AN UNEXPECTED BLOW.
The crisis at the African fields was even more acute than had been
anticipated by the conspirators. Nothing approaching to it had ever
been known in South Africa before. Diamonds went steadily down in value
until they were selling at a price which no dealer would have believed
possible, and the sale of claims reached such a climax that men were
glad to get rid of them for the mere price of the plant and machinery
erected at them. The offices of the various dealers at Kimberley were
besieged night and day by an importunate crowd of miners, who were
willing to sell at any price in order to save something from the general
ruin which they imagined was about to come upon the industry. Some,
more long-headed or more desperate than their neighbours, continued to
work their claims and to keep the stones which they found until prices
might be better. As fresh mails came from the Cape, however, each
confirming and amplifying the ominous news, these independent workers
grew fewer and more faint-hearted, for their boys had to be paid each
week, 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 offers
would hardly induce them to give hard cash in exchange for stones which
might prove to be a drug in the market. Everywhere there was misery and
stagnation.
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 attention
to himself or his movements. In his wanderings he had come across an
outcast named Farintosh, a man who had once been a clergyman and a
master of arts of Trinity College, Dublin, but who was now a broken-down
gambler with a slender purse and a still more slender conscience.
He still retained a plausible manner and an engaging address, and these
qualities first recommended him to the notice of the young merchant.
A couple of days after the receipt of the news from Europe, Ezra sent
for this fellow and sat with him for some time on the verandah of the
hotel, talking over the situation.
"You see, Farintosh," he remarked, "it might be a false alarm, might it
not?"
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 all
doubt. My experience has taught me, however, that there is nothing so
uncertain as a certainty. That's what makes me think of speculating
over this. If I lose it won't hurt me much, and I might win. I came
out here more for the sake of seeing a little of the world than anything
else, 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 of
having a long purse and of knowing which way the wind blows. If I were
to be seen buying others would follow my lead, and prices would soon be
as 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 without
attracting much attention. Beat them down as low as you can, and give
this 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 for
their 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's
your 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 as
well."
"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 it
well. I'll go the length of thirty thousand pounds."
Farintosh was so astonished at the magnitude of the sum that he sank
back in his chair in bewilderment. "Why, sir," he said, "I think just
at present you could buy the country for that."
Ezra laughed. "We'll make it go as far as we can," he said. "Of course
you 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 picking
up his slouched hat, which he still wore somewhat broader in the brim
than his comrades, in deference to old associations, he departed upon
his mission.
Farintosh was a clever man and soon chose two active subordinates.
These were a navvy, named Burt, and Williams, a young Welshman, who had
disappeared from home behind a cloud of forged cheques, and having
changed his name had made a fresh start in life to the south of the
equator. These three worked day and night buying in stones from the
more needy and impecunious miners, to whom ready money was a matter of
absolute necessity. Farintosh bought in the stock, too, of several
small dealers whose nerves had been shaken by the panic. In this way
bag after bag was filled with diamonds by Ezra, while he himself was to
all appearances doing nothing but smoking cigars and sipping
brandy-and-water in front of the _Central Hotel_.
He was becoming somewhat uneasy in his mind as to how long the delusion
would be kept up, or how soon news might come from the Cape that the
Ural find had been examined into and had proved to be a myth. In any
case, he thought that he would be free from suspicion. Still, it might
be as well for him by that time to be upon his homeward journey, for he
knew that if by any chance the true facts leaked out there would be no
hope of mercy from the furious diggers. Hence he incited Farintosh to
greater speed, and that worthy divine with his two agents worked so
energetically that in less than a week there was little left of five and
thirty thousand pounds.
Ezra Girdlestone had shown his power of reading character when he chose
the ex-clergyman as his subordinate. It is possible, however, that the
young 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 said
cleverness may be turned against his employer the advantage becomes a
questionable one.
It was perfectly evident to Farintosh that though a stray capitalist
might risk a thousand pounds or so on a speculation of this sort,
Rothschild himself would hardly care to invest such a sum as had passed
through his hands without having some ground on which to go. Having
formed this conclusion, and having also turned over in his mind the
remarkable coincidence that the news of this discovery in Russia should
follow so very rapidly upon the visit of the junior partner of the House
of Girdlestone, the astute clergyman began to have some dim perception
of the truth. Hence he brooded a good deal as he went about his work,
and cogitated deeply in a manner which was once again distinctly
undesirable in so very intelligent a subordinate.
These broodings and cogitations culminated in a meeting, which was held
by him with his two sub-agents in the private parlour of the Digger's
Retreat. It was a low-roofed, smoke-stained room, with a profusion of
spittoons scattered over it, which, to judge by the condition of the
floor, the patrons of the establishment had taken some pains to avoid.
Round a solid, old-fashioned table in the centre of this apartment sat
Ezra'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 Hollands
upon the table, and waited for him to speak.
"Well," the ex-clergyman said at last, "the game is nearly over, and
we'll not be wanted any more. Girdlestone's off to England in a day or
two."
Burt and Williams groaned sympathetically. Work was scarce in the
diggings during the crisis, and their agencies had been paying them
well.
"Yes, he's off," Farintosh went on, glancing keenly at his companions,
"and he takes with him five and thirty thousand pounds worth of diamonds
that 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 you
are done with it. When he sells out in London and makes his pile, it
won't much matter to him that the three men who helped him are starving
in Griqualand."
