Search      Hot    Newest Novel
HOME > Classical Novels > Young Lord Stranleigh > CHAPTER III—THE MISSION OF “THE WOMAN IN WHITE”
Font Size:【Large】【Middle】【Small】 Add Bookmark  
CHAPTER III—THE MISSION OF “THE WOMAN IN WHITE”
THE breakfast room of Lord Stranleigh’s town house was a most cheerful apartment, and the young man who entered sat down to a repast which was at once abundant and choice. The appointments could scarcely have been bettered; the spotless linen, the polished silver, the prismatic cut glass, and the dainty porcelain, formed a pleasant table picture, enhanced by the pile of luscious fruit, the little rolls of cool, golden butter, the crisp white crescents, the brown toast, while the aroma of celestial coffee from the silver urn over a small electric furnace was enough to spur the longing of a sybarite. It is perhaps to be regretted that truth compels record of the fact that the languid person who found himself confronted by delicacies in season and out was healthily hungry, for some of us grumble that to him that hath shall be given, which seems unfair, and there appears to be a human satisfaction in the fact that John D. Rockefeller, the richest man in the world, is compelled to breakfast on a diluted glass of milk. But regrettable or no, Lord Stranleigh of Wychwood was preparing to do full justice to the excellence of the meal when his man said to him, in a hushed, deferential whisper:

“Mr. Peter Mackeller has called, my lord, and insists on seeing you immediately. He says it is a matter of the utmost importance.”

“Oh, dim!” ejaculated his lordship, “how these conscientious, earnest people tire me. As if anything could be a matter of importance at this hour except breakfast! Well, I suppose there is no escape: show him in.”

He heaved a deep sigh, and murmured to himself:

“This is what comes of meddling with the city.” The stalwart young Mackeller entered, and his very presence seemed to put the refined room to shame, his grim force causing his surroundings to appear dilettante and needlessly expensive. He was even more than usually unkempt, as if he had been sitting up all night in the hold of the tramp steamer which had kidnapped him. A deep frown marked his brow, and heightened the expression of rude strength that radiated from his determined face.

“Ah, Mackeller, good morning,” drawled his lordship, looking at the young man over his shoulder. “I’m delighted to see you, and just in the nick of time, too. Won’t you sit down and breakfast with me!”

“Thank you,” said Mackeller, in tones as hard as the other’s were affected. “I breakfasted two hours and a half ago.”

“Did you really? Well, call it lunch, and draw up your chair.”

“No, I’ve not come to a banquet, but to a business conference.”

“I’m sorry for that. My head is not very clear on business matters at any hour of the day, but in the morning I am particularly stupid. Do try a peach; you’ll find them exceedingly good.”

“No, thanks.”

“Then have a cigarette?”

His lordship raised the heavy lid of a richly chased box of silver, displaying a quantity of the paper tubes, and pushed this toward his visitor.

“They are a blend that is made for me in Cairo, but perhaps you prefer Virginians?”

“I have no choice in the matter,” said Mackeller, selecting a cigarette.

The butler snapped aglow an electric lighter, and held it convenient for the young engineer’s use, who drew in his breath, and exhaled a whiff of aromatic smoke.

“Do sit down, Mackeller!”

“Thanks, no; I’m in a hurry. Time is of great value just now.”

“Although I am very stupid in the morning, as I told you, nevertheless the moment you came in I surmised you were in a hurry. For whom are you working, Mr. Mackeller?”

“Working? What do you mean?”

“Who is your employer, or are you on your own, as the vulgar say?”

“Why, my lord, I understood I was in your employ.”

“In that case why don’t you sit down when I tell you to?” asked his lordship with a slight laugh.

Peter Mackeller dropped into a chair with such suddenness that the laugh of his chief became more pronounced.

“You see, Peter, my boy, it is a rule of the world that the man who pays for the music calls the tune. You say it is to be a quick-step: I insist upon a minuet. How do you like those cigarettes?”

“They are excellent, my lord.”

“Not half bad, I think. You don’t mind my going on with breakfast, and I am sure you will excuse me if I fail to regard this table as a quick lunch counter. I think our sturdiness as a nation depends very largely on our slowness at meals.”

“Perhaps. Still, that slowness should not extend to every function of life,” replied Peter severely.

“You think not? Well, perhaps you are right, although I must confess that I do dislike to be hustled, as the saying is. My mind works slowly when it condescends to work at all, and my body rather accommodates itself to my mental condition. You appear to be under the impression that my affairs at the moment need the spur rather than the curb. Am I right in that conjecture?”

