THE GREAT SIR MARCUS
The appointment was at the Semiramis Hotel, where Sir Marcus Lark was
staying. I went with my mind an aching void, and my heart a cold boiled
potato. I can think of nothing more disagreeable! For not a word more
would Fenton let drop as to the great man's business with us or the
Mountain of the Golden Pyramid.
I sent up my card, and a few minutes later was shown into a private
salon more appropriate to a beautiful young duchess than to a middle-aged,
bumptious financier. It was pale green and white, full of lilies
and fragrance, and an immense French window opened out upon a roofed
loggia overlooking the Nile. This would have been the ideal environment
for our Gilded Rose; and I felt more venomous than before, if possible,
toward the rich bounder who posed against such an unsuitable
background. I thought, as the door of the salon was opened for me by
the smart Arab servant, that the room was untenanted, and that Sir
Marcus Lark meant to keep me waiting; but there he was, on the balcony,
gazing in rapture at the shining river. As if he were capable of
raptures, he, an earth-bound worm! But there was no mistaking that
back, those shoulders, or the face, as the big body turned. He advanced
through the open window, holding out a hand as big as a steak. He was
exactly like his photograph, except that there was even more of him
than I had been led to expect. The pretty room was net small, but
entering, he seemed to turn it into a doll's house parlour. "Six foot
two, if he's an inch!" I said to myself, longing to play David to his
Goliath. "Big, rich, common brute!" I thought. "You snatch our mountain
out of our mouths, and then you send for us as if we were servants--men
whose boots you ought to be blacking!" I was vindictive. I stared him
straight between the eyes--where a stone from David's sling would have
fitted in neatly.
The eyes were wide apart, and kinder than in the photographs. They were
even curiously innocent, and boyish. His grin of greeting made the
large, waxed black moustache point joyously up. He showed teeth white
as a child's, and had dimples--actually dimples--in his big cheeks, to
say nothing of the one in his chin, with which snapshots had
familiarized me. He looked like a huge, overgrown schoolboy with a
corked moustache. My glare faded in the light of his smile. No man with
a gleam of humour could have kept a mask of grimness. I found my hand
enveloped in the pound of steak, and warmly shaken up and down inside
it.
"Lord Ernest Borrow, I'm delighted to see you. Very good of you to
come, I'm sure!" to David quoth Goliath, in a big voice, mellow despite
a slight Cockney accent. "Nice view I've treated myself to here, what?
I'm in Egypt on business, but I like to have pretty things around me
--pleasant colours and flowers and a view. That's a specialty of mine.
I'm great on specializing. And that brings me to what we have in
common; a scheme of yours; a scheme of mine."
I wanted to detest the man, but somehow couldn't. To hate him would be
hating an overpowering force, like heat, or electricity.
With an old-fashioned politeness he made me sit down, picking out my
chair, the most comfortable in the room, then taking the next best for
himself. He fitted into it as tightly as a ripe plum into its skin, and
talked with one leg crossed over the other and swinging, the points of
his brown fingers joined. I was glad they were brown.
"I'm afraid you're sore with me," he began, having ordered coffee and
liqueurs, and forced upon his guest a cigar as big as a sausage. "I've
got what you and your friend wanted; and I'm going to be frank with you
as I've been with him, and admit that I got it because you did want it.
Simply and solely for that reason and nothing else. He told you this?"
"He left the telling to you," I said, wondering why I wasn't more
furious than curious. But it was the other way round.
"Good egg! He promised he would, and he looks the sort of chap to keep
his promise. Well, I see you want me to get down to business, and I
will. I'm going to lay all my cards on the table. I came here to Egypt
for the first time in my life, to see a scheme through, and I landed on
the scene in time to find that I was likely to fail. I haven't told any
one else that, but your friend Fenton; for I never have made a business
failure yet, and I don't mean to now if I can help it. The scheme had
to be saved in a hurry if it could be saved at all; and when I set my
wits to work I saw that I must get hold of some such young men as you
and Captain Fenton to help me. I don't know how the thought of you two
popped into my head, but I suppose it was seeing a lot of stuff about
Fenton in the papers, his Balkan adventure, and the announcement that
he'd been recalled to his regiment. There were paragraphs about him as
a linguist, and an Egyptologist, and anecdotes of him as a smart
soldier. You know the sort of thing. And the stories about his
parentage caught my fancy a bit. They're romantic. I've got enough
romance in me to see that side of life, and to know how it goes down
with the women. This scheme of mine depends on women. Most schemes do.
At the same time the Egyptian papers were printing paragraphs about
Lord Ernest Borrow. I don't know whether you're aware of that or not?
No? Would you like to see 'em? I've had my secretary cut 'em out--and
the Fenton stuff, too. The minute this idea began to wiggle in my mind
like a tadpole in water, I kept everything."
"Don't trouble about the paragraphs, thanks," I said.
