Daddy's Girl Part 45

"It is a considerable sum to withdraw at once, but as it is not on deposit you can have it."

"I thought it only fair to give you a few hours' notice. I shall call for it to-morrow about ten o'clock."

"Do you wish to take it in a cheque?"

"I think not, I should prefer notes." Ogilvie added a few more words, and then went back to his own house.

At last everything was in train. He uttered a sigh of relief. The house looked gloomy and dismantled, but for that very reason it suited his feelings. Some of the furniture had been removed to Silverbel, and the place was dusty. His study in particular looked forbidding, some ashes from the last fire ever made there still remained in the grate.

He wondered if anyone had ever entered the study since he last sat there and struggled with temptation and yielded to it.

He went up to his own room, which had been hastily prepared for him, and looked around him in a forlorn way. He then quickly mounted another flight of stairs, and found himself at last in the room where his little daughter used to sleep. The moment he entered this room he was conscious of a sensation of comfort. The worldliness of all the rest of the house fell away in this sweet, simply furnished chamber.

He sat down near the little empty bed, pressed his hand over his eyes, and gave himself up to thought.

n.o.body knew how long he sat there. The caretaker and his wife took no notice. They were busy down in the kitchen. It mattered nothing at all to them whether Ogilvie were in the house or not. He breathed a conscious sigh of relief. He was glad to be alone, and the spirit of his little daughter seemed close to him. He had something hard to go through, and terrible agony would be his as he accomplished his task.

He knew that he should have to walk through fire, and the fire would not be brief nor quickly over. Step by step his wounded feet must tread. By no other road was there redemption. He did not s.h.i.+rk the inevitable. On the contrary, his mind was made up.

"By no other road can I clasp her hand in the Eternity which lies beyond this present life," he thought. "I deserve the pain and the shame, I deserve all. There are times when a man comes face to face with G.o.d. It is fearful when his G.o.d is angry with him. My G.o.d is angry--the pains of h.e.l.l take hold of me."

He walked to the window and looked out. It is doubtful if he saw much.

Suddenly beside the little empty bed he fell on his knees, buried his face in his hands and a sob rose to his throat.

On the following day, shortly before one o'clock, the directors of the Lombard Deeps Company a.s.sembled in one of the big rooms of the Cannon Street Hotel. Lord Grayleigh, the Chairman, had not yet arrived. The rest of the directors sat around a long, green baize table and talked eagerly one to the other. They formed a notable gathering, including many of the astutest financiers in the city. As they sat and waited for Grayleigh to appear, they eagerly discussed the prospects of the new venture. While they talked their spirits rose, and had any outside spectator been present he would have guessed that they had already made up their minds to an enormous success.

Just on the stroke of one Grayleigh, carrying a roll of doc.u.ments in his hand, entered the room. There was a lull in the conversation as he nodded to one and another of his acquaintances, went quickly up the room and took his seat at the head of the table. Here he arranged his papers and held a short consultation with the secretary, a tall man of about fifty years of age. There was a short pause and then Lord Grayleigh rose to his feet.

"Gentlemen," he began, "although, as you know, I have been and am still chairman of several companies, I can say without hesitation that never have I presided at a meeting of the directors of any company before which had such brilliant prospects. It is my firm conviction, and I hope to impress you all with a similar feeling, that the Lombard Deeps Mining Company has a great career before it."

Expressions of satisfaction rose from one or two present.

Lord Grayleigh proceeded: "This I can frankly say is largely due to our having secured the services of Mr. Philip Ogilvie as our a.s.sayer, but I regret to have to tell you all that, although he has returned to England, he is not likely to be present to-day. A very serious domestic calamity which ought to claim your deepest sympathy is the cause of his absence, but his report in detail I shall now have the pleasure of submitting to you."

Here Lord Grayleigh took up the doc.u.ment which had been signed by Ogilvie and Rycroft at the Waharoo Hotel at Brisbane. He proceeded to read it aloud, emphasizing the words which spoke of the value of the veins of gold beneath the alluvial deposit.

"This report," he said in conclusion, "is vouched for by the signatures of my friend Ogilvie and also by James Rycroft, who is nearly as well known in Queensland as Ogilvie is in London."

As detail after detail of the brilliantly worded doc.u.ment which Ogilvie and Rycroft had compounded with such skill, fell upon the ears of Lord Grayleigh's audience, satisfaction not unmixed with avarice lit up the eyes of many. Accustomed as most of these men were to a.s.sayers' reports, what they now listened to unfeignedly astonished them. There was a great silence in the room, and not the slightest word from Lord Grayleigh's clear voice was lost.