“Why, my lord, if ever there was a transaction where speed is the essence of the contract, as the lawyers say, it is the present condition of your gold property.”

“Why, I fail to see that, Mackeller. I buy a property for, say, thirty-five thousand pounds. I receive a check for sixty-five thousand from the estimable Mr. Schwartzbrod and his colleagues. I have therefore acquired what you state is a valuable property for nothing, and there is bestowed upon me a bonus of thirty thousand pounds in addition for taking it over. Whether or not any gold exists on the west coast of Africa, there certainly reposes thirty thousand golden sovereigns at my disposal in the bank; sovereigns which yesterday I did not possess, so I think I have concluded the deal very creditably for a sluggish-brained person like myself, and after such a profitable bit of mental exertion it seems to me I am entitled to a rest, but here you come, bristling with energy, and say ‘Let’s hurry.’ In Heaven’s name, why? I’ve finished the transaction.”

“Finished?” cried Mackeller. “Finished? Bless my soul, we’ve only just begun. Do you understand that the tramp steamer Rajah, with some hundred and fifty hired thieves aboard, is making as fast as steam can push her through the waters, for your property, with intent to loot the same? Do you comprehend that that steamer has been loaded by myself with the most modern surface-mining machinery, with dynamite, with provisions, with every facility for the speedy robbing of those gold fields, and that you have given that pirate Schwartzbrod a document acquitting him of all liability in the premises?”

“Yes, Peter, I suppose things are very much as you state them, but your tone implies that somehow I am to blame in the matter. I assure you that it is not my fault, but the fault of circumstances. Then why worry about a thing I am not in the least responsible for? You are not censuring me, I hope?”

“No, my lord, I have no right to censure you whatever happens.”

“Oh, don’t let any question of right suppress a just indignation, Mackeller. If you think I’m guilty of negligence, pray give expression to your feelings by the use of any combination of words that brings relief. Don’t mind me. I really very much admire the use of terse language, although I have been denied the gift of emphatic denunciation myself.”

“Don’t you intend to do anything, my lord?”

“Yes, I intend to enjoy my breakfast, and really, if you knew how tasty this coffee is, you would yield to my pleadings and indulge in at least one cup.”

“Don’t you propose to prosecute that scoundrel Schwartzbrod?”

“Prosecute? Bless my soul, what for?”

“For the trick he played on you and my father. He got that exculpating document from you under false pretenses.”

“Not at all, not at all. I made certain stipulations; he complied with them. I then gave him the exculpating document, as you call it, and there it ends. If I had been gifted with second sight, this vision would have revealed to me that the clever Schwartzbrod had caused the Rajah to sail with you a prisoner in her hold. But Schwartzbrod is not to blame because I possess no clairvoyant power, now is he?”

“You will do nothing, then?”

“My dear boy, there’s nothing to do.”

“Don’t you intend to stop these pirates from mining your gold, and getting it aboard the Rajah?”

“Certainly not: why should I?”

“Nor give information to the authorities?”

“Of course not. The authorities have more information now than they can use.”

“Then you will not even tell the police?”

“The police are a land force: they cannot take a rowboat and chase the Rajah, and if they could they wouldn’t catch her, so what’s the good of asking impossibilities from either Scotland Yard or the Foreign Office?”

“You have no intention, then, of interfering with this band of gold robbers?”

“Oh, no.”

“You’re going to take it lying down?”

“No, sitting up,” and with that his lordship pushed back his chair, threw his right leg over his left, selected a cigarette, and lit it.

“I should be glad, my lord, to head an expedition, fit up another ship, follow the Rajah, and force those claim-jumpers to abandon their raid on another man’s goods.”

“I don’t like force, Mackeller. I don’t mind possessing a giant’s strength, but we must remember we should not use it like a giant.”

Lord Stranleigh, a picture of contentment, leaned back in his chair, and blew rings of filmy cigarette smoke toward the ceiling. Peter Mae-keller, the gloom on whose face had grown darker and darker, watched the nonchalant young man opposite him with a curl of contempt on his lip, yet he realized that if his lordship could not be forced to move, he himself was helpless. At last he rose slowly to his feet, the first tardy movement he had made since he entered the breakfast room.

“Very good, my lord. Then you have no further need of me, and I beg you to accept my resignation.”

