CHAPTER III
"Alone?" said Sir William, as he came into the room. "Thank Heaven! Haveyou had no one?"
"Aunt Anna," Lady Gore replied, in a tone which was comment on thestatement.
"Aunt Anna? What did she come again for?" said Sir William.
"I really don't know," Lady Gore said. "I think to-day it was to tell methat Rachel and I ought not to worship you as we do."
"I don't know what she means," said Sir William, standing from force ofhabit comfortably in front of the fireplace as though there were a firein the grate. "I should have thought it was Rachel and I who adoredyou."
"She would like that better," Lady Gore replied. "But, oh dear, what aweary woman she is!"
"She has tired you out," Sir William said. "It really is not a good planthat your door should be open to every bore who chooses to come and callupon you. One ought to be able to keep people of that sort, at any rate,out of one's house."
Lady Gore heaved a sigh.
"Well, it is rather difficult and invidious too," she said, "to try tokeep certain people out when one is not sure who is coming--and it israther dull not to see any one," with a little quiver of the lip whichSir William did not perceive. Then speaking more lightly, "It is a pitywe can't have some kind of automatic arrangement at our front doors,like the thing for testing sovereigns at the Mint, by which the heavy,tiresome people would be shot back into the street, and the light,amusing ones shot into the hall."
"I am quite agreeable," said Sir William, "as long as Aunt Anna is shotback into the street."
"Ah, how delightful it would be!" said Lady Gore longingly.
"And Miss Tarlton too, please," said Sir William.
"My dear William," Lady Gore said, "Miss Tarlton is quite harmless."
"Harmless?" repeated Sir William; "I don't know what you call harmless.The very thought of her fills me with impotent rage. A woman who talksof nothing but photography and bicycling, and goes about with herfingers pea-green and her legs in gaiters! It's an outrage on society. Iam thankful that Rachel has never gone in for any nonsense of thatsort--nor ever shall, while I can prevent it."
"My good friend," said Lady Gore, "you may not find that so easy."
"I will prevent it as long as she is under my roof," replied SirWilliam. "I suppose if she marries a husband with any fads of that sort,she will have to share them."
"But"--Lady Gore checked herself on the verge of saying, "I don't thinkhe has," as she suddenly realised what image was called up by themention of Rachel's possible husband--"but she might marry some one whohasn't," she ended lamely.
"Oh dear me, yes," said Sir William, "there is time enough for that; sheis very young after all."
"She is twenty-two," said Lady Gore. "Perhaps that is young in thesedays when women don't seem to marry until they are nearly thirty. But Idon't think it is a good plan to wait so long."
"I don't think it's a bad one," said Sir William; "they know their ownminds at any rate."
"They have known half a dozen of their own minds," said Lady Gore. "Ithink it is much better for a girl to marry before she knows that thereis an alternative to the mind she has got, such as it is."
Sir William smiled, but did not think it worth while to argue the point.It was not his province, but her mother's, to guide Rachel's career, andhe was content to remain in comfortable ignorance of the complicationsof the female heart of a younger generation. However, he was not allowedto remain in that detached attitude, for Lady Gore, with the subjectuppermost in her mind preoccupying her to the exclusion of everythingelse, could not help adding, "You often see Mr. Rendel at parties, whenyou and Rachel go out, I mean?"
"Rendel? Yes," said Gore indifferently. "Why?"
Lady Gore did not explain. "I like him," she said.
"Oh yes, so do I," said Gore, without enthusiasm. "I don't agree withhim, of course. I asked him one day what his Chief was about, and toldhim he ought to put the brake on."
"Did he seem pleased at that?" said Lady Gore, smiling.
"He will have to hear it, I'm afraid," said Gore, "whether it pleaseshim or not."
"I must say," said Lady Gore, "I can't help admiring Lord Stamfordham. Ido like a man who is strong, and this man is head and shoulders aboveother people."
"Head and shoulders above little people perhaps," said Sir William.
"Mr. Rendel says that when once one is caught up in Lord Stamfordham'strain, it is impossible not to follow him."
"Rendel!" said Sir William. "Oh, of course, if you're going to listen towhat Stamfordham's hangers-on say...."
"Oh, William, please!" said Lady Gore. "Don't say that sort of thingabout Mr. Rendel."