When he had finished he laid the doc.u.ment on the table and was just about, as he expressed it, to proceed to business when a movement at the door caused all to turn their heads. Ogilvie had unexpectedly entered the room.

Cries of welcome greeted him and many hands were stretched out. He contented himself, however, with bowing slightly, and going up the room handed Lord Grayleigh a packet.

"Don't open it now," he said in a low voice, "it is for yourself, and carries its own explanation with it."

He then turned and faced the directors. There was something about his demeanor and an indescribable look on his face, which caused the murmurs of applause to die away and silence once more to fill the room.

Lord Grayleigh slipped the small packet into his pocket and also rose to his feet.

Ogilvie's att.i.tude and manner disturbed him. A sensation as though of coming calamity seemed to weigh the air. Lord Grayleigh was the first to speak.

"We are all glad to welcome you back, Ogilvie," he said. "In more senses than one we are pleased that you are able to be present just now. I have just been reading your report to these gentlemen. I had finished it when you entered the room."

"It is an admirable and brilliant account of the mine, Mr. Ogilvie,"

said a director from the far end of the table. "I congratulate you not only on the good news it contains, but on the excellent manner in which you have put details together. The Lombard Deeps will be the best thing in the market, and we shall not need for capital to work the mine to the fullest extent."

"Will you permit me to look at my report for a moment, Lord Grayleigh?" said Ogilvie, in a grave tone.

Grayleigh gave it to him. Ogilvie took it in his hand.

"I have come here to-day," he said, "to speak for a moment"--his voice was husky; he cleared his throat, and went on--"to perform a painful business, to set wrong right. I am prepared, gentlemen, for your opprobrium. You think well of me now, you will not do so long. I have come here to speak to you of that----"

"Sit down," said Grayleigh's voice behind him. "You must be mad.

Remember yourself." He laid his hand on Ogilvie's arm. Ogilvie shook it off.

"I can tell you, gentlemen, what I have come to say in a few words,"

he continued. "This report which I drew up, and which I signed, is as _false as h.e.l.l_."

"False?" echoed a voice in the distance, a thin voice from a foreign-looking man. "Impossible!"

"It is false," continued Ogilvie. "I wrote the report and I ought to know. I spent three weeks at the Lombard Deeps Mine. There were no rich veins of gold; there was a certain alluvial deposit, which for a time, a few months, might yield five ounces to the ton. I wrote the report for a motive which no longer exists. G.o.d Himself smote me for my infamous work. Gentlemen, you can do with me exactly as you think fit, but this report, signed by me, shall never go before the world."

As he said the last words he hastily tore away his own signature, crushed it in his hands and, crossing the room, threw it into a small fire which was burning in the grate.

This action was the signal for great excitement on the part of most of the directors. Others poured out floods of questions. Lord Grayleigh alone remained quietly seated in his chair, but his face was white, and for the time he was scarcely conscious of what he was doing.

"I have no excuse to offer," continued Ogilvie, "and I refuse to inculpate anyone with myself in this matter. This was my own concern; I thought out the report, I worded it, I signed it. Rycroft was more or less my tool. In the moment of my so-called victory G.o.d smote me.

You can do with me just as you please, but the Lombard Deeps Company must collapse. I have nothing further to say."

He left the room, dropping the now worthless doc.u.ment on to the table as he did so. No one interrupted him or prevented his exit. As his footsteps died away on the stairs the discomfited and astonished directors looked one at the other.

"What is the meaning of it all?" said one, going up to Grayleigh; "you are chairman, and you ought to know."

Grayleigh shook himself and stood up.

"This must be a brief madness," he said; "there is no other way to account for it. Ogilvie, of all men under the sun! Gentlemen, you know his character, you know what his name was worth as our engineer, but there is one other thing you do not know. The poor fellow has a child, only one, to whom he is devoted. I heard this morning that the child is dying. Under such circ.u.mstances his mind may have been unhinged.

Let me follow him. I will return after I have said a word to him."

The chairman left the room, ran quickly downstairs and out into the street. Ogilvie had hailed a hansom and was getting into it.

"One moment first," said Grayleigh.

"What do you want?" asked Ogilvie.

"An explanation."

"I gave it upstairs."

"You are mad--you are mad."