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A Yellow God: An Idol of Africa. Генри Райдер ХаггардЧитать онлайн книгу.

A Yellow God: An Idol of Africa - Генри Райдер Хаггард


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moreover the unissued preferred shares had already been dealt in at a heavy premium. Now to say nothing of the allotment to which he was entitled upon his holding in the parent Syndicate, the proportion of cash due to him as a partner, would amount to quite a hundred thousand pounds. In other words, he, who had so many reasons for desiring money, would be wealthy. After working so hard and undergoing so much that he felt to be humiliating and even degrading, why should he not take his reward and clear out afterwards?

      This he remembered he could do, since probably by some oversight of Aylward’s, who left such matters to his lawyers, his deed of partnership did not bind him to a fixed term. It could be broken at any moment. To this argument there was only one possible answer, that of his conscience. If once he were convinced that things were not right, it would be dishonest to participate in their profits. And he was convinced. Mr. Jackson’s arguments and his damning document had thrown a flood of light upon many matters which he had suspected but never quite understood. He was the partner of, well, adventurers, and the money which he received would in fact be filched from the pockets of unsuspecting persons. He would vouch for that of which he was doubtful and receive the price of sharp practice. In other words he, Alan Vernon, who had never uttered a wilful untruth or taken a halfpenny that was not his own, would before the tribunal of his own mind, stand convicted as a liar and a thief. The thing was not to be borne. At whatever cost it must be ended. If he were fated to be a beggar, at least he would be an honest beggar.

      With a firm step and a high head he walked straight into Sir Robert’s room, without even going through the formality of knocking, to find Mr. Champers-Haswell seated at the ebony desk by his partner’s side examining some document through a reading-glass, which on his appearance, was folded over and presently thrust away into a drawer. It seemed, Alan noticed, to be of an unusual shape and written in some strange character.

      Mr. Haswell, a stout, jovial-looking, little man with a florid complexion and white hair, rose at once to greet him.

      “How do you do, Alan,” he said in a cheerful voice, for as a cousin by marriage he called him by his Christian name. “I am just this minute back from Paris, and you will be glad to learn that they are going to support us very well there; in fact I may say that the Government has taken up the scheme, of course under the rose. You know the French have possessions all along that coast and they won’t be sorry to find an opportunity of stretching out their hand a little further. Our difficulties as to capital are at an end, for a full third of it is guaranteed in Paris, and I expect that small investors and speculators for the rise will gobble a lot more. We shall plant £10,000,000 worth of Sahara scrip in sunny France, my boy, and foggy England has underwritten the rest. It will be a case of ‘letters of Allotment and regret,’ and regret, Alan, financially the most successful issue of the last dozen years. What do you say to that?” and in his elation the little man puffed out his chest and pursing up his lips, blew through them, making a sound like that of wind among wires.

      “I don’t know, Mr. Haswell. If we are all alive I would prefer to answer the question twelve months hence, or later, when we see whether the company is going to be a practical success as well, or not.”

      Again Mr. Haswell made the sound of wind among wires, only this time there was a shriller note in it; its mellowness was gone, it was as though the air had suddenly been filled with frost.

      “A practical success!” he repeated after him. “That is scarcely our affair, is it? Promoters should not bother themselves with long views, Alan. These may be left to the investing public, the speculative parson and the maiden lady who likes a flutter—those props of modern enterprise. But what do you mean? You originated this idea and always said that the profits should be great.”

      “Yes, Mr. Haswell, on a moderate capitalization and provided that we are sure of the co-operation of the Porte.”

      Mr. Haswell looked at him very searchingly and Sir Robert, who had been listening, said in his cold voice:

      “I think that we thrashed out these points long ago, and to tell you the truth I am rather tired of them, especially as it is too late to change anything. How did you get on with Jackson, Vernon?”

      “I did not get on at all, Sir Robert. He will not touch the thing on any terms, and indeed means to oppose it tooth and nail.”

      “Then he will find himself in a minority when the articles come out to-morrow. Of course it is a bore, but we are strong enough to snap our fingers at him. You see they don’t read The Judge in France, and no one has ever heard of it in Constantinople. Therefore we have nothing to fear—so long as we stick together,” he added meaningly.

      Alan felt that the crisis had come. He must speak now or for ever hold his peace; indeed Aylward was already looking round for his hat.

      “Sir Robert and Mr. Haswell,” he broke in rather nervously, “I have something to say to you, something unpleasant,” and he paused.

      “Then please say it at once, Vernon. I want to dress for dinner, I am going to the theatre to-night and must dine early,” replied Aylward in a voice of the utmost unconcern.

      “It is, Sir Robert,” went on Alan with a rush, “that I do not like the lines upon which this business is being worked, and I wish to give up my interest in it and retire from the firm, as I have a right to do under our deed of partnership.”

      “Have you?” said Aylward. “Really, I forget. But, my dear fellow, do not think that we should wish to keep you for one moment against your will. Only, might I ask, has that old puritan, Jackson, hypnotized you, or is it a case of sudden madness after influenza?”

      “Neither,” answered Alan sternly, for although he might be diffident on matters that he did not thoroughly understand, he was not a man to brook trifling or impertinence. “It is what I have said, no more nor less. I am not satisfied either as to the capitalization or as to the guarantee that the enterprise can be really carried out. Further”—and he paused—“Further, I should like what I have never yet been able to obtain, more information as to that Firman under which the concession is granted.”

      For one moment a sort of tremor passed over Sir Robert’s impassive countenance, while Mr. Haswell uttered his windy whistle, this time in a tone of plaintive remonstrance.

      “As you have formally resigned your membership of the firm, I do not see that any useful purpose can be served by discussing such matters. The fullest explanations, of course, we should have been willing to give——”

      “My dear Alan,” broke in Mr. Champers-Haswell, who was quite upset, “I do implore you to reflect for one moment, for your own sake. In a single week you would have been a wealthy man; do you really mean to throw away everything for a whim?”

      “Perhaps Vernon remembers that he holds over 1700 of the Syndicate shares which we have worked up to £18, and thinks it wiser to capture the profit in sight, generally speaking a very sound principle,” interrupted Aylward sarcastically.

      “You are mistaken, Sir Robert,” replied Alan, flushing. “The way that those shares have been artificially put up is one of the things to which I most object. I shall only ask for mine the face value which I paid for them.”

      Now notwithstanding their experience, both of the senior partners did for a moment look rather scared. Such folly, or such honesty, was absolutely incredible to them. They felt that there must be much behind. Sir Robert, however, recovered instantly.

      “Very well,” he said; “it is not for us to dictate to you; you must make your own bed and lie on it. To argue or remonstrate would only be rude.” He put out his hand and pushed the button of an electric bell, adding as he did so, “Of course we understand one thing, Vernon, namely, that as a gentleman and a man of honour you will make no public use of the information which you have acquired during your stay in this office, either to our detriment, personal or financial, or to your own advantage.”

      “Certainly you may understand that,” replied Vernon. “Unless my character is attacked and it becomes necessary for me to defend myself, my lips are sealed.”

      “That


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