Young Blood

by E. W. Hornung

  CHAPTER II.

  THE BREAKING OF THE NEWS.

  Harry was in three minds in as many seconds: he would hide, he wouldrush out and learn the truth, he would first see who it was that hadfollowed him at such an hour. The last impulse prevailed, and the studywas the room from which to peep. Harry crept in on tiptoe, past thebookshelves eloquently bare, to the bow-window with the drawn Venetianblinds. Slightly raising one of the laths, he could see everything asthe cab drew up at the steps.

  The cab-door was flung open and out sprang an utter stranger to HarryRingrose. This was a middle-aged man of the medium height, wearing asomewhat shabby tall hat and a frock-coat which shone unduly in thestrong sunlight. He had a fresh complexion, a reddish moustachestreaked with grey, a sharp-pointed nose, and a very deep chin whichneeded shaving; but what struck Harry first and last were the keen,decisive eyes, twinkling behind glasses with gold rims, which wentstraight to the broken window and surveyed it critically before theirowner had set foot on the steps. It seemed that the cabman saw it tooand made some remark; for the fare turned upon him, paid him andslammed his door, and ordered him off in a very peremptory voice whichHarry heard distinctly. The cab turned in the sweep and disappearedamong the trees. Then the stranger came slowly up the steps, with hiseyes once more fixed upon the broken window. In another moment they hadrun like lightning over the face of the house, and, before Harry hadtime to move, had met his own.

  The stranger raised his eyebrows, shook his head, and pointed to thefront door. Harry went to it, shot the bolts back, turned the key, andflung the door wide open. He was trembling now with simple terror. Histongue would not ask what had happened. It was like standing to beshot, and having to give the signal to the firing party.

  The other seemed to feel it almost equally: his fresh face was pale,and his quick eyes still with sorrow and compunction. It was evident heknew the worst. If only he would tell it unasked!

  "My name is Lowndes," he began at last. "Gordon Lowndes--you must haveheard of me?"

  "I--I don't remember it," stammered Harry at the second attempt.

  "I stayed here several times while you were in Africa. I was here inFebruary."

  "Yes, now I remember your name: it was in the last letter I had."

  He could say this calmly; and yet his lips could not frame the questionwhose answer would indeed be life or death.

  "Two years ago I did not know your people," resumed the other. "But fortwo years I have been their most intimate friend."

  "Tell me," at length whispered Harry: "is--either of them--dead?" Andhe awaited the worst with a sudden fortitude.

  Mr. Lowndes shook his head.

  "Not that I know of," said he.

  "Thank God!" the boy burst out, with the first break in his voice."Nothing else matters--nothing--nothing! I made sure it was that! Canyou swear that my father is all right?"

  The other winced. "To the best of my knowledge," said he almostsharply.

  "And my mother?"

  "Yes, yes, I was with her three days ago."

  "Where?"

  "In London."

  "London! And I passed through London last night! You saw her, you say,three days ago, and she was all right then?"

  "I never knew her look better."

  "Then tell me the worst and let us have it over! I can see that we havelost our money--but that doesn't matter. Nothing matters if they areall right; won't you come in, sir, and tell me all?"

  Harry did not know it, for in his deep emotion he had lost sight ofself; but there was something infinitely touching in the way the youngman stood aside and ushered his senior into the hall as though it werestill his home. Mr. Lowndes shook his head at the unconscious air, andhe entered slowly, with it bent. Harry shut the doors behind them, andthey turned into the first room. It was the room with the emptybookshelves; and it still smelt of Harry's father's cheroots.

  "You may wonder at my turning up like this," said Lowndes; "but forthose fools at the shipping-office I should have met you at the docks.I undertook to do so, and to break the news to you there."

  "But how could you know my ship?"

  The other smiled.

  "Cable," said he; "that was a very simple matter. But if your shippingfellows hadn't sworn you'd be reported from the Lizard, in lots of timefor me to get up from Scotland to meet you, I should never have rundown there as I was induced to do on business the night before last. Ishould have let the business slide. As it was the telegram reached melast night in Glasgow, when I knew it was too late to keep you out ofthis. Still, I timed myself to get here five minutes before you, andshould have done it if my train hadn't been forty minutes late. It--itmust have been the devil's own quarter-of-an-hour for you, Ringrose!Have a drop of this before we go on; it'll do you good."

  He took a flask from his pocket and half filled the cup with rawwhisky, which Harry seized gratefully and drained at a gulp. In truth,the shock of the morning, after the night's excitement, had left himmiserably faint. The spirit revived him a little.

  "You are very kind to me," he said, returning the cup. "You must be agreat friend of my parents for them to give you this job, and a goodfriend to take it on! Now, if you please, tell me every mortal thing;you will tell me nothing I cannot bear; but I am sure you are too kindto keep anything back."

