CHAPTER XXI.
AN UNEXPECTED BLOW.
The crisis at the African fields was even more acute than had beenanticipated by the conspirators. Nothing approaching to it had everbeen known in South Africa before. Diamonds went steadily down in valueuntil they were selling at a price which no dealer would have believedpossible, and the sale of claims reached such a climax that men wereglad to get rid of them for the mere price of the plant and machineryerected at them. The offices of the various dealers at Kimberley werebesieged night and day by an importunate crowd of miners, who werewilling to sell at any price in order to save something from the generalruin which they imagined was about to come upon the industry. Some,more long-headed or more desperate than their neighbours, continued towork their claims and to keep the stones which they found until pricesmight be better. As fresh mails came from the Cape, however, eachconfirming and amplifying the ominous news, these independent workersgrew fewer and more faint-hearted, for their boys had to be paid eachweek, and where was the money to come from with which to pay them?The dealers, too, began to take the alarm, and the most tempting offerswould hardly induce them to give hard cash in exchange for stones whichmight prove to be a drug in the market. Everywhere there was misery andstagnation.
Ezra Girdlestone was not slow to take advantage of this state of things,but he was too cunning to do so in a manner which might call attentionto himself or his movements. In his wanderings he had come across anoutcast named Farintosh, a man who had once been a clergyman and amaster of arts of Trinity College, Dublin, but who was now a broken-downgambler with a slender purse and a still more slender conscience.He still retained a plausible manner and an engaging address, and thesequalities first recommended him to the notice of the young merchant.A couple of days after the receipt of the news from Europe, Ezra sentfor this fellow and sat with him for some time on the verandah of thehotel, talking over the situation.
"You see, Farintosh," he remarked, "it might be a false alarm, might itnot?"
The ex-clergyman nodded. He was a man of few words.
"If it should be, it would be an excellent thing for those who buy now."
Farintosh nodded once again.
"Of course," Ezra continued, "it looks as if the thing was beyond alldoubt. My experience has taught me, however, that there is nothing souncertain as a certainty. That's what makes me think of speculatingover this. If I lose it won't hurt me much, and I might win. I cameout here more for the sake of seeing a little of the world than anythingelse, but now that this has turned up I'll have a shy at it."
"Quite so," said Farintosh, rubbing his hands.
"You see," Ezra continued, lighting a cheroot, "I have the name here ofhaving a long purse and of knowing which way the wind blows. If I wereto be seen buying others would follow my lead, and prices would soon beas high as ever. Now, what I purpose is to work through you, d'ye see?You can take out a licence and buy in stones on the quiet withoutattracting much attention. Beat them down as low as you can, and givethis hotel as your address. When they call here they shall be paid,which is better than having you carrying the money round with you."
The clergyman scowled as though he thought it was anything but better.He did not make any remark, however.
"You can get one or two fellows to help you," said Ezra. "I'll pay fortheir licences. I can't expect you to work all the camps yourself.Of course, if you offer more for a stone than I care to give, that'syour look out, but if you do your work well you shall not be the loser.You shall have a percentage on business done and a weekly salary aswell."
"How much money do you care to invest?" asked Farintosh.
"I'm not particular," Ezra answered. "If I do a thing I like to do itwell. I'll go the length of thirty thousand pounds."
Farintosh was so astonished at the magnitude of the sum that he sankback in his chair in bewilderment. "Why, sir," he said, "I think justat present you could buy the country for that."
Ezra laughed. "We'll make it go as far as we can," he said. "Of courseyou may buy claims as well as stones."
"And I have carte blanche to that amount?"
"Certainly."
"All right, I'll begin this evening," said the ex-parson; and pickingup his slouched hat, which he still wore somewhat broader in the brimthan his comrades, in deference to old associations, he departed uponhis mission.
