Page 31 of When the Lion Feeds


  He heard their clerk’s voice, raised sharply, I sell C. R. C. Is, and then the confused mumble of voices as the trading started. Through the lounge door he saw the recorder chalk up the first sale. Thirty-seven shillings He drew hard on Ins cigar and lay back in his chair forcing himself to relax, ignoring the restless tapping of Duff Is fingers on the arm of the chair next to him. The recorder wiped out the figures and wrote again. Thirtysix shillings. Sean blew out cigar smoke in a long jet. It’s mavingI he whispered and Duff’s hand clenched on the arm of the chair, his knuckles paling from the pressure of his grip.

  Thirty-five. The elusive number at last. Sean heard Duff sigh next to him and his voice, Now! watch it go, laddie, now the banks will come on. Get ready, laddie, get ready now. Thirty-four and six, wrote the recorder. They must come in now, said Duff again. Get ready to get rich, laddie. Their clerk was coming back across the floor and into the lounge. He stopped in front of their chairs. I managed to sell them, Sir.

  Sean straightened up quickly. So soon? he asked. Yes, Sir, three big sales and I got rid of them all. I’m afraid the last was only at thirty-four and sixpence. Sean stared back at the board. The figure was still at thirty-four and sixpence.

  Duff, something’s going on here. Why haven’t the banks come in yet? We’ll force them to off-load. Duff’s voice was unnaturally hoarse.

  We’ll force the bastards. He pulled himself half out of his chair and snarled at the clerk.

  Sell another one hundred thousand at thirty shillings.

  The man’s face went slack with surprise. Hurry, man, do you hear me? What are you waiting for? The clerk backed away from Duff, then he turned and scurried out of the lounge. Duff, for God’s sake. Sean grabbed his arm. Have you gone madVWe’ll force them, I muttered Duff.

  They’ll have to seU. We haven’t got another hundred thousand shares.

  Sean jumped up. I’m going to stop him. He ran across the lounge but before he reached the door he saw the sale being chalked up on the board at thirty shfflings. He pushed his way across the crowded floor until he reached his clerk. Don’t sell any more, he whispered.

  The man looked surprised. I’ve sold them already, Sir. The whole hundred thousand? There was horrified disbelief in Sean’s voice. Yes, Sir, someone took the lot in one batch. Sean walked back across the floor in a daze. He sank into the chair beside Duff.

  They re sold already. He spoke as though he didn’t believe himself.

  We force them, we’ll force them to sell, muttered Duff again and Sean turned to him with alarm. Duff was sweating in little dewdrops across his forehead and his eyes were very bright. Duff, for God’s sake, Sean whispered to him, steady, man Sean knew that they were watched by everybody in the lounge. The watching faces seemed as large as those seen through a telescope and the buzz of their voices echoed strangely in his ears. Sean felt confused: everything seemed to be in slow motion like a bad dream. He looked through into the trading floor and saw the crude number thirty still chalked accusingly against C. R. C.

  Where were the banks? Why weren’t they selling? We’ll force them, we’ll force the bastards, Duff said again Sean tried to answer him but the words wouldn’t come. He looked back across the trading floor and now he knew it was a bad dream for Hradsky and Max were there, walking across the floor towards the members, lounge. Men were crowding around them and Hradsky was smiling and holding up his hands as if to fend off their questions. They came through into the lounge and Hradsky went to his chair by the-fireplace. He lowered himself into it with his shoulders sagging forward and his waistcoat wrinkled tightly around the full. bag of his body.

  He was still smiling and Sean thought that his smile was one of the most unnerving things he had ever seen. He watched it with flesh-crawling fascination and beside him Duff was just as stiR and stricken. Max spoke quickly to Hradsky and then he stood up and walked across to Sean and Duff. He stopped in front of them. The clerk informs us that you have contracted to sell to Mr Hradsky five hundred thousand shares in C.

  R. C. s at an average price of thirty-six shillings. Max’s lashes drooped sadly onto his cheeks. The total issue of C. R. C. s, as you know, is one million shares. During the last two days Mr Hradsky was able to purchase another seventy five thousand shares apart from the ones you sold to him. This makes his total holdings of C. R. C. s almost six hundred thousand shares. It seems therefore that you have sold shares that don’t exist. Mr Hradsky foresees that you will have some difficulty in fulfilling your contract. Sean and Duff went on staring at him. He turned to leave them and Duff blurted out. But the banks, why didn’t the banks sell? Max smiled a mournful little smile.

