Lucky Logan Finds Love

by Barbara Cartland

  It was unlike any stone he had ever seen before. He had a strange feeling, a kind of perception that was to grow very much stronger as he grew older.

  It told him there was something about the stone that was important to him.

  He put it into a drawer in his cabin and forgot about it until he arrived back in England.

  There he went shopping in London with the relative whom he was staying with.

  On an impulse he went into a jeweller’s shop and it was one where his mother had bought some of her jewellery and he had been with her when she had taken a bracelet to be mended.

  Marcus explained who he was to the assistant who had served her and was respectfully received. A chair was brought for him to sit on and then the assistant asked him,

  “What can I do for you, sir? And I very much hope your lady mother is in good health.”

  Marcus said that she was in rude health.

  Then he brought the stone he had found in Africa out of his pocket.

  “Can you tell me anything about this stone?” he enquired of the assistant.

  The man behind the counter looked at it, picked up his eyeglass and looked at it more closely. Excusing himself, he then went to speak to the Head of the firm in another room.

  Marcus looked around, thinking how pretty the jewels were and he remembered how lovely his mother had looked wearing her diamond tiara and necklace. It was at a time when his father had received a deputation of Maharajahs and their Suites.

  He saw the assistant come hurrying back.

  “I wonder, sir,” he said, “if you would step into the Private Office and meet our Chairman, who happens to be here today? He is very anxious to speak to you.”

  Marcus was surprised.

  But he followed the assistant into a small well-furnished room at the back of the shop.

  It was, although he was not aware of it at the time, where only the richest and more important customers were served.

  Two men were sitting at a long glass cabinet in which some exceptionally fine jewels were displayed.

  They both rose as Marcus entered and shook him by the hand.

  The Chairman introduced himself and added,

  “I should be extremely interested, Mr. Logan, if you would tell us where you found this remarkable stone you have brought to show us?”

  “It was on the voyage home from India,” Marcus replied.

  And because they seemed so interested, he told them how it had become attached to his woollen scarf when he had sat in the cave.

  The Chairman laughed and remarked,

  “You did inadvertently what has been done for centuries. In the deep caverns it was the custom in order to retrieve precious stones, to throw down the dead carcase of an animal, possibly a sheep, so that the diamonds would adhere to it.”

  Marcus looked at him in astonishment as he went on,

  “Eagles in their search for food would go down to tear off pieces of the meat and carry them to their nests.”

  He paused briefly,

  “The seekers for diamonds would shoo them away, dig the gems out of the fur, then leave the eagles to their meal.”

  “Diamonds?” Marcus exclaimed. “Are you telling me that the stone I have brought you is a diamond?”

  “We have, of course, had only a perfunctory glance at it before it is cut and polished,” the Chairman replied. “But I think, Mr. Logan, it is an exceedingly fine diamond! And larger than anything we have seen so far from Africa!”

  That was the beginning.

  Because the story was so fascinating, it followed Marcus Logan wherever he went.

  He was a hero at Eton, although they teased him and as he grew older, people would ask him cheerily,

  “Found any diamonds today?”

  He finished at Eton and went on to Oxford.

  During his vacations he was able to travel. He could not go very far, but he found some small gems of interest in Austria and amethysts in Scotland.

  He knew that his instinct guided him.

  As somebody said later, he could almost smell out a gem before he had even dug for it.

  After his last journey, Queen Victoria had accepted the gift of a diamond and had it added to the Imperial Crown.

  By the time Marcus Logan was twenty-nine, he was one of the most talked about men in the whole of Great Britain.

  He had amassed an enormous fortune that did not seem of particular interest to him, but he had travelled to a great number of places in the world that no one had expected would produce fine gems.

  Yet with ‘Logan’s magic touch’ they poured out a profusion of them.

  D’Arcy Rowland spoke now of some of his achievements which actually Belinda knew already. She had, like millions of other people, found the story of Lucky Logan’s discoveries very exciting. Although it might be a year or more before he was expected to reappear, the newspapers were always waiting for him.

  LOGAN’S BACK would be the headline in every newspaper.

  D’Arcy Rowland stopped enumerating Logan’s varied successes and Belinda knew that he was at last coming to the point of the story.

  She could not imagine what it would be.

  Yet she was listening and at the same time praying with all her heart that there was some way she could save her home.

  “Nobody knows,” D’Arcy Rowland began, “when Logan goes off on one of his explorations or where he is going, but I have found out from a friend of mine who is on the Stock Exchange more or less what happens.”

  He glanced at Belinda and saw that she was listening and carried on slowly,

  “First of all, either somebody informs him or he guesses, where the gems are likely to be found. He does not go himself, but sends out people he can trust and who have worked for him for some time to look at the land and to buy where he wishes to investigate.”

  “Buy?” Belinda asked, thinking it sounded very expensive.

  “I know what you are thinking,” her stepfather replied. “What Logan is seeking is to be found mainly on rocky and mountainous land which cannot be cultivated.”

