Daddy's Girl

  CHAPTER XXI.

  Ogilvie went straight to town. When he arrived at Victoria he took ahansom and drove to the house of the great doctor who had last seenSibyl. Sir Henry Powell was at home. Ogilvie sent in his card andwas admitted almost immediately into his presence. He asked a fewquestions, they were straight and to the point, and to the point didthe specialist reply. His last words were:

  "It is a question of time; but the end may come at any moment. Therenever was any hope from the beginning. From the first it was a matterof days and weeks, I did not know when I first saw your littledaughter that she could live even as long as she has done, but theinjury to the spine was low down, which doubtless accounts for thisfact."

  Ogilvie bowed, offered a fee, which Sir Henry refused, and left thehouse. Although he had just received the blow which he expected toreceive, he felt strangely quiet, his troublesome heart was nottroublesome any longer. There was no excitement whatever about him; hehad never felt so calm in all his life before. He knew well that, asfar as earthly success and earthly hope and earthly joy went, he wascoming to the end of the ways. He knew that he had strength for thetask which lay before him.

  He went to the nearest telegraph office and sent three telegrams toLord Grayleigh. He pre-paid the answers of each, sending one toGrayleigh's club, another to his house in town, and another toGrayleigh Manor. The contents of each were identical.

  "Wire immediately the next meeting of the directors of the Lombard Deeps."

  He gave as the address to which the reply was to be sent his own housein Belgrave Square.

  Having done this he paid a visit to his solicitor, Mr. Acland. Aclanddid not know that he had come back, and was unfeignedly glad to seehim, but when he observed the expression on his friend's face, hestarted and said:

  "My dear fellow, you don't look the better for your trip; I am sorryto see you so broken down."

  "I have a good deal to try me," said Ogilvie; "please do not discussmy looks. It does not matter whether I am ill or well. I have much todo and must do my work quickly. You have heard, of course, about thechild?"

  "Of her accident?" exclaimed Acland; "yes, her mother wrote to me sometime ago--she had a fall from her pony?"

  "She had."

  "Take a chair, won't you, Ogilvie?"

  Ogilvie dropped into one. Acland looked at him and then said, slowly:

  "I judged from Mrs. Ogilvie's note that there was nothing serious thematter. I hope I am not mistaken."

  "You are mistaken," replied Ogilvie; "but I cannot quite bear todiscuss this matter. Shall we enter at once on the real object of myvisit?"

  "Certainly," said Acland.

  A clerk entered the room. "Leave us," said Acland to the man, "and sayto any inquirers that I am particularly engaged. Now, Ogilvie," headded as the clerk withdrew, "I am quite at your service."

  "Thank you. There is a little business which has just come to my ears,and which I wish to arrange quickly. My wife tells me that she hasborrowed two thousand pounds from you in order to pay a deposit on theplace on the Thames called Silverbel."

  "Yes, the place where your wife is now staying."

  "Exactly."

  "I hope you approve of Silverbel, Ogilvie; it is really cheap at theprice; and, of course, everyone knows that you have returned a veryrich man. It would have been pleasanter for me had you been at homewhen the purchase was made, but Mrs. Ogilvie was insistent. She hadtaken a strong fancy to the place. There were several other lessexpensive country places in the market, but the only one which wouldplease her was Silverbel. I cabled to you, but got no reply. Your wifeimplored me to act, and I lent her the deposit. The purchase must becompleted at the end of October, in about a month from now. I hope youdon't blame me, Ogilvie?"

  "I don't blame you--I understand my wife. It would have been difficultto refuse her. Of course, had you done so matters might have been alittle easier for me now. As it is, I will pay you back the deposit. Ihave my cheque-book with me."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I should like to write a cheque for you now. I must get this matterput straight, and, Acland, you must find another purchaser."

  "Not really!" cried Mr. Acland. "The place is beautiful, and cheap atthe price, and you have come back a rich man."

  "On the contrary, I have returned to England practically a pauper."

  "No!" cried Mr. Acland; "but the report of the Lombard Deeps----"

  "Hush, you will know all soon. It is sufficient for you at present toreceive the news in all confidence that I am a ruined man. Not that itmatters. There will be a trifle for my wife--nothing else concerns me.May I fill in this cheque?"

  "You can do so, of course," replied Acland. "I shall receive the moneyin full sooner or later from the other purchaser, and then you canhave it back."

  "It would be a satisfaction to me, however, to pay you the deposit youlent my wife at once."

