfully decent to me all the time. + +"Well, out he went prospecting, before he'd been in the country +twenty-four hours, and he came back quite cheerful. Then he spoke to +Cathcart about starting work, and Cathcart was a perfect beast. He as +good as told him that he'd come out under false pretences, that the +whole affair was a swindle and that the road could not be made. Trent +didn't hesitate, I can tell you. There were no arguments or promises +with him. He chucked Cathcart on the spot, turned him out of the place, +and swore he'd make the road himself. I asked if I might stop, and I +think he was glad, anyhow we've been ever such pals ever since, and I +never expect to have such a time again as long as I live! But do you +know, Auntie, we've about made that road. When I see what we've done, +sometimes I can't believe it. I only wish some of the bigwigs who've +never been out of an office could see it. I know I'll hate to come away. + +"You'd never believe the time we had--leaving out the fighting, which I +am coming to by and by. We were beastly short of all sorts of machinery +and our labour was awful. We had scarcely any at first, but Trent found +'em somehow, Kru boys and native Zulus and broken-down Europeans--any +one who could hold a pick. More came every day, and we simply cut our +way through the country. I think I was pretty useful, for you see I was +the only chap there who knew even a bit about engineering or practical +surveying, and I'd sit up all night lots of times working the thing out. +We had a missionary came over the first Sunday, and wanted to preach, +but Trent stopped him. 'We've got to work here,' he said, 'and Sunday +or no Sunday I can't let my men stop to listen to you in the cool of the +day. If you want to preach, come and take a pick now, and preach when +they're resting,' and he did and worked well too, and afterwards when we +had to knock off, he preached, and Trent took the chair and made 'em all +listen. Well, when we got a bit inland we had the natives to deal with, +and if you ask me I believe that's one reason Cathcart hated the whole +thing so. He's a beastly coward I think, and he told me once he'd never +let off a revolver in his life. Well, they tried to surprise us one +night, but Trent was up himself watching, and I tell you we did give 'em +beans. Great, ugly-looking, black chaps they were. Aunt Ernie, I shall +never forget how I felt when I saw them come creeping through the long, +rough grass with their beastly spears all poised ready to throw. And now +for my own special adventure. Won't you shiver when you read this! I +was taken prisoner by one of those chaps, carried off to their beastly +village and very nearly murdered by a chap who seemed to be a cross +between an executioner and a high-priest, and who kept dancing round me, +singing a lot of rot and pointing a knife at me. You see, I was right +on the outside of the fighting and I got a knock on the head with the +butt-end of a spear, and was a bit silly for a moment, and a great chap, +who'd seen me near Trent and guessed I was somebody, picked me up as +though I'd been a baby and carried me off. Of course I kicked up no +end of a row as soon as I came to, but what with the firing and the +screeching no one heard me, and Trent said it was half an hour before +he missed me and an hour before they started in pursuit. Anyhow, there +I was, about morning-time when you were thinking of having your cup of +tea, trussed up like a fowl in the middle of the village, and all the +natives, beastly creatures, promenading round me and making faces and +bawling out things--oh, it was beastly I can tell you! Then just as they +seemed to have made up their mind to kill me, up strode Scarlett Trent +alone, if you please, and he walked up to the whole lot of 'em as bold +as brass. He'd got a long way ahead of the rest and thought they meant +mischief, so he wouldn't wait for the others but faced a hundred of them +with a revolver in his hand, and I can tell you things were lively +then. I'd never be able to describe the next few minutes--one man Trent +knocked down with his fist, and you could hear his skull crack, then he +shot the chap who had been threatening me, and cut my bonds, and then +they tried to resist us, and I thought it was all over. They were +horribly afraid of Trent though, and while they were closing round us +the others came up and the natives chucked it at once. They used to be +a very brave race, but since they were able to get rum for their timber +and ivory, they're a lazy and drunken lot. Well, I must tell you what +Trent did then. He went to the priest's house where the gods were +kept--such a beastly hole--and he burned the place before the eyes of +all the natives. I believe they thought every moment that we should be +struck dead, and they stood round in a ring, making an awful row, but +they never dared interfere. He burnt the place to the ground, and then +what do you think he did? From the King downward he made every Jack one +of them come and work on his road. You'll never believe it, but it's +perfectly true. They looked upon him as their conqueror, and they came +like lambs when he ordered it. They think they're slaves you know, and +don't understand their pay, but they get it every week and same as all +the other labourers--and oh, Aunt Ernie, you should see the King work +with a pickaxe! He is fat and so clumsy and so furiously angry, but he's +too scared of Trent to do anything but obey orders, and there he works +hour after hour, groaning, and the perspiration rolls off him as though +he were in a Turkish bath. I could go on telling you odd things that +happen here for hours, but I must finish soon as the chap is starting +with the mail. I am enjoying it. It is something like life I can tell +you, and aren't I lucky? Trent made me take Cathcart's place. I am +getting 800 pounds a year, and only fancy it, he says he'll see that the +directors make me a special grant. Everything looks very different here +now, and I do hope the Company will be a success. There's whole heaps +of mining machinery landed and waiting for the road to be finished to +go up, and people seem to be streaming into the place. I wonder what +Cathcart will say when he knows that the road is as good as done, and +that I've got his job! + +"Chap called for mail. Goodbye. + +"Ever your affectionate + +"FRED. + +"Trent is a brick." + +Ernestine read the letter slowly, line by line, word by word. To tell +the truth it was absorbingly interesting to her. Already there had +come rumours of the daring and blunt, resistless force with which +this new-made millionaire had confronted a gigantic task. His terse +communications had found their way into the Press, and in them and in +the boy's letter she seemed to discover something Caesaric. That night +it was more than usually difficult for her to settle down to her own +work. She read her nephew's letter more than once and continually +she found her thoughts slipping away--traveling across the ocean to +a tropical strip of country, where a heterogeneous crowd of men were +toiling and digging under a blazing sun. And, continually too, she +seemed to see a man's face looking steadily over the sea to her, as he +stood upright for a moment and rested from his toil. She was very fond +of the boy--but the face was not his! + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + + +A special train from Southampton had just steamed into Waterloo with the +passengers from the Royal Mail steamer Ophir. Little groups of sunburnt +men were greeting old friends upon the platform, surrounded by piles of +luggage, canvas trunks and steamer chairs. The demand for hansoms was +brisk, cab after cab heavily loaded was rolling out of the yard. There +were grizzled men and men of fair complexion, men in white helmets and +puggarees, and men in silk hats. All sorts were represented there, from +the successful diamond digger who was spasmodically embracing a lady in +black jet of distinctly Jewish proclivities, to a sporting lord who +had been killing lions. For a few minutes the platforms were given over +altogether to a sort of pleasurable confusion, a vivid scene, full +of colour and human interest. Then the people thinned away, and, very +nearly last of all, a wizened-looking, grey-headed man, carrying a black +bag and a parcel, left the platform with hesitating footsteps and turned +towards the bridge. He was followed almost immediately by Hiram Da +Souza, who, curiously enough, seemed to have been on the platform when +the train came in and to have been much interested in this shabby, +lonely old man, who carried himself like a waif stranded in an unknown +land. Da Souza was gorgeous in frock coat and silk hat, a carnation +in his buttonhole, a diamond in his black satin tie, yet he was not +altogether happy. This little man hobbling along in front represented +fate to him. On the platform at Waterloo he had heard him timidly ask +a bystander the way to the offices of the Bekwando Land and Gold +Exploration Company, Limited. If ever he got there, what would be the +price of Bekwando shares on the morrow? + +On the bridge Da Souza saw him accost a policeman, and brushing close +by, heard him ask the same question. The man shook his head, but pointed +eastwards. + +"I can't say exactly, sir, but somewhere in the City, for certain," he +answered. "I should make for the Bank of England, a penny 'bus along +that way will take you--and ask again there." + +The old man nodded his thanks and stepped along Da Souza felt that his +time had come. He accosted him with an urbane smile. + +"Excuse me," he said, "but I think I heard you ask for the offices of +the Bekwando Land Company." + +The old man looked up eagerly. "If you can direct me there, sir," he +said, "I shall be greatly obliged." + +"I can do so," Da Souza said, falling into step, "and will with +pleasure. I am going that way myself. I hope," he continued in a tone of +kindly concern, "that you are not a shareholder in the Company." + +The old man dropped his bag with a clatter upon the pavement, and his +lips moved for a moment without any speech coming from them. Da Souza +picked up the bag and devoutly hoped that none of his City friends were +in the way. + +"I don't exactly know about being a shareholder," the old man said +nervously, "but I've certainly something to do with it. I am, or should +have been, joint vendor. The Company is wealthy, is it not?" + +Da Souza changed the bag into his other hand and thrust his arm through +his companion's. + +"You haven't seen the papers lately, have you?" + +"No! I've just landed--to-day--from Africa!" + +"Then I'm sorry to say there's some bad news for you," Da Souza said. +"The Bekwando Land and Gold Company has gone into liquidation--smashed +up altogether. They say that all the directors and the vendor will be +arrested. It seems to have been a gigantic swindle." + +Monty had become a dead weight upon his arm. They were in the Strand +now, and he pushed open the swing-door of a public-house, and made +his way into the private bar. When Monty opened his eyes he was on a +cushioned seat, and before him was a tumbler of brandy half empty. He +stared round him wildly. His lips were moist and the old craving was hot +upon him. What did it mean? After all he had broken his vow, then! Had +he not sworn to touch nothing until he had found his little girl and his +fortune? yet the fire of spirits was in his veins and the craving was +tearing him to pieces. Then he remembered! There was no fortune, no +little girl! His dreams were all shattered, the last effort of his life +had been in vain. He caught hold of the tumbler with fingers that shook +as though an ague were upon him, lifted it to his lips and drank. Then +there came the old blankness, and he saw nothing but what seemed to +him the face of a satyr--dark and evil--mocking him through the shadows +which had surely fallen now for ever. Da Souza lifted him up and +conveyed him carefully to a four-wheel cab. + + * * * * * + +An hour afterwards Da Souza, with a grin of content upon his unshapely +mouth, exchanged his frock coat for a gaudy smoking-jacket, and, with a +freshly-lit cigar in his mouth, took up the letters which had arrived by +the evening post. Seeing amongst them one with an African stamp he tore +it open hastily, and read:-- + +"MY DEAR HIRAM,--You was in luck now or never, if you really want +to stop that half--witted creature from doing mischief in London. I +sometimes think, my brother, that you would do better to give me even +more of your confidence. You are a very clever man, but you do keep +yourself so secret. If I too were not clever, how would I know to send +you this news, how would I know that it will make you glad? But there, +you will go your way. I know it! + +"Now for the news! Monty, as I cabled (I send the bill) has gone +secretly to London. Since Scarlett Trent found our Hausa friend and +the rum flask, there have been no means of getting liquor to him, so I +suppose he has very near regained his senses, anyhow he shipped off +very cunning, not even Missionary Walsh knowing, but he made a very big +mistake, the news of which I send to you knowing it will be good. +Hiram, he stole the money to pay for his passage from the missionary's +cash-box! All one day he stood under a tree looking out to sea, and a +steamer from Capetown called, and when he heard the whistle and saw the +surf boats he seemed to wake up. He walked up and down restlessly for a +long time, muttering to himself. Mrs. Walsh came out to him and he was +still staring at the steamer. She told him to come in out of the sun, +which was very hot, but he shook his head. 