A Millionaire of Yesterday

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  "And now," she said, rising, "you really must take me to Lady Tresham!They will think that I am lost."

  "Are you still at your rooms?" he asked.

  She nodded.

  "Yes, only I'm having them spring-cleaned for a few days. I am stayingat Tresham House."

  "May I come and see you there?"

  The man's quiet pertinacity kindled a sort of indignation in her. Thesudden weakness in her defences was unbearable.

  "I think not," she answered shortly. "You don't know Lady Tresham, andthey might not approve. Lady Tresham is rather old-fashioned."

  "Oh, Lady Tresham is all right," he answered. "I suppose I shall see youto-night if you are staying there. They have asked me to dinner!"

  She was taken aback and showed it. Again he had the advantage. He didnot tell her that on his return he had found scores of invitations frompeople he had never heard of before.

  "You are by way of going into society, then," she answered insolently.

  "I don't think I've made any particular efforts," he answered.

  "Money," she murmured, "is an everlasting force!"

  "The people of your world," he answered, with a flash of contempt, "arethe people who find it so."

  She was silent then, and Trent was far from being discouraged by hermomentary irritability. He was crossing the lawn now by her side,carrying himself well, with a new confidence in his air and bearingwhich she did not fail to take note of. The sunlight, the music, andthe pleasant air of excitement were all in his veins. He was full ofthe strong joy of living. And then, in the midst of it all, came a dull,crashing blow. It was as though all his castles in the air had cometoppling about his ears, the blue sky had turned to stony grey and thesweet waltz music had become a dirge. Always a keen watcher of men'sfaces, he had glanced for a second time at a gaunt, sallow man who worea loose check suit and a grey Homburg hat. The eyes of the two men met.Then the blood had turned to ice in Trent's veins and the ground hadheaved beneath his feet. It was the one terrible chance which Fate hadheld against him, and she had played the card.

  Considering the nature and suddenness of the blow which had fallen uponhim, Trent's recovery was marvellous. The two men had come face toface upon the short turf, involuntarily each had come to a standstill.Ernestine looked from one to the other a little bewildered.

  "I should like a word with you, Trent," Captain Francis said quietly.

  Trent nodded.

  "In five minutes," he said, "I will return here--on the other side ofthe band-stand, say."

  Francis nodded and stood aside. Trent and Ernestine continued theirprogress towards the stand.

  "Your friend," Ernestine remarked, "seemed to come upon you like amodern Banquo!"

  Trent, who did not understand the allusion, was for once discreet.

  "He is a man with whom I had dealings abroad," he said, "I did notexpect him to turn up here."

  "In West Africa?" she asked quickly.

  Trent smiled enigmatically.

  "There are many foreign countries besides Africa," he said, "and I'vebeen in most of them. This is box No. 13, then. I shall see you thisevening."

  She nodded, and Trent was free again. He did not make his way at onceto the band-stand. Instead he entered the small refreshment-room atthe base of the building and called for a glass of brandy. He drankit slowly, his eyes fixed upon the long row of bottles ranged uponthe shelf opposite to him, he himself carried back upon a long wave ofthoughts to a little West African station where the moist heat rosein fever mists and where an endless stream of men passed backward andforward to their tasks with wan, weary faces and slowly dragging limbs.What a cursed chance which had brought him once more face to face withthe one weak spot in his life, the one chapter which, had he the power,he would most willingly seal for ever! From outside came the ringing ofa bell, the hoarse shouting of many voices in the ring, through the opendoor a vision of fluttering waves of colour, lace parasols and picturehats, little trills of feminine laughter, the soft rustling of muslinsand silks. A few moments ago it had all seemed so delightful to him--andnow there lay a hideous blot upon the day.

  It seemed to him when he left the little bar that he had been there forhours, as a matter of fact barely five minutes had passed since he hadleft Ernestine. He stood for a moment on the edge of the walk, dazzledby the sunlight, then he stepped on to the grass and made his waythrough the throng. The air was full of soft, gay music, and the skirtsand flounces of the women brushed against him at every step. Laughterand excitement were the order of the day. Trent, with his suddenlypallid face and unseeing eyes, seemed a little out of place in such ascene of pleasure. Francis, who was smoking a cigar, looked up as heapproached and made room for him upon the seat.

  "I did not expect to see you in England quite so soon, Captain Francis,"Trent said.

  "I did not expect," Francis answered, "ever to be in England again. I amtold that my recovery was a miracle. I am also told that I owe my Lifeto you!"

  Trent shrugged his shoulders.

  "I would have done as much for any of my people," he said, "and youdon't owe me any thanks. To be frank with you, I hoped you'd die."