“I’m sorry,” drawled his lordship, “but before you quit my service, I should like to receive one well thought-out opinion from you.”

“What is your problem, my lord?”

“It is this, Mackeller. I consider the after-breakfast cigarette the most enticing smoke of the day. A man who has slept well, and breakfasted adequately seems just in tune to enjoy to the utmost these enchanting vaporous exhalations. I wish to know if you agree with me.”

“Oh, damnation!” cried Mackeller, bringing his huge fist down on the table, and setting the breakfast things a-jingling, and with this regrettable word and action, he strode toward the door. The butler was there as if to open it for him, but his lordship made a slight turning motion of his wrist, whereupon Ponderby instantly locked the door and put the key in his pocket, standing there as silent and imperturbable as if he had not just imprisoned a free-born British subject, which he certainly had no legal right to do. The enraged captive fruitlessly shook the door, then turned round, his face ablaze with anger. Neither his lordship nor the butler moved a muscle.

“Mr. Mackeller,” drawled his lordship, “you have been conversing most interestingly, I admit, on subjects that did not in the least concern you. Now, perhaps, you will resume your duty.”

“My duty? What is my duty?” demanded the engineer.

“Why, I hoped it would not be necessary to remind you of it. I sent you down to Southampton to look after my property; the Rajah, which I had hired, and the machinery, provisions, etcetera, which I had bought. Through your negligence, carelessness, laches, default, supineness, inattention, or whatever other quality it pleases you to attribute the circumstance, you allowed yourself to be hoodwinked like a schoolboy, trapped like a rat, tied like a helpless sack on a pack horse for an unstated number of miles, flung like a bundle into a pilot boat, and landed like a haddock on the beach. A man to whom all this happened must be well endowed with cheek to enter my house and berate me for indolence. So cease standing there like a graven image with your back to the door, and do not perambulate the room as you did a minute ago, like a tiger in his cage at the Zoo, but sit down here once more, light another cigarette, fling one leg over the other, and give me, slowly, so that I can understand it, a formal report of your Southampton mission, and the disaster which attended it. I shall be glad to receive and consider any excuse you may offer for your own utter incompetence, and you may begin by apologizing for dealing a deadly blow at my table, which is quite innocent, and for offending my ears by the expletive that preceded such action.”

Mackeller strode over to the chair again, and plumped down like the fall of a sledge-hammer.

“You’re right. I apologize, and ask you to pardon my tongue-play and fist-play.”

His lordship airily waved his hand.

“Granted,” he said. “I sometimes say ‘dim’ myself, if I may quote Sir W. S. Gilbert. Go on.”

“When I went aboard the Rajah, neither the captain nor any of the officers offered opposition to my resuming command of the loading. The stuff was on the wharf, and in less than three days it was all aboard, well stowed away. During this time I had seen nothing to rouse my suspicion that anything underhand was to be attempted. I had informed the captain that you were now the charterer of the steamer, and he received the intelligence with apparent indifference, saying something to the effect that it mattered nothing to him who his owners were so long as his money was safe. The last material taken aboard was a large quantity of canvas for making tents, and lucky for me it was that I placed this at the foot of the ladder up from the hold. The workers had all gone on deck, and I was taking a final look around, wondering whether anything had been forgotten. I then mounted the ladder, and was amazed to see old Schwartzbrod standing there, talking to a tall, dark man who was, I afterwards learned, the leader of the expedition. This man, without a word, planted his foot against my breast, and heaved me backward down into the hold. Immediately afterwards I was battened down, and in darkness. By the running about on the deck above me, I realized that the steamer was getting ready to cast off, and within an hour I heard the engines and screw at work.

“It was night, and we were thrashing seaward through the Channel when the covering of the hatchway was lifted, and the man who had imprisoned me came down the ladder alone, with a lantern in his hand, which struck me as rather brave in the circumstances, but then he was armed, and I was not, so after all I had little chance against him. He placed the lantern on the bales of canvas upon which I had fallen, and began, with seeming courtesy, by begging pardon for what he had done. Throughout he spoke very quietly, and impressed me as a determined and capable person. He said that if I gave him my word that I should speak to no one aboard, or attempt to hail any passing craft, should such come near us, he would allow me on deck, and would send me ashore when the pilot left the ship.

“‘And if I refuse to give my word?’ I asked. “’ In that case,’ he replied, ‘I shall supply you with food and water, and will carry you to the end of our voyage.’

