Still, there could be no harm in making him more or less acquainted with my innocent past and my embarrassed present. I had nothing I wished to conceal, except the whereabouts of my goldfield; and it seemed quite on the cards that, in return for this unknown service that he wanted from me, I might be able to interest him in my scheme. In any case, curiosity alone would have made me go through with the matter now I had got so far. I instinctively felt that Mr. Northcote's proposals when they came would be of a decidedly interesting nature. So, as soon as the waiter had withdrawn, I filled up my glass again, and looking across at my companion with a smile, began to satisfy his curiosity. "There's not very much to tell you, after all," I said. "To start with, I'm thirty-four." He gazed at me keenly. "You look five years older," he said. "Yes," I retorted. "Perhaps, if you'd been knocking about South America for fifteen years, you'd show some fairly obvious signs of it." A momentary flicker of surprise passed across his face. Then he laughed dryly. "Oh!" he said. "What part of South America have you been in?" "Most of it," I said, "but I know the Argentine best." "What were you doing?" he asked. "It would be shorter," I said, "to tell you what I wasn't. I've been a ranchman, a cattle-dealer, a store-keeper, a soldier, a prospector, and several other little things that happened to roll up. South America is a great place for teaching one to take a spacious view of the day's work." "So I believe," he said. "And what brings you to England?" "An incorrect idea of British enterprise," I answered. "My last achievement in South America was to strike gold--quite a lot of it, unless I'm pretty badly mistaken. I came over here to try and raise some capital." "And you've failed?" I laughed. "The British capitalist," I said, "is still as rich as he was when I landed." He nodded his head. "What are your plans now?" he asked. "I'm sailing for New York as soon as I can get a ship," I answered. "Have you many friends in London?" he demanded. "There's my landlady," I said. "She is friendly enough as long as I pay her bill, but that's about the full extent of my social circle." There was a short silence. Then Northcote got up from his chair and, walking across the room, locked the door. I watched him with interest. He seated himself again at the table, and lit a cigarette. "Mr. Burton," he said, "what value do you put upon your life? I mean, for what sum would you be prepared to run a very considerable risk of losing it?" He asked the question in such a business-like and unemotional manner that I could not repress a smile. "I don't know," I said. "If I thought it was really valuable, I should be strongly inclined to put it up to auction." He learned across the table and looked me full in the eyes. "If you will do what I want," he said slowly, "I will give you ten thousand pounds." CHAPTER III