"All right. It will save our time not to. But your wish to go in with
your friend, for the rights of excavating in the Sudan, was mentioned,
and the delay on account of alleged interference with Garstang's
pitch."
"By Jove, I wonder how the reporters got onto that?" I couldn't help
exclaiming.
"It's their livelihood to get onto everything. 'Well then,' I said to
myself, 'Here's my chance, my only one. I want those two young men.
They're the right combination nation for me, to give real distinction
to my undertaking. I have money, but they ain't the sort you can buy
with money. There must be an incentive. If I get what they want,
perhaps I can get _them_.' So I went into the job tooth and nail.
Neither you nor Fenton was on the spot. I was--very much on it. Nothing
was definitely fixed up between the Government and Fenton for the right
to excavate at the Mountain of the Golden Pyramid, as they call the
little old molehill, and I scored. Now, if you two will do what I want,
you can have your mountain, and whatever you find you can keep. You're
worth more to me than any beads and broken-nosed statues under the sand
of Egypt. I think I've made some impression on your friend. He may be
inclined to go in with me, if you will. He's explained that in any case
he can't use his own name, on account of his position in the army and
so on. That's a disappointment to me, but I'll put up with it for the
sake of his accomplishments and his looks. Your name alone will carry
the necessary weight as a leader."
"You're very flattering," said I. "But I'm in the dark."
"I'm going to put you wise, as Americans say. My scheme was--and is--to
be a rival _de luxe_ of Cook on the Nile. Not only that, but all over
the near East. You've heard, of course, about my buying the Marquis of
Redruth's yacht _Candace,_ on his bankruptcy--the second biggest, and
the most up-to-date yacht in the world--and turning her into a pleasure
cruiser for the Mediterranean?"
"If I've heard, I'm afraid my memory's treacherous," said I, glad to
show how unimportant to me were the schemes of financiers, but
interested in the yacht's name, which carried my thoughts away to
Meröe.
"Great Scout! And I've spent two thousand in advertising! I've taken
whole pages of London and Continental papers!"
"I never read advertisements if I can help it, except of new patents in
razors. They're a fad of mine."
"Thank goodness you've got fads. Then we've something in common. I make
money out of my fads. I call 'em inspirations. I thought the _Candace_
business was one of my inspirations, and that I'd have some fun out of
it. I advertised her to start on her first pleasure cruise from
Marseilles to Gib, Algiers, Tangier, Tunis, Greece, Alexandria, and
Jaffa. 'That'll be a smack in the eye for the big liners,' I said to
myself. 'I'll skim the top layer of clotted cream off their passenger
lists!' I was going to do the thing _de luxe_ straight through--bid for
the swell set, exclusiveness my motto. Of course I didn't expect to hit
the dukes and dollar kings first shot, but I thought if everything went
right the passengers would tell their friends at home how much better
we did them on board than any one else had ever done, and we'd get a
'snowball' ad, that nothing could stop. All would have worked out first
rate, if I hadn't made one mistake. I engaged a retired army colonel
for a conductor on board my yacht. I got the man cheap. But I was a
fool to economize on him. I ought to have launched out on a belted
earl. Folks, especially Americans, don't like retired colonels. The
woods are full of 'em over there, crawling with 'em. Most Americans are
colonels and not retired. Besides, this chap of mine's no good anyhow
--fancies himself as a politician, and is a first-class snob; has no
tact; rubs up the passengers the wrong way, and outrages their
feelings. We got a lot of people from the north of England, rich and a
bit crude, like me. Will you believe it, Colonel Corkran began his job
by sneering audibly at 'provincials' to some beastly friend of his,
come to see him off at Marseilles? Instead of making his dinner-table
lectures a kind of travellogue as he was hired to do, he turns 'em into
political tirades, and calls the Liberals scoundrels, half of our folks
being red-hot Rads. Not only that, if the girls and boys talk while the
band's playin' any of his favourite airs, he hisses out 'Silence,'
through a hole in his mouth where one tooth's missin'. That tooth bein'
gone, has got on the girls' nerves worse than anything else, it would
seem, except his being down on Suffragettes. And the crisis was reached
when he insulted Miss Hassett Bean, the richest and most important
woman in the bunch, when she expressed her political opinions. Said to
her, 'My dear lady, why do you bother to have opinions? They give you a
lot of trouble to collect, and nobody else will trouble to listen. Why
not collect insects or stamps instead?' Of course she did think Germany
had already invaded England with a large army of soldiers disguised as
hotel waiters, which was calculated to rile an old officer; but that's
no excuse for a man who's paid to please. And now the fellow's
wondering why he's not popular with the passengers!"
I laughed, but Sir Walter had worked himself into a state past smiling
point. "It's no laughing matter," he said, "This snob Corkran's killing
my scheme. There's a plot on foot for the party to walk off the yacht
at Alexandria, and demand half their passage money. Some old grampus on
board has started the story that the _Candace_ has been down three
times------"
"A lie, of course," I soothed him.