“‘And where is that?’ I asked.

“‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I have nothing to do with the navigation of the ship. I believe we are making for some port in South America, but I couldn’t say for certain.’

“I realized that I could do nothing while in the hold, and although I knew perfectly well they were making for the West African coast, and not for South America, I would be equally helpless once I reached there. Besides, it was of vital importance that I should telegraph to you and my father. In fact, I was amazed that, having taken the risk of placing me in confinement as they had done, they should allow me to get on shore so soon, but I suppose the crafty old Schwartzbrod knew that if I remained missing long, there would be an outcry in the newspapers, so he reckoned it was safer to risk my being put ashore, as he estimated we could not possibly fit out another steamer and start in pursuit under a week at the very least, and with that start they could have the channel of the river blocked, a fort or two erected, and so bid us defiance when we did arrive.”

“But if they blocked the river,” interrupted his lordship, “they would shut themselves in, as well as shut us out.”

“Not necessarily,” continued the engineer. “I have reason to believe that before I reached Southampton, a number of floating mines were stowed away in the front part of the ship. These mines could be planted in the mouth of the river, and a chart kept, which, in the possession of the captain, would enable him to thread the channel in safety, while a navigator without this protection and guide would run a thousand chances of finding his ship blown up.”

“Why,” said his lordship with admiration, “our seven syndicaters are brave as the buccaneers of ancient times. They are certainly running considerable risk of penal servitude for life?”

“I am not sure that they are, my lord,” replied Mackeller. “You see, this property is situated in a native state. The concession was granted by the chief of the ruling tribe in that district. British law does not run in that locality, and I very much doubt if the steamer Rajah will ever again put into a British port. My notion is that they will load her up with ore, and make for some point, probably in the Portuguese possessions, where they will smelt the ore, sell the ingots, and in the shape of hard cash which cannot be earmarked, the product of your mine will reach the syndicate in London. Now, my lord, you spoke of negligence, culpability, and all that. There is the story, and if you can show me where I was negligent of your interests, all I can say is that my error was not intentional.”

“Well, you see, Mackeller, you were acquainted with old Schwartzbrod, and I wasn’t. I had not met him up to that time, and I knew nothing personally of the syndicate, whereas you did. I think you should have put some shrewd man on to watch the trains, and learn if any of these men had come to Southampton, or perhaps you should have given us the tip in London, and we could have had the immaculate seven shadowed. I expected to meet legal chicanery, but not bold swashbuckling of this sort.”

“Yes, it would have been better to set a watch, but although I knew the men, nothing in their conduct led me to suspect a trick like this. However, as I am no longer in your employ, you shall not suffer further from my incompetence.”

“I think, Maekeller, you ought to give me a week’s notice, you know.”

“Very well. This day week I quit.”

“I am not sure but I am entitled to a month. How much should I have to pay you if I dismissed you?”

“Six months’ salary, I believe, is the legal amount.”

“Well, then, why not give me half a year’s notice?”

“I suppose you are entitled to it, my lord.”

“Then that’s all right. Half a year from now we shake hands and bid each other a tearful farewell. Much may happen in twenty-six weeks, you know.”

“Not if you’re going to do nothing, Lord Stranleigh.”

“Maekeller, you may not be a thing of beauty, but you are a joy forever. Still, there is one characteristic which I do not like about you. Perhaps it is oversensitiveness on my part, but it sometimes seems to me that you think I am lacking in energy. I hope, however, I am mistaken.” His lordship paused and gazed with quaint anxiety at his visitor, who, however, made no response, whereupon his lordship sighed ever so slightly, and put on the look of patient resignation which becomes a misunderstood man.

“Silence gives consent, I think, and I may find it difficult to put your mind right on this subject. Let me give you an illustration, chosen from your own interesting profession of mining engineering. I am credibly informed that if a hole is drilled in a piece of hard rock, and a portion of dynamite inserted therein, the explosion which follows generally rends the rock in twain.” Again he paused, and again there was no reply. It was but too evident that the serious Mackeller considered himself being trifled with. Unabashed, his lordship proceeded:

“That is energy, if you like. Shall we name it Mackellerite—this form of energy? Now I shall tell you of a thing I have seen done on one of my own estates. A number of holes were bored in a large bowlder, and instead of dynamite, we drove in a number of wooden pins, and over those pins we placidly poured clear, cold water. After a time the rock gently parted. There was no dust, no smoke, no flame and fury and nerve-shattering detonation, yet the swelling pins had done exactly the same work that your stick of dynamite would have performed. Now, that also was energy, of the Stranleighite variety. I suppose it would be difficult to make the stick of dynamite understand the stick of wood, and vice versa. By the way, have you seen your father since you returned from Southampton!”