  The day he reached Port Natal Mr Hradsky transferred sufficient funds from his accounts there to liquidate his overdrafts in Johannesburg. He sent you that telegram and returned here immediately. We only arrived an hour ago. But, but, you lied to us. You tricked us! Max inclined his head. Mr Charleywood, I will not discuss honesty with a man who does not understand the meaning of the word. He went back to Hradsky’s side.

  Everyone in the lounge had heard him and while Duff and Sean went on sitting amongst the ruins of their fortune the struggle to buy C. R. C.

  shares started on the main floor. in five minutes the price was over ninety shillings and still climbing. When it reached one hundred shillings, Sean touched Duff’s arm. Let’s go. They stood up together and started for the door of the members lounge. As they passed Hradsky’s chair he spoke.

  Yes, Mr Charleywood, you can’t win all the time. It came out quite clearly with only a slight catch on the c’s - they were always difficult letters for Norman Hradsky.

  Duff stopped, he turned to face Hradsky, his mouth open as he struggled to find a reply. His lips moved, groping, groping for words, but there were none. His shoulders drooped, he shook his head and turned away.

  He stumbled once at the edge of the floor. Sean held his arm and guided him through the excited jabber of brokers.

  No one took any notice of the two of them. They were bumped and jostled before they were through the crush and out onto the pavement. Sean signalled Mbejane to bring the carriage. They climbed into it and Mbejane drove them up to Xanadu.

  They went through into the drawing-room. Get me a drink, please, Sean.

  Duff’s face was grey andcrumpi looking. Sean poured two tumblers half full of brandy and carried one across to Duff. Duff drank and then sat staring into the empty glass. I’m sorry, I lost my head. I thought we’d be able to buy those shares for dirt, when the banks started sellingIt doesn’t matter, Sean’s voice was tired. We were smashed before that happened. Christ! What a well-laid trap it was! we couldn’t have known. It was so damn cunning, we couldn’t have guessed, could we, Sean? Duff was trying to excuse himself.

  Sean kicked off his boots and loosened his collar. That night up at the mine dump, I would have staked my life Max wasn’t lying. He lay back in the chair and stirred his brandy with a circular movement of his hand, Christ, how they must have laughed to see us stampede into the pitfall! But we aren’t finished, Sean, we aren’t completely finished, are we? Duff was pleading with him, begging for a peg to hang his hope on. We’ll come out of this all right, you know we will, don’t you? We’ll save enough out of the wreckage to start again. We’ll build it all up again, won’t we, Sean? Sure, Sean laughed brutally. You can get a job down at the Bright Angels cleaning out the spittoons and I’ll get one at the Opera House playing the piano. aBut, but, there’ll be something left. A couple of thousand even.

  We could sell this house. Don’t dream, Duff, this house belongs to Hradsky.

  Everything belongs to him. Sean flicked the brandy that was left in his glass into his mouth and swallowed it. He stood up quickly and went across to the liquor cabinet. I’ll explain it to you. We owe Hradsky a hundred thousand shares that don’t exist. The only way we can deliver them is to buy them from him first and he can set his own price on them.

  We’re finished, Duff, do you know what that means? S
mashed! Broken! Sean poured brandy into his glass, slopping a little on the sideboard.

  Have another drink on Hradsky, it’s his brandy now. Sean swept his arm round the room, pointing at the rich furniture and heavy curtains. Take a last look at this lot.

