CHAPTER XII
Trent rose up with flashing eyes. Da Souza shrank back from hisoutstretched hands. The two men stood facing one another. Da Souza wasafraid, but the ugly look of determination remained upon his whiteface. Trent felt dimly that there was something which must be explainedbetween 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 throwaside the jackal.
"I give you thirty seconds," he said, "to clear out. If you haven't cometo your senses then, you'll be sorry for it."
"Thirty seconds is not long enough," Da Souza answered, "for me to tellyou why I decline to go. Better listen to me quietly, my friend. It willbe 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'tadvise you to play with your words!"
"This is no play at all," Da Souza remarked, with a sneer. "I ask you toremember, 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 hadmade money trading in Ashanti for palm-oil and mahogany. I had moneyto invest--and you needed it. You had land, a concession to workgold-mines, and build a road to the coast. It was speculative, but wedid business. I came with you to England. I found more money."
"You made your fortune," Trent said drily. "I had to have the money, andyou ground a share out of me which is worth a quarter of a million toyou!"
"Perhaps it is," Da Souza answered, "perhaps it is not. Perhaps itis worth nothing at all. Perhaps, instead of being a millionaire, youyourself 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 tosay, but you must control yourself."
The little black eyes were like the eyes of a snake. He was showing histeeth. He forgot to be afraid.
"You had a partner," he said. "The concession was made out to himtogether 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. "Heis old and weak. You were with him up at Bekwando where there are nowhite men--no one to watch you. You gave him brandy to drink--you watchthe fever come, and you write on the concession if one should die allgoes to the survivor. And you gave him brandy in the bush where thefever is, and--behold you return alone! When people know this they willsay, 'Oh yes, it is the way millionaires are made.'"
He stopped, out of breath, for the veins were standing out upon hisforehead, and he remembered what the English doctor at Cape Coast Castlehad told him. So he was silent for a moment, wiping the perspirationaway and struggling against the fear which was turning the blood to icein 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 isas 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 ofyelling niggers behind. We were lost, and I myself was nigh upon a deadman. Who would have cumbered himself with a corpse? Curse you and yourvile hints, you mongrel, you hanger-on, you scurrilous beast! Out, andspread 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 ideaof going. He stood in safety near the door, and as he leaned forward,speaking now in a hoarse whisper, he reminded Trent momentarily of oneof those hideous fetish gods in the sacred grove at Bekwando.
"Your partner was no corpse when you left him," he hissed out. "You werea fool and a bungler not to make sure of it. The natives from Bekwandofound 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. Theman was surely on the threshold of death when he had left him, and theage of miracles was past.
"You're talking like a fool, Da Souza. Do you mean to take me in with anold woman's story like that?"
"There's no old woman's story about what I've told you," Da Souzasnarled. "The man's alive and I can prove it a dozen times over. Youwere a fool and a bungler."
Trent thought of the night when he had crept back into the bush and hadfound no trace of Monty, and gradually there rose up before him a luridpossibility Da Souza's story was true. The very thought of it workedlike madness in his brains. When he spoke he strove hard to steady hisvoice, and even to himself it sounded like the voice of one speaking along way off.
"Supposing that this were true," he said, "what is he doing all thistime? 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 ofthe 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. "Ourinterests 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 eyeon him. Sometimes he gets restless, he talks, but what matter? He has nomoney. 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 hisface 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 withoutbeing 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--onlythe fear of his complete ignorance of the man had kept him silent allthese 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 foroccasional fits of passion in which he raves at you. What would peoplesay?--that you tried to kill him with brandy, that the clause in theconcession was a direct incentive for you to get rid of him, and youleft him in the bush only a few miles from Buckomari to be seized by thenatives. Besides, how can you pay him half? I know pretty well how youstand. On paper, beyond doubt you are a millionaire; but what if allclaims were suddenly presented against you to be paid in sovereigns?I tell you this, my friend, Mr. Scarlett Trent, and I am a man ofexperience and I know. To-day in the City it is true that you couldraise a million pounds in cash, but let me whisper a word, one littleword, and you would be hard pressed to raise a thousand. It is truethere is the Syndicate, that great scheme of yours yesterday from whichyou were so careful to exclude me--you are to get great monies fromthem in cash. Bah! don't you see that Monty's existence breaks up thatSyndicate--smashes it into tiny atoms, for you have sold what was notyours 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 wellthat he was face to face with a great crisis. Of all things this was themost fatal which could have happened to him. Monty alive! He rememberedthe 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 allday for a living, perhaps fishing with the natives or digging, a slavestill, without hope or understanding, with the end of his days well inview! Surely it were better to risk all things, to have him back at anycost? Then a thought more terrible yet than any rose up before him likea spectre, there was a sudden catch at his heart-strin
gs, he was coldwith 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? Wasit possible that he could ever escape the everlasting stigma ofcowardice--ay, and before him in great red letters he saw written inthe air that fatal clause in the agreement, to which she and all otherswould point with bitter scorn, indubitable, overwhelming evidenceagainst him. He gasped for breath and walked restlessly up and down theroom. Other thoughts came crowding in upon him. He was conscious of anew 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 wealthhad grown something of the financier's fever. He had become a power,solidly and steadfastly he had hewn his way into a little circle whosefascination had begun to tell in his blood. Was he to fall without astruggle 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 belooked upon with never-ending scorn by the woman whose picture for yearshad been a religion to him, and whose appearance only a few hours agohad been the most inspiring thing which had entered into his life?He looked across the lawn into the pine grove with steadfast eyes andknitted brows, and Da Souza watched him, ghastly and nervous. At leasthe must have time to decide!
"If you send for him," Da Souza said slowly, "you will be absolutelyruined. It will be a triumph for those whom you have made jealous,who have measured their wits with yours and gone under. Oh! but thenewspapers will enjoy it--that is very certain. Our latest millionaire,his rise and fall! Cannot you see it in the placards? And for what? Togive wealth to an old man long past the enjoyment of it--ay, imbecilealready! You will not be a madman, Trent?"
Trent winced perceptibly. Da Souza saw it and rejoiced. There wasanother 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 backyour 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 interruptedblandly.