“Yes.”

“Did he tell you I possess a trim little oceangoing steam yacht at present lying in a British harbor!”

“No, he did not.”

“But I thought I made him aware of what I intended to do!”

“Apparently he understood you no better than I do; at least he told me he did not know what course you proposed to take.”

“I informed him that my yacht was fitted out with turbine engines, and could reel off, at a pinch, twenty-five knots an hour. Now, how far away is this bally gold property of yours!”

“About three thousand five hundred miles.”

“Very good. Toward this interesting spot the Rajah is plodding along at seven knots an hour, perhaps doing a little less, as her owners guarantee that speed. How long will it take her to reach the what-do-you-call-it river? There is no use of my attempting figures when I have an uncivil engineer in my employ.”

“About twenty-one days,” replied Mackeller.

“Very well. If my yacht goes only twice that speed, which she can accomplish in her sleep, we’d get there in half the time, wouldn’t we? I think that mathematical calculation is correct?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Then we’d be Johnnie-on-the-spot in about eleven days, wouldn’t we?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“The Rajah has now four days the start of us. Then don’t you see we can spend six more days over our porridge in the morning, and still reach our river before she does? Now don’t you begin to be ashamed of yourself, Mackeller? Why rush me over my frugal meal when we have such ample time to spare? I’d much rather spend the six days here in London than up some malarious alligator-filled river on the west coast of Africa.” Mackeller’s stern face brightened.

“Then you do intend to chase them, after all, my lord?”

“Chase them? Lord bless you, no. Why should I chase them? They are the good Schwartzbrod’s hired men. He’s paying their wages. Chase them? Of course not; but I’m going to pass them, and get up the river before they do.”

Mackeller sprang to his feet, his face ablaze with enthusiasm, his right fist nervously clenching and unclenching.

“Now, do sit down, Peter,” wailed his lordship. “Do not let us display unnecessary energy. I’ve told you two or three times I don’t like it.”

Peter sat down.

“What I was trying to do when you went off prematurely was to show you the folly of underestimating a fellow creature. You come storming in here, practically accusing me of doing nothing, whereas I am doing nothing because everything is done, and you, on the rampage, have arrived from a total and grotesque failure.”

“I apologized for that already, my lord.”

“So you did, Peter. I had forgotten. A man shouldn’t be asked to pay twice for the same horse and cart, should he? Ponderby,” he continued, turning to his impassive butler, “would you be so good as to go into my business office, and bring me my telegraph duplicate book.”

Then, turning to his visitor, he added:

“I am so methodical that I keep a copy of every telegram I send. I shall ask you to look through this book with the critical eye of an engineer, and you will learn that while you were raging up from Plymouth I was ordering by telegraph to be sent to my yacht the more important materials for the contest in which we may be involved. A man must make some move to protect his own property, you know.”

“Why, my lord, that’s just what I’ve been saying all along, but you gave me to understand you were going to do nothing.”

“I cannot account for such an idea arising in your mind. I think you must have jumped at conclusions, Mackeller. Still, as long as I can convince you that I am really a practical man, everything will be all right between us.”

The butler placed before Lord Stranleigh the book containing copies of the telegrams sent the day before, and his lordship handed it gracefully to Mackeller.

“Nothing like documentary evidence,” he said, “to convince a stubborn man. I think even you will admit that I have risen to the occasion.” Mackeller turned the leaves of the book, reading as he went along. His eyebrows came lower and lower over his gloomy eyes, and a faint smile moved the lips of his lordship as he sat there watching him. Finally, he snapped the book shut, and put it down with a slap on the table.

“Twenty-four dozens of champagne; fifty dozens of claret, burgundy, bock, Scotch whisky——”

“Oh, and Irish whisky, too,” interrupted his lordship eagerly. “I haven’t forgotten anything, you know. You see, I have some Irish blood in my veins, and I occasionally touch it up with a little of the national brew.”

“I don’t think your blood needs any stimulation,” said Mackeller dejectedly. “Here you have ordered tobacco by the hundredweight, pipes by the score, cigars and cigarettes by the thousand. I suppose you think there’s something funny in handing me these messages. Are you never in earnest, my lord?”

