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, strippedto the shirt, labouring amongst them spade in hand. In a week thefishing boats were deserted, every one was working on the road. Thelabour was immense, but the wages were magnificent. Real progress wasmade and the boy's calculations were faultless. Trent used the cablefreely.
"Have dismissed Cathcart for incompetence--road started--progressmagnificent," he wired one week, and shortly afterwards a messagecame back--"Cathcart cables resigned--scheme impossible--sharesdropping--wire reply."
Trent clenched his fist, and his language made the boy, who had neverheard him violent, look up in surprise. Then he put on his coat andwalked out to the cable station.
"Cathcart lies. I dismissed him for cowardice and incompetence. Theroad is being made and I pledge my word that it will be finished in sixmonths. Let our friends sell no shares."
Then Trent went back and, hard as he had worked before, he surpassed itall now. Far and wide he sent ever with the same inquiry--for labour andstores. He spent money like water, but he spent from a bottomless purse.Day after day Kru boys, natives and Europeans down on their luck, camecreeping in. Far away across the rolling plain the straight belt offlint-laid road-bed stretched to the horizon, one gang in advancecutting turf, another beating in the small stones. The boy grew thin andbronzed, 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, beyondwhich lay the village of Bekwando.
Then began the period of the greatest anxiety, for Trent and the boy anda handful of the others knew what would have sent half of the nativesflying from their work if a whisper had got abroad. A few soldiers weredrafted down from the Fort, arms were given out to all those who couldbe trusted to use them and by night men watched by the great red fireswhich flared along the path of their labours. Trent and the boy took itby turns to watch, their revolvers loaded by their side, and their eyesever turned towards that dark line of forest whence came nothing but thesinging of night birds and the calling of wild animals. Yet Trent wouldhave no caution relaxed, the more they progressed, the more vigilant thewatch they kept. At last came signs of the men of Bekwando. In the smallhours of the morning a burning spear came hurtling through the darknessand fell with a hiss and a quiver in the ground, only a few feet fromwhere Trent and the boy lay. Trent stamped on it hastily and gave noalarm. But the boy stole round with a whispered warning to those whocould be trusted to fight.
Yet no attack came on that night or the next; on the third Trent and theboy 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'mperfectly certain that the beggars are skulking round the borders of theforest there. Before morning we shall hear from them."
"If they mean to fight," Trent said, "the sooner they come out thebetter. I'd send a messenger to the King only I'm afraid they'd killhim. Oom Sam won't come! I've sent for him twice."
The boy was looking backwards and forwards along the long line ofdisembowelled earth.
"Trent," he said suddenly, "you're a wonderful man. Honestly, this roadis a marvellous feat for untrained labour and with such rotten oddsand ends of machinery. I don't know what experience you'd had ofroad-making."
"None," Trent interjected.
"Then it's wonderful!"
Trent smiled upon the boy with such a smile as few people had ever seenupon his lips.
"There's a bit of credit to you, Davenant," he said. "I'd never havebeen 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. "Fancythe difference between this and life in a London office. It's beenmagnificent! I never dreamed what life was like before."
Trent looked thoughtfully into the red embers. "You had the mailto-day," the boy continued. "How were things in London?"
"Not so bad," Trent answered. "Cathcart has been doing all the harmhe can, but it hasn't made a lot of difference. My cables have beenpublished and our letters will be in print by now, and the photographsyou 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 afew at a time, and my brokers are buying most of them. Pound shares arenineteen shillings to-day. They'll be between three and four pounds, aweek 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 hisMajesty the King of Bekwando! We'll both go then, and you shall spend aweek 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, andthe Empire, and down the river, and to a match at Lord's, and to Henleyif 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 fornewspapers.
"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'tDavenant, is it?"
The boy shook his head.
"No, she's my mother's cousin really--only I call her Aunty, wealways got on so. She isn't really much older than me, her name isWendermott--Ernestine Wendermott. Ernestine's a pretty name, don't youthink?"
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 ofoutlying scrub, seeing in reality nothing, yet keenly anxious that thered light of the dancing flames should not fall upon his face. The boyleaned on his elbow and looked in the same direction. He was puzzled bya fugitive something which he had seen in Trent's face.
Afterwards Trent liked sometimes to think that it was the sound of hername which had saved them all. For, whereas his gaze had been idle atfirst, it became suddenly fixed and keen. He stooped down and whisperedsomething to the boy. The word was passed along the line of sleeping menand one by one they dropped back into the deep-cut trench. The red firedanced and crackled--only a few yards outside the flame-lit space camethe dark forms of men creeping through the rough grass like snakes.