'She's calling me,' he kept +on saying, 'calling me!' She heard him in the room where the money was +and then saw no more of him. But others saw him running to the shore, +and he paid to be taken out to the steamer. They wouldn't take him on +at first, because he hadn't secured a passage, but he laid down and +wouldn't move. So, as he had the money, they took him, and when I heard +I cabled to you. But what harm can he do, for you are his master? He is +a thief and you know it. Surely you can do with him what you will. + +"Trent was here yesterday and heard for the first time of his flight. +How he took it I cannot tell you, for I was not the one to tell him, but +this I know for a fact. He cabled to Capetown offering 100 pounds if the +Star Line steamer leaving to-morrow would call for him here. Hiram, he +is a great man, this Trent. I hate him, for he has spoilt much trade for +me, and he treats me as though I were the dirt under his feet, but never +a man before who has set foot upon the Coast could have done what he has +done. Without soldiers he has beaten the Bekwando natives, and made them +even work for him. He has stirred the whole place here into a state of +fever! A thousand men are working upon his road and sinking shafts upon +the Bekwando hills. Gold is already coming down, nuggets of it, and he +is opening a depot to buy all the mahogany and ivory in the country. He +spends money like water, he never rests, what he says must be done is +done! The authorities are afraid of him, but day by day they become more +civil! The Agent here called him once an adventurer, and threatened him +with arrest for his fighting with the Bekwandos. Now they go to him cap +in hand, for they know that he will be a great power in this country. +And Hiram, my brother, you have not given me your trust though I speak +to you so openly, but here is the advice of a brother, for blood is +blood, and I would have you make monies. Don't you put yourself against +Trent. Be on his side, for his is the winning side. I don't know what +you got in your head about that poor scarecrow Monty, but I tell you, +Hiram, Trent is the man to back right through. He has the knack of +success, and he is a genius. My! he's a great man, and he's a king out +here. You be on his side, Hiram, and you're all right. + +"Now goodbye, but send me the money for the cable when you write, and +remember--Monty is a thief and Trent is the man to back, which reminds +me that Trent repaid to Missionary Walsh all the money which Monty took, +which it seems was left with Walsh by him for Monty's keep. But Monty +does not know that, so you have the string to make him dance. + +"Which comes from your brother + +"SAMUEL. + +"P.S.--Do not forget the small account for disbursements." + + +Da Souza folded up the letter, and a look of peace shone in his face. +Presently he climbed the stairs to a little back-room and noiselessly +unlocked the door. Monty, with pale face and bloodshot eyes, was walking +up and down, mumbling to himself. He addressed Da Souza eagerly. + +"I think I will go away now," he said. "I am very much obliged to you +for looking after me." + +Da Souza gazed at him with well-affected gravity. "One moment first," he +said, "didn't I understand you that you had just come from Africa?" + +Monty nodded. + +"The Gold Coast?" + +Monty nodded again, but with less confidence. + +"By any chance--were you called Monty there?" + +Monty turned ghastly pale. Surely his last sin had not found him out. He +was silent, but there was no need for speech. Da Souza motioned him to +sit down. + +"I am very sorry," he said, "of course it's true. The police have been +here." + +"The police!" Monty moaned. + +Da Souza nodded. Benevolence was so rare a part for him to play, that he +rather enjoyed it. + +"Don't be scared," he said. "Yes, your description is out, and you are +wanted for stealing a few pounds from a man named Walsh. Never mind. I +won't give you up. You shall lie snug here for a few days!" + +Monty fell on his knees. "You won't let any one know that I am here!" he +pleaded. + +"Not I," Da Souza answered fervently. + +Monty rose to his feet, his face full of dumb misery. + +"Now," he muttered, "I shall never see her--never--never--never!" + +There was a bottle half full of spirits upon the table and a tumbler +as yet unused. A gleam flashed in his eyes. He filled the tumbler +and raised it to his lips. Da Souza watched him curiously with the +benevolent smile still upon his face. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + + +"You are very smart, Ernestine," he said, looking her admiringly. + +"One must be smart at Ascot," she answered, "or stay away." + +"I've just heard some news," he continued. + +"Yes?" + +"Who do you think is here?" + +She glanced at him sideways under her lace parasol. "Every one I should +think." + +"Including," he said, "Mr. Scarlett Trent!" She grew a shade paler, and +leaned for a moment against the rail of the paddock in which they were +lounging. + +"I thought," she said, "that the Mazetta Castle was not due till +to-day." + +"She touched at Plymouth in the night, and he had a special train up. He +has some horses running, you know." + +"I suppose," she remarked, "that he is more of a celebrity than ever +now!" + +"Much more," he answered. "If he chooses he will be the lion of the +season! By the by, you had nothing of interest from Fred?" + +She shook her head impatiently. + +"Nothing but praises! According to Fred, he's a hero!" + +"I hate him," Davenant said sulkily. + +"And so," she answered softly, "do I! Do you see him coming, Cecil?" + +"In good company too," the young man laughed bitterly. + +A little group of men, before whom every one fell back respectfully, +were strolling through the paddock towards the horses. Amongst them was +Royalty, and amongst them also was Scarlett Trent. But when he saw +the girl in the white foulard smile at him from the paling he forgot +etiquette and everything else. He walked straight across to her with +that keen, bright light in his eyes which Fred had described so well in +his letter. + +"I am very fortunate," he said, taking the delicately gloved hand into +his fingers, "to find you so soon. I have only been in England a few +hours." + +She answered him slowly, subjecting him the while to a somewhat close +examination. His face was more sunburnt than ever she had seen a man's, +but there was a wonderful force and strength in his features, which +seemed to have become refined instead of coarsened by the privations +through which he had passed. His hand, as she had felt, was as hard as +iron, and it was not without reluctance that she felt compelled to +take note of his correct attire and easy bearing. After all he must be +possessed of a wonderful measure of adaptability. + +"You have become famous," she said. "Do you know that you are going to +be made a lion?" + +"I suppose the papers have been talking a lot of rot," he answered +bluntly. "I've had a fairly rough time, and I'm glad to tell you this, +Miss Wendermott--I don't believe I'd ever have succeeded but for your +nephew Fred. He's the pluckiest boy I ever knew." + +"I am very pleased to hear it," she answered. "He's a dear boy!" + +"He's a brick," Trent answered. "We've been in some queer scrapes +together--I've lots of messages for you! By the by, are you alone?" + +"For the moment," she answered; "Mr. Davenant left me as you came up. +I'm with my cousin, Lady Tresham. She's on the lawn somewhere." + +He looked down the paddock and back to her. + +"Walk with me a little way," he said, "and I will show you Iris before +she starts." + +"You!" she exclaimed. + +He pointed to the card. It was surely an accident that she had not +noticed it before. Mr. Trent's Iris was amongst the entries for the Gold +Cup. + +"Why, Iris is the favourite!" + +He nodded. + +"So they tell me! I've been rather lucky haven't I, for a beginner? I +found a good trainer, and I had second call on Cannon, who's riding +him. If you care to back him for a trifle, I think you'll be all right, +although the odds are nothing to speak of." + +She was walking by his side now towards the quieter end of the paddock. + +"I hear you have been to Torquay," he said, looking at her critically, +"it seems to have agreed with you. You are looking well!" + +She returned his glance with slightly uplifted eyebrows, intending to +convey by that and her silence a rebuke to his boldness. He was blandly +unconscious, however, of her intent, being occupied just then in +returning the greetings of passers-by. She bit her lip and looked +straight ahead. + +"After all," he said, "unless you are very keen on seeing Iris, I think +we'd better give it up. There are too many people around her already." + +"Just as you like," she answered, "only it seems a shame that you +shouldn't look over your own horse before the race if you want to. Would +you like to try alone?" + +"Certainly not," he answered. "I shall see plenty of her later. Are you +fond of horses?" + +"Very." + +"Go to many race-meetings?" + +"Whenever I get the chance!--I always come here." + +"It is a great sight," he said thoughtfully, looking around him. "Are +you here just for the pleasure of it, or are you going to write about +it?" + +She laughed. + +"I'm going to write about some of the dresses," she said. "I'm afraid no +one would read my racing notes." + +"I hope you'll mention your own," he said coolly. "It's quite the +prettiest here." + +She scarcely knew whether to be amused or offended. + +"You are a very downright person, Mr. Trent," she said. + +"You don't expect me to have acquired manners yet, do you?" he answered +drily. + +"You have acquired a great many things," she said, "with surprising +facility. Why not manners?" + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"No doubt they will come, but I shall want a lot of polishing. I +wonder--" + +"Well?" + +"Whether any one will ever think it worth while to undertake the task." + +She raised her eyes and looked him full in the face. She had made up her +mind exactly what to express--and she failed altogether to do it. There +was a fire and a strength in the clear, grey eyes fixed so earnestly +upon hers which disconcerted her altogether. She was desperately angry +with herself and desperately uneasy. + +"You have the power," she said with slight coldness, "to buy most +things. By the by, I was thinking only just now, how sad it was that +your partner did not live. He shared the work with you, didn't he? It +seems such hard lines that he could not have shared the reward!" + +He showed no sign of emotion such as she had expected, and for which she +had been narrowly watching him. Only he grew at once more serious, and +he led her a little further still from the crush of people. It was the +luncheon interval, and though the next race was the most important of +the day, the stream of promenaders had thinned off a little. + +"It is strange," he said, "that you should have spoken to me of my +partner. I have been thinking about him a good deal lately." + +"In what way?" + +"Well, first of all, I am not sure that our agreement was altogether +a fair one," he said. "He had a daughter and I am very anxious to find +her! I feel that she is entitled to a certain number of shares in the +Company, and I want her to accept them." + +"Have you tried to find her?" she asked. + +He looked steadily at her for a moment, but her parasol had dropped a +little upon his side and he could not see her face. + +"Yes, I have tried," he said slowly, "and I have suffered a great +disappointment. She knows quite well that I am searching for her, and +she prefers to remain undiscovered." + +"That sounds strange," she remarked, with her eyes fixed upon the +distant Surrey hills. "Do you know her reason?" + +"I am afraid," he said deliberately, "that there can be only one. It's a +miserable thing to believe of any woman, and I'd be glad--" + +He hesitated. She kept her eyes turned away from him, but her manner +denoted impatience. + +"Over on this side," he continued, "it seems that Monty was a gentleman +in his day, and his people were--well, of your order! There was an Earl +I believe in the family, and no doubt they are highly respectable. He +went wrong once, and of course they never gave him another chance. It +isn't their way--that sort of people! I'll admit he was pretty low down +when I came across him, but I reckon that was the fault of those who +sent him adrift--and after all there was good in him even then. I am +going to tell you something now, Miss Wendermott, which I've often +wanted to--that is, if you're interested enough to care to hear it!" + +All the time she was asking herself how much he knew. She motioned him +to proceed. + +"Monty had few things left in the world worth possessing, but there was +one which he had never parted with, which he carried with him always. +It was the picture of his little girl, as she had been when his trouble +happened." + +He stooped a little as though to see over the white rails, but she was +too adroit. Her face remained hidden from him by that little cloud of +white lace. + +"It is an odd thing about that picture," he went on slowly, "but he +showed it to me once or twice, and I too got very fond of it! It was +just a little girl's face, very bright and very winsome, and over there +we were lonely, and it got to mean a good deal to both of us. And one +night Monty would gamble--it was one of his faults, poor chap--and he +had nothing left but his picture, and I played him for it--and won!" + +"Brute!" she murmured in an odd, choked tone. + +"Sounds so, doesn't it? But I wanted that picture. Afterwards came our +terrible journey back to the Coast, when I carried the poor old chap +on my back day by day, and stood over him at night potting those black +beasts when they crept up too close--for they were on our track all the +time. I wouldn't tell you the whole story of those days, Miss Wendermott +for it would keep you awake at night; but I've a fancy for telling you +this. I'd like you to believe it, for it's gospel truth. I didn't leave +him until I felt absolutely and actually certain that he couldn't live +an hour. He was passing into unconsciousness, and a crowd of those +natives were close upon our heels. So I left him and took the picture +with me--and I think since then that it has meant almost as much to me +as ever it had been to him." + +"That," she remarked, "sounds a little far-fetched--not to say +impossible." + +"Some day," he answered boldly, "I shall speak to you of this again, and +I shall try to convince you that it is truth!" + +He could not see her face, but he knew very well in some occult manner +that she had parted with some at least of her usual composure. As a +matter of fact she was nervous and ill-at-ease. + +"You have not yet told me," she said abruptly, "what you imagine can be +this girl's reasons for remaining unknown." + +"I can only guess them," he said gravely; "I can only suppose that she +is ashamed of her father and declines to meet any one connected with +him. It is very wrong and very narrow of her. If I could talk to her for +ten minutes and tell her how the poor old chap used to dream about her +and kiss her picture, I can't think but she'd be sorry." + +"Try and think," she said, looking still away from him, "that she must +have another reason. You say that you liked her picture! Try and be +generous in your thoughts of her for its sake." + +"I will try," he answered, "especially--" + +"Yes?" + +"Especially--because the picture makes me think--sometimes--of you!" + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + + +Trent had done many brave things in his life, but he had never been +conscious of such a distinct thrill of nervousness as he experienced +during those few minutes' silence. Ernestine, for her part, was +curiously exercised in her mind. He had shaken her faith in his +guilt--he had admitted her to his point of view. She judged herself from +his standpoint, and the result was unpleasant. She had a sudden