“Never more so than at the present moment, Mackeller. I am disappointed that you failed to detect genius in the commissariat.”

“Are you going to fight this band of ruffians, my lord, by popping champagne corks at them, or smothering them in tobacco smoke?”

“I have told you once or twice, Mackeller, that I don’t intend fighting any one at all, but if the band of ruffians should come to dine with me aboard the yacht, I’d like the hospitality shown them to do me credit.”

“Very well, your lordship,” said Peter with resignation. “You have reminded me that my time is not my own, but yours, so if it gives you any pleasure to befool me, don’t allow consideration for my feelings to retard you.”

“Ah, you got in a good left-hander on me there, Peter. That’s where you score. Now, the proper time having elapsed after a meal when a man should talk business, even if, like me, he does not understand it, he can at least pretend to be wise, no matter how foolish, he is in reality. What is the name of that river of yours again?”

“The Paramakaboo.”

“Thanks. Well, as I understood you, it reaches the sea by several channels. Is our property on the main stream?”

“The streams are all about the same size, so far as I was able to learn.”

“How far back from the coast are the mountains?”

“You can hardly call them mountains. They are reasonably high hills, and I estimate the distance to be from twenty-five to thirty miles. Our property is twelve miles up the river.”

“A steamer drawing the depth of the Rajah could get up there you think?”

“Oh, yes, and could lay alongside the rocks in front of the gold field without needing a wharf of any sort.”

“If I took the yacht up another channel, would she be out of sight of any one stationed on our property?”

“The delta is rather flat for a few miles back from the coast, but if you go upstream for fifteen miles or so, there are plenty of hills that would conceal even a line of battle-ship, but any one on your property could see her sailing up the stream while she was in low-lying country.”

“That doesn’t matter. I intend to get there before our friends do, so there will be no trouble on that score.”

“Don’t you intend to arm your yacht?”

“Oh, yes; I shall have on board a few sporting rifles, some shotguns, and plenty of ammunition. Is there any game back in the mountains?”

“I don’t know. How many riflemen do you propose to take with you?”

“I was thinking of inviting some of my younger gamekeepers; perhaps half a dozen.”

“But they can’t hold out against a hundred and fifty well-armed men, not to mention the sailors belonging to the Rajah.”

“My dear fellow, why is your mind always running on fighting? This is no Treasure Island cruise, with stockades, and one-legged John Silver, and that sort of thing. We are not qualifying for literary immortality, not being filibusters, but merely staid, respectable city persons going to look over a property we have purchased. If we are discovered and attacked, we will valorously fly, and as, at a pinch, I can get twenty-five knots an hour out of the boat, I think with the current of the stream in my favor we can reach the sea in case these misguided persons become obstreperous. You forget that as a city man I am an investor, not a speculator.”

“I don’t see how that course of action will save your gold from being stolen.”

“Don’t you? Well, you’ll have an inkling by and by. Now, I wish you to go back to Southampton. You negotiated for the charter of the Rajah, I believe.”

“Yes.”

“Who are her owners?”

“Messrs. Sparling & Bilge.”

“Very well. I’ll give you a blank check and ask you to return to Southampton. Discover, if you can, what is the reasonable value of the Rajah, then go to Sparling & Bilge and purchase the steamer. See that everything is done legally, and arrange the transfer to me.”

“Is there to be any limit in the price I am to pay, Lord Stranleigh?”

“Oh, yes, of course we must place a limit; say ten times the value of the ship. Make as good a bargain as you can. Part of the arrangement must be that Sparling & Bilge write a letter to the captain, telling him that they have sold the boat, that it belongs to me, and that they have transferred to me whatever contract they made with him, the officers and the crew; that I will be responsible hereafter for the pay of the same. Then find out what can be done toward changing the name of the steamer. I wish to paint out the word Rajah and substitute, out of compliment to you, the name Blue Peter. Blue Peter means the flag of that color with a white square which is run up to the masthead when the ship is about to sail, and I doubt not the Blue Peter was flying over Peter Mackeller as he lay in the hold. Please learn if we can change the name legally, and if we cannot, why, we’ll see what can be done when the ship is in our possession. I am not going to indulge in any amateur piracy, so I expect you to look sharply after the legal points of the transfer. Get the assistance of the best marine lawyer there is in Southampton. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes, my lord, and I will carry out your instructions to the letter. I think I see what you intend to do.”