Farintosh was a clever man and soon chose two active subordinates.These were a navvy, named Burt, and Williams, a young Welshman, who haddisappeared from home behind a cloud of forged cheques, and havingchanged his name had made a fresh start in life to the south of theequator. These three worked day and night buying in stones from themore needy and impecunious miners, to whom ready money was a matter ofabsolute necessity. Farintosh bought in the stock, too, of severalsmall dealers whose nerves had been shaken by the panic. In this waybag after bag was filled with diamonds by Ezra, while he himself was toall appearances doing nothing but smoking cigars and sippingbrandy-and-water in front of the _Central Hotel_.
He was becoming somewhat uneasy in his mind as to how long the delusionwould be kept up, or how soon news might come from the Cape that theUral find had been examined into and had proved to be a myth. In anycase, he thought that he would be free from suspicion. Still, it mightbe as well for him by that time to be upon his homeward journey, for heknew that if by any chance the true facts leaked out there would be nohope of mercy from the furious diggers. Hence he incited Farintosh togreater speed, and that worthy divine with his two agents worked soenergetically that in less than a week there was little left of five andthirty thousand pounds.
Ezra Girdlestone had shown his power of reading character when he chosethe ex-clergyman as his subordinate. It is possible, however, that theyoung man's judgment had been inferior to his powers of observation.A clever man as a trusty ally is a valuable article, but when the saidcleverness may be turned against his employer the advantage becomes aquestionable one.
It was perfectly evident to Farintosh that though a stray capitalistmight risk a thousand pounds or so on a speculation of this sort,Rothschild himself would hardly care to invest such a sum as had passedthrough his hands without having some ground on which to go. Havingformed this conclusion, and having also turned over in his mind theremarkable coincidence that the news of this discovery in Russia shouldfollow so very rapidly upon the visit of the junior partner of the Houseof Girdlestone, the astute clergyman began to have some dim perceptionof the truth. Hence he brooded a good deal as he went about his work,and cogitated deeply in a manner which was once again distinctlyundesirable in so very intelligent a subordinate.
These broodings and cogitations culminated in a meeting, which was heldby him with his two sub-agents in the private parlour of the Digger'sRetreat. It was a low-roofed, smoke-stained room, with a profusion ofspittoons scattered over it, which, to judge by the condition of thefloor, the patrons of the establishment had taken some pains to avoid.Round a solid, old-fashioned table in the centre of this apartment satEzra's staff of assistants, the parson thoughtful but self-satisfied,the others sullen and inquisitive. Farintosh had convened the meeting,and his comrades had an idea that there was something in the wind.They applied themselves steadily, therefore, to the bottle of Hollandsupon the table, and waited for him to speak.
"Well," the ex-clergyman said at last, "the game is nearly over, andwe'll not be wanted any more. Girdlestone's off to England in a day ortwo."
Burt and Williams groaned sympathetically. Work was scarce in thediggings during the crisis, and their agencies had been paying themwell.
"Yes, he's off," Farintosh went on, glancing keenly at his companions,"and he takes with him five and thirty thousand pounds worth of diamondsthat we bought for him. Poor devils like us, Burt, have to do the work,and then are thrown aside as you would throw your pick aside when youare done with it. When he sells out in London and makes his pile, itwon't much matter to him that the three men who helped him are starvi
ngin Griqualand."
"Won't he give us somethin' at partin'?" asked Burt, the navvy. He wasa savage-looking, hairy man, with a brick-coloured face and over-hangingeyebrows. "Won't he give us nothing to remembrance him by?"
"Give you something!" Farintosh said with a sneer. "Why, man, he saysyou are too well paid already."
"Does he, though?" cried the navvy, flushing even redder than nature hadmade him. "Is that the way he speaks after we makes him? It ain't onthe square. I likes to see things honest an' above board betwixt manan' man, and this pitchin' of them as has helped ye over ain't that."
Farintosh lowered his voice and bent further over the table.His companions involuntarily imitated his movement, until the threecunning, cruel faces were looking closely into one another's eyes.
"Nobody knows that he holds those stones," said Farintosh. "He's toosmart to let it out to any one but ourselves."
"Where does he keep 'em?" asked the Welshman.
"In a safe in his room."