  Lowndes was gazing with a shrewd approval upon the plucky young fellow,in whom, indeed, disappointment and disaster had so far awakened onlywhat was best. At the last words, however, the quick eyes fell behindthe gold-rimmed glasses in a way that made Harry wonder whether he hadindeed been told the worst. And yet there was already more than enoughto account for the other's embarrassment; and he determined not to addto it by unnecessary or by impatient questions.

  "You are doubtless aware," began Lowndes, "that the iron trade in thiscountry has long been going from bad to worse? You have heard of thebad times, I imagine, before to-day?"

  Harry nodded: he had heard of the bad times as long as he couldremember. But because the happy conditions of his own boyhood had notbeen affected by the cry, he had believed that it was nothing else. Hewas punished now.

  "The times," proceeded Lowndes, "have probably been bad since yourchildhood. How old are you now?"

  "Twenty-one to-day."

  "To-day!"

  "Go on," said Harry, hoarsely. "Don't be sorry for me. I deserve verylittle sympathy." His hands were in the pockets he had wilfully emptiedof every coin.

  "When you were five years old," continued Lowndes, "the pig-iron yourfather made fetched over five pounds a ton; before you were seven itwas down to two-pounds-ten; it never picked up again; and for the lastten years it hasn't averaged two pounds. Shall I tell you what thatmeans? For these ten years your father has been losing a few shillingson every ton of pig-iron produced--a few hundred pounds every week ofhis life!"

  "And I was enjoying myself at school, and now in Africa! Oh," groanedHarry Ringrose, "go on, go on; but don't waste any pity on me."

  "You may be a very rich man, but that sort of thing can't last forever. The end is bound to come, and in your father's case it came,practically speaking, several years ago."

  "Several years? I don't follow you. He never failed?"

  "It would have been better for you all if he had. You have looked uponthis place as your own, I suppose, from as far back as you can rememberdown to this morning?"

  "As my father's own--decidedly."

  "It has belonged to his bankers for at least five years."

  "How do you know?" cried Harry hotly.

  "He told me himself, when I first came down here, now eighteen monthsago. We met in London, and he asked me down. I was in hopes we might dobusiness together; but it was no go."

  "What sort of business?"

  "I wanted him to turn the whole thing into a Limited LiabilityCompany," said Gordon Lowndes, reeling off the last three words asthough he knew them better than his own name; "I mean those uselessblast-furnaces! What good were they doing? None at all. Three bob a tonon
the wrong side! That's all the good they'd done for years, andthat's all they were likely to do till times changed. Times never willchange--to what they were when you were breeched--but that's a detail.Your father's name down here was as sweet as honey. All he'd got to dowas to start an extra carriage or two, put up for Parliament on thewinning side, and turn his works into a Limited Liability Company. I'dhave promoted it. I'd have seen it through in town. The best men wouldhave gone on the board, and we'd have done the bank so well in sharesthat they wouldn't have got out of it if they could. We'd have made aspanking good thing of it if only the governor would have listened toreason. He wouldn't; said he'd rather go down with the ship than let ina lot of shareholders. 'Damn the shareholders!' says I. 'Why count theodds in the day of battle?' It's the biggest mistake you can make,Ringrose, and your governor kept on making it! It was in this veryroom, and he was quite angry with me. He wouldn't let me say anotherword. And what happens? A year or so later--this last February--hewires me to come down at once. Of course I came, but it was as Ithought: the bank's sick of it, and threatens to foreclose. I went tosee them; not a bit of good. Roughly speaking, it was a case of eitherpaying off half the mortgage and reconstructing the whole bag oftricks, or going through the courts to beggary. Twenty thousand was theround figure; and I said I'd raise it if it was to be raised."

  This speech had barely occupied a minute, so rapidly was it spoken; andthere was much of it which Harry, in his utter ignorance of all suchmatters, would have found difficult to follow at a much slower rate ofutterance. As it was, however, it filled him with distrust of hisfather's friend, who, on his own showing, had made some proposaldishonourable in the eyes of a high-principled man. Moreover, it cameinstinctively to Harry that he had caught a first glimpse of the realGordon Lowndes, with his cunning eyes flashing behind his _pince-nez_,the gestures of a stump orator, and this stream of unintelligiblejargon gushing from his lips. The last sentences, however, were plainenough even to Harry's understanding.

  "You said you'd raise it," he repeated dryly; "yet you can't have doneso."

  "I raised ten thousand."

  "Only half; well?"

  "It was no use."

  "My father would refuse to touch it?"

  "N-no."

  "Then what did he do?"

  Lowndes drew back a pace, saying nothing, but watching the boy withtwitching eyelids.

  "Come, sir, speak out!" cried Harry, "He will tell me himself, youknow, when I get back to London."

  "He is not there."

  "You said he was!"

  "I said your mother was."

  "Where is my father, then?"

  "On the Continent--we think."

  "You think? And the--ten thousand pounds?"

  "He has it with him," said Lowndes, in a low voice. "I'm sorry to sayhe--bolted with the lot!"