  Tomorrow the Sheriff will be here to attach it; then through the due processes of the law it will he handed to its rightful owner, Mr Norman Hradsky. Sean started back towards his chair and then he stopped. The due processes of the law, he repeated softly. I wonder, it might just work. Duff sat up eagerly in his chair. You’ve got an idea? Sean nodded. Well, half an idea anyway. Listen, Duff, if I can save a couple of thousand out of this do you agree that we get out of here? Where to, where will we goVWe were facing north when we started. It’s as good a direction as any. They say tHere’s gold and ivory beyond the Limpopo for those who want it. But, why can’t we stay here? We could play the stock market. Duff looked uncertain, almost afraid. Damn it, Duff, we’re finished here. it’s a different story playing the market when you are paying the fiddler and calling the tune, but with a mere thousand or so we’d be among the dogs fighting for the scraps under Hradsky’s table. Let’s get out and start again. We’ll go north, hunt ivory and prospect for a new reef. We’ll take a couple of wagons and find another fortune. I bet you’ve forgotten how it feels to sit on a horse and handle a rifle, to have the wind in your face and not a whore or a stockbroker within five hundred miles. But it means leaving everything we’ve worked for Duff groaned. Sweet merciful heavens, man, are you blind or just plain stupid? Sean stormed at him. You don’t own anything, so how the hell can you leave something you haven’t got? I’m going down to see Hradsky and try to make a deal with him. Are you coming? Duff looked at him without seeing him, his lips were trembling and he was shaking his head. At last he was realizing the position they were in and the impact of it had dazed him. The higher you ride the further there is to fall. All right, said Sean. Wait for me here Hradsky’s suite was full of talking, laughing men. Sean recognized most of them as the courtiers who used to cluster round the throne on which he and Duff had sat.

  The King is dead, long live the King! They saw him standing in the doorway and the laughter and loud voices fizzled out. He saw Max take two quicksteps to the stinkwood desk in the corner, pull open the top drawer and drop his hand into it. He stood like that watching Sean.

  One by one the courtiers picked up their hats and canes and hurried out of the room. Some of them mumbled embarrassed greetings as they brushed passed Sean. Then there were only the three of them left: Sean standing quietly in the doorway, Max behind the desk with his hand on the pistol and Hradsky in the chair by the fireplace watching through yellow, half-hooded eyes. Aren’t you going to invite me in, Max? Sean asked and Max glanced quickly at Hradsky, saw his barely perceptible nod and looked back at Sean. Come in, please, Mr Courtney.

  Sean pushed the door shut behind him. You won’t need the gun, Max, the game is over. And the score is in our favour, is it not, Mr Courtney? Sean nodded. Yes, you’ve won. We are prepared to make over to you all the C. R. C. shares we hold. Max shook his head unhappily. I’m afraid it’s not quite as easy as that. You have undertaken to sell us a certain number of shares and we must insist upon delivery M full Just where do you suggest we get them? Sean asked. You could buy them on the Stock Exchange.

  NWFrom you? E Max shrugged but made no reply. So you are going to twist the knife, are you? “ You put it very poetically, Mr Courtney, agreed Max. Have you considered the consequences of forcing us into bankruptcy I will admidt freely that the consequences to you do not concern us. Sean smiled.

  That was not very nice, Max, but I was talking about it from your point of view. Sequestration orders, creditors meetings, you can rest assured that the liquidator appointed will be a member of the Volksmad or a relative of one. There will be court actions and counter actions, enforced -sale of the shares in the estate and costs to pay. A liquidator with any sense at all could string it out for three or four years, all the time drawing a hand some commission. Have you thought about that, Max? The narrowing of Max’s eyes showed that he hadn’t.

  He looked at Hradsky with a trace of helplessness in his face, and Sean took a little comfort from that look. Now what I suggest is this, you let us draw ten thousand, take our horses and personal belongings. We in exchange will give you the rest. Shares, bank accounts, property, everything. You cannot possibly get more out of it if you force us into bankruptcy. Hradsky gave Max a message in their private facial code and Max interpreted it to Sean. Would you mind waiting outside, please, while we discuss this offer of yours. I’ll go down and have a drink in the bar, said Sean. He pulled his watch from his waistcoat pocket and checked the time. Will twenty minutes be enough? Ample, thank you, Mr Courtney. Sean had his drink by himself although the bar was nowhere near empty. This was not an arrangement of his own choosing, but he was flying the fever flag of failure and so he had to take an isolation berth at one end of the bar while all the other ships steered wide of him. No one looked in his direction and the conversation that went on round him was carefully arranged so as to exclude him.

  While he waited out the twenty minutes he amused himself by imagining the reactions of these his friends if he were to ask them for a loan.

