An African Millionaire: Episodes in the Life of the Illustrious Colonel Clay — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
An African Millionaire: Episodes in the Life of the Illustrious Colonel Clay
John Stuart Mill · en
"Oh, a man who was at Nice with us last year," I stammered out,
trying hard to look unconcerned. "A fellow they talked about,
that's all." And I turned the subject.
But the curate, like a donkey, wouldn't let me turn it.
"Had he eyebrows like that?" he inquired, in an undertone. I was
really angry. If this _was_ Colonel Clay, the curate was obviously
giving him the cue, and making it much more difficult for us to
catch him, now we might possibly have lighted on the chance of
doing so.
"No, he hadn't," I answered testily; "it was a passing expression.
But this is not the man. I was mistaken, no doubt." And I nudged
him gently.
The little curate was too innocent for anything. "Oh, I see," he
replied, nodding hard and looking wise. Then he turned to his wife
and made an obvious face, which the man with the eyebrows couldn't
fail to notice.
Fortunately, a political discussion going on a few places farther
down the table spread up to us and diverted attention for a moment.
The magical name of Gladstone saved us. Sir Charles flared up. I
was truly pleased, for I could see Amelia was boiling over with
curiosity by this time.
After dinner, in the billiard-room, however, the man with the big
eyebrows sidled up and began to talk to me. If he _was_ Colonel
Clay, it was evident he bore us no grudge at all for the five
thousand pounds he had done us out of. On the contrary, he seemed
quite prepared to do us out of five thousand more when opportunity
offered; for he introduced himself at once as Dr. Hector Macpherson,
the exclusive grantee of extensive concessions from the Brazilian
Government on the Upper Amazons. He dived into conversation with
me at once as to the splendid mineral resources of his Brazilian
estate--the silver, the platinum, the actual rubies, the possible
diamonds. I listened and smiled; I knew what was coming. All he
needed to develop this magnificent concession was a little more
capital. It was sad to see thousands of pounds' worth of platinum
and car-loads of rubies just crumbling in the soil or carried away
by the river, for want of a few hundreds to work them with properly.
If he knew of anybody, now, with money to invest, he could recommend
him--nay, offer him--a unique opportunity of earning, say, 40 per
cent on his capital, on unimpeachable security.
"I wouldn't do it for every man," Dr. Hector Macpherson remarked,
drawing himself up; "but if I took a fancy to a fellow who had
command of ready cash, I might choose to put him in the way of
feathering his nest with unexampled rapidity."
"Exceedingly disinterested of you," I answered drily, fixing my
eyes on his eyebrows.
The little curate, meanwhile, was playing billiards with Sir
Charles. His glance followed mine as it rested for a moment on
the monkey-like hairs.
"False, obviously false," he remarked with his lips; and I'm bound
to confess I never saw any man speak so well by movement alone;
you could follow every word though not a sound escaped him.