“I am the most transparent of men, Mackeller. There’s no subtlety about me, so you can gain little credit by fathoming my plans. We will suppose that two days are required to put me in possession of the Rajah. Return then to London, pack your trunk, bid good-by to all your friends, and say nothing to them of what you have done, or what you intend to do, what you guess, or what you know, not even to your father, whom I have made president of the company, because I dislike unnecessary publicity, and desire to keep my name in the shade of that modest obscurity which has always enveloped it. Buy anything you think you may require for the voyage, and ship your dunnage to Plymouth, addressed, care of the yacht, The Woman in White. Then engage a berth in the sleeping car on the 9.50 Penzance express, Great Western Railway, first-class fare, and five shillings extra for your stateroom, and don’t forget to charge it to me. At the unholy hour of 6.49 in the morning, you will arrive at Redruth in Cornwall, where you can indulge in an early breakfast, which you seem to delight in. In the environs of that village you will find a little property which is owned by me, and on that bit of land is an abandoned copper mine with a smelting furnace. I think the smelting apparatus is in reasonably good order, but I doubt if any of the other appurtenances of the mine are of much value. Now, having gone into the mining business, I intend to work this property for all it’s worth, and I propose that you spend a day or two getting a suitable manager, rigging up windlasses, and that sort of thing, so that we will see whether there is more money in copper to-day than was the case when the mine was abandoned, years and years ago. I suppose that modern processes may enable us to extract more copper out of the ore than our fathers found possible. Anyhow, my idea is to get the blast furnace in working order once more, and by the time we return to England, we shall probably know whether there is any brass, in another sense of the word, in the mine. Do you think you comprehend that task as well as the buying of the——

“But why trouble with copper, Lord Stranleigh, when you have on your hands the most prolific gold mine, as I believe it to be, in the world?”

“You said it was in the other fellow’s hands, Mackeller.”

“Don’t you intend to stop that crew in some way from lifting the ore?”

“Oh, no, I shall not interfere with them in the least.”

“Then what are you going to West Africa for?”

“For the voyage. For the scenery. For the chance of big game in the back country. To drink some of that champagne I have ordered, and to smoke a few of those cigarettes which I sent aboard. I shall read all the latest books that I haven’t had time to peruse here in London. By the way, is the neighborhood of our mine a healthy locality?”

“I should say it was rather feverish along the coast, but up toward the hills I think it as healthy as Hampstead.”

“I shall induce a doctor friend of mine to come with us. I’m glad I thought of that. If you indulge in your predilection for coercion, giving free rein to your passion for fighting, a surgeon will be necessary for amputations, the dressing of wounds, and generally useful in attending to those exciting incidents that follow in the train of a conqueror like yourself, who believes in brute force rather than in alert brains.”

“Then I am to set this copper mine of yours in operation down in Cornwall?”

“Exactly. And leave a competent manager to engage the men, renew the machinery, and all that.”

“Is there to be any limit in the expenditure?”

“Limit? Of course there is to be a limit. Aren’t we always limiting expenditure? Isn’t my life spent in putting a check on the outgoings? Yes, you will instruct the new manager that this is merely a tentative experiment of mine, and that he is not to purchase machinery wholesale, nor engage many miners, but merely to test the capabilities of the copper vein, and smelt as much of the ore as he can until you return.”

“Of course it’s no business of mine, my lord, but it strikes me that this is an unnecessary and losing venture. The copper industry of Cornwall has been steadily decreasing in value, and I doubt if there are half as many copper mines in operation as there were ten years ago.”

“Oh, Peter, Peter, how little of the foresight of your saintly namesake do you possess! Does not your imagination see the little harbor of Portreath, which means the sandy cove? Of course it doesn’t, for you are probably ignorant that such a port exists. Our smelter is situated near this marine haven of rest. Stir up your fancy, my boy, and see in your mind’s eye the steamer Rajah, loaded with ore, but renamed the Blue Peter, floating majestically into Portreath. What more natural than that the grasping Stranleigh should own another copper mine where there is no smelter, and that this ship brings copper ore to our Cornwall furnace? The Blue Peter shall probably first put into Plymouth, where she is less likely to be recognized by seafaring folk than would be the case at Southampton. We will there discharge the crew, giving every man double pay. We will compensate the captain and his officers, sending everybody away happy. Then we will engage another captain and another crew, who know nothing of where the steamer has come from, and thus we sail round Land’s End, and put in to little Portreath.”