"Won't he give us somethin' at partin'?" asked Burt, the navvy. He was
a savage-looking, hairy man, with a brick-coloured face and over-hanging
eyebrows. "Won't he give us nothing to remembrance him by?"
"Give you something!" Farintosh said with a sneer. "Why, man, he says
you are too well paid already."
"Does he, though?" cried the navvy, flushing even redder than nature had
made him. "Is that the way he speaks after we makes him? It ain't on
the square. I likes to see things honest an' above board betwixt man
an' 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 three
cunning, cruel faces were looking closely into one another's eyes.
"Nobody knows that he holds those stones," said Farintosh. "He's too
smart 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 from
his key while I was speaking to him."
The navvy laughed hoarsely. "If that don't lick creation for
smartness!" he cried. "And how are we to get to this safe? It would
serve him right if we collar the lot. It'll teach him that if he ain't
honest 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 his
great fist down upon the table to emphasize this commendable sentiment.
"It's not an easy matter," Farintosh said thoughtfully. "When he goes
out he locks his door, and there's no getting in at the window. There's
only one chance for us that I can see. His room is a bit cut off from
the rest of the hotel. There's a gallery of twenty feet or more that
leads to it. Now, I was thinking that if the three of us were to visit
him some evening, just to wish him luck on his journey, as it were, and
if, while we were in the room something sudden was to happen which would
knock him silly for a minute or two, we might walk off with the stones
and 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 a
greenish 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 a
violent one--belonging to the jackal tribe rather than to the tiger.
"What would knock him senseless?" Farintosh asked Burt, with a knowing
look.
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 more
cadaverous. "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-livered
hound, you're too deep in it ever to get out again. D'ye think we'll
let you spoil a lay of this sort as we might never get a chance of
again?"
"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 upon
alternately by his hopes and by his fears, Williams showed some signs of
yielding. 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't
hit him very hard, Mr. Burt?"
"Just enough to curl him up," the navvy answered. "Lord love ye, it
ain't the first man by many a one that I've laid on his back, though I
never had the chance before of fingering five and thirty thousand pounds
worth 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 up
quietly and openly, and come down quietly and openly, who is to suspect
anything? Our horses will be outside, in Woodley Street, and we'll be
out of their reach in no time. Shall we say to-morrow evening for the
job?"
"That's very early," Williams cried tremulously.
"The sooner the better," Burt said, with an oath. "And look here, young
man," fixing Williams with his bloodshot eyes, "one sign of drawing
back, and by the living jingo I'll let you have more than I'm keeping
for him. You hear me, eh?" He grasped the youth's white wrist and
squeezed 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 and
Mr. 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 such
a start as will puzzle them."
So, having arranged all the details of their little plan, these three
gentlemen departed in different directions--Farintosh to the _Central
Hotel_, to give Ezra his evening report, and the others to the
mining-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 his
back upon the diggings and begin his homeward journey. He was pining
for the pleasures of his old London life, and was weary of the
monotonous 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 diggers
discovered the manner in which they had been hoaxed. He began to pack
his boxes, therefore, and to make every preparation for his departure.
He was busily engaged in this employment upon the Wednesday evening when
there was a tap at the door and Farintosh walked in, accompanied by Burt
and Williams. Girdlestone glanced up at them, and greeted them briefly.
He was not surprised at their visit, for they had come together several
times before to report progress or make arrangements. Farintosh bowed
as he entered the room, Burt nodded, and Williams rubbed his hands
together and looked amiably bilious.
"We looked in, Mr. Girdlestone," Farintosh began, "to learn if you had
any commands for us."
"I told you before that I had not," Ezra said curtly. "I am going on
Saturday. 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 the
market 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 his
bulky 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 us
nothing to remembrance you with, seeing that we've stood by you and
never gone back on you."
"You have been paid every week for what you have done," the young man
said. "You won't get another penny out of me, so you set your mind at
rest 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 you
dare to raise your voice in my presence I'll give you the soundest
hiding that ever you had in your life."
Ezra had stood up and showed every indication of being as good as his
word.
"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 pick
up the bottle which stood on a table behind him. Quick as a flash Burt
sprang upon him and struck him down with a life-preserver. With a
gasping cry and a heavy thud Ezra fell face downwards upon the floor,
the bottle still clutched in his senseless hand, and the escaping rum
forming a horrible mixture with the blood which streamed from a great
gash in his head.
"Very neat--very pretty indeed!" cried the ex-parson, in a quiet tone of
critical satisfaction, as a connoisseur might speak of a specimen which
interested 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 not
afraid, 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 from
his 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 the
receptacle. "Here are some notes and gold. We may as well have them
too. Now, tie it up carefully. That's the way! If we meet any one on
the stairs, take it coolly. Turn that lamp out, Williams, so that if
any 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 horsemen
spurring it along the Capetown road as though their very lives depended
upon their speed. Its calm, clear rays streamed over the silent roofs
of Kimberley and in through a particular window of the _Central Hotel_,
throwing silvery patches upon the carpet, and casting strange shadows
from the figure which lay as it had fallen, huddled in an ungainly heap
upon the floor.