impulse +to tell him the truth, to reveal her identity, tell him her reasons for +concealment. Perhaps her suspicions had been hasty. Then the personal +note in his last speech had produced a serious effect on her, and all +the time she felt that her silence was emboldening him, as indeed it +was. + +"The first time I saw you," he went on, "the likeness struck me. I felt +as though I were meeting some one whom I had known all my life." + +She laughed a little uneasily. "And you found yourself instead the +victim of an interviewer! What a drop from the romantic to the prosaic!" + +"There has never been any drop at all," he answered firmly, "and you +have always seemed to me the same as that picture--something quite +precious and apart from my life. It's been a poor sort of thing perhaps. +I came from the people, I never had any education, I was as rough as +most men of my sort, and I have done many things which I would sooner +cut off my right hand than do again. But that was when I lived in the +darkness. It was before you came." + +"Mr. Trent, will you take me back to Lady Tresham, please?" + +"In a moment," he answered gravely. "Don't think that I am going to be +too rash. I know the time hasn't come yet. I am not going to say any +more. Only I want you to know this. The whole success of my life is as +nothing compared with the hope of one day--" + +"I will not hear another word," she interrupted hastily, and underneath +her white veil he could see a scarlet spot of colour in her cheeks; in +her speech, too, there was a certain tremulousness. "If you will not +come with me I must find Lady Tresham alone." + +They turned round, but as they neared the middle of the paddock progress +became almost impossible. The bell had rung for the principal race of +the day and the numbers were going up. The paddock was crowded with +others beside loiterers, looking the horses over and stolidly pushing +their way through the little groups to the front rank. From Tattersall's +came the roar of clamorous voices. All around were evidences of that +excitement which always precedes a great race. + +"I think," he said, "that we had better watch the race from these +railings. Your gown will be spoilt in the crowd if we try to get out of +the paddock, and you probably wouldn't get anywhere in time to see it." + +She acquiesced silently, recognising that, although he had not alluded +to it in words, he had no intention of saying anything further at +present. Trent, who had been looking forward to the next few minutes +with all the eagerness of a man who, for the first time in his life, +runs the favourite in a great race, smiled as he realised how very +content he was to stay where nothing could be seen until the final +struggle was over. They took up their places side by side and leaned +over the railing. + +"Have you much money on Iris?" she asked. + +"A thousand both ways," he answered. "I don't plunge, but as I backed +her very early I got 10 to 1 and 7 to 2. Listen! They're off!" + +There was a roar from across the course, followed by a moment's +breathless silence. The clamour of voices from Tattersall's subsided, +and in its place rose the buzz of excitement from the stands, the murmur +of many voices gradually growing in volume. Far away down the straight +Ernestine and Trent, leaning over the rail, could see the little +coloured specks come dancing into sight. The roar of voices once more +beat upon the air. + +"Nero the Second wins!" + +"The favourite's done!" + +"Nero the Second for a monkey!" + +"Nero the Second romps in!" + + +"Iris! Iris! Iris wins!" + +It was evident from the last shout and the gathering storm of excitement +that, after all, it was to be a race. They were well in sight now; Nero +the Second and Iris, racing neck-and-neck, drawing rapidly away from +the others. The air shook with the sound of hoarse and fiercely excited +voices. + +"Nero the Second wins!" + +"Iris wins!" + +Neck-and-neck they passed the post. So it seemed at least to Ernestine +and many others, but Trent shook his head and looked at her with a +smile. + +"Iris was beaten by a short neck," he said. "Good thing you didn't back +her. That's a fine horse of the Prince's, though!" + +"I'm so sorry," she cried. "Are you sure?" + +He nodded and pointed to the numbers which were going up. She flashed a +sudden look upon him which more than compensated him for his defeat. +At least he had earned her respect that day, as a man who knew how to +accept defeat gracefully. They walked slowly up the paddock and stood on +the edge of the crowd, whilst a great person went out to meet his horse +amidst a storm of cheering. It chanced that he caught sight of Trent on +the way, and, pausing for a moment, he held out his hand. + +"Your horse made a magnificent fight for it, Mr. Trent," he said. "I'm +afraid I only got the verdict by a fluke. Another time may you be the +fortunate one!" + +Trent answered him simply, but without awkwardness. Then his horse came +in and he held out his hand to the crestfallen jockey, whilst with his +left he patted Iris's head. + +"Never mind, Dick," he said cheerfully, "you rode a fine race and the +best horse won. Better luck next time." + +Several people approached Trent, but he turned away at once to +Ernestine. + +"You will let me take you to Lady Tresham now," he said. + +"If you please," she answered quietly. + +They left the paddock by the underground way. When they emerged upon +the lawn the band was playing and crowds of people were strolling about +under the trees. + +"The boxes," Trent suggested, "must be very hot now!" + +He turned down a side-walk away from the stand towards an empty +seat under an elm-tree, and, after a moment's scarcely perceptible +hesitation, she followed his lead. He laughed softly to himself. If this +was defeat, what in the world was better? + +"This is your first Ascot, is it not?" she asked. + +"My first!" + +"And your first defeat?" + +"I suppose it is," he admitted cheerfully. "I rather expected to win, +too." + +"You must be very disappointed, I am afraid." + +"I have lost," he said thoughtfully, "a gold cup. I have gained--" + +She half rose and shook out her skirts as though about to leave him. He +stopped short and found another conclusion to his sentence. + +"Experience!" + +A faint smile parted her lips. She resumed her seat. + +"I am glad to find you," she said, "so much of a philosopher. Now talk +to me for a few minutes about what you have been doing in Africa." + +He obeyed her, and very soon she forgot the well dressed crowd of +men and women by whom they were surrounded, the light hum of gay +conversation, the band which was playing the fashionable air of the +moment. She saw instead the long line of men of many races, stripped to +the waist and toiling as though for their lives under a tropical sun, +she saw the great brown water-jars passed down the line, men fainting +beneath the burning sun and their places taken by others. She heard the +shrill whistle of alarm, the beaten drum; she saw the spade exchanged +for the rifle, and the long line of toilers disappear behind the natural +earthwork which their labours had created. She saw black forms rise +stealthily from the long, rank grass, a flight of quivering spears, the +horrid battle-cry of the natives rang in her ears. The whole drama of +the man's great past rose up before her eyes, made a living and real +thing by his simple but vigorous language. That he effaced himself +from it went for nothing; she saw him there perhaps more clearly than +anything else, the central and domineering figure, a man of brains and +nerve who, with his life in his hands, faced with equal immovability +a herculean task and the chances of death. Certain phrases in Fred's +letter had sunk deep into her mind, they were recalled very vividly by +the presence of the man himself, telling his own story. She sat in the +sunlight with the music in her ears, listening to his abrupt, vivid +speech, and a fear came to her which blanched her cheeks and caught at +her throat. The hand which held her dainty parasol of lace shook, and an +indescribable thrill ran through her veins. She could no more think +of this man as a clodhopper, a coarse upstart without manners or +imagination. In many ways he fell short of all the usual standards by +which the men of her class were judged, yet she suddenly realised that +he possessed a touch of that quality which lifted him at once far over +their heads. The man had genius. Without education or culture he had yet +achieved greatness. By his side the men who were passing about on the +lawn became suddenly puppets. Form and style, manners and easy speech +became suddenly stripped of their significance to her. The man at her +side had none of these things, yet he was of a greater world. She felt +her enmity towards him suddenly weakened. Only her pride now could +help her. She called upon it fiercely. He was the man whom she had +deliberately believed to be guilty of her father's death, the man whom +she had set herself to entrap. She brushed all those other thoughts away +and banished firmly that dangerous kindness of manner into which she had +been drifting. + +And he, on his part, felt a glow of keen pleasure when he realised how +the events of the day had gone in his favour. If not yet of her world, +he knew now that his becoming so would be hereafter purely a matter of +time. He looked up through the green leaves at the blue sky, bedappled +with white, fleecy clouds, and wondered whether she guessed that his +appearance here, his ownership of Iris, the studious care with which he +had placed himself in the hands of a 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! + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + + +"And now," she said, rising, "you really must take me to Lady Tresham! +They will think that I am lost." + +"Are you still at your rooms?" he asked. + +She nodded. + +"Yes, only I'm having them spring-cleaned for a few days. I am staying +at Tresham House." + +"May I come and see you there?" + +The man's quiet pertinacity kindled a sort of indignation in her. The +sudden weakness in her defences was unbearable. + +"I think not," she answered shortly. "You don't know Lady Tresham, and +they might not approve. Lady Tresham is rather old-fashioned." + +"Oh, Lady Tresham is all right," he answered. "I suppose I shall see you +to-night if you are staying there. They have asked me to dinner!" + +She was taken aback and showed it. Again he had the advantage. He did +not tell her that on his return he had found scores of invitations from +people he had never heard of before. + +"You are by way of going into society, then," she answered insolently. + +"I don't think I've made any particular efforts," he answered. + +"Money," she murmured, "is an everlasting force!" + +"The people of your world," he answered, with a flash of contempt, "are +the people who find it so." + +She was silent then, and Trent was far from being discouraged by her +momentary irritability. He was crossing the lawn now by her side, +carrying himself well, with a new confidence in his air and bearing +which she did not fail to take note of. The sunlight, the music, and +the pleasant air of excitement were all in his veins. He was full of +the strong joy of living. And then, in the midst of it all, came a dull, +crashing blow. It was as though all his castles in the air had come +toppling about his ears, the blue sky had turned to stony grey and the +sweet waltz music had become a dirge. Always a keen watcher of men's +faces, he had glanced for a second time at a gaunt, sallow man who wore +a loose check suit and a grey Homburg hat. The eyes of the two men met. +Then the blood had turned to ice in Trent's veins and the ground had +heaved beneath his feet. It was the one terrible chance which Fate had +held against him, and she had played the card. + +Considering the nature and suddenness of the blow which had fallen upon +him, Trent's recovery was marvellous. The two men had come face to +face upon the short turf, involuntarily each had come to a standstill. +Ernestine looked from one to the other a little bewildered. + +"I should like a word with you, Trent," Captain Francis said quietly. + +Trent nodded. + +"In five minutes," he said, "I will return here--on the other side of +the band-stand, say." + +Francis nodded and stood aside. Trent and Ernestine continued their +progress towards the stand. + +"Your friend," Ernestine remarked, "seemed to come upon you like a +modern Banquo!" + +Trent, who did not understand the allusion, was for once discreet. + +"He is a man with whom I had dealings abroad," he said, "I did not +expect him to turn up here." + +"In West Africa?" she asked quickly. + +Trent smiled enigmatically. + +"There are many foreign countries besides Africa," he said, "and I've +been in most of them. This is box No. 13, then. I shall see you this +evening." + +She nodded, and Trent was free again. He did not make his way at once +to the band-stand. Instead he entered the small refreshment-room at +the base of the building and called for a glass of brandy. He drank +it slowly, his eyes fixed upon the long row of bottles ranged upon +the shelf opposite to him, he himself carried back upon a long wave of +thoughts to a little West African station where the moist heat rose +in fever mists and where an endless stream of men passed backward and +forward to their tasks with wan, weary faces and slowly dragging limbs. +What a cursed chance which had brought him once more face to face with +the one weak spot in his life, the one chapter which, had he the power, +he would most willingly seal for ever! From outside came the ringing of +a bell, the hoarse shouting of many voices in the ring, through the open +door a vision of fluttering waves of colour, lace parasols and picture +hats, little trills of feminine laughter, the soft rustling of muslins +and silks. A few moments ago it had all seemed so delightful to him--and +now there lay a hideous blot upon the day. + +It seemed to him when he left the little bar that he had been there for +hours, as a matter of fact barely five minutes had passed since he had +left Ernestine. He stood for a moment on the edge of the walk, dazzled +by the sunlight, then he stepped on to the grass and made his way +through the throng. The air was full of soft, gay music, and the skirts +and flounces of the women brushed against him at every step. Laughter +and excitement were the order of the day. Trent, with his suddenly +pallid face and unseeing eyes, seemed a little out of place in such a +scene of pleasure. Francis, who was smoking a cigar, looked up as he +approached and made room for him upon the seat. + +"I did not expect to see you in England quite so soon, Captain Francis," +Trent said. + +"I did not expect," Francis answered, "ever to be in England again. I am +told that my recovery was a miracle. I am also told that I owe my Life +to you!" + +Trent shrugged his shoulders. + +"I would have done as much for any of my people," he said, "and you +don't owe me any thanks. To be frank with you, I hoped you'd die." + +"You could easily have made sure of it," Francis answered. + +"It wasn't my way," Trent answered shortly. "Now what do you want with +me?" + +Francis turned towards him with a curious mixture of expressions in his +face. + +"Look here," he said, "I want to believe in you! You saved my life and +I'm not over-anxious to do you a mischief. But you must tell me what you +have done with Vill--Monty." + +"Don't you know where he is?" Trent asked quickly. + +"I? Certainly not! How should I?" + +"Perhaps not," Trent said, "but here's the truth. When I got back to +Attra Monty had disappeared--ran away to England, and as yet I've heard +never a word of him. I'd meant to do the square thing by him and bring +him back myself. Instead of that he gave us all the slip, but unless +he's a lot different to what he was last time I saw him, he's not fit to +be about alone." + +"I heard that he had left," Francis said, "from Mr. Walsh." + +"He either came quite alone," Trent said, "in which case it is odd that +nothing has been heard of him, or Da Souza has got hold of him." + +"Oom Sam's brother?" + +Trent nodded. + +"And his interest?" Francis asked. + +"Well, he is a large shareholder in the Company," Trent said. "Of course +he could upset us all if he liked. I should say that Da Souza would try +all he could to keep him in the background until he had disposed of his +shares." + +"And how does your stock hold?" + +"I don't know," Trent said. "I only landed yesterday. I'm pretty certain +though that there's no market for the whole of Da Souza's holding." + +"He has a large interest, then?" + +"A very large one," Trent answered drily. + +"I should like," Francis said, "to understand this matter properly. As +a matter of fact I suppose that Monty is entitled to half the +purchase-money you received for the Company." + +Trent assented. + +"It isn't that I grudge him that," he said, "although, with the other +financial enterprises I have gone into, I don't know how I should raise +half a million of money to pay him off. But don't you see my sale of the +charter to the Company is itself, Monty being alive, an illegal act. +The title will be wrong, and the whole affair might drift into Chancery, +just when a vigorous policy is required to make the venture a success. +If Monty were here and in his right mind, I think we could come to +terms, but, when I saw him last at any rate, he was quite incapable, and +he might become a tool to anything. The Bears might get hold of him and +ruin us all. In short, it's a beastly mess!" + +Francis looked at him keenly. + +"What do you expect me to do?" he asked. + +"I have no right to expect anything," Trent said. "However, I saved your +life and you may consider yourself therefore under some obligation to +me. I will tell you then what I would have you do. In the first place, +I know no more where he is than you do. He may be in England or he may +not. I shall go to Da Souza, who probably knows. You can come with me if +you like. I don't want to rob the man of a penny. He shall have all he +is entitled to--only I do want to arrange terms with him quietly, and +not have the thing talked about. It's as much for the others' sake as +my own. The men who came into my Syndicate trusted me, and I don't want +them left." + +Francis took a little silver case from his pocket, lit a cigarette, and +smoked for a moment or two thoughtfully. + +"It is possible," he said at last, "that you are an honest man. On the +other hand you must admit that the balance of probability from my point +of view is on the other side. Let us travel backwards a little way--to +my first meeting with you. I witnessed the granting of this concession +to you by the King of Bekwando. According to its wording you were +virtually Monty's heir, and Monty was lying drunk, in a climate where +strong waters and death walk hand-in-hand. You leave him in the bush, +proclaim his death, and take sole possession. I find him alive, do the +best I can for him, and here the first act ends. Then what afterwards? +I hear of you as an empire-maker and a millionaire. Nevertheless, Monty +was alive and you knew he was alive, but when I reach Attra he has been +spirited away! I want to know where! You say you don't know. It may be +true, but it doesn't sound like it." + +Trent's under-lip was twitching, a sure sign of the tempest within, but +he kept himself under restraint and said never a word. + +Francis continued, "Now I do not wish to be your enemy, Scarlett Trent, +or to do you an ill turn, but this is my word to you. Produce Monty +within a week and open reasonable negotiations for treating him fairly, +and I will keep silent. But if you can't produce him at the end of that +time I must go to his relations and lay all these things before them." + +Trent rose slowly to his feet. + +"Give me your address," he said, "I will do what I can." + +Francis tore a leaf from his pocket-book and wrote a few words upon it. + +"That will find me at any time," he said. "One moment, Trent. When I saw +you first you were with--a lady." + +"Well!" + +"I have been away from England so long," Francis continued slowly, "that +my memory has suffered. Yet that lady's face was somehow familiar. May I +ask her name?" + +"Miss Ernestine Wendermott," Trent answered slowly. + +Francis threw away his cigarette and lit another. + +"Thank you," he said. + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + + +Da Souza's office was neither furnished nor located with the idea of +impressing casual visitors. It was in a back-street off an alley, and +although within a stone's throw of Lothbury its immediate surroundings +were not exhilarating. A blank wall faced it, a green-grocer's shop +shared with a wonderful, cellar-like public-house the honour of its more +immediate environment. Trent, whose first visit it was, looked about him +with surprise mingled with some disgust. + +He pushed open the swing door and found himself face to face with Da +Souza's one clerk--a youth of unkempt appearance, shabbily but flashily +dressed, with sallow complexion and eyes set close together. He was +engaged at that particular moment in polishing a large diamond pin upon +the sleeve of his coat, which operation he suspended to gaze with much +astonishment at this unlooked-for visitor. Trent had come straight from +Ascot, straight indeed from his interview with Francis, and was still +wearing his racing-glasses. + +"I wish to see Mr. Da Souza," Trent said. "Is he in?" + +"I believe so, sir," the boy answered. "What name?" + +"Trent! Mr. Scarlett Trent!" + +The door of an inner office opened, and Da Souza, sleek and curled, +presented himself. He showed all his white teeth in the smile with which +he welcomed his visitor. The light of battle was in his small, keen +eyes, in his cringing bow, his mock humility. + +"I am most honoured, Mr. Trent, sir," he declared. "Welcome back to +England. When did you return?" + +"Yesterday," Trent said shortly. + +"And you have come," Da Souza continued, "fresh from the triumphs of the +race-course. It is so, I trust?" + +"I have come straight from Ascot," Trent replied, "but my horse was +beaten if that is what you mean. I did not come here to talk about +racing though. I want a word with you in private." + +"With much pleasure, sir," Da Souza answered, throwing open with a +little flourish the door of his sanctum. "Will you step in? This way! +The chair is dusty. Permit me!" + +Trent threw a swift glance around the room in which he found himself. It +was barely furnished, and a window, thick with dust, looked out on +the dingy back-wall of a bank or some public building. The floor was +uncovered, the walls were hung with yellow maps of gold-mines all in +the West African district. Da Souza himself, spick and span, with glossy +boots and a flower in his buttonhole, was certainly the least shabby +thing in the room. + +"You know very well," Trent said, "what I have come about. Of course +you'll pretend you don't, so to save time I'll tell you. What have you +done with Monty?" + +Da Souza spread outwards the palms of his hands. He spoke with +well-affected impatience. + +"Monty! always Monty! What do I want with him? It is you who should look +after him, not I." + +Trent turned quietly round and locked the door. Da Souza would have +called out, but a paroxysm of fear had seized him. His fat, white face +was pallid, and his knees were shaking. Trent's hand fell upon his +shoulder, and Da Souza felt as though the claws of a trap had gripped +him. + +"If you call out I'll throttle you," Trent said. "Now listen. Francis is +in England and, unless Monty is produced, will tell the whole story. I +shall do the best I can for all of us, but I'm not going to have Monty +done to death. Come, let's have the truth." + +Da Souza was grey now with a fear greater even than a physical one. He +had been so near wealth. Was he to lose everything? + +"Mr. Trent," he whispered, "my dear friend, have reason. Monty, I tell +you, is only half alive, he hangs on, but it is a mere thread of life. +Leave it all to me! To-morrow he shall be dead!--oh, quite naturally. +There shall be no risk! Trent, Trent!" + +His cry ended in a gurgle, for Trent's hand was on his throat. + +"Listen, you miserable hound," he whispered. "Take me to him this +moment, or I'll shake the life out of you. Did you ever know me go back +from my word?" + +Da Souza took up his hat with an ugly oath and yielded. The two men left +the office together. + + * * * * * + +"Listen!" + +The two women sat in silence, waiting for some repetition of the sound. +This time there was certainly no possibility of any mistake. From the +room above their heads came the feeble, quavering sobbing of an old man. +Julie threw down her book and sprang up. + +"Mother, I cannot bear it any longer," she cried. "I know where the key +is, and I am going into that room." + +Mrs. Da Souza's portly frame quivered with excitement. + +"My child," she pleaded, "don't Julie, do remember! Your father will +know, and then--oh, I shall be frightened to death!" + +"It is nothing to do with you, mother," the girl said, "I am going." + +Mrs. Da Souza produced a capacious pocket-handkerchief, reeking with +scent, and dabbed her eyes with it. From the days when she too had been +like Julie, slim and pretty, she had been every hour in dread of her +husband. Long ago her spirit had been broken and her independence +subdued. To her friend and confidants no word save of pride and love +for her husband had ever passed her lips, yet now as she watched her +daughter she was conscious of a wild, passionate wish that her fate at +least might be a different one. And while she mopped her eyes and looked +backward, Julie disappeared. + +Even Julie, as she ascended the stairs with the key of the locked room +in her hand, was conscious of unusual tremors. If her position with +regard to her father was not the absolute condition of serfdom into +which her mother had been ground down, she was at least afraid of him, +and she remembered the strict commands he had laid upon them all. The +room was not to be open save by himself. All cries and entreaties were +to be disregarded, every one was to behave as though that room did not +exist. They had borne it already for days, the heart-stirring moans, +the faint, despairing cries of the prisoner, and she could bear it no +longer. She had a tender little heart, and from the first it had been +moved by the appearance of the pitiful old man, leaning so heavily upon +her father's arm, as they had come up the garden walk together. She made +up her mind to satisfy herself at least that his isolation was of his +own choice. So she went boldly up the stairs and thrust the key into the +lock. A moment's hesitation, then she threw it open. + +Her first impulse, when she had looked into the face of the man who +stumbled up in fear at her entrance, was to then and there abandon her +enterprise--for Monty just then was not a pleasant sight to look upon. +The room was foul with the odour of spirits and tobacco smoke. Monty +himself was unkempt and unwashed, his eyes were bloodshot, and he had +fallen half across the table with the gesture of a drunken man. At the +sight of him her pity died away. After all, then, the sobbing they had +heard was the maudlin crying of a drunken man. Yet he was very old, and +there was something about the childish, breathless fear with which he +was regarding her which made her hesitate. She lingered instead, and +finding him tongue-tied, spoke to him. + +"We heard you talking to yourself downstairs," she said, "and we were +afraid that you might be in pain." + +"Ah," he muttered, "That is all, then! There is no one behind you--no +one who wants me!" + +"There is no one in the house," she assured him, "save my mother and +myself." + +He drew a little breath which ended in a sob. "You see," he said +vaguely, "I sit up here hour by hour, and I think that I fancy things. +Only a little while ago I fancied that I heard Mr. Walsh's voice, and he +wanted the mission-box, the wooden box with the cross, you know. I keep +on thinking I hear him. Stupid, isn't it?" + +He smiled weakly, and his bony fingers stole round the tumbler which +stood by his side. She shook her head at him smiling, and crossed over +to him. She was not afraid any more. + +"I wouldn't drink if I were you," she said, "it can't be good for you, +I'm sure!" + +"Good," he answered slowly, "it's poison--rank poison." + +"If I were you," she said, "I would put all this stuff away and go for a +nice walk. It would do you much more good." + +He shook his head. + +"I daren't," he whispered. "They're looking for me now. I must +hide--hide all the time!" + +"Who are looking for you?" she asked. + +"Don't you know? Mr. Walsh and his wife! They have come over after me!" + +"Why?" + +"Didn't you know," he muttered, "that I am a thief?" + +She shook her head. + +"No, I certainly didn't. I'm very sorry!" + +He nodded his head vigorously a great many times. + +"Won't you tell me about it?" she asked. "Was it anything very bad?" + +"I don't know," he said. "It's so hard to remember! It is something like +this! I seem to have lived for such a long time, and when I look back I +can remember things that happened a very long time ago, but then there +seems a gap, and everything is all misty, and it makes my head ache +dreadfully to try and remember," he moaned. + +"Then don't try," she said kindly. "I'll read to you for a little time +if you like, and you shall sit quite quiet." + +He seemed not to have heard her. He continued presently-- + +"Once before I died, it was all I wanted. Just to have heard her speak, +to have seen my little girl grown into a woman, and the sea was always +there, and Oom Sam would always come with that cursed rum. Then one day +came Trent and talked of money and spoke of England, and when he went +away it rang for ever in my ears, and at night I heard her calling for +me across the sea. So I stole out, and the great steamer was lying +there with red fires at her funnel, and I was mad. She was crying for me +across the sea, so I took the money!" + +She patted his hand gently. There was a lump in her throat, and her eyes +were wet. + +"Was it your daughter you wanted so much to see?" she asked softly. + +"My daughter! My little girl," he answered! "And I heard her calling to +me with her mother's voice across the sea. So I took the money." + +"No one would blame you very much for that, I am sure," she said +cheerfully. "You are frightening yourself needlessly. I will speak to +Father, and he shall help you." + +He held up his hand. + +"He is hiding me," he whispered. "It is through him I knew that they +were after me. I don't mind for myself, but she might get to know, and I +have brought disgrace enough upon her. Listen!" + +There were footsteps upon the stairs. He clung to her in an agony of +terror. + +"They are coming!" he cried. "Hide me! Oh, hide me!" + +But she too was almost equally terrified, for she had recognised her +father's tread. The door was thrown open and De Souza entered, followed +by Scarlett Trent. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + + +The old man and the girl were equally terrified, both without cause. Da +Souza forgot for a moment to be angry at his daughter's disobedience; +and was quick to see that her presence there was all to his advantage. +Monty, as white as death, was stricken dumb to see Trent. He sank back +gasping into a chair. Trent came up to him with outstretched hands and +with a look of keen pity in his hard face. + +"Monty, old chap," he said, "what on earth are you scared at? Don't +you know I'm glad to see you! Didn't I come to Attra to get you back to +England? Shake hands, partner. I've got lots of money for you and good +news." + +Monty's hand was limp and cold, his eyes were glazed and expressionless. +Trent looked at the half-empty bottle by his side and turned savagely to +Da Souza. + +"You blackguard!" he said in a low tone, "you wanted to kill him, did +you? Don't you know that to shut him up here and ply him with brandy is +as much murder as though you stood with a knife at his throat?" + +"He goes mad without something to drink," Da Souza muttered. + +"He'll go mad fast enough with a bottle of brandy within reach, and you +know it," Trent answered fiercely. "I am going to take him away from +here." + +Da Souza was no longer cringing. He shrugged his shoulders and thrust +his fat little hands into his trousers pockets. + +"Very well," he said darkly, "you go your own way. You won't take my +advice. I've been a City man all my life, and I know a thing or two. You +bring Monty to the general meeting of the Bekwando Company and explain +his position, and I tell you, you'll have the whole market toppling +about your ears. No concern of mine, of course. I have got rid of a few +of my shares, and I'll work a few more off before the crash. But what +about you? What about Scarlett Trent, the millionaire?" + +"I can afford to lose a bit," Trent answered quietly, "I'm not afraid." + +Da Souza laughed a little hysterically. + +"You think you're a financial genius, I suppose," he said, "because +you've brought a few things off. Why, you don't know the A B C of the +thing. I tell you this, my friend. A Company like the Bekwando Company +is very much like a woman's reputation, drop a hint or two, start just a +bit of talk, and I tell you the flames'll soon do the work." + +Trent turned his back upon him. + +"Monty," he said, "you aren't afraid to come with me?" + +Monty looked at him, perplexed and troubled. + +"You've nothing to be afraid of," Trent continued. "As to the money at +Mr. Walsh's house, I settled that all up with him before I left Attra. +It belonged to you really, for I'd left more than that for you." + +"There is no one, then," Monty asked in a slow, painful whisper, "who +will put me in prison?" + +"I give you my word, Monty," Trent declared, "that there is not a single +soul who has any idea of the sort." + +"You see, it isn't that I mind," Monty continued in a low, quivering +voice, "but there's my little girl! My real name might come out, and I +wouldn't have her know what I've been for anything." + +"She shall not know," Trent said, "I'll promise you'll be perfectly safe +with me." + +Monty rose up weakly. His knees were shaking, and he was in a pitiful +state. He cast a sidelong glance at the brandy bottle by his side, and +his hand stole out towards it. But Trent stopped him gently but firmly. + +"Not now, Monty," he said, "you've had enough of that!" + +The man's hand dropped to his side. He looked into Trent's face, and the +years seemed to fade away into a mist. + +"You were always a hard man, Scarlett Trent," he said. "You were always +hard on me!" + +"Maybe so," Trent answered, "yet you'd have died in D.T. before now but +for me! I kept you from it as far as I could. I'm going to keep you from +it now!" + +Monty turned a woebegone face around the little room. + +"I don't know," he said; "I'm comfortable here, and I'm too old, Trent, +to live your life. I'd begin again, Trent, I would indeed, if I were +ten years younger. It's too late now! I couldn't live a day without +something to keep up my strength!" + +"He's quite right, Trent," Da Souza put in hastily. "He's too old to +start afresh now. He's comfortable here and well looked after; make him +an allowance, or give him a good lump sum in lieu of all claims. I'll +draw it out; you'll sign it, won't you, Monty? Be reasonable, Trent! +It's the best course for all of us!" + +But Trent shook his head. "I have made up my mind," he said. "He must +come with me. Monty, there is the little girl! + +"Too late," Monty moaned; "look at me!" + +"But if you could leave her a fortune, make her magnificent presents?" + +Monty wavered then. His dull eyes shone once more! + +"If I could do that," he murmured. + +"I pledge my word that you shall," Trent answered. Monty rose up. + +"I am ready," he said simply. "Let us start at once." + +Da Souza planted himself in front of them. + +"You defy me!" he said. "You will not trust him with me or take my +advice. Very well, my friend! Now listen! You want to ruin me! Well, +if I go, the Bekwando Company shall go too, you understand! Ruin for me +shall mean ruin for Mr. Scarlett Trent--ah, ruin and disgrace. It shall +mean imprisonment if I can bring it about, and I have friends! Don't you +know that you are guilty of fraud? You sold what wasn't yours and put +the money in your pocket! You left your partner to rot in a fever swamp, +or to be done to death by those filthy blacks. The law will call +that swindling! You will find yourself in the dock, my friend, in the +prisoners' dock, I say! Come, how do you like that, Mr. Scarlett Trent? +If you leave this room with him, you are a ruined man. I shall see to +it." + +Trent swung him out of the way--a single contemptuous turn of the wrist, +and Da Souza reeled against the mantelpiece. He held out his hand to +Monty and they left the room together. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + + +"From a conversational point of view," Lady Tresham remarked, "our guest +to-night seems scarcely likely to distinguish himself." + +Ernestine looked over her fan across the drawing-room. + +"I have never seen such an alteration in a man," she said, "in so short +a time. This morning he amazed me. He knew the right people and did the +right things--carried himself too like a man who is sure of himself. +To-night he is simply a booby." + +"Perhaps it is his evening clothes," Lady Tresham remarked, "they take +some getting used to, I believe." + +"This morning," Ernestine said, "he had passed that stage altogether. +This is, I suppose, a relapse! Such a nuisance for you!" + +Lady Tresham rose and smiled sweetly at the man who was taking her in. + +"Well, he is to be your charge, so I hope you may find him more amusing +than he looks," she answered. + +It was an early dinner, to be followed by a visit to a popular theatre. +A few hours ago Trent was looking forward to his evening with the +keenest pleasure--now he was dazed--he could not readjust his point of +view to the new conditions. He knew very well that it was his wealth, +and his wealth only, which had brought him as an equal amongst these +people, all, so far as education and social breeding was concerned, of +so entirely a different sphere. He looked around the table. What would +they say if they knew? He would be thrust out as an interloper. Opposite +to him was a Peer who was even then engaged in threading the meshes of +the Bankruptcy Court, what did they care for that?--not a whit! He was +of their order though he was a beggar. But as regards himself, he was +fully conscious of the difference. The measure of his wealth was the +measure of his standing amongst them. Without it he would be thrust +forth--he could make no claim to association with them. The thought +filled him with a slow, bitter anger. He sent away his soup untasted, +and he could not find heart to speak to the girl who had been the +will-o'-the-wisp leading him into this evil plight. + +Presently she addressed him. + +"Mr. Trent!" + +He turned round and looked at her. + +"Is it necessary for me to remind you, I wonder," she said, "that it is +usual to address a few remarks--quite as a matter of form, you know--to +the woman whom you bring in to dinner?" + +He eyed her dispassionately. + +"I am not used to making conversation," he said. "Is there anything in +the world which I could talk about likely to interest you?" + +She took a salted almond from a silver dish by his side and smiled +sweetly upon him. "Dear me!" she said, "how fierce! Don't attempt it +if you feel like that, please! What have you been doing since I saw you +last?--losing your money or your temper, or both?" + +He looked at her with a curiously grim smile. + +"If I lost the former," he said, "I should very soon cease to be a +person of interest, or of any account at all, amongst your friends." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"You do not strike one," she remarked, "as the sort of person likely to +lose a fortune on the race-course." + +"You are quite right," he answered, "I think that I won money. A couple +of thousand at least." + +"Two thousand pounds!" She actually sighed, and lost her appetite for +the oyster patty with which she had been trifling. Trent looked around +the table. + +"At the same time," he continued in a lower key, "I'll make a confession +to you, Miss Wendermott, I wouldn't care to make to any one else here. +I've been pretty lucky as you know, made money fast--piled it up in +fact. To-day, for the first time, I have come face to face with the +possibility of a reverse." + +"Is this a new character?" she murmured. "Are you becoming +faint-hearted?" + +"It is no ordinary reverse," he said slowly. "It is +collapse--everything!" + +"O--oh!" + +She looked at him attentively. Her own heart was beating. If he had +not been engrossed by his care lest any one might over-hear their +conversation, he would have been astonished at the change in her face. + +"You are talking in enigmas surely," she said. "Nothing of that sort +could possibly happen to you. They tell me that the Bekwando Land shares +are priceless, and that you must make millions." + +"This afternoon," he said, raising his glass to his lips and draining +it, "I think that I must have dozed upon the lawn at Ascot. I sat there +for some time, back amongst the trees, and I think that I must have +fallen to sleep. There was a whisper in my ears and I saw myself +stripped of everything. How was it? I forget now! A concession +repudiated, a bank failure, a big slump--what does it matter? The money +was gone, and I was simply myself again, Scarlett Trent, a labourer, +penniless and of no account." + +"It must have been an odd sensation," she said thoughtfully. + +"I will tell you what it made me realise," 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?" + +"You are a man," she said, looking at him earnestly; "you have the nerve +and wits of a man, what you have done before you might do again." + +"In the meantime I should be ostracised." + +"By a good many people, no doubt." + +He held his peace for a time, and ate and drank what was set before him. +He was conscious that his was scarcely a dinner-table manner. He was +too eager, too deeply in earnest. People opposite were looking at them, +Ernestine talked to her vis-a-vis. It was some time before he spoke +again, when he did he took up the thread of their conversation where he +had left it. + +"By the majority, of course," he said. "I have wondered sometimes +whether there might be any one who would be different." + +"I should be sorry," she said demurely. + +"Sorry, yes; so would the tradespeople who had had my money and the men +who call themselves my friends and forget that they are my debtors." + +"You are cynical." + +"I cannot help it," he answered. "It is my dream. To-day, you know, I +have stood face to face with evil things." + +"Do you know," she said, "I should never have called you a dreamer, a +man likely to fancy things. I wonder if anything has really happened to +make you talk like this?" + +He flashed a quick glance at her underneath his heavy brows. Nothing in +her face betrayed any more than the most ordinary interest in what +he was saying. Yet somehow, from that moment, he had uneasy doubts +concerning her, whether there might be by any chance some reason for +the tolerance and the interest with which she had regarded him from the +first. The mere suspicion of it was a shock to him. He relapsed once +more into a state of nervous silence. Ernestine yawned, and her hostess +threw more than one pitying glance towards her. + +Afterwards the whole party adjourned to the theatre, altogether in an +informal manner. Some of the guests had carriages waiting, others went +down in hansoms. Ernestine was rather late in coming downstairs and +found Trent waiting for her in the hall. She was wearing a wonderful +black satin opera cloak with pale green lining, her maid had touched up +her hair and wound a string of pearls around her neck. He watched her +as she came slowly down the stairs, buttoning her gloves, and looking at +him with eyebrows faintly raised to see him waiting there alone. After +all, what folly! Was it likely that wealth, however great, could ever +make him of her world, could ever bring him in reality one degree nearer +to her? That night he had lost all confidence. He told himself that