style="font-size:15px;"> “Yes; he has been down twice before.”
“Who is down there?”
“Only the man in charge of the mine.”
“Who is he?”
“Some fellow my father got hold of in connection with other mine speculations.”
“Well, wouldn’t he do?”
“Pooh! He is, I should say, out of the question.”
“At a price?”
“At a price!” Jessop started and looked keenly at the solicitor.
“Every man they say has his price, my dear Jessop. We want the kind of man I describe. You say there is no such man. I say there are in the market, and I should say this is the very chap.”
“But surely you would not bribe him to – ”
“Don’t use ugly terms. If I saw my way to make a hundred thousand pounds I should not shrink from giving a man five hundred to help me make it.”
“No, nor a thousand,” said Jessop.
“My dear boy, I would get him for five hundred if I could, but if I could not, I would go higher than you say; in fact, I would go up to ninety-five thousand sooner than lose five. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand. Anything to turn an honest penny.”
“Exactly! So now then, as soon as possible, we must begin to feel our way, so as to secure our man.”
“But if there is not such a man to be had?”
“Then we must make one.”
“Wrigley, I thought I was sharp,” said Jessop, with a peculiar smile.
“But you find there is always a sharper.”
“Was that a lapsus linguae, Wrigley?”
“If you like to call it so,” said the lawyer coldly. “But to business. Let me know the moment your brother gets back.”
“Yes, but why?”
“I am going down to see what I think of the mine.”
Chapter Ten.
The Grim Visitor
“The game’s up, then, Doctor, eh? There, man, don’t shuffle. This isn’t whist, but the game of life, and nature wins.”
The Doctor stood holding his old friend’s hand, and gazing sadly down in the fine manly face, which looked wonderfully calm and peaceful as he lay back on the white pillow.
“That’s right; don’t say medical things to me – clap-trap: you never did. We always understand each other, and I shouldn’t like it now I’m dying. For that’s it, Praed; the game’s up. I haven’t read so plainly how many trumps you held in your hand for all these years, old man, without being able to judge your face now.”
“Reed, old fellow,” said the Doctor, in a voice full of emotion, “God knows I have done my best. Let me send for – ”
“Tchah! What for?” said the old man. “You know more than he does. It’s of no use fighting against it. Nature says the works must stop soon. Very well; I shall meet it as I have met other losses in my time. Do you hear, Clive – Jessop?”
A murmur came from the other side of the bed, where the two young men were standing, and then all was still again, save the rumble of a vehicle in the street.
“It’s disappointing just now, when I had made the coup of my life, and meant to settle down in peace; but it wasn’t to be, and I’m going to meet it like a man. Clive, boy, come here.”
The young man came to the bedside and knelt down.
“Ah! I like that,” said the old father. “Good lad!” and he laid his hand gently upon his son’s head. “I’m not a grand old patriarch,” he sighed. “What, Doctor? – not talk? Yes, I must have my say now, while there’s time. Not a good old patriarch, Clive – not a religious man; made too much of a god of money; but I said my wife and sons should never know the poverty from which I had suffered, and I think it was right; but I overdid it, boy. Don’t follow my example; there’s no need. There – my blessing for what it’s worth, boy. Now go: I want Jessop.”
Clive rose, and his brother came and stood where he had knelt.
“Well,” said the dying man, in a firm voice, “I have little to say to you, Jessop. Shake hands, my boy, and God forgive you, as I do – everything.” Jessop was silent, and after a few moments the old man went on —
“I have settled everything, my lad. The Doctor here is one of my executors, and he will see that Clive does his duty by you; though he would without.”
Jessop winced, for these words were very pregnant of meaning, and showed only too well the place he would take after his father’s death.
“There,” said his father, pressing his hand, “that is all. I know your nature, boy, so I will not ask you to promise things which you cannot perform. Go now.”
“Not stay with you, father?” said the young man, speaking for the first time.
“No; go now. I’ve done my duty by you, boy; now go and do yours by your brother. Good-bye, Jessop.” There was dead silence, and the old man spoke again as he grasped his son’s hand, “Good-bye, Jessop, for the last time.”
“Good-bye, father,” was the reply; and then, with head bent, the young man walked slowly out.
“Hah! that’s over!” sighed the dying man. “He will not break his heart, Doctor; and if I had left him double, it would do him no good. Now then, Praed, I want to see little Janet. Where is she?”
“Downstairs in the drawing-room.”
“That’s right. Go and fetch her. Tell her not to be frightened. She shan’t see me die, for it won’t be yet.”
The Doctor left the bedroom, and the old man was alone with his younger son.
“Take hold of my hand, Clive. Sit down, my lad. That’s right. There, don’t look so cut up, my boy. I’m only going to sleep like a man should. It’s simply nature; not the horror fanatics teach us. Now I want to talk business to you for a few minutes, and then business and money will be dead to me for ever.”
“You wish me to do something, father?”
“Yes, boy. You will find everything in my will – you and the Doctor. He’s a good old friend, and his counsel is worth taking. Marry Janet, and make her a happy wife. She has some weaknesses, but you can mould her, my lad; and it will make her happy, and the Doctor too, for he loves you like a son.”
“Yes, father.”
“That’s good. You’re a fine, strong, clever man, Clive, but that was the dear, good, affectionate boy of twenty years ago speaking. Now then, about
