Now it was full speed ahead and a direct line for Corea. Once in the
open sea, we struck straight through the Archipelago and took our
chances of running down an island, as the captain had said. There was
no dawdling this time, for the engines were run to the top of their
power. As was the case with our former voyages in these waters, the
weather was perfect and the sea smooth.
Our dinner that night was on the whole a silent festival. The jovial
captain did not come down, and Mr. Hemster sat moodily at the head of
the table, absorbed in thought and doubtless tortured with anxiety.
Cammerford was the only member of the party who endeavoured to make
a show of cheerful demeanour. His manner with women was one of
deferential urbanity, and, as he never ventured to joke with them,
he was justly popular with the sex. I quite envied him his power of
pleasing, which was so spontaneous that it seemed a natural and not an
acquired gift. The man appeared to possess an almost hypnotic power
over his fellow-creatures, and although I believed him to be one of the
most untrustworthy rascals alive, yet I felt this belief crumbling away
under the magnetic charm of his conversation.
The old gentleman at the head of the table was evidently immune so
far as Cammerford’s fascination was concerned. I surmised that there
had come a hitch in the negotiations between them. There was no trace
of uneasiness in Cammerford’s attitude, and his voice was as mildly
confident as ever. No one would guess that he was practically a
self-invited guest at this board. Our host was completely taciturn,
but the unbidden guest never risked a snub by addressing a direct
question to him, although he airily included Mr. Hemster with the rest
of us within the area of his polite discourse. Hilda was scarcely
more responsive than Mr. Hemster and seemed troubled because he was
troubled, and as I possessed an instinctive dislike for Cammerford
it will be seen that he had a most difficult rôle to play, which he
enacted with a success that would have done credit to Sir Henry Irving
himself. If there was indeed, as I suspected, a conflict between the
elder man and the younger, I found myself wondering which would win,
but such a quiet atmosphere of confidence enwrapped the latter that I
began to fear Mr. Hemster had met his match, in spite of the fact that
he held all the trump cards. Cammerford represented the new school of
financiers, who juggled with billions as a former generation had played
with millions. My sympathies were entirely with Mr. Hemster, but if
I had been a sporting man my bet would have been laid on Cammerford.
I mention this as an instance of the hypnotic power I have referred
to. I knew that Cammerford could not form his gigantic trust and
leave Mr. Hemster out; therefore, as I say, the elder man held the
trumps. Nevertheless the bearing of Cammerford indicated such reserved
assurance that I felt certain he would ultimately bend the old man to
his will, and I watched for the result of this opposition of forces
with the eagerness with which one awaits the climax of an exciting play
on the stage.
After dinner Hilda came on deck for half an hour or thereabouts, and
we walked up and down together. The excitement of the day and the
uncertainty that lay ahead of us had told heavily on the poor girl, and
I had not the heart to persuade her to remain longer on deck. She was
rather depressed and admittedly weary of the life we were leading. So I
took cowardly advantage of this and proposed we should get married at
the American Consulate as soon as the yacht returned to Nagasaki. Then,
I said, we could make our way to Yokohama and take passage on a regular
liner for San Francisco.
To this proposal she made no reply, but walked demurely by my side with
downcast eyes.
“Think of the glories of Chicago at this moment!” I cried
enthusiastically, wishing to appeal to the home feeling. “Dinner
finished; the roar of the traffic in the streets; the brilliancy of the
electric light; the theatres open, and the gay crowds entering therein.
Let us make for Chicago.”
She looked up at me with a wan little smile, and laughed quietly.
“You _do_ need a guardian, as Papa Hemster says. I suppose it is about
noon in Chicago at the present moment, and I don’t see why the theatres
should be open at that hour. It is the roar of the wheat pit, and not
of the traffic you are hearing. I fear your visit to Chicago was of the
briefest, for your picture is not very convincing. Still, I confess I
wish I were there now, if you were with me.” Then with a slight sigh
she added, “I’ll accept that guardianship at Nagasaki. Good-night, my
dear,” and with that she whisked away and disappeared before I was
aware of her meditated escape.