"Why?" said Sir William, amazed. "Why am I to speak of Rendel with batedbreath?"
"Because ... suppose--suppose he were to be your son-in-law some day?"
"Oh," said Sir William, staring at her, "is that what you are thinkingof?"
"Mind--mind you don't say it," cried Lady Gore.
"_I_ shan't say it, certainly," cried Sir William, still bewildered;"but has he said it? That's more to the point."
"He hasn't yet," she admitted.
"Well, he never struck me in that light, I must say," said Sir William."I always thought it was you he adored."
"_Cela n'empeche pas_," said Lady Gore, laughing.
"I daresay he would do very well," said Sir William, who, as he furtherconsidered the question, was by no means insensible to the advantages ofthe suggestion put before him; "it is only his politics that are againsthim."
"I am afraid," said Lady Gore, "that Rachel would always think herfather knew best."
"Afraid!" said Sir William, "what more would you have?"
"My dear William," said his wife, smiling at him, "she might think herhusband knew best, that is what some people do."
"Quite right," said Sir William, looking at her fondly, but believingwith entire conviction in the truth of what he was lightly saying.
At this moment the door opened and a footman came in.
"Young Mr. Anderson is downstairs, Sir William."
"Young Mr. Anderson?" said Sir William, looking at him with somesurprise.
"Yes, Sir William--Mr. Fred," the man replied, evidently somewhatdoubtful as to whether he was right in using the honorific.
"Fred Anderson back again!" said Sir William to his wife. "All right,James, I'll come directly." "I wonder if his rushing back to England sosoon," he said, as the door closed upon the servant, "means that thatboy has come to grief."
"Let us hope that it means the reverse," said his wife, "and that he hascome back to ask you to be chairman of his company--as you promised, doyou remember, when he went away?"
"So I did, yes, to be sure," said Sir William, laughing at therecollection. "Upon my word, that lad won't fail for want of assurance.We shall see what he has got to say." And he went out.
The Andersons had been small farmers on the Gore estate for somegenerations. Fred Anderson, the second son of the present farmer, ayouth of energy and enterprise, had determined to seek his fortunefurther afield. Mainly by the kind offices of the Gores, he had beenstarted in life as a mining engineer, and had, eighteen months beforehis present reappearance, been sent with some others to examine andreport on a large mine lately discovered on British territory near theEquator. The result of their investigations proved that it was actuallyand most unexpectedly a gold mine, promising untold treasure, but at thesame time, from its geographical situation, almost valueless, since itwas so far from any lines of communication as to make the working of itpractically impossible. The young, however, are sanguine; undaunted bydifficulties, Fred Anderson, in spite of the discouragement and droppingoff of his companions, remained full of faith in the future of the mine,and of something turning up which would make it possible to work it; infact, he had actually gone so far as to obtain for himself a grant ofthe mining rights from the British Government. It was for this purposethat, giving a brief outline of the situation, he had written to S
irWilliam some time before to ask him for the sum necessary to obtain theconcession. Sir William had advanced it to him. It was when, two yearsbefore, the boy of nineteen was leaving home for the first time that hehad half jestingly asked Sir William whether, if he and his companionsfound a gold mine and started a company to work it, he would be theirchairman, and Sir William, to whom it had seemed about as likely thatFred Anderson would become Prime Minister as succeed in such anundertaking, had given him his hand on the bargain.
"Well, my boy," said Sir William, and the very sound of his voice seemedto Fred Anderson to put him back two years--the two years that appearedto him to contain his life. "How is it you have hurried back to Englandso quickly?"
"I will tell you all about it, Sir William," said the boy. "I thought itbest to come over and get everything into shape myself."
"You seem to be embarking on very adventurous schemes," said SirWilliam, feeling as he looked at the boy's bright, open face, full ofalert intelligence, that it was not impossible that the schemes might becarried through.
"I think you will say so, sir, when you have heard what I have to tellyou," said Anderson, resolutely keeping down his excitement in a waythat boded well for his powers of self-control.
"I shall be much interested," said Sir William. "Now, what about thosemining rights? Do I understand that you are the proprietor of a mine onthe Equator, a thousand miles from anywhere?"
"Yes, and no," said Anderson. "At least, yes to the first question; noto the second."
"What," said Sir William, still speaking lightly, "has the mine comenearer since we first heard of it?"