"A dastardly lie. She's been down only twice. The first time was a
collision, the second a coincidence."
"But I thought she was the most up-to-date yacht in the world!"
"So she is, as the _Candace._ That was the Marquis's name for her: gave
it after a trip to Egypt. He bought her second hand, and rechristened
her while she was being redecorated. He spared no expense, which he
could well afford, seeing that he never paid a penny. I got her at cost
price, as you may say. But these plotters are going to claim that they
were inveigled on board under false pretences, by my advertising the
_Candace_ as the newest thing in yachts. I've had a letter and several
cypher telegrams from the assistant conductor, a useful chap, telling
me the whole story of the plot, which he's nosed out; and I'm faced
with humiliating failure unless I can save the situation by a grand
coup at the eleventh hour. Now, you can guess why on the spur of the
moment I bought up your rights to dig in the Sudan, can't you?"
"I confess I can't," I said.
"Why, I want you to take Colonel Corkran's place on the _Candace_ as
conductor. And I want you and your friend Fenton to go up Nile in
charge of the splendid steam dahabeah I've bought to supplement the
Mediterranean trip. There you have my motives in a nutshell!"
I burst out laughing. "A cracked nutshell," I remarked. Sir Marcus'
rosy face turned royal purple. "What--you won't undertake it?"
"I couldn't," I assured him. "For one thing, I'd be a fish out of
water. My dear sir, perhaps you don't know that my nickname since the
age of five has been 'Duffer?' I'm proud of it. I take pains to live up
to it----"
"I bet you do. I bet it opens doors and lays down velvet carpets for
you. Why, a duffer with a title is exactly what I want! Duffers are the
rage nowadays. You and your friend will make a brilliant pair, a fine
contrast, especially with your friend's present get up. If you'd both
been born for me you couldn't suit me better."
I laughed again. "You said you ought to have launched out on belted
earls. We're humble----"
"There's no earls handy, and if there were any, they wouldn't be what
you two are in looks and talents, to say nothing of your brother being
a marquis. I'm offering you both the softest kind of job. All you have
to do is to be agreeable young gentlemen, with a knowledge of society,
and history; that means, you can be yourselves. You get a fine trip on
high salaries if you don't scorn to accept my money; and as a reward
for a good holiday you receive the right to explore your golden
mountain. I suppose you must think it _is_ a golden mountain, or you
wouldn't be such nuts on it. You'd better consult your friend before
you refuse my offer, anyhow."
"Haven't you heard that Fenton's left Cairo?" I took the precaution to
ask. "That doesn't look as if he were entertaining the idea of going up
the Nile on your steam dahabeah." "I have heard that he's left. But I
happen to know--it isn't so. I saw him standing in front of Shepheard's
Hotel this morning, waiting for you. I got on to what was in that green
turban before the pretty girl in white--Miss Gilder, I've found out
since--called him on to the terrace. Don't look as if you wanted to eat
me, Lord Ernest. I've won my way up from the bottom rung of the ladder
by keeping my eyes open, and by putting two and two together. I
specialize on that. I don't suppose there's another man in Cairo except
me and you, would have recognized Fenton, so you needn't worry. I
twigged that he'd dressed up for serious business, not for fun, because
I read about some smart coups he'd brought off by going among the
natives like one of themselves. I'm not a sneak, and I shan't revenge
myself by giving him away, even if you two do show me the frozen face.
Captain Fenton encouraged me to think he might consider my proposition
if you would, though he refused to influence your decision one way or
the other. Naturally I conclude that he could be on my Nile boat if he
wanted to, even if not in his own capacity as an officer. I'll take him
in his green turban. He makes the best looking Egyptian I ever saw, and
he'd go down with the ladies like hot cakes."
"Sir Marcus," I smiled, "you're one of the most amusing as well as the
sharpest men, if you'll allow me to say so, that I ever met. Whatever
happens I shall not forget this conversation."
"I don't want you to forget it," he grinned, beginning to hope. "Think
it over. We're the chance of a lifetime for each other. And remember
the Mountain of the Golden Pyramid." I rose, and he got up heavily.
"When will you let me know?" he asked.
I was tempted to reply that he must have taken Fenton's seeming
encouragement too seriously, that, mountain or no mountain, it was
practically impossible for us to accept his amazing proposition. But
suddenly I seemed to hear "Antoun Effendi" telling Miss Gilder that she
must wait for his decision until evening. He had said afterward, also,
that it depended on me. It was evident that he had a scheme of his own,
worked by wheels within wheels. He had consoled me after the first blow
by saying that all was not lost. And I had four months' leave from
duty. A lot could be done in four months. "I will let you know before
night," I said to Sir Marcus Lark.