I lit a fresh cigar and continued my promenade alone. As I walked aft
I caught snatches of the musical monotone of Cammerford’s voice. Ever
since dinner time he had been in earnest conversation with Mr. Hemster,
who sat in his usual chair at the stern of the boat. So far as I am
aware, Mr. Hemster was leaving the burden of the talk to the younger
man, who, from the tone of his voice, seemed in deadly earnest. At last
Mr. Hemster got up and threw his cigar overboard. I heard him say:
“I told you, Mr. Cammerford, that I would not discuss this matter
further until I reached Nagasaki. The papers are all in my desk under
lock and key in the room at the hotel, and that room is closed and
sealed. I’ll say no more about this scheme until I am back there.”
“And when you are back there, Mr. Hemster, what action are you going to
take?”
“Whatever action seems to be best for my own interests, Mr. Cammerford.”
“Well, from most men that reply would be very unsatisfactory. However,
I am glad to say I trust you completely, Mr. Hemster, and I know you
will do the square thing in the end.”
“I’m glad you think so,” said the old man curtly, as he went down the
stairway. Cammerford stood there for a few moments, then strode forward
and joined me.
“May I beg a light of you?” he asked, as if he were conferring a favour.
I don’t care to light one cigar from another, so I struck a match and
held it while he took advantage of the flame.
“Thanks. Now, Tremorne, I want to talk with you as to a friend. We were
friends once, you know.”
“True; the kind of friend the celebrated phrase refers to, perhaps.”
“What phrase?”
“‘God protect me from my friends,’ or words to that effect.”
He laughed most genially.
“That’s one on me,” he said. “However, I look on our score as being
wiped out. Can’t you let bygones be bygones?”
“Oh, yes.”
“You see you are in a way responsible. I have turned over the money to
you. Granted I was forced to do so. I claim no merit in the matter, but
I do say a bargain is a bargain. I showed you the old man’s letter to
me, in which he said if I did thus and so by you, he would join me in
the big beef combine. You remember that, don’t you?”
“Naturally, I shouldn’t soon forget it, or forget the generosity of Mr.
Hemster in writing it.”
“Oh, generosity is cheap when you are doing it at somebody else’s
expense. Still, I don’t complain of that at all. What I say is this:
I’ve kept my part of the contract strictly and honestly, but now the
old man is trying to euchre me.”
“I remember also, Mr. Cammerford, that you said Mr. Hemster was a rogue
or dishonest, or something of like effect.”
“Well, so he is.”
“In that case, why do you object to being euchred by him?”
“Well, you see, I had his promise in writing, and I thought I was safe.”
“You have it in writing still, I presume. If he does not live up to
what he has written, you probably have your recourse at law, for they
say there is no wrong without a remedy.”
“Oh, that’s all talking through your hat. It isn’t a lawsuit I’m after,
but the co-operation of Mr. Hemster. What chance would I have against a
man of his wealth?”
“I’m sure I don’t know. What is it you wish from me? Advice?”
“I wanted to explain the situation that has arisen, and I wish to know
if you have anything to suggest that will lead the old man to do the
square thing?”
“I have no suggestion to make, Mr. Cammerford.”
“Supposing he does not keep his promise, don’t you think it would be
fair that the money I expended on the strength of it should be returned
to me?”
“It does seem reasonable, I admit.”
“I am glad to hear you say so, and to tell the truth, Mr. Tremorne, it
is just the action I should expect of you.”
“What action?”
“The returning of the money, of course.”
“Bless my soul, you don’t suppose I’m going to return a penny of it, do
you?”
“Ah, your honesty is theory then, not practice.”
“My dear sir, my honesty is both theory and practice. The money is
mine. I made you no promises regarding it. In fact, I refused to make
any promise when you offered me half the amount. If I had made any
engagements I should have kept them.”
“I see. I take it then you do not regard yourself as bound by any
promises the old man made on your behalf?”
“Certainly not. I knew nothing of the matter until you showed me his
letter.”
“Your position is perfectly sound, Mr. Tremorne, and I unreservedly
withdraw the imputation I put upon your honesty a moment since. But the
truth is that this amount represents a very serious loss to me. It was
a sprat thrown out to catch a whale, or, rather, a whale thrown out to
catch a shoal of whales. But if I lose the whale and do not catch my
shoal, then I have done a very bad piece of business by coming East.
Through this proposed combine I expected to make several millions. Now,
if you will join in with me, and put your half-million into the pool,
I’ll guarantee that before a month you have doubled it.”