  "Very well."

  Ogilvie filled in a cheque for two thousand pounds.

  "You had better see Mrs. Ogilvie with regard to this," he said, as hestood up. "You transacted the business with her, and you must break toher what I have already done, but what I fear she fails to believe,that the purchase cannot possibly go on. It will not be in my power,Acland, to complete it, even if I should be alive at the time."

  "I know another man only too anxious to purchase," said Acland; "but Iam deeply sorry for you--your child so ill, your own mission toQueensland a failure."

  "Yes, quite a failure. I won't detain you any longer now. I may needyour services again presently."

  Ogilvie went from the lawyer's house straight to his own in BelgraveSquare. It was in the hands of a caretaker. A seedy-looking man in arusty black coat opened the door. He did not know Ogilvie.

  "I am the master," said Ogilvie; "let me in, please."

  The man stood aside.

  "Has a telegram come for me?"

  "Yes, sir, five minutes ago."

  Ogilvie tore it open, and read the contents.

  "Meeting of directors at one o'clock to-morrow, at Cannon Street Hotel. Not necessary for you to be present unless you wish. GRAYLEIGH."

  Ogilvie crushed up the telegram, and turned to the man.

  "I shall sleep here to-night," Ogilvie said, "and shall be back in thecourse of the evening."

  He then went to his bank. It was within half-an-hour of closing. Hesaw one of the managers who happened to be a friend of his. Themanager welcomed him back with effusion, and then made the usualremark about his changed appearance.

  Ogilvie put his troublesome questions aside.

  "I had an interview with you just before I went to Queensland," hesaid, "and I then placed, with a special note for your instructionsin case anything happened to me, a sum of money in the bank."

  "A large sum, Ogilvie--ten thousand pounds."

  "Yes, ten thousand pounds," repeated Ogilvie. "I want to withdraw themoney."

  "It is a considerable sum to withdraw at once, but as it is not ondeposit you can have it."

  "I thought it only fair to give you a few hours' notice. I shall callfor it to-morrow about ten o'clock."

  "Do you wish to take it in a cheque?"

  "I think not, I should prefer notes." Ogilvie added a few more words,and then went back to his own house.

  At last everything was in train. He uttered a sigh of relief. Thehouse looked gloomy and dismantled, but for that very reason it suitedhis feelings. Some of the furniture had been removed to Silverbel, andthe place was dusty. His study in particular looked forbidding, someashes from the last fire ever made there still remained in the grate.He wondered if anyone had ever entered the study since he last satthere and struggled with temptation and yielded to it.

  He went up to his own room, which had been hastily prepared for him,and looked around him in a forlorn way. He then quickly mountedanother flight of stairs, and found himself at last in the room wherehis little daughter used to sleep. The moment he entered this room hewas conscious
of a sensation of comfort. The worldliness of all therest of the house fell away in this sweet, simply furnished chamber.He sat down near the little empty bed, pressed his hand over his eyes,and gave himself up to thought.

  Nobody knew how long he sat there. The caretaker and his wife took nonotice. They were busy down in the kitchen. It mattered nothing at allto them whether Ogilvie were in the house or not. He breathed aconscious sigh of relief. He was glad to be alone, and the spirit ofhis little daughter seemed close to him. He had something hard to gothrough, and terrible agony would be his as he accomplished his task.He knew that he should have to walk through fire, and the fire wouldnot be brief nor quickly over. Step by step his wounded feet musttread. By no other road was there redemption. He did not shirk theinevitable. On the contrary, his mind was made up.

  "By no other road can I clasp her hand in the Eternity which liesbeyond this present life," he thought. "I deserve the pain and theshame, I deserve all. There are times when a man comes face to facewith God. It is fearful when his God is angry with him. My God isangry--the pains of hell take hold of me."

  He walked to the window and looked out. It is doubtful if he saw much.Suddenly beside the little empty bed he fell on his knees, buried hisface in his hands and a sob rose to his throat.

  * * * * *

  On the following day, shortly before one o'clock, the directors of theLombard Deeps Company assembled in one of the big rooms of the CannonStreet Hotel. Lord Grayleigh, the Chairman, had not yet arrived. Therest of the directors sat around a long, green baize table and talkedeagerly one to the other. They formed a notable gathering, includingmany of the astutest financiers in the city. As they sat and waitedfor Grayleigh to appear, they eagerly discussed the prospects of thenew venture. While they talked their spirits rose, and had any outsidespectator been present he would have guessed that they had alreadymade up their minds to an enormous success.