"Where is the key?"
"On his watch-chain."
"Could we get an impression?"
"I have one."
"Then I can make one," cried Williams triumphantly.
"It's done," said Farintosh, taking a small key from his pocket."This is a duplicate, and will open the safe. I took the moulding fromhis key while I was speaking to him."
The navvy laughed hoarsely. "If that don't lick creation forsmartness!" he cried. "And how are we to get to this safe? It wouldserve him right if we collar the lot. It'll teach him that if he ain'thonest by nature he's got to be when he deals with the like of us.I like straightness, and by the Lord I'll have it!" He brought hisgreat fist down upon the table to emphasize this commendable sentiment.
"It's not an easy matter," Farintosh said thoughtfully. "When he goesout he locks his door, and there's no getting in at the window. There'sonly one chance for us that I can see. His room is a bit cut off fromthe rest of the hotel. There's a gallery of twenty feet or more thatleads to it. Now, I was thinking that if the three of us were to visithim some evening, just to wish him luck on his journey, as it were, andif, while we were in the room something sudden was to happen which wouldknock him silly for a minute or two, we might walk off with the stonesand be clean gone before he could raise an alarm."
"And what would knock him silly?" asked Williams. He was an unhealthy,scorbutic-looking youth, and his pallid complexion had assumed agreenish tinge of fear as he listened to the clergyman's words.He had the makings in him of a mean and dangerous criminal, but not of aviolent one--belonging to the jackal tribe rather than to the tiger.
"What would knock him senseless?" Farintosh asked Burt, with a knowinglook.
Burt laughed again in his bushy, red beard. "You can leave that to me,mate," he said.
Williams glanced from one to the other and he became even morecadaverous. "I'm not in it," he stammered. "It will be a hanging job.You will kill him as like as not."
"Not in it, ain't ye?" growled the navvy. "Why, you white-liveredhound, you're too deep in it ever to get out again. D'ye think we'lllet you spoil a lay of this sort as we might never get a chance ofagain?"
"You can do it without me," said the Welshman, trembling in every limb.
"And have you turnin' on us the moment a reward was offered. No, no,chummy, you don't get out of it that way. If you won't stand by us,I'll take care you don't split."
"Think of the diamonds," Farintosh put in.
"Think of your own skin," said the navvy.
"You could go back to England a rich man if you do it."
"You'll never go back at all if you don't." Thus worked uponalternately by his hopes and by his fears, Williams showed some signs ofyielding. He took a long draught from his glass and filled it up again.
"I ain't afraid," he said. "Don't imagine that I am afraid. You won'thit him very hard, Mr. Burt?"
"Just enough to curl him up," the navvy answered. "Lord love ye, itain't the first man by many a one that I've laid on his back, though Inever had the chance before of fingering five and thirty thousand poundsworth of diamonds for my pains."
"But the hotel-keeper and the servants?"
"That's all right," said Farintosh. "You leave it to me. If we go upquietly and openly, and come down quietly and openly, who is to suspectanything? Our horses will be outside, in Woodley Street, and we'll beout of their reach in no time. Shall we say to-morrow evening for thejob?"
"That's very early," Williams cried tremulously.
"The sooner the better," Burt said, with an oath. "And look here, youngman," fixing Williams with his bloodshot eyes, "one sign of drawingback, and by the living jingo I'll let you have more than I'm keepingfor him. You hear me, eh?" He grasped the youth's white wrist andsqueezed it in his iron grip until he writhed with the pain.
"Oh, I'm with you, heart and soul," he cried. "I'm sure what you andMr. Farintosh advise must be for the best."
"Meet here at eight o'clock to-morrow night then," said the leader."We can get it over by nine, and we will have the night for our escape.I'll have the horses ready, and it will be strange if we don't get sucha start as will puzzle them."
So, having arranged all the details of their little plan, these threegentlemen departed in different directions--Farintosh to the _CentralHotel_, to give Ezra his evening report, and the others to themining-camps, which were the scene of their labours.