“You gave me a chance like that once before, Mr. Cammerford.”
The man laughed heartily as if I had perpetrated a very amusing joke.
“Oh, yes, but that was years ago. We have both learned a good deal
since.”
“I certainly have, Mr. Cammerford. I have learned so much that I will
not part with a penny of the money; not a red cent of it, as we say out
West. That sum is going to be safely salted down, and it’s not going to
be salted in a corned-beef tub either. I don’t mind telling you that
I intend to get married upon it at the American Consulate at Nagasaki
before a week is past.”
“Really? Allow me to congratulate you, my boy. I surmised that was the
way the land lay, and I quite envy you your charming young lady.”
“Thanks!”
“But you see, Mr. Tremorne, that makes your money doubly safe. I
noticed that Mr. Hemster is as fond of Miss Stretton as he is of his
own daughter, and if you give me the half million, he’ll see to it that
you make a hundred per cent on it.”
“I don’t at all agree with you, Mr. Cammerford. To speak with brutal
frankness, if I trusted you with the money which you once succeeded in
detaching from me,--if I trusted you with it again,--he would merely
look upon me as a hopeless fool, and I must say I think he would be
right.”
John C. Cammerford was a man whom you couldn’t insult: it was not
business to take offence, so he took none, but merely laughed again in
his free-hearted way.
“The old man thinks I don’t see what his game is, but I do. He is
playing for time. He expects to hold me out here in the East, dangling
this bait before me, until it is too late for me to do anything with my
options. Now, he is going to get left at that game. I have more cards
up my sleeve than he imagines, but I don’t want to have any trouble
with him: I want to deal with him in a friendly manner for our mutual
benefit. I’ll play fair if he plays fair. It isn’t too much to ask a
man to keep his word, is it!”
“No, the demand doesn’t appear excessive.”
“Very good. Now, I wish you would have a quiet talk with him. I can
see that he reposes great confidence in you. You have admitted that my
request is an honest one, so I hope you won’t mind just presenting my
side of the case to him.”
“It is none of my business, Mr. Cammerford. I could not venture to take
such a liberty with Mr. Hemster.”
“But you admit the old man isn’t playing fair?”
“I admit nothing of the sort: I don’t know his side of the story at
all. He may have reasons for declining to deal with you, which seem to
him conclusive.”
“Granted. But nevertheless, don’t you think he should return the money
given on the strength of his promise?”
“Really I would rather not discuss the matter any further, Mr.
Cammerford, if you don’t mind. I overheard you telling him at the head
of the companion-way that you trusted him completely. Very well, then,
why not continue to do so?”
Cammerford gave a short laugh that had little of mirth in it: his
politeness was evidently becoming worn threadbare, and I imagine he was
inwardly cursing my obstinacy. There was silence between us for several
minutes, then he said sharply:
“Is this yarn about the kidnapping of his daughter all guff?”
“Who told you about it?” I asked.
“Oh, he did: gave that as the reason he didn’t wish to talk business.”
“The story is true, and I think the reason is valid. If you take
my advice, you will not talk business with him in the face of his
prohibition until his mind is at rest regarding his daughter.”
“Well, I guess I’ll take your advice; it seems to be the only thing I’m
going to get out of you. I thought the daughter story was only a yarn
to bluff me from coming aboard the yacht.”
“It wasn’t, and furthermore, I don’t think you showed your usual
perspicacity in not accepting Mr. Hemster’s intimation that he didn’t
want to be bothered at this particular time.”
“Oh, well, as to that,” said Cammerford, confidently, “the old man has
been making a monkey of me for some weeks now, and the whole matter
might have been settled in as many hours if he had cared to do so. He
isn’t going to shake me off so easily as he thinks. I’ll stick to him
till he keeps his promise, and don’t you forget it.”
“All right, I’ll endeavour to keep it in mind.”
“You won’t be persuaded to try and lure him on to the straight and
narrow path of honesty, Mr. Tremorne?”
“No, I’m not sure that he’s off it. I have always found him treading
that path.”
“I see. Well, good-night. When do we reach that outlandish
place,--whatever its name is?”
“We ought to arrive at Chemulpo some time to-morrow night.”
“Chemulpo, is it? Well, I wish it was Chicago. So long.”
“Good-night,” I responded, and with that he left the world to darkness
and to me.