CHAPTER XIV
Scarlett Trent spent the first part of the morning, to which he had beenlooking forward so eagerly, alone in his study with locked door to keepout all intruders. He had come face to face with the first serious checkin his career, and it had been dealt him too by the one man whom, of allhis associates, he disliked and despised. In the half-open drawer by hisside was the barrel of a loaded revolver. He drew it out, laid it on thetable before him, and regarded it with moody, fascinated eyes. If onlyit could be safely done, if only for one moment he could find himselfface to face with Da Souza in Bekwando village, where human life wascheap and the slaying of a man an incident scarcely worth noting in theday's events! The thing was easy enough there--here it was too risky. Hethrust the weapon back into the drawer with a sigh of regret, just as DaSouza himself appeared upon the scene.
"You sent for me, Trent," the latter remarked timidly. "I am quite readyto answer any more questions."
"Answer this one, then," was the gruff reply. "In Buckomari villagebefore we left for England I was robbed of a letter. I don't think Ineed ask you who was the thief."
"Really, Trent--I--"
"Don't irritate me; I'm in an ill humour for anything of that sort. Youstole it! I can see why now! Have you got it still?"
The Jew shrugged his shoulders.
"Yes."
"Hand it over."
Da Souza drew a large folding case from his pocket and after searchingthrough it for several moments produced an envelope. The handwriting wasshaky and irregular, and so faint that even in the strong, sweet lightof the morning sunshine Trent had difficulty in reading it. He tore itopen and drew out a half-sheet of coarse paper. It was a message fromthe man who for long he had counted dead.
"BEKWANDO.
"MY DEAR TRENT,-I have been drinking as usual! Some men see snakes, butI have seen death leering at me from the dark corners of this vile hut,and death is an evil thing to look at when one's life has been evil asmine has been. Never mind! I have sown and I must reap! But, my friend,a last word with you. I have a notion, and more than a notion, that Ishall never pass back alive through these pestilential swamps. If youshould arrive, as you doubtless will, here is a charge which I lay uponyou. That agreement of ours is scarcely a fair one, is it, Trent? WhenI signed it, I wasn't quite myself. Never mind! I'll trust to you to dowhat's fair. If the thing turns out a great success, put some sort ofa share at any rate to my credit and let my daughter have it. You willfind her address from Messrs. Harris and Culsom, Solicitors, Lincoln'sInn Fields. You need only ask them for Monty's daughter and show themthis letter. They will understand. I believe you to be a just man,Scarlett Trent, although I know you to be a hard one. Do then as I ask.
"MONTY."
Da Souza had left the room quietly. Trent read the letter through twiceand locked it up in his desk. Then he rose and lit a pipe, knocking outthe ashes carefully and filling the bowl with dark but fragrant tobacco.Presently he rang the bell.
"Tell Mr. Da Souza I wish to see him here at once," he told the servant,and, though the message was a trifle peremptory from a host to hisguest, Da Souza promptly appeared, suave and cheerful.
"Shut the door," Trent said shortly.
Da Souza obeyed with unabashed amiability. Trent watched him withsomething like disgust. Da Souza returning caught the look, and feltcompelled to protest.
"My dear Trent," he said, "I do not like the way you address me, or yourmanners towards me. You speak as though I were a servant. I do not likeit all, and it is not fair. I am your guest, am I not?"
"You are my guest by your own invitation," Trent answered roughly, "andif you don't like my manners you can turn out. I may have to endure youin the house till I have made up my mind how to get rid of you, but Iwant as little of your company as possible. Do you hear?"
Da Souza did hear it, and the worm turned. He sat down in the mostcomfortable easy-chair, and addressed Trent directly.
"My friend," he said, "you are out of temper, and that is a bad thing.Now listen to me! You are in my power. I have only to go into theCity to-morrow and breathe here and there a word about a certain oldgentleman who shall be nameless, and you would be a ruined man insomething less than an hour; added to this, my friend, you would mostcertainly be arrested for conspiracy and fraud. That Syndicate of yourswas a very smart stroke of business, no doubt, and it was clever of youto keep me in ignorance of it, but as things have turned out now,that will be your condemnation. They will say, why did you keep me inignorance of this move, and the answer--why, it is very clear! I knewyou were selling what was not yours to sell!"
"I kept you away," Trent said scornfully, "because I was dealing withmen who would not have touched the thing if they had known that you werein it!"
"Who will believe it?" Da Souza asked, with a sneer. "They will say thatit is but one more of the fairy tales of this wonderful Mr. ScarlettTrent."
The breath came through Trent's lips with a little hiss and his eyeswere flashing with a dull fire. But Da Souza held his ground. He hadnerved himself up to this and he meant going through with it.
"You think I dare not breathe a word for my own sake," he continued."There is reason in that, but I have other monies. I am rich enoughwithout my sixth share of that Bekwando Land and Mining Company whichyou and the Syndicate are going to bring out! But then, I am not a fool!I have no wish to throw away money. Now I propose to you therefore afriendly settlement. My daughter Julie is very charming. You admire her,I am sure. You shall marry her, and then we will all be one family. Ourinterests will be the same, and you may be sure that I shall look afterthem. Come! Is that not a friendly offer?"
For several minutes Trent smoked furiously, but he did not speak. At theend of that time he took the revolver once more from the drawer of hiswriting-table and fingered it.
"Da Souza," he said, "if I had you just for five minutes at Bekwando wewould talk together of black-mail, you and I, we would talk of marryingyour daughter. We would talk then to some purpose--you hound! Get out ofthe room as fast as your legs will carry you. This revolver is loaded,and I'm not quite master of myself."
Da Souza made off with amazing celerity. Trent drew a short, quickbreath. There was a great deal of the wild beast left in him still. Atthat moment the desire to kill was hot in his blood. His eyes glared ashe walked up and down the room. The years of civilisation seemed to havebecome as nothing. The veneer of the City speculator had fallen away.He was once more as he had been in those wilder days when men madetheir own laws, and a man's hold upon life was a slighter thing thanhis thirst for gold. As such, he found the atmosphere of the little roomchoking him, he drew open the French windows of his little study andstrode out into the perfumed and sunlit morning. As such, he foundhimself face to face unexpectedly and without warning with the girl whomhe had discovered sketching in the shrubbery the day before.