  "You could easily have made sure of it," Francis answered.

  "It wasn't my way," Trent answered shortly. "Now what do you want withme?"

  Francis turned towards him with a curious mixture of expressions in hisface.

  "Look here," he said, "I want to believe in you! You saved my life andI'm not over-anxious to do you a mischief. But you must tell me what youhave done with Vill--Monty."

  "Don't you know where he is?" Trent asked quickly.

  "I? Certainly not! How should I?"

  "Perhaps not," Trent said, "but here's the truth. When I got back toAttra Monty had disappeared--ran away to England, and as yet I've heardnever a word of him. I'd meant to do the square thing by him and bringhim back myself. Instead of that he gave us all the slip, but unlesshe's a lot different to what he was last time I saw him, he's not fit tobe about alone."

  "I heard that he had left," Francis said, "from Mr. Walsh."

  "He either came quite alone," Trent said, "in which case it is odd thatnothing has been heard of him, or Da Souza has got hold of him."

  "Oom Sam's brother?"

  Trent nodded.

  "And his interest?" Francis asked.

  "Well, he is a large shareholder in the Company," Trent said. "Of coursehe could upset us all if he liked. I should say that Da Souza would tryall he could to keep him in the background until he had disposed of hisshares."

  "And how does your stock hold?"

  "I don't know," Trent said. "I only landed yesterday. I'm pretty certainthough that there's no market for the whole of Da Souza's holding."

  "He has a large interest, then?"

  "A very large one," Trent answered drily.

  "I should like," Francis said, "to understand this matter properly. Asa matter of fact I suppose that Monty is entitled to half thepurchase-money you received for the Company."

  Trent assented.

  "It isn't that I grudge him that," he said, "although, with the otherfinancial enterprises I have gone into, I don't know how I should raisehalf a million of money to pay him off. But don't you see my sale of thecharter to the Company is itself, Monty being alive, an illegal act.The title will be wrong, and the whole affair might drift into Chancery,just when a vigorous policy is required to make the venture a success.If Monty were here and in his right mind, I think we could come toterms, but, when I saw him last at any rate, he was quite incapable, andhe might become a tool to anything. The Bears might get hold of him andruin us all. In short, it's a beastly mess!"

  Francis looked at him keenly.

  "What do you expect me to do?" he asked.

  "I have no right to expect anything," Trent said. "However, I saved yourlife and you may consider yourself therefore under some obligation tome. I will tell you then what I would have you do. In the first place,I know no m
ore where he is than you do. He may be in England or he maynot. I shall go to Da Souza, who probably knows. You can come with me ifyou like. I don't want to rob the man of a penny. He shall have all heis entitled to--only I do want to arrange terms with him quietly, andnot have the thing talked about. It's as much for the others' sake asmy own. The men who came into my Syndicate trusted me, and I don't wantthem left."

  Francis took a little silver case from his pocket, lit a cigarette, andsmoked for a moment or two thoughtfully.

  "It is possible," he said at last, "that you are an honest man. On theother hand you must admit that the balance of probability from my pointof view is on the other side. Let us travel backwards a little way--tomy first meeting with you. I witnessed the granting of this concessionto you by the King of Bekwando. According to its wording you werevirtually Monty's heir, and Monty was lying drunk, in a climate wherestrong waters and death walk hand-in-hand. You leave him in the bush,proclaim his death, and take sole possession. I find him alive, do thebest I can for him, and here the first act ends. Then what afterwards?I hear of you as an empire-maker and a millionaire. Nevertheless, Montywas alive and you knew he was alive, but when I reach Attra he has beenspirited away! I want to know where! You say you don't know. It may betrue, but it doesn't sound like it."

  Trent's under-lip was twitching, a sure sign of the tempest within, buthe kept himself under restraint and said never a word.

  Francis continued, "Now I do not wish to be your enemy, Scarlett Trent,or to do you an ill turn, but this is my word to you. Produce Montywithin a week and open reasonable negotiations for treating him fairly,and I will keep silent. But if you can't produce him at the end of thattime I must go to his relations and lay all these things before them."

  Trent rose slowly to his feet.

  "Give me your address," he said, "I will do what I can."

  Francis tore a leaf from his pocket-book and wrote a few words upon it.

  "That will find me at any time," he said. "One moment, Trent. When I sawyou first you were with--a lady."

  "Well!"

  "I have been away from England so long," Francis continued slowly, "thatmy memory has suffered. Yet that lady's face was somehow familiar. May Iask her name?"

  "Miss Ernestine Wendermott," Trent answered slowly.

  Francis threw away his cigarette and lit another.

  "Thank you," he said.