THE RYNARD GOLD REEF C’OY LTD.

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 30, 28 October 1893, Page 14

THE RYNARD GOLD REEF C’OY LTD.

(By Walter Besant). Act I. “ You dear old boy,” said the girl, **■ I am sure I wish it could be —witli all my heart —if I have any heart.” “ I don’t believe you have,” replied -the boy gloomily. “Well, but Reg, consider; you’ve got no money.” “ I’ve got five thousand pounds. If a man can’t make his way upon that, he must be a poor stick.” “ You would go abroad with it and dig, and take your wife with you—to wash and cook.” “ We would do something with the money here. You should stay in .London, Rosie. “Yes. In a suburban villa, at Shepherd’s bush, perhaps. ISo, Reg, when I marry, if ever I do—l am in no hurry —1 will step out of this room into one exactly like it.” The room was a splendid drawing-room in Palace Gardens'’ splendidly furnished. “ I shall have' rny footmen and my carriage, and 1 shall — “ Rosie, give me the right to earn all these things for you !” the young man cried impetuously. “ Yon can oidy earn them for me by the time you have one foot in the grave. Hadn't I better in the mean-

time marry some old gentleman with his one foot in the grave, so as to he ready for you against the time when you come home ? In two or three years the other foot I dare say -would slide into the grave as well.” “ You laugh at ray trouble. You feel uothing.” “ If the pater would part —hut he won’t —he says he wants all his money for himself, and that I’ve got to marry well. Besides, Reg ” —here her face clouded and she lowered her voice—“there are times when he looks anxious. We did’nt always live in Palace Gardens. Suppose we should lose it all as quickly as we got it. Oh!” she shivered and trembled. “Ho, I will never, never many a poor man. Get rich, my dear boy, and you may aspire even to the valuable possession of this heartless hand./ She held it out. He took it, pressed it, stooped and kissed her. Then he dropped her hand and walked quickly out of the room. “ Poor Reggie, she murmured. I wish —1 wish —but what is the use of ' wishing P” Act 11. Two men — one young, the other about fifty —sat in the verandah of a small bungalow. It was after breakfast. They lay hack in long bamboo, chairs, each with a cigar. It looked as if they were resting. In reality they were talking business, and that very seriously. ‘ Yes, sir,” said the elder man, with something of an American accent, “I have somehow taken a fancy to this place. The situation is health} 7 .” “Well, I don’t know; I’ve had more than one touch of fever here.” “The climate is lovely ” “ Except in the rains.” “ The soil is fertile ” “ I’ve dropped five thousand in it, and they haven’t come up again yet.” “They -will. I have been round the estate, and I see money in it. Well, sir here’s my offer: five thousand down, hard cash, as soon as the papers are signed.” Reginald sat up. He was on the point of accepting the proposal, when a pony rode up to the house, and the rider, a native groom, jumped off, and gave him a note. He opened it and read. It was from his nearest neighbour, two or three miles away : “ Don’t sell that man your estate. Gold has been found. The whole country is full of gold. Hold on. He's an assayer. If he offers to buy, be quite sure that he has found gold on your land. —F.G.” He put the note into his pocket, gave a verbal message to the hoy, and turned to his guest, without betraying the least astonishment or emotion. *“ I beg your pardon. The note was from Bellamy, my next neighbour. Well ? Yon were saying—” “Only that I have taken a fancy—perhaps a foolish fancy—to this place of yours, and I’ll give yon, if yon like, all that you have spent upon it.” “ Well,” he replied, reflectively, but with a little twinkle in his eye, “ that seems handsome. But the place isn’t really worth the half that I have spent upon it. Anybody would tell yon that. Come, let ns be honest, whatever we are. I’ll tell you a better way. We will put the matter into the hands of Bellamy. He knows what a coffee plantation is worth. He shall name a price, and if we agree upon that, we will make a deal of it.” The other man changed colour. He wanted to settle the thing at once as between gentlemen. What need of third parties ? But Reginald stood firm, and he presently rode away, quite sure that in a day or two this planter, too, would have heard the news. A month later, the young coifeeplanter stood on the deck of a steamer homeward bound. In his pocket-book was a plan of his auriferous estate, in a bag hanging round his neck was a small collection of yellow nuggets ; in his boxes was a chosen assortment of quartz, ' Act 111. “Well, sir,” said the financier, “you’ve brought this thing to me. You want my advice. Well, my advice

is, don’t fool away the only good thing that will ever happen to you. Luck such as this dosn’t come more than «once in a lifetime.” “ I have been offered ten thousand pounds for my estate.” “Oh! Have you ! Ten thousand? That was very liberal —very liberal .indeed. Ten thousand for a gold reef.” “ But I thought as an old friend of ~my father you would, perhaps —— “ Young man, don’t fool it away. He’s waiting for you, I suppose, round "the corner, with a bottle of fizz ready to close.” “ He is.” Well, go and drink his champagne. Always get whatever you can. And then tell him that you’ll see him —’ “ I certainly will, sir, if you advise it. And then ? ” “ And then —leave it to me.” And .—young man —I think I heard, a year or two ago, something about you -and my girl Rosie.” “ There was something, sir. Not to trouble you about it ” “ She told me. Rosie tells me all her love affairs.” “Is she —is she unmarried? ” “Oh yes, and for the moment I believe she is free. She has had one -or two engagements, but, somehow, they have come to nothing. There was the French Count, but that was knocked on the head very early in 'consequence of things discovered. Anri there was the Boom in Guano, but he fortunately smashed, much to Rosie’s joy, because she never liked .him. The last was Lord Evergreen. . .He was a nice old chap when you ■could understand what he said, and Rosie would have liked the .title very Tnnp.li, though bis grand-children opposed the thing. Well, sir, I suppose you couldn’t understand the trouble we took to keep that old man alive for his own wedding; 1 Sciencfe'did all it could, but ’twas of no use ” The financier sighed. “ The ways of Providence are inscrutable. He died ■■• sir, the day before.” “ That was very sad.” “ A dashing of the cup from the. lip, sir. My daughter would have been a Countess. Well, young gentleman, about this estate of your’s. I • think I see a way —I think, I am not .yet sure —that I do see a way. Go now. See this liberal gentleman, and drink his champagne. And come here in a week. Then if I still see my way, you shall understand what it means to hold the position in the City which is mine.” “ And—and —may I call on Rosie ?” “ Not till this day week, not till I have made my way plain.” Act IV. “ And so it means this. Oh, Rosie, you look lovelier than ever, and I’m as happy as a king. It means_ this. Your father is the greatest genius in the world. He buys my property for sixty thousand pounds —sixty thousand. That’s over two thousand a year for me, and he makes a company out of it with a hundred and fifty thousand capital. He says that, " taking ten thousand but of it for expenses, there will be a profit of eighty thousand. And all that he gives to you —eighty thousand, that’s three thousand a year for you; and sixty thousand, that’s two more, my dearest : Rosie. You remember what you ; said, that when you married you should step out of one room like this into another just as good ? ” “ Oh, Reggie ” —she