  Belinda nodded, thinking that sounded reasonable.

  “They buy for him,” D’Arcy Rowland continued, “any number of acres and of course very cheaply. I guess that his agents say it is for rearing goats or for cutting down trees for timber. Anyway, no one has the slightest idea what is finally intended.”

  Belinda thought it strange, but she did not interrupt.

  “Then when Logan goes out himself,” D’Arcy Rowland said, “it is his amazing perception which tells him after only a perfunctory inspection whether he is on the right track.”

  He smiled,

  “In fact, the rumour is that sometimes there is hardly any searching or digging. He just knows where the right place is, then he leaves two or three men to look after his property and comes back to civilisation.”

  “I don’t – understand,” Belinda complained.

  “I am coming to the explanation,” her stepfather answered. “What Logan does then is to go to a finance house which is to be trusted with the exploitation of his new discovery.”

  He paused a moment,

  “Sometimes it is in the country where he has bought his new property. Sometimes he comes to the City of London. Then he floats a Company in which he takes sixty percent of the shares.”

  Belinda gave an exclamation.

  Now the story was beginning to seem clearer.

  “The moment the formation of the Company is made public, because of Logan’s fantastic reputation, the other forty percent sell like lightning – in fact, it is almost impossible to ‘get in at the bottom’.”

  Belinda drew in her breath.

  “And that is what – you want to do – Step-Papa?”

  “Of course I do!” D’Arcy Rowland replied sharply. “If I can find out the name of the place where he has discovered what he is searching for, then all I have to do is to telegraph Stock Brokers in the country where it is situated or alternatively buy
up every share I can at the London Stock Exchange.”

  Belinda looked at her stepfather before she asked quietly,

  “What – with?”

  “It is intelligent of you to ask that question, Belinda. Of course you will understand that I will have to share my discovery with somebody who can put up the money. Even so, if I can obtain the information I want, I can become a rich man overnight!”

  It all sounded to Belinda rather frightening.

  “I am told on the best authority,” D’Arcy Rowland said, “that Logan is now on his way home from abroad and should be in England in the next week or so.”

  “And that will help you?”

  “The only person who can do that is you, my dear,” D’Arcy Rowland replied.

  Belinda’s eyes opened wide.

  “I? But – how?”

  “Let me explain,” her stepfather replied. “In 1823 gold was discovered or produced for the first time in Russia. It has been contributing significantly to the world supplies since then.”

  He stopped a moment thoughtfully.

  “In fact, if it were not for the difficulty of communicating with the Russians, we should know a great deal more about the mineral resources of that country than we do now.”

  “Do you think,” Belinda said, “that Mr. Logan has been looking for – diamonds in Russia?”

  “I think he has been looking for gold,” her stepfather corrected her. “That would be a new departure for him and yet, who is likely to be more successful in finding it than he?”

  “I suppose it is quite possible that he could be as successful with gold as he has been with diamonds,” Belinda commented.

  She still could not think how this affected her until her stepfather said,

  “That is what you have to find out and I want to know it before his discovery is made public by the City financiers.”

  Belinda stared at her stepfather.

  “How can I – possibly find out – anything like that? I don’t even know – Mr. Logan.”

  “That is immaterial,” D’Arcy Rowland replied. “And actually he is Lord Logan. He inherited the title when his father died two years ago.”

  He gave a deep sigh.

  “As I have said, this is my only chance – otherwise, rather than submit to what lies ahead of me, I will put a bullet through my brain.”

  “No – no – Step-Papa! How can you say such a – thing?” Belinda cried. “And you have not – told me how I can do what you want.”

  She knew her stepfather made an effort to speak to her in the same beguiling tone as he had used before.

  “I was in Whites,” he said, “in the depths of despair, thinking it was a place I would never be able to go to in the future.”

  He smiled at her before continuing,

  “Then one of the members I was having a drink with said, not to me, but to the man next to him,

  ‘You don’t happen to know of anybody, old boy, man or woman, who speaks a number of languages, do you?’

  The man’s friend laughed before he answered,

  ‘No, I am afraid not. But why would you want anyone like that?’

  ‘It is not for me, the first man replied, ‘but for Lady Logan.’

  ‘Lady Logan!’ his friend exclaimed. ‘You don’t mean Lucky Logan’s wife? I did not know he had one.’

  ‘No, he is a bachelor,’ was the answer. ‘It is Marcus Logan’s mother who is getting old and wants a reader’.”

  “He drank some wine before he carried on,

  ‘When her son comes back from abroad, he brings her all sorts of treasures from the places where he has been looking for diamonds. But her eyesight is now so bad that she can no longer read the ancient manuscripts he brings her or the books that describe the religions and the people he has been associating with.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ the man who had asked the question replied. ‘Well, I am afraid I cannot help you, but there must be somebody in the Club who can do so.’

  They looked at me,” D’Arcy Rowland went on, “and I laughed.”

