A Yellow God: An Idol of Africa. Генри Райдер Хаггард
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cash.”
“I must make money somehow,” he said.
“Yes, Alan, but I am afraid it is not easy to do—honestly. Nobody wants people without capital whose only stock in trade is a brief but distinguished military career, and a large experience of African fever.”
Alan groaned at this veracious but discouraging remark, and she went on quickly:
“I mean to spend another guinea upon my friend the lawyer at Kingswell. Perhaps he can raise the wind, by a post-obit, or something,” she added vaguely, “I mean a post-uncle-obit.”
“If he does, Barbara, I can’t live on your money alone, it isn’t right.”
“Oh! don’t you trouble about that, Alan. If once I can get hold of those dim thousands you will soon be able to make more, for unto him that hath shall be given. But at present they are very dim, and for all I know may be represented by stock in deceased companies. In short, the financial position is extraordinarily depressed, as they say in the Market Intelligence in The Times. But that’s no reason why we should be depressed also.”
“No, Barbara, for at any rate we have got each other.”
“Yes,” she answered, springing up, “we have got each other, dear, until Death do us part, and somehow I don’t think he’ll do that yet awhile; it comes into my heart that he won’t do that, Alan, that you and I are going to live out our days. So what does the rest matter? In two years I shall be a free woman. In fact, if the worst comes to the worst, I’ll defy them all,” and she set her little mouth like a rock, “and marry you straight away, as being over age, I can do, even if it costs me every halfpenny that I’ve got.”
“No, no,” he said, “it would be wrong, wrong to yourself and wrong to your descendants.”
“Very well, Alan, then, we will wait, or perhaps luck will come our way—why shouldn’t it? At any rate for my part I never felt so happy in my life; for, dear Alan, we have found what we were born to find, found it once and for always, and the rest is mere etceteras. What would be the use of all the gold of the Asiki people that Jeekie was talking about last night, to either of us, if we had not each other? We can get on without the wealth, but we couldn’t get on apart, or at least I couldn’t and I don’t mind saying so.”
“No, my darling, no,” he answered, turning white at the very thought, “we couldn’t get on apart—now. In fact I don’t know how I have done so so long already, except that I was always hoping that a time would come when we shouldn’t be apart. That is why I went into that infernal business, to make enough money to be able to ask you to marry me. And now I have gone out of the business and asked you just when I shouldn’t.”
“Yes, so you see you might as well have done it a year or two ago when perhaps things would have been simpler. Well, it is a fine example of the vanity of human plans, and, Alan, we must be going home to lunch. If we don’t, Sir Robert will be organizing a search party to look for us; in fact, I shouldn’t wonder if he is doing that already, in the wrong direction.”
The mention of Sir Robert Aylward’s name fell on them both like a blast of cold wind in summer, and for a while they walked in silence.
“You are afraid of that man, Barbara,” said Alan presently, guessing her thoughts.
“A little,” she answered, “so far as I can be afraid of anything any more. And you?”
“A little also. I think that he will give us trouble. He can be very malevolent and resourceful.”
“Resourceful, Alan; well, so can I. I’ll back my wits against his any day. He shan’t separate us by anything short of murder, which he won’t go in for. Men like that don’t like to break the law; they have too much to lose. But no doubt he will make things uncomfortable for you, if he can, for several reasons.”
Again they walked on lost in reflections, when Barbara suddenly saw her lover’s face brighten.
“What is it, Alan?” she asked.
“Something that is rare enough with me, Barbara—an idea. You remember speaking about that Asiki gold just now. Well, why shouldn’t I go and get it?”
She stared at him.
“It sounds a little speculative,” she said; “something like one of my uncle’s companies.”
“Not half so speculative as you think. I have no doubt it is there and Jeekie knows the way. Also I seem to remember that there is a map and an account of the whole thing in Uncle Austin’s diaries, though to tell you the truth the old fellow wrote such a fearful hand, that I have never taken the trouble to read it. You see,” he went on with enthusiasm, “it is the kind of business that I can do. I am thoroughly salted to fever, I know the West Coast, where I spent three years on that Boundary Commission, I have studied the natives and can talk several of their dialects. Of course there would be a risk, but there are risks in everything, and like you I am not afraid about that, for I believe that we have got our lives before us.”
“Read up those diaries, Alan, and we will talk the thing over again. I’ll pump Jeekie, who will tell me anything by coaxing, and try to get at the truth. Meanwhile what are you going to do about my uncle?”
“Speak to him, of course, and have the row over.”
“Yes,” she answered, “that is the best and the most honest. Of course he can turn you out, but he can’t prevent my seeing you. If he does, go home to Yarleys and I’ll come over and call. Here we are, let us go in by the back door,” and she pointed to her crushed hat, and laughed.
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