"Yes, practically it has," said Anderson, looking Gore in the face.Then, unrolling the paper which he held in his hand and rolling it theother way that it might remain open, he laid it carefully out on thetable before Sir William. "I have brought you the map with all theindications on it, that you may see for yourself." Sir William adjustedan eyeglass and bent over the map, roused to more curiosity than heshowed.
"This," said the young man, pointing to a large tract in pink, "isBritish territory; that is Uganda; here is the Congo Free State. There,you see, are the Germans where the map is marked in orange. There isthe Equator, and _there_ is the mine. Look, marked in blue."
"That is a pretty God-forsaken place, I must say," remarked Sir William.
"One moment," said Fred. "That thin, dotted ink line running north andsouth from the top of Africa to the bottom is the Cape to Cairo Railway,of which the route has now been determined on, and this," with a ringingaccent of triumph, bringing his hand down on to the map, "is the placewhere the railway will pass within a few miles of us."
"What?" said Sir William, starting.
"Yes, there it is, quite close," Anderson answered. "When once it isthere, all our difficulties of transport are over."
Sir William recovered himself.
"Cape to Cairo!" he said. "You had better wait till you see the linemade, my boy."
"That won't be so very long, Sir William, I assure you," said the youngman. "This cross in ink marks where the line has got to from thenorthern end, and this one," pointing to another, "from the south, andthey have already got telegraph poles a good bit further."
"Before the two ends have joined hands," said Sir William, "anotherGovernment may be in which won't be so keen on that mad enterprise. Asif we hadn't railways enough on our hands already."
"Not many railways like this one," said the young man. "Did you see anarticle in the _Arbiter_ about it this morning? It is going to be themost tremendous thing that ever was done."
"Oh, of course, yes," said Sir William with an accent of scorn in histone. "Just the kind of thing that the _Arbiter_ would have a goodflare-up about. I have no doubt that the scheme is magnificent on paper.However, time will show," he added, with a kinder note in his voice. Heliked the boy and his faith in achieving the impossible.
"It will indeed," said Anderson. "Only, you see, we can't afford to waittill time shows--we must take it by the forelock now, I'm afraid."
"Then what do you propose to do next?" said Sir William.
"We are going to form a company," said the boy, his colour rising. "Weare going to have everything ready, and the moment the railway isfinished we are ready to work the mine, and our fortune is made."
"You are going to form a company?" said Sir William, incredulously.
"Yes," Anderson replied. "In a week we shall have the whole thing inshape, and I hope that when the mine and its possibilities are madepublic, we shan't have any difficulty in getting the shares taken up."
"Well, I am sure I hope you won't," said Sir William. "I'll take someshares in it if you can show me a reasonable prospect of its coming toanything. But I should like to hear something more about it first."
"You shall, of course," said Anderson, as he took up his map again. "Butit was not about taking shares I came to ask you, Sir William."
"What was it, then?" said Sir William.
"You said," the boy replied, with an embarrassed little laugh, lookinghim straight in the face, "that you would be the chairman of the firstcompany I floated."
"By Jove, so I did!" said Sir William. "Upon my word, it was rather arash promise to make."
"I don't think it was, I assure you," the boy said earnestly; "thisthing really is going to turn up trumps."
"Well, let's hope it is, for all concerned," said Sir William. "And whatare you going to call it?"
"Oh, we are going to call it," said Fred, "simply 'The Equator,Limited.'"
"The Equator! Upon my word! Why not the Universe?" said Sir William.
"That will come next," said the boy, with a happy laugh of sheerjubilation. "Then, Sir William, will you--you will be our chairman?"
"Oh yes," said Sir William. "A promise is a promise. But mind, I shallbe a very inefficient one. I don't suppose you could find any one whoknew less about that sort of thing than I do."
"Oh, that will be all right, Sir William," the boy said quickly. "Therewill be lots of people concerned who know all about it. Now that themine is going to be accessible, the right people will be more than readyto take it up. I just wanted to have you there as the nominal head toit, because you have always been so good to me, and you have brought meluck since the beginning."
"Nonsense!" said Sir William. "You'll have only yourself to thank, myboy, when you get on."
"Oh, I know better than that," said Anderson. Something very like tearscame into his eyes as he took the hand Sir William held out to him, andthen left the room as happy a youth of twenty-one as could be found inLondon that day.