  This helped to take the sting out of their snubs but still he felt it rankling. He looked at his watch again. The twenty minutes were up.

  Sean walked back along the counter towards the door. Jock and Trevor Heyns saw him coming, they turned away abruptly and immediately became absorbed in staring at the bottle-lined shelves behind the bar counter.

  Sean stopped level with Jock and cleared his throat deferentially. Jock, could you spare a minute? Jock turned slowly. Ah, Sean. Yes, what is it? Duff and I are leaving the Rand. I have something for you, just something to remember us by. I know Duff would want you to have it too.

  Jock reddened with embarrassment. That’s not necessary, he said and started to turn back to his drink. Please, Jock. Oh all right, Jock’s voice was irritable. What is it? This, Sean said and stepped forward, moving his weight behind the fist. Jock’s Large and whisky-flushed nose was a target to dream about. It was not one of Sean’s best punches, he was out of training, but it was good enough to send jock in a spectacular back-somersault over the counter. Dreamily Sean picked up jock’s glass and emptied it over Trevor’s head. Next time you meet me smile and say “Hello”, he told Trevor. Until then, stay out of mischief. He went up the stairs to Hradsky’s suite in much better spirits. They were waiting for him.

  Give me the word, Max, Sean could even grin at him. Mr Hradsky has very generously How much? Sean cut him short. Mr Hradsky will allow you to take fifteen hundred and your personal effects. As part of the agreement you will give an undertaking not to embark on any business venture on the Witwatersrand for a period of three years. That will be too soon, said Sean. Make it two thousand and you’ve got a deal. The offer is not open to discussion.

  Sean could see they meant it. They didn’t have to bargain; it was a statement. All right, I accept. Mr Hradsky has sent for his lawyer to draw up the agreement. Would you mind waiting, Mr Courtney? Not at all, Max, you forget I am a gentleman of leisure now. Sean found Duff still sitting in the chair where he had left him in the drawing-room of Xanadu. The bottle clutched in his hand was empty and he was unconscious.

  He had spilt brandy down the front of his waistcoat and three of the buttons were undone. Huddled in the big chair, his body seemed to have shrunk and the curly hair hanging onto his forehead softened the gaunt lines of his face. Sean loosened his fingers from the neck of the bottle and Duff moved restlessly, muttering and twisting his head.

  Bedtime for small boys, said Sean. He lifted him out of the chair and hung him over one shoulder.

  Duff sicked up copiously. That’s the way, show Hradsky what you think of his bloody carpet, Sean encouraged him. Give him another one for luck, but not on my boots Duff did as he was bid and, chuckling, Sean carried
him up the stairs. At the top he stopped and with Duff still bundled over one shoulder tried to analyse his own feelings. Darrin it, he felt happy. It was ridiculous to feel so happy in the midst of disaster. He went on down the passage still wondering at himself and into Duff Is room. He dropped Duff on the bed and stripped his clothes off, then he rolled him under the blankets. He brought the enamel wash basin from the bathroom and placed it next to the bed. You may need this, sleep well. There’s a long ride ahead of us tomorrow. He stopped again at the top of the stairs and looked down their marble slope into the splendour of the lobby.

  He was leaving all of it and that was nothing to feel happy about. He laughed aloud. Perhaps it was because he had faced complete :annihilation and at the last instant had changed it into something less; by avoiding the worst he had made defeat into a victory. A pathetic little victory to be sure, but at least they were no worse off now than they had been when they had arrived on the Rand. Was that the reason? Sean thought about it and found that it wasn’t the whole truth.

  There was also a feeling of release. That was another part of it. To go on his way: north to a new land. He felt the tingle of anticipation. Not a whore or a stockbroker within five hundred miles he said aloud and grinned. He gave up trying to find words for his feeling. Emotion was so damned elusive: as soon as you cornered it, it changed its shape and the net of words which you had ready to throw over it was no longer suitable. He let it go free to range through his body, accepting and enjoying it. He ran down the stairs, out through the kitchens and into the stable yard.

  Mbejane! he shouted, where the hell are you The clatter of a stool overturning in the servants quarters and the door of one of the rooms burst open. Nkosi, what is it? The urgency of Sean’s voice had alarmed Mbejane.