  Just on the stroke of one Grayleigh, carrying a roll of documents inhis hand, entered the room. There was a lull in the conversation as henodded to one and another of his acquaintances, went quickly up theroom and took his seat at the head of the table. Here he arranged hispapers and held a short consultation with the secretary, a tall man ofabout fifty years of age. There was a short pause and then LordGrayleigh rose to his feet.

  "Gentlemen," he began, "although, as you know, I have been and amstill chairman of several companies, I can say without hesitation thatnever have I presided at a meeting of the directors of any companybefore which had such brilliant prospects. It is my firm conviction,and I hope to impress you all with a similar feeling, that the LombardDeeps Mining Company has a great career before it."

  Expressions of satisfaction rose from one or two present.

  Lord Grayleigh proceeded: "This I can frankly say is largely due toour having secured the services of Mr. Philip Ogilvie as our assayer,but I regret to have to tell you all that, although he has returnedto England, he is not likely to be present to-day. A very seriousdomestic calamity which ought to claim your deepest sympathy is thecause of his absence, but his report in detail I shall now have thepleasure of submitting to you."

  Here Lord Grayleigh took up the document which had been signed byOgilvie and Rycroft at the Waharoo Hotel at Brisbane. He proceeded toread it aloud, emphasizing the words which spoke of the value of theveins of gold beneath the alluvial deposit.

  "This report," he said in conclusion, "is vouched for by thesignatures of my friend Ogilvie and also by James Rycroft, who isnearly as well known in Queensland as Ogilvie is in London."

  As detail after detail of the brilliantly worded document whichOgilvie and Rycroft had compounded with such skill, fell upon the earsof Lord Grayleigh's audience, satisfaction not unmixed with avaricelit up the eyes of many. Accustomed as most of these men were toassayers' reports, what they now listened to unfeignedly astonishedthem. There was a great silence in the room, and not the slightestword from Lord Grayleigh's clear voice was lost.

  When he had finished he laid the document on the table and was justabout, as he expressed it, to proceed to business when a movement atthe door caused all to turn their heads. Ogilvie had unexpectedlyentered the room.

  Cries of welcome greeted him and many hands were stretched out. Hecontented himself, however, with bowing slightly, and going up theroom handed Lord Grayleigh a packet.

  "Don't open it now," he said in a low voice, "it is for yourself, andcarries its own explanation with it."

  He then turned and faced the directors. There was something about hisdemeanor and an indescribable look on his face, which caused themurmurs of applause to die away and silence once more to fill theroom.

  Lord Grayleigh slipped the small packet into his pocket and also roseto his feet.

  Ogilvie's attitude and manner disturbed him. A sensation as though ofcoming calamity seemed to weigh the air. Lord Grayleigh was the firstto speak.

  "We are all glad to welcome you back, Ogilvie," he said. "In moresenses than one we are pleased that you are able to be present justnow. I have just been reading your report to these gentlemen. I hadfinished it when you entered the room."

  "It is an admirable and brilliant account of the mine, Mr. Ogilvie,"said a director from the far end of the table. "I congratulate you notonly on the good news it contains, but on the excellent manner inwhich you have put details together. The Lombard Deeps will be thebest thing in the market, and we shall not need for capital to workthe mine to the fullest extent."

  "Will you permit me to look at my report for a moment, LordGrayleigh?" said Ogilvie, in a grave tone.

  Grayleigh gave it to him. Ogilvie took it in his hand.

  "I have come here to-day," he said, "to speak for a moment"--his voicewas husky; he cleared his throat, and went on--"to perform a painfulbusiness, to set wrong right. I am prepared, gentlemen, for youropprobrium. You think well of me now, you will not do so long. I havecome here to speak to you of that----"

  "Sit down," said Grayleigh's voice behind him. "You must be mad.Remember yourself." He laid his hand on Ogilvie's arm. Ogilvie shookit off.

  "I can tell you, gentlemen, what I have come to say in a few words,"he continued. "This report which I drew up, and which I signed, is as_false as hell_."

  "False?" echoed a voice in the distance, a thin voice from aforeign-looking man. "Impossible!"