  “‘I expect,’ I said, ‘she will have to go and get some old crony out of the British Museum to help her. My languages are few and far between’.”

  He did not tell Belinda that his friend had suggested somewhat pointedly that he knew, at any rate, one language well and that was the language of love.

  “What I did discover,” D’Arcy Rowland went on, “was where Lady Logan lived. I sent her a letter which purported to come from a young woman who said she had heard what was required and was proficient in a great number of languages.”

  Belinda was still.

  “Are you saying, Step-Papa, that – this is what you are – asking me to do?”

  “I am not asking you,” D’Arcy Rowland replied, “I am begging you on my knees to go and see Lady Logan and ask her to employ you as her reader.”

  “You mean – she replied – to your – letter?”

  “I sent it with a messenger who waited for an answer. Lady Logan replied she would be delighted to see the person who had written to her as soon as it was convenient.”

  “So that is why you have come home.”

  “Exactly!” her stepfather agreed. “Before I left London I made an appointment for Miss Belinda Brown to call on Lady Logan tomorrow afternoon at three o’clock.”

  “Brown ?”Belinda questioned.

  “Of course you must not go under your own name,” her stepfather replied, “and Brown was the first one which came into my mind.”

  “I-I don’t understand,” Belinda said in bewilderment. “What am I supposed to do besides translate the manuscripts and books aloud to her?”

  “What you have to do is quite simple. You have to find out where Logan has been and if, which it will be, his search for gold has been successful.”

  “But you are not – sure that he has been – searching for gold!”

  “That is so. So that you have to also find out. If, as I suspect, it is in Russia, we can make a fortune before the shares of his new discovery go on the market and then all our troubles will all be over!”

  Belinda just stared at him.

  “How can I – possibly find out – anything like that?”

  “You have to find it out the moment he arrives,” her stepfather told her sharply. “If he says he has been to Russia, all you have to do is to discover the name of the place he has come from, then communicate it immediately to me. Then, when the story breaks and I can make a fortune before Logan himself does, you can come straight home.”

  There was silence.

  Then Belinda said,

  “What you are – asking me to do is to be – a spy! Of course I could not do such a – thing! Papa would be – horrified!”

  D’Arcy Rowland sat up straight.

  “I should have thought, although I may be mistaken, that your father would be far more horrified at the idea of your begging the cottagers in the village to give you something to eat while I fester in some filthy prison. Is that what you really want?”

  Belinda gave a little cry of horror.

  “Of – course not!”

  “There is no alternative,” her stepfather said. “If you fail – well, at least we have tried to save the sinking ship.”

  He paused before he went on,

  “If you succeed, then I can only swear to you on everything I hold sacred – which is your mother – that I will never get myself into this sort of situation again.”

  Belinda did not answer.

  After a moment D’Arcy Rowland got up and walked across the room to the window.

  He stood as he had before, looking out into the garden and he was silhouetted against the sunshine.

  Belinda looked at his broad shoulders, dark hair and narrow hips tapering down to his long legs. She knew without his saying so that he would rather die than go to prison.

  Then it was as if she could see her mother’s face looking pleadingly at her.

  She thought that there were tear
s in her beautiful grey eyes.

  She had loved D’Arcy Rowland, loved him in a different way from how she had loved her first husband.

  D’Arcy had made her happy – so happy that her laughter had filled the house.

  One could feel the vibrations of love the moment one came in through the front door.

  ‘I have to save him,’ Belinda decided and she was not thinking of herself.

  “Very well, Step-Papa,” she said, “I will do as you suggest, but if I make a mess of it, you will know that I have tried.”

  D’Arcy Rowland turned round.

  “You will? You will really do it?” he asked.

  Belinda knew from the way he spoke that he had been doubtful.

  Yet, could any woman, she wondered, refuse D’Arcy Rowland anything he asked?

  He sat down on the sofa, where he had been sitting before and in a very different tone of voice from what he had used previously, he suggested,

  “Now we have to make plans and I have a feeling that everything is going to be all right.”

  “But what are we to do in the meantime about the – servants and the – bills?” Belinda stammered.

  “I was thinking about that while I was coming here,” D’Arcy Rowland replied. “I was wondering if there is not something in the house that was not included in the inventory which your father had made when he left the house and its contents to you.”

  “But – you said it is mortgaged to – the bank.”

  “I know,” he replied, “but I am sure we can find something. Or perhaps it would not be noticed if we pawned something, which can, of course, be redeemed the moment you give me the information I need.”

  As he spoke, he did not look at her directly and Belinda knew that was what had happened to the George III silver wine cooler.

  He had doubtless taken other objects of which she was so far not yet aware.

  She felt as if she was sinking deeper and deeper into a muddy pool.

  But it was no use now to speak of principles or honesty.

  “I am – sure you can find – something,” she said.

  At the same time she felt ashamed.

  Chapter Three

  Belinda and her stepfather had a quiet and rather dismal luncheon.

  Mrs. Bates was in a flutter because she had not expected Captain Rowland to come home.