The meeting just described took place upon a Tuesday, early in November.On the Saturday Ezra Girdlestone had fully made up his mind to turn hisback upon the diggings and begin his homeward journey. He was piningfor the pleasures of his old London life, and was weary of themonotonous expanse of the South African veldt. His task was done, too,and it would be well for him to be at a distance before the diggersdiscovered the manner in which they had been hoaxed. He began to packhis boxes, therefore, and to make every preparation for his departure.
He was busily engaged in this employment upon the Wednesday evening whenthere was a tap at the door and Farintosh walked in, accompanied by Burtand Williams. Girdlestone glanced up at them, and greeted them briefly.He was not surprised at their visit, for they had come together severaltimes before to report progress or make arrangements. Farintosh bowedas he entered the room, Burt nodded, and Williams rubbed his handstogether and looked amiably bilious.
"We looked in, Mr. Girdlestone," Farintosh began, "to learn if you hadany commands for us."
"I told you before that I had not," Ezra said curtly. "I am going onSaturday. I have made a mistake in speculating on those diamonds.Prices are sinking lower and lower."
"I am sorry to hear that," said Farintosh sympathetically. "Maybe themarket will take a turn."
"Let us hope so," the merchant answered. "It doesn't look like it."
"But you are satisfied with us, guv'nor," Burt struck in, pushing hisbulky form in front of Farintosh. "We have done our work all right,haven't we?"
"I have nothing to complain of," Ezra said coldly.
"Well then, guv'nor, you surely ain't going away without leaving usnothing to remembrance you with, seeing that we've stood by you andnever gone back on you."
"You have been paid every week for what you have done," the young mansaid. "You won't get another penny out of me, so you set your mind atrest about that."
"You won't give us nothing?" cried the navvy angrily.
"No, I won't; and I'll tell you what it is, Burt, big as you are, if youdare to raise your voice in my presence I'll give you the soundesthiding that ever you had in your life."
Ezra had stood up and showed every indication of being as good as hisword.
"Don't let us quarrel the last time we may meet," Farintosh cried,intervening between the two. "It is not money we expect from you.All we want is a drain of rum to drink success to you with."
"Oh, if that's all," said the young merchant--and turned round to pickup the bottle which stood on a table behind him. Quick as a flash Burts
prang upon him and struck him down with a life-preserver. With agasping cry and a heavy thud Ezra fell face downwards upon the floor,the bottle still clutched in his senseless hand, and the escaping rumforming a horrible mixture with the blood which streamed from a greatgash in his head.
"Very neat--very pretty indeed!" cried the ex-parson, in a quiet tone ofcritical satisfaction, as a connoisseur might speak of a specimen whichinterested him. He was already busy at the door of the safe.
"Well done, Mr. Burt, well done!" cried Williams, in a quivering voice;and going up to the body he kicked it in the side. "You see I am notafraid, Mr. Burt, am I?"
"Stow your gab!" snarled the navvy. "Here's the rum all gettin' loose."Picking up the bottle he took a pull of what was left in it."Here's the bag, parson," he whispered, pulling a black linen bag fromhis pocket. "We haven't made much noise over the job."
"Here are the stones," said Farintosh, in the same quiet voice."Hold the mouth open." He emptied an avalanche of diamonds into thereceptacle. "Here are some notes and gold. We may as well have themtoo. Now, tie it up carefully. That's the way! If we meet any one onthe stairs, take it coolly. Turn that lamp out, Williams, so that ifany one looks in he'll see nothing. Come along!"
The guilty trio stole out of the room, bearing their plunder with them,and walked down the passage of the hotel unmolested and unharmed.
The moon, as it rose over the veldt that night, shone on three horsemenspurring it along the Capetown road as though their very lives dependedupon their speed. Its calm, clear rays streamed over the silent roofsof Kimberley and in through a particular window of the _Central Hotel_,throwing silvery patches upon the carpet, and casting strange shadowsfrom the figure which lay as it had fallen, huddled in an ungainly heapupon the floor.