“You propose, then, to capture the Rajah on the high seas, following it with your much more speedy yacht?”

“Oh, no, not capture. I’m going to take possession, that’s all. The Rajah is mine as incontestably as the yacht is. The ore with which she will be loaded is also mine. Everything shall be done as legally as if we were transacting our affairs in the Temple or Gray’s Inn. Doesn’t that put to shame your wild Scottish Highland ideas of fighting and slaughter? You ought to wear kilts and a dirk, Mackeller, but my instrument is a quill pen and nice red stamps embossed at Somerset House.”

“And who will pay the men who are blasting out the ore on the banks of the river Paramakaboo?”

“Why, really, Mackeller, that is no affair of mine. These industrious people are employed by the saintly Schwartzbrod. If that astute financier elects to engage a large body of labor to get out my ore for me, then I think you will admit, Mackeller, much as you are prejudiced against him, that he is really the philanthropic benefactor of his race I have always said he was.”

“But—but—but,” stammered Mackeller, “when they discover how they have been befooled, there will be a riot.”

“I don’t see that. When I discharge the captain and crew at Plymouth, I shall have cut the live wire, if I may use an expression from your absorbing profession. The connecting cable between those deluded miners in West Africa and the amiable syndicate in London, will be severed. The captain knows nothing, I take it, of Schwartzbrod. He was employed by Sparling & Bilge. Going ashore at Plymouth, out of a job, he would probably look for a ship in that port, and failing to find one, might journey to his old employers at Southampton. But, although I discharge the captain, I don’t intend to turn him adrift. I have already set influences at work which will secure for him a better boat than the Rajah, and the contented man will sail away from Plymouth, from London, or from some northern port, as the case may be. It is not likely that captain, officers, or crew know the nature of the ore they will be carrying, but I don’t intend to leave the wire partially cut. I shall provide places on various ships for officers and crew, and scatter them over the face of the earth, casting my breadwinners on the waters, as one may say, hoping they will not return for many days.”

“But when Schwartzbrod hears nothing of the Rajah at whatever foreign port he ordered her to sail, he will make inquiries of Sparling & Bilge.”

“I very much doubt that.”

“Why?”

“Because he has chartered their ship, and must either produce the steamer or renew the charter. That reminds me, for how long a period was the Rajah engaged?”

“For three months with option of renewal.”

“Good. Toward the end of that time old Schwartzbrod will write to Sparling & Bilge extending the charter for another three months. He dare not go to see these shipping men because he has mislaid their steamship, and does not wish to answer embarrassing questions regarding her whereabouts.”

“Yes, but Sparling & Bilge will merely reply that they have sold the Rajah to Lord Stran-leigh, and beg to refer Schwartzbrod to the new owner.”

“Bravo, Peter. You are actually beginning to get an inkling of Mr. Schwartzbrod’s dilemma. I had almost despaired of making this clear to you.”

“Still, I don’t understand the object of cutting the live wire, as you call it, if you leave another communicating wire intact. You take great pains to prevent captain or any of the crew meeting Schwartzbrod, yet you make it inevitable that Schwartzbrod will learn you are the owner of the Rajah. Perhaps you wish me to pledge Sparling & Bilge to secrecy?”

“Oh, dear no. I anticipate great pleasure in meeting Mr. Schwartzbrod. I picture him cringing and bowing and rubbing one hand over the other as he pleads for a renewal of the charter, and crawls away from all my inquiries regarding the whereabouts of the steamer. I will be back in London by the time the syndicate begins to get uneasy about the Rajah, and I shall renew the charter with the utmost cheerfulness, without insisting on learning where the Rajah is. But imagine the somewhat delicate position of a man compelled to negotiate with me for the hire of a boat to steal my own gold. The venerable Schwartzbrod will need to keep a close guard on his tongue or he will give himself away. It is a delicious dilemma. I hope you comprehend all the possibilities of the situation, but be that as it may, get you off to Southampton, and when you are done with the copper mine, report on board my yacht at Plymouth, where you will find me waiting for you. Then for the blue sea and red carnage if it is so written. Sixteen men on a dead man’s chest, yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of champagne, and all that sort of thing, Peter.”

All The Data From The Network AND User Upload, If Infringement, Please Contact Us To Delete! Contact Us
About Us | Terms of Use | Privacy Policy | Tag List | Recent Search  
©2010-2018 wenovel.com, All Rights Reserved