  "It is false," continued Ogilvie. "I wrote the report and I ought toknow. I spent three weeks at the Lombard Deeps Mine. There were norich veins of gold; there was a certain alluvial deposit, which for atime, a few months, might yield five ounces to the ton. I wrote thereport for a motive which no longer exists. God Himself smote me formy infamous work. Gentlemen, you can do with me exactly as you thinkfit, but this report, signed by me, shall never go before the world."

  As he said the last words he hastily tore away his own signature,crushed it in his hands and, crossing the room, threw it into a smallfire which was burning in the grate.

  This action was the signal for great excitement on the part of most ofthe directors. Others poured out floods of questions. Lord Grayleighalone remained quietly seated in his chair, but his face was white,and for the time he was scarcely conscious of what he was doing.

  "I have no excuse to offer," continued Ogilvie, "and I refuse toinculpate anyone with myself in this matter. This was my own concern;I thought out the report, I worded it, I signed it. Rycroft was moreor less my tool. In the moment of my so-called victory God smote me.You can do with me just as you please, but the Lombard Deeps Companymust collapse. I have nothing further to say."

  He left the room, dropping the now worthless document on to the tableas he did so. No one interrupted him or prevented his exit. As hisfootsteps died away on the stairs the discomfited and astonisheddirectors looked one at the other.

  "What is the meaning of it all?" said one, going up to Grayleigh;"you are chairman, and you ought to know."

  Grayleigh shook himself and stood up.

  "This must
be a brief madness," he said; "there is no other way toaccount for it. Ogilvie, of all men under the sun! Gentlemen, you knowhis character, you know what his name was worth as our engineer, butthere is one other thing you do not know. The poor fellow has a child,only one, to whom he is devoted. I heard this morning that the childis dying. Under such circumstances his mind may have been unhinged.Let me follow him. I will return after I have said a word to him."

  The chairman left the room, ran quickly downstairs and out into thestreet. Ogilvie had hailed a hansom and was getting into it.

  "One moment first," said Grayleigh.

  "What do you want?" asked Ogilvie.

  "An explanation."

  "I gave it upstairs."

  "You are mad--you are mad."

  "On the contrary, I believe that I am sane--sane at last. I grant youI was mad when I signed the report, but I am sane now."

  "What packet was that you gave me?"

  "Your money back."

  "The ten thousand pounds?"

  "Yes; I did not want it. I have delivered my soul, and nothing elsematters."

  "Tell me at least one thing. Is this strange action on your part owingto the child's accident?"

  "It is. I was going headlong down to hell, but God, through her, haspulled me up short. Gold is utterly valueless to me now. The child isdying, and I cannot part with her for all eternity. You can draw yourown conclusions."

  As Ogilvie spoke he shook Grayleigh's detaining hand from his arm. Thechairman of the Lombard Deeps Company stood still for a moment, thenreturned to the directors.

  As Grayleigh walked slowly upstairs he had a moment's conflict withhis own conscience. In one thing at least Ogilvie was generous. He hadnot dragged Lord Grayleigh to the earth in his own fall. The affair ofthe ten thousand pounds was known to no one else.

  "He fell, and I caused him to fall," thought Lord Grayleigh. "In themoment of his fall, if I were even half a man, I would stand by himand acknowledge my share in the matter. But no; where would be theuse? I cannot drag my children through the mire. Poor Ogilvie islosing his child, and for him practically life is over."

  Grayleigh re-entered the room where the directors waited for him.

  "I saw Ogilvie just now," he said, "and he sticks to his story. Ifear, too, that I was wrong in my conjecture with regard to hismadness. He must have had a temporary madness when he drew up andsigned the false report. I suppose we ought to consider ourselveslucky."

  "At least the widows and orphans won't be ruined," said one of thedirectors, a thin-faced anxious-looking man. "Well, of course, LordGrayleigh, we must all wash our hands of this."

  "We must do so advisedly," was Grayleigh's remark; "remember, we havegone far. Remember, the cablegram was not kept too secret, and theknowledge of the excellent report sent by Ogilvie has got to theears of one or two city editors. He must give out that there was amisunderstanding as to the value of the mine."

  "And what of Ogilvie himself?" said an angry-looking man. "Suchinfamous conduct requires stringent measures. Do you gentlemen sharemy views?"

  One or two did, but most protested against dragging Ogilvie's storytoo prominently into the light of day.

  "It may reflect on ourselves," said one or two. "It is just possiblethere may be some people who will not believe that he was alone inthis matter."

  Lord Grayleigh was the last to speak.

  "If I were you, gentlemen," he said, moodily, "I would leave Ogilvieto his God."