Africa -- Fiction; Businessmen -- Fiction; Crime -- England -- Fiction; Criminals -- England -- Fiction
"Of course, afther hearing a skitch of the plan," continued the major,
"me curiosity was so aroused that I could not help following the details
with intherest. I saw the gintleman who departed for Russia--
Langworthy, I believe, was his name. Ged! I knew a chap of that name
in the Marines who used to drink raw brandy and cayenne pepper before
breakfast every morning. Did ye? Of course you couldn't. What was I
talking of at all at all?"
Girdlestone stared gloomily at his visitor. The latter took a pinch of
snuff from a tortoise-shell box, and flicked away a few wandering grains
which settled upon the front of his coat.
"Yes," he went on, I saw Langworthy off to Russia. Then I saw your son
start for Africa. He's an interprising lad, and sure to do well there.
_Coelum non animam mutant_, as we used to say at Clongowes.
He'll always come to the front, wherever he is, as long as he avoids
little slips like this one we're spaking of. About the same time I
heard that Girdlestone & Co, had raised riddy money to the extint of
five and thirty thousand pounds. That's gone to Africa, too, I presume.
It's a lot o' money to invist in such a game, and it might be safe if
you were the only people that knew about it, but whin there are
others--"
"Others?"
"Why, me, of course," said the major. "I know about it, and more be
token I am not in the swim with you. Sure, I could go this very evening
to the diamond merchants about town and give them a tip about the coming
fall in prices that would rather astonish 'em."
"Look here, Major Clutterbuck," cried the merchant, in a voice which
quivered with suppressed passion, "you have come into possession of an
important commercial secret. Why beat about the bush any longer?
What is the object of your visit to-day? What is it that you want?"
"There now!" the major said, addressing himself and smiling more
amicably than ever. "That's business. Bedad, there's where you
commercial men have the pull. You go straight to the point and stick
there. Ah, when I look at ye, I can't help thinking of your son.
The same intelligent eye, the same cheery expression, the same
devil-may-care manner and dry humour--"
"Answer my question, will you?" the merchant interrupted savagely.
"And the same hasty timper," continued the major imperturbably.
"I've forgotten, me dear sir, what it was you asked me."
"What is it you want?"
"Ah, yes, of course. What is it I want?" the old soldier said
meditatively. "Some would say more, some less. Some would want half,
but that is overdoing it. How does a thousand pound stroike you?
Yes, I think we may put it at a thousand pounds."
"You want a thousand pounds?"
"Ged, I've been wanting it all me life. The difference is that I'm
going to git it now."
"And for what?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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