it +was the rankest presumption to even think of her. + +"The others," he said, "have gone on. Lady Tresham left word that I was +to take you." + +She glanced at the old-fashioned clock which stood in the corner of the +hall. + +"How ridiculous to have hurried so!" she said. "One might surely be +comfortable here instead of waiting at the theatre." + +She walked towards the door with him. His own little night-brougham was +waiting there, and she stepped into it. + +"I am surprised at Lady Tresham," she said, smiling. "I really don't +think that I am at all properly chaperoned. This comes, I suppose, from +having acquired a character for independence." + +Her gown seemed to fill the carriage--a little sea of frothy lace and +muslin. He hesitated on the pavement. + +"Shall I ride outside?" he suggested. "I don't want to crush you." + +She gathered up her skirt at once and made room for him. He directed the +driver and stepped in beside her. + +"I hope," she said, "that your cigarette restored your spirits. You are +not going to be as dull all the evening as you were at dinner, are you?" + +He sighed a little wistfully. "I'd like to talk to you," he said simply, +"but somehow to-night... you know it was much easier when you were a +journalist from the 'Hour'." + +"Well, that is what I am now," she said, laughing. "Only I can't get +away from all my old friends at once. The day after to-morrow I shall be +back at work." + +"Do you mean it?" he asked incredulously. + +"Of course I do! You don't suppose I find this sort of thing +particularly amusing, do you? Hasn't it ever occurred to you that +there must be a terrible sameness about people who have been brought +up amongst exactly the same surroundings and taught to regard life from +exactly the same point of view?" + +"But you belong to them--you have their instincts." + +"I may belong to them in some ways, but you know that I am a revolted +daughter. Haven't I proved it? Haven't I gone out into the world, to +the horror of all my relatives, for the sole purpose of getting a firmer +grip of life? And yet, do you know, Mr. Trent, I believe that to-night +you have forgotten that. You have remembered my present character only, +and, in despair of interesting a fashionable young lady, you have not +talked to me at all, and I have been very dull." + +"It is quite true," he assented. "All around us they were talking of +things of which I knew nothing, and you were one of them." + +"How foolish! You could have talked to me about Fred and the road-making +in Africa and I should have been more interested than in anything they +could have said to me." + +They were passing a brilliantly-lit corner, and the light flashed upon +his strong, set face with its heavy eyebrows and firm lips. He leaned +back and laughed hoarsely. Was it her fancy, she wondered, or did he +seem not wholly at his ease. + +"Haven't I told you a good deal? I should have thought that Fred and I +between us had told you all about Africa that you would care to hear." + +She shook her head. What she said next sounded to him, in a certain +sense, enigmatic. + +"There is a good deal left for you to tell me," she said. "Some day I +shall hope to know everything." + +He met her gaze without flinching. + +"Some day," he said, "I hope you will." + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + + +The carriage drew up at the theatre and he handed her out--a little +awkwardly perhaps, but without absolute clumsiness. They found all the +rest of the party already in their seats and the curtain about to go up. +They took the two end stalls, Trent on the outside. One chair only, next +to him, remained unoccupied. + +"You people haven't hurried," Lady Tresham remarked, leaning forward. + +"We are in time at any rate," Ernestine answered, letting her cloak fall +upon the back of the stall. + +The curtain was rung up and the play began. It was a modern society +drama, full of all the most up-to-date fashionable jargon and topical +illusions. Trent grew more and more bewildered at every moment. +Suddenly, towards the end of the first act, a fine dramatic situation +leaped out like a tongue of fire. The interest of the whole audience, up +to then only mildly amused, became suddenly intense. Trent sat forward +in his seat. Ernestine ceased to fan herself. The man and the woman +stood face to face--the light badinage which had been passing between +them suddenly ended--the man, with his sin stripped bare, mercilessly +exposed, the woman, his accuser, passionately eloquent, pouring out her +scorn upon a mute victim. The audience knew what the woman in the play +did not know, that it was for love of her that the man had sinned, to +save her from a terrible danger which had hovered very near her life. +The curtain fell, the woman leaving the room with a final taunt flung +over her shoulder, the man seated at a table looking steadfastly into +the fire with fixed, unseeing eyes. The audience drew a little breath +and then applauded; the orchestra struck up and a buzz of conversation +began. + +It was then that Ernestine first noticed how absorbed the man at her +side had become. His hands were gripping the arms of the stall, his eyes +were fixed upon the spot somewhere behind the curtain where this sudden +little drama had been played out, as though indeed they could pierce the +heavy upholstery and see beyond into the room where the very air seemed +quivering still with the vehemence of the woman's outpoured scorn. +Ernestine spoke to him at last, the sound of her voice brought him back +with a start to the present. + +"You like it?" + +"The latter part," he answered. "What a sudden change! At first I +thought it rubbish, afterwards it was wonderful!" + +"Hubert is a fine actor," she remarked, fanning herself. "It was his +first opportunity in the play, and he certainly took advantage of it." + +He turned deliberately round in his seat towards her, and she was struck +with the forceful eagerness of his dark, set face. + +"The man," he whispered hoarsely, "sinned for the love of the woman. +Was he right? Would a woman forgive a man who deceived her for her own +sake--when she knew?" + +Ernestine held up her programme and studied it deeply. + +"I cannot tell," she said, "it depends." + +Trent drew a little breath and turned away. A quiet voice from his other +side whispered in his ear--"The woman would forgive if she cared for the +man." + + * * * * * + +Trent turned sharply and the light died out of his voice. Surely it +was an evil omen, this man's coming; for it was Captain Francis who +had taken the vacant seat and who was watching his astonishment with a +somewhat saturnine smile. + +"Rather a stupid play, isn't it? By the by, Trent, I wish you would ask +Miss Wendermott's permission to present me. I met her young cousin out +at Attra." + +Ernestine heard and leaned forward smiling. Trent did as he was asked, +with set teeth and an ill grace. From then, until the curtain went up +for the next act, he had only to sit still and listen. + +Afterwards the play scarcely fulfilled the promise of its commencement. +At the third act Trent had lost all interest in it. Suddenly an idea +occurred to him. He drew a card from his pocket and, scribbling a word +or two on it, passed it along to Lady Tresham. She leaned forward and +smiled approval upon him. + +"Delightful!" + +Trent reached for his hat and whispered in Ernestine's ear. + +"You are all coming to supper with me at the 'Milan,'" he said; "I am +going on now to see about it." + +She smiled upon him, evidently pleased. + +"What a charming idea! But do you mean all of us?" + +"Why not?" + +He found his carriage outside without much difficulty and drove quickly +round to the Milan Restaurant. The director looked doubtful. + +"A table for eighteen, sir! It is quite too late to arrange it, except +in a private room." + +"The ladies prefer the large room," Trent answered decidedly, "and you +must arrange it somehow. I'll give you carte blanche as to what you +serve, but it must be of the best." + +The man bowed. This must be a millionaire, for the restaurant was the +"Milan." + +"And the name, sir?" + +"Scarlett Trent--you may not know me, but Lady Tresham, Lord Colliston, +and the Earl of Howton are amongst my guests." + +The man saw no more difficulties. The name of Scarlett Trent was the +name which impressed him. The English aristocrat he had but little +respect for, but a millionaire was certainly next to the gods. + +"We must arrange the table crossways, sir, at the end of the room," he +said. "And about the flowers?" + +"The best, and as many as you can get," Trent answered shortly. "I have +a 100 pound note with me. I shall not grumble if I get little change out +of it, but I want value for the money." + +"You shall have it, sir!" the man answered significantly--and he kept +his word. + +Trent reached the theatre only as the people were streaming out. In the +lobby he came face to face with Ernestine and Francis. They were talking +together earnestly, but ceased directly they saw him. + +"I have been telling Captain Francis," Ernestine said, "of your +delightful invitation." + +"I hope that Captain Francis will join us," Trent said coldly. + +Francis stepped behind for a moment to light a cigarette. + +"I shall be delighted," he answered. + + * * * * * + +The supper party was one of those absolute and complete successes which +rarely fall to the lot of even the most carefully thought out of social +functions. Every one of Lady Tresham's guests had accepted the hurried +invitation, every one seemed in good spirits, and delighted at the +opportunity of unrestrained conversation after several hours at the +theatre. The supper itself, absolutely the best of its kind, from the +caviare and plovers' eggs to the marvellous ices, and served in one of +the handsomest rooms in London, was really beyond criticism. To Trent +it seemed almost like a dream, as he leaned back in his chair and +looked down at the little party--the women with their bare shoulders and +jewels, bathed in the soft glow of the rose-shaded electric lights, the +piles of beautiful pink and white flowers, the gleaming silver, and the +wine which frothed in their glasses. The music of the violins on the +balcony blended with the soft, gay voices of the women. Ernestine was by +his side, every one was good-humoured and enjoying his hospitality. +Only one face at the table was a reminder of the instability of his +fortunes--a face he had grown to hate during the last few hours with +a passionate, concentrated hatred. Yet the man was of the same race as +these people, his connections were known to many of them, he was making +new friends and reviving old ties every moment. During a brief lull in +the conversation his clear, soft voice suddenly reached Trent's ears. He +was telling a story. + +"Africa," he was saying, "is a country of surprises. Attra seems to be +a city of hopeless exile for all white people. Last time I was there I +used to notice every day a very old man making a pretence of working +in a kitchen garden attached to a little white mission-house--a Basle +Society depot. He always seemed to be leaning on his spade, always +gazing out seawards in the same intent, fascinated way. Some one told me +his history at last. He was an Englishman of good position who had got +into trouble in his younger days and served a term of years in prison. +When he came out, sooner than disgrace his family further, he published +a false account of his death and sailed under a disguised name for +Africa. There he has lived ever since, growing older and sinking lower, +often near fortune but always missing it, a slave to bad habits, weak +and dissolute if you like, but ever keeping up his voluntary sacrifice, +ever with that unconquerable longing for one last glimpse of his own +country and his own people. I saw him, not many months ago, still there, +still with his eyes turned seawards and with the same wistful droop of +the head. Somehow I can't help thinking that that old man was also a +hero." + +The tinkling of glasses and the sort murmuring of whispered conversation +had ceased during Francis' story. Every one was a little affected--the +soft throbbing of the violins upon the balcony was almost a relief. Then +there was a little murmur of sympathetic remarks--but amongst it all +Trent sat at the head of the table with white, set face but with red +fire before his eyes. This man had played him false. He dared not look +at Ernestine--only he knew that her eyes were wet with tears and that +her bosom was heaving. + +The spirits of men and women who sup are mercurial things, and it was a +gay leave-taking half an hour or so later in the little Moorish room +at the head of the staircase. But Ernestine left her host without even +appearing to see his outstretched hand, and he let her go without a +word. Only when Francis would have followed her Trent laid a heavy hand +upon his shoulder. + +"I must have a word with you, Francis," he said. + +"I will come back," he said. "I must see Miss Wendermott into her +carriage." + +But Trent's hand remained there, a grip of iron from which there was no +escaping. He said nothing, but Francis knew his man and had no idea of +making a scene. So he remained till the last had gone and a tall, black +servant had brought their coats from the cloak-room. + +"You will come with me please," Trent said, "I have a few words to say +to you." + +Francis shrugged his shoulders and obeyed. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + + +Scarcely a word passed between the two men until they found themselves +in the smoking-room of Trent's house. A servant noiselessly arranged +decanters and cigars upon the sideboard, and, in response to an +impatient movement of Trent's, withdrew. Francis lit a cigarette. Trent, +contrary to his custom, did not smoke. He walked to the door and softly +locked it. Then he returned and stood looking down at his companion. + +"Francis," he said, "you have been my enemy since the day I saw you +first in Bekwando village." + +"Scarcely that," Francis objected. "I have distrusted you since then if +you like." + +"Call it what you like," Trent answered. "Only to-night you have served +me a scurvy trick. You were a guest at my table and you gave me not the +slightest warning. On the contrary, this morning you offered me a week's +respite." + +"The story I told," Francis answered, "could have had no significance to +them." + +"I don't know whether you are trying to deceive me or not," Trent said, +"only if you do not know, let me tell you--Miss Wendermott is that old +man's daughter!" + +The man's start was real. There was no doubt about that. "And she knew?" + +"She knew that he had been in Africa, but she believed that he had +died there. What she believes at this moment I cannot tell. Your story +evidently moved her. She will probably try to find out from you the +truth." + +Francis nodded. + +"She has asked me to call upon her to-morrow." + +"Exactly. Now, forgive my troubling you with personal details, but +you've got to understand. I mean Miss Wendermott to be my wife." + +Francis sat up in his chair genuinely surprised. Something like a scowl +was on his dark, sallow face. + +"Your wife!" he exclaimed, "aren't you joking, Trent?" + +"I am not," Trent answered sharply. "From the moment I saw her that has +been my fixed intention. Every one thinks of me as simply a speculator +with the money fever in my veins. Perhaps that was true once. It isn't +now! I must be rich to give her the position she deserves. That's all I +care for money."' + +"I am very much interested," Francis said slowly, "to hear of your +intentions. Hasn't it occurred to you, however, that your behaviour +toward Miss Wendermott's father will take a great deal of explanation?" + +"If there is no interference," Trent said, "I can do it. There is +mystery on her part too, for I offered a large reward and news of him +through my solicitor, and she actually refused to reply. She has refused +any money accruing to her through her father, or to be brought into +contact with any one who could tell her about him." + +"The fact," Francis remarked drily, "is scarcely to her credit. Monty +may have been disreputable enough, I've no doubt he was; but his +going away and staying there all these years was a piece of noble +unselfishness." + +"Monty has been hardly used in some ways," Trent said. "I've done my +best by him, though." + +"That," Francis said coldly, "is a matter of opinion." + +"I know very well," Trent answered, "what yours is. You are welcome to +it. You can blackguard me all round London if you like in a week--but I +want a week's grace." + +"Why should I grant it you?" + +Trent shrugged his shoulders. + +"I won't threaten," he said, "and I won't offer to bribe you, but I've +got to have that week's grace. We're both men, Francis, who've been +accustomed to our own way, I think. I want to know on what terms you'll +grant it me." + +Francis knocked the ash off his cigarette and rose slowly to his feet. + +"You want to know," he repeated meditatively, "on what terms I'll hold +my tongue for a week. Well, here's my answer! On no terms at all!" + +"You don't mean that," Trent said quietly. + +"We shall see," Francis answered grimly. "I'll be frank with you, Trent. +When we came in here you called me your enemy. Well, in a sense you were +right. I distrusted and disliked you from the moment I first met you +in Bekwando village with poor old Monty for a partner, and read the +agreement you had drawn up and the clause about the death of either +making the survivor sole legatee. In a regular fever swamp Monty was +drinking poison like water--and you were watching. That may have seemed +all right to you. To me it was very much like murder. It was my mistrust +of you which made me send men after you both through the bush, and, +sure enough, they found poor Monty abandoned, left to die while you had +hastened off to claim your booty. After that I had adventures enough +of my own for a bit and I lost sight of you until I came across you and +your gang road-making, and I am bound to admit that you saved my life. +That's neither here nor there. I asked about Monty and you told me some +plausible tale. I went to the place you spoke of--to find him of course +spirited away. We have met again in England, Scarlett Trent, and I +have asked once more for Monty. Once more I am met with evasions. This +morning I granted you a week--now I take back my word. I am going to +make public what I know to-morrow morning." + +"Since this morning, then," Trent said, "your ill-will toward me has +increased." + +"Quite true," Francis answered. "We are playing with the cards upon +the table, so I will be frank with you. What you told me about your +intentions towards Miss Wendermott makes me determined to strike at +once!" + +"You yourself, I fancy," Trent said quietly, "admired her?" + +"More than any woman I have ever met," Francis answered promptly, "and I +consider your attitude towards her grossly presumptuous." + +Trent stood quite still for a moment--then he unlocked the door. + +"You had better go, Francis," he said quietly. "I have a defence +prepared but I will reserve it. And listen, when I locked that door it +was with a purpose. I had no mind to let you leave as you are leaving. +Never mind. You can go--only be quick." + +Francis paused upon the threshold. "You understand," he said +significantly. + +"I understand," Trent answered. + + * * * * * + +An hour passed, and Trent still remained in the chair before his +writing-table, his head upon his hand, his eyes fixed upon vacancy. +Afterwards he always thought of that hour as one of the bitterest of +his life. A strong and self-reliant man, he had all his life ignored +companionship, had been well content to live without friends, +self-contained and self-sufficient. To-night the spectre of a great +loneliness sat silently by his side! His heart was sore, his pride had +been bitterly touched, the desire and the whole fabric of his life was +in imminent and serious danger. + +The man who had left him was an enemy and a prejudiced man, but Trent +knew that he was honest. He was the first human being to whom he had +ever betrayed the solitary ambition of his life, and his scornful words +seemed still to bite the air. If--he was right! Why not? Trent looked +with keen, merciless eyes through his past, and saw never a thing there +to make him glad. He had started life a workman, with a few ambitions +all of a material nature--he had lived the life of a cold, scheming +money-getter, absolutely selfish, negatively moral, doing little evil +perhaps, but less good. There was nothing in his life to make him worthy +of a woman's love, most surely there was nothing which could ever make +it possible that such a woman as Ernestine Wendermott should ever +care for him. All the wealth of Africa could never make him anything +different from what he was. And yet, as he sat and realised this, he +knew that he was writing down his life a failure. For, beside his desire +for her, there were no other things he cared for in life. Already he was +weary of financial warfare--the City life had palled upon him. He looked +around the magnificent room in the mansion which his agents had bought +and furnished for him. He looked at the pile of letters waiting for him +upon his desk, little square envelopes many of them, but all telling the +same tale, all tributes to his great success, and the mockery of it all +smote hard upon the walls of his fortitude. Lower and lower his head +drooped until it was buried in his folded arms--and the hour which +followed he always reckoned the bitterest of his life. + + + +CHAPTER XL + + +A little earlier than usual next morning Trent was at his office in the +City, prepared for the worst, and in less than half an hour he found +himself face to face with one of those crises known to most great +financiers at some time or other during their lives. His credit was +not actually assailed, but it was suspended. The general public did not +understand the situation, even those who were in a measure behind the +scenes found it hard to believe that the attack upon the Bekwando Gold +and Land shares was purely a personal one. For it was Da Souza who had +fired the train, who had flung his large holding of shares upon the +market, and, finding them promptly taken up, had gone about with many +pious exclamations of thankfulness and sinister remarks. Many smaller +holders followed suit, and yet never for a moment did the market waver. +Gradually it leaked out that Scarlett Trent was the buyer, and public +interest leaped up at once. Would Trent be able to face settling-day +without putting his vast holdings upon the market? If so the bulls +were going to have the worst knock they had had for years--and +yet--and yet--the murmur went round from friend to friend--"Sell your +Bekwandos." + +At midday there came an urgent message from Trent's bankers, and as he +read it he cursed. It was short but eloquent. + +"DEAR SIR,--We notice that your account to-day stands 119,000 pounds +overdrawn, against which we hold as collateral security shares in +the Bekwando Land Company to the value of 150,000 pounds. As we have +received certain very disquieting information concerning the value of +these shares, we must ask you to adjust the account before closing hours +to-day, or we shall be compelled to place the shares upon the market. + +"Yours truly, + +"A. SINCLAIR, General Manager." + + +Trent tore the letter into atoms, but he never quailed. Telegraph and +telephone worked his will, he saw all callers, a cigar in his mouth and +flower in his buttonhole, perfectly at his ease, sanguine and confident. +A few minutes before closing time he strolled into the bank and no one +noticed a great bead of perspiration which stood out upon his forehead. +He made out a credit slip for 119,000 pounds, and, passing it across the +counter with a roll of notes and cheques, asked for his shares. + +They sent for the manager. Trent was ushered with much ceremony into his +private room. The manager was flushed and nervous. + +"I am afraid you must have misunderstood my note, Mr. Trent," he +stammered. But Trent, remembering all that he had gone through to raise +the money, stopped him short. + +"This is not a friendly call, Mr. Sinclair," he said, "but simply a +matter of business. I wish to clear my account with you to the last +halfpenny, and I will take my shares away with me. I have paid in the +amount I owe. Let one of your clerks make out the interest account." + +The manager rang the bell for the key of the security safe. He opened it +and took out the shares with fingers which trembled a good deal. + +"Did I understand you, Mr. Trent, that you desired to absolutely close +the account?" he asked. + +"Most decidedly," Trent answered. + +"We shall be very sorry to lose you." + +"The sorrow will be all on your side, then," Trent answered grimly. "You +have done your best to ruin me, you and that blackguard Da Souza, who +brought me here. If you had succeeded in lumping those shares upon the +market to-day or to-morrow, you know very well what the result would +have been. I don't know whose game you have been playing, but I can +guess!" + +"I can assure you, Mr. Trent," the manager declared in his suavest +and most professional manner, "that you are acting under a complete +misapprehension. I will admit that our notice was a little short. +Suppose we withdraw it altogether, eh? I am quite satisfied. We will put +back the shares in the safe and you shall keep your money." + +"No, I'm d--d if you do!" Trent answered bluntly. "You've had your money +and I'll have the shares. I don't leave this bank without them, and I'll +be shot if ever I enter it again." + +So Trent, with his back against the wall and not a friend to help him, +faced for twenty-four hours the most powerful bull syndicate which had +ever been formed against a single Company. Inquiries as to his right +of title had poured in upon him, and to all of them he had returned the +most absolute and final assurances. Yet he knew when closing-time came, +that he had exhausted every farthing he possessed in the world--it +seemed hopeless to imagine that he could survive another day. But with +the morning came a booming cable from Bekwando. There had been a great +find of gold before ever a shaft had been sunk; an expert, from whom as +yet nothing had been heard, wired an excited and wonderful report. Then +the men who had held on to their Bekwandos rustled their morning papers +and walked smiling to their offices. Prices leaped up. Trent's directors +ceased to worry him and wired invitations to luncheon at the West End. +The bulls were the sport of everybody. When closing-time came Trent had +made 100,000 pounds, and was looked upon everywhere as one of the rocks +of finance. + +Only then he began to realise what the strain had been to him. His hard, +impassive look had never altered, he had been seen everywhere in his +accustomed City haunts, his hat a little better brushed than usual, his +clothes a little more carefully put on, his buttonhole more obvious and +his laugh readier. No one guessed the agony through which he had passed, +no one knew that he had spent the night at a little inn twelve miles +away, to which he had walked after nine o'clock at night. He had not +a single confidant, even his cashier had no idea whence came the large +sums of money which he had paid away right and left. But when it was +all over he left the City, and, leaning back in the corner of his little +brougham, was driven away to Pont Street. Here he locked himself in his +room, took off his coat and threw himself upon a sofa with a big cigar +between his teeth. + +"If you let any one in to see me, Miles," he told the footman, "I'll +kick you out of the house." So, though the bell rang often, he remained +alone. But as he lay there with half-closed eyes living again through +the tortures of the last few hours, he heard a voice that startled him. +It was surely hers--already! He sprang up and opened the door. Ernestine +and Captain Francis were in the hall. + +He motioned them to follow him into the room. Ernestine was flushed +and her eyes were very bright. She threw up her veil and faced him +haughtily. "Where is he?" she asked. "I know everything. I insist upon +seeing him at once." + +"That," he said coolly, "will depend upon whether he is fit to see you!" + +He rang the bell. + +"Tell Miss Fullagher to step this way a moment," he ordered. + +"He is in this house, then," she cried. He took no notice. In a moment +a young woman dressed in the uniform of one of the principal hospitals +entered. + +"Miss Fullagher," he asked, "how is the patient?" + +"We've had a lot of trouble with him, sir," she said significantly. "He +was terrible all last night, and he's very weak this morning. Is this +the young lady, sir?" + +"This is the young lady who I told you would want to see him when you +thought it advisable." + +The nurse looked doubtful. "Sir Henry is upstairs, sir," she said. "I +had better ask his advice." + +Trent nodded and she withdrew. The three were left alone, Ernestine and +Francis remained apart as though by design. Trent was silent. + +She returned in a moment or two. + +"Sir Henry has not quite finished his examination, sir," she announced. +"The young lady can come up in half an hour." + +Again they were left alone. Then Trent crossed the room and stood +between them and the door. + +"Before you see your father, Miss Wendermott," he said, "I have an +explanation to make to you!" + + + +CHAPTER XLI + + +She looked at him calmly, but in her set, white face he seemed to read +already his sentence! + +"Do you think it worth while, Mr. Trent? There is so much, as you put +it, to be explained, that the task, even to a man of your versatility, +seems hopeless!" + +"I shall not trouble you long," he said. "At least one man's word should +be as good as another's--and you have listened to what my enemy"--he +motioned towards Francis--"has to say." + +Francis shrugged his shoulders. + +"I can assure you," he interrupted, "that I have no feeling of enmity +towards you in the slightest. My opinion you know. I have never troubled +to conceal it. But I deny that I am prejudiced by any personal feeling." + +Trent ignored his speech. + +"What I have to say to you," he continued addressing Ernestine, "I want +to say before you see your father. I won't take up your time. I won't +waste words. I take you back ten years to when I met him at Attra and we +became partners in a certain enterprise. Your father at that time was a +harmless wreck of a man who was fast killing himself with brandy. He +had some money, I had none. With it we bought the necessary outfit and +presents for my enterprise and started for Bekwando. The whole of the +work fell to my share, and with great trouble I succeeded in obtaining +the concessions we were working for. Your father spent all his time +drinking, and playing cards, when I would play with him. The agreement +as to the sharing of the profits was drawn up, it is true, by me, but at +that time he made no word of complaint. I had no relations, he described +himself as cut off wholly from his. It was here Francis first came +on the scene. He found your father half drunk, and when he read the +agreement it was plain what he thought. He thought that I was letting +your father kill himself that the whole thing might be mine. He has +probably told you so. I deny it. I did all I could to keep him sober! + +"On our homeward way your father was ill and our bearers deserted us. We +were pursued by the natives, who repented their concession, and I had +to fight them more than once, half a dozen strong, with your father +unconscious at my feet. It is true that I left him in the bush, but it +was at his bidding and I believed him dying. It was my only chance and +I took it. I escaped and reached Attra. Then, to raise money to reach +England, I had to borrow from a man named Da Souza, and afterwards, +in London, to start the Company, I had to make him my partner in the +profits of the concession. One day I quarrelled with him--it was just +at the time I met you--and then, for the first time, I heard of your +father's being alive. I went out to Africa to bring him back and Da +Souza followed me in abject fear, for as my partner he lost half if your +father's claim was good. I found your father infirm and only half sane. +I did all I could for him whilst I worked in the interior, and meant +to bring him back to England with me when I came, unfortunately he +recovered a little and suddenly seized upon the idea of visiting +England. He left before me and fell into the hands of Da Souza, who +had the best possible reasons in the world for keeping him in the +background. I rescued him from them in time to save him from death and +brought him to my own house, sent for doctors and nurses, and, when +he was fit for you to see, I should have sent for you. I did not, I'll +admit, make any public declaration of his existence, for the simple +reason that it would have crippled our Company, and there are the +interests of the shareholders to be considered, but I executed and +signed a deed of partnership days ago which makes him an equal sharer in +every penny I possess. Now this is the truth, Miss Wendermott, and if +it is not a story I am particularly proud of, I don't very well see what +else I could have done. It is my story and it is a true one. Will you +believe it or will you take his word against mine?" + +She would have spoken, but Francis held up his hand. + +"My story," he said coolly, "has been told behind your back. It is only +fair to repeat it to your face. I have told Miss Wendermott this--that I +met you first in the village of Bekwando with a concession in your hand +made out to you and her father jointly, with the curious proviso that in +the event of the death of one the other was his heir. I pointed out to +Miss Wendermott that you were in the prime of life and in magnificent +condition, while her father was already on the threshold of the grave +and drinking himself into a fever in a squalid hut in a village of +swamps. I told her that I suspected foul play, that I followed you both +and found her father left to the tender mercies of the savages, +deserted by you in the bush. I told her that many months afterwards he +disappeared, simultaneously with your arrival in the country, that a day +or two ago you swore to me you had no idea where he was. That has been +my story, Trent, let Miss Wendermott choose between them." + +"I am content," Trent cried fiercely. "Your story is true enough, but it +is cunningly linked together. You have done your worst. Choose!" + +For ever afterwards he was glad of that single look of reproach which +seemed to escape her unwittingly as her eyes met his. But she turned +away and his heart was like a stone. + +"You have deceived me, Mr. Trent. I am very sorry, and very +disappointed." + +"And you," he cried passionately, "are you yourself so blameless? Were +you altogether deceived by your relations, or had you never a suspicion +that your father might still be alive? You had my message through Mr. +Cuthbert; I met you day by day after you knew that I had been your +father's partner, and never once did you give yourself away! Were you +tarred with the same brush as those canting snobs who doomed a poor old +man to a living death? Doesn't it look like it? What am I to think of +you?" + +"Your judgment, Mr. Trent," she answered quietly, "is of no importance +to me! It does not interest me in any way. But I will tell you this. If +I did not disclose myself, it was because I distrusted you. I wanted to +know the truth, and I set myself to find it out." + +"Your friendship was a lie, then!" he cried, with flashing eyes. "To you +I was nothing but a suspected man to be spied upon and betrayed." + +She faltered and did not answer him. Outside the nurse was knocking at +the door. Trent waved them away with an imperious gesture. + +"Be off," he cried, "both of you! You can do your worst! I thank Heaven +that I am not of your class, whose men have flints for hearts and whose +women can lie like angels." + +They left him alone, and Trent, with a groan, plucked from his heart +the one strong, sweet hope which had changed his life so wonderfully. +Upstairs, Monty was sobbing, with his little girl's arms about him. + + + +CHAPTER XLII + + +With the darkness had come a wind from the sea, and the boy crept +outside in his flannels and planter's hat and threw himself down in a +cane chair with a little murmur of relief. Below him burned the white +lights of the town, a little noisier than usual to-night, for out in +the bay a steamer was lying-to, and there had been a few passengers and +cargo to land. The boy had had a hard day's work, or he would have been +in the town himself to watch for arrivals and wait for the mail. He +closed his eyes, half asleep, for the sun had been hot and the murmurs +of the sea below was almost like a lullaby. As he lay there a man's +voice from the path reached him. He sprang up, listening intently. It +must have been fancy--and yet! He leaned over the wooden balcony. The +figure of a man loomed out through the darkness, came nearer, became +distinct. Fred recognised him with a glad shout. + +"Trent!" he cried. "Scarlett Trent, by all that's amazing!" + +Trent held out his hand quickly. Somehow the glad young voice, quivering +with excitement, touched his heart in an unexpected and unusual manner. +It was pleasant to be welcomed like this--to feel that one person in the +world at least was glad of his coming. For Trent was a sorely stricken +man and the flavour of life had gone from him. Many a time he had looked +over the steamer's side during that long, lonely voyage and gazed almost +wishfully into the sea, in whose embrace was rest. It seemed to him +that he had been a gambler playing for great stakes, and the turn of the +wheel had gone against him. + +"Fred!" + +They stood with hands locked together, the boy breathless with surprise. +Then he saw that something was wrong. + +"What is it, Trent?" he asked quickly. "Have we gone smash after all, or +have you been ill?" + +Trent shook his head and smiled gravely. + +"Neither," he said. "The Company is booming, I believe. Civilised ways +didn't agree with me, I'm afraid. That's all! I've come back to have a +month or two's hard work--the best physic in the world." + +"I am delighted to see you," Fred said heartily. "Everything's going +A1 here, and they've built me this little bungalow, only got in it last +week--stunning, isn't it? But--just fancy your being here again so soon! +Are your traps coming up?" + +"I haven't many," Trent answered. "They're on the way. Have you got room +for me?" + +"Room for you!" the boy repeated scornfully. "Why, I'm all alone here. +It's the only thing against the place, being a bit lonely. Room for you! +I should think there is! Here, Dick! Dinner at once, and some wine!" + +Trent was taken to see his room, the boy talking all the time, and later +on dinner was served and the boy did the honours, chaffing and talking +lightly. But later on when they sat outside, smoking furiously to keep +off the mosquitoes and watching the fireflies dart in and out amongst +the trees, the boy was silent. Then he leaned over and laid his hand on +Trent's arm. + +"Tell me all about it--do," he begged. + +Trent was startled, touched, and suddenly filled with a desire for +sympathy such as he had never before in his life experienced. He +hesitated, but it was only for a moment. + +"I never thought to tell any one," he said slowly, "I think I'd like +to!" + +And he did. He told his whole story. He did not spare himself. He spoke +of the days of his earlier partnership with Monty, and he admitted the +apparent brutality of his treatment of him on more than one occasion. +He spoke of Ernestine too--of his strange fancy for the photograph +of Monty's little girl, a fancy which later on when he met her became +almost immediately the dominant passion of his life. Then he spoke of +the coming of Francis, of the awakening of Ernestine's suspicions, +and of that desperate moment when he risked everything on her faith in +him--and lost. There was little else to tell and afterwards there was +a silence. But presently the boy's hand fell upon his arm almost +caressingly and he leaned over through the darkness. + +"Women are such idiots," the boy declared, with all the vigour and +certainty of long experience. "If only Aunt Ernestine had known you half +as well as I do, she would have been quite content to have trusted you +and to have believed that what you did was for the best. But I say, +Trent, you ought to have waited for it. After she had seen her father +and talked with him she must have understood you better. I shall write +to her." + +But Trent shook his head. + +"No," he said sternly, "it is too late now. That moment taught me all I +wanted to know. It was her love I wanted, Fred, and--that--no use hoping +for that, or she would have trusted me. After all I was half a madman +ever to have expected it--a rough, coarse chap like me, with only a +smattering of polite ways! It was madness! Some day I shall get over it! +We'll chuck work for a bit, soon, Fred, and go for some lions. That'll +give us something to think about at any rate." + + + +But the lions which Trent might have shot lived in peace, for on the +morrow he was restless and ill, and within a week the deadly fever of +the place had him in its clutches. The boy nursed him and the German +doctor came up from Attra and, when he learnt who his patient was, took +up his quarters in the place. But for all his care and the boy's nursing +things went badly with Scarlett Trent. + +To him ended for a while all measure of days--time became one long +night, full of strange, tormenting flashes of thought, passing like red +fire before his burning eyes. Sometimes it was Monty crying to him from +the bush, sometimes the yelling of those savages at Bekwando seemed to +fill the air, sometimes Ernestine was there, listening to his passionate +pleading with cold, set face. In the dead of night he saw her and the +still silence was broken by his hoarse, passionate cries, which they +strove in vain to check. And when at last he lay white and still with +exhaustion, the doctor looked at the boy and softly shook his head. He +had very little hope. + +Trent grew worse. In those rare flashes of semi-consciousness which +sometimes come to the fever-stricken, he reckoned himself a dying man +and contemplated the end of all things without enthusiasm and without +regret. The one and only failure of his life had eaten like canker into +his heart. It was death he craved for in the hot, burning nights, and +death came and sat, a grisly shadow, at his pillow. The doctor and the +boy did their best, but it was not they who saved him. + +There came a night when he raved, and the sound of a woman's name rang +out from the open windows of the little bungalow, rang out through the +drawn mosquito netting amongst the palm-trees, across the surf-topped +sea to the great steamer which lay in the bay. Perhaps she heard +it--perhaps after all it was a fancy. Only, in the midst of his fever, +a hand as soft as velvet and as cool as the night sea-wind touched his +forehead, and a voice sounded in his ears so sweetly that the blood +burned no longer in his veins, so sweetly that he lay back upon his +pillow like a man under the influence of a strong narcotic and slept. +Then the doctor smiled and the boy sobbed. + +"I came," she said softly, "because it was the only atonement I could +make. I ought to have trusted you. Do you know, even my father told me +that." + +"I have made mistakes," he said, "and of course behaved badly to him." + +"Now that everything has been explained," she said, "I scarcely see what +else you could have done. At least you saved him from Da Souza when his +death would have made you a freer man. He is looking forward to seeing +you, you must make haste and get strong." + +"For his sake," he murmured. + +She leaned over and caressed him lightly. "For mine, dear." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Millionaire of Yesterday, by +E. Phillips Oppenheim + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY *** + +***** This file should be named 1878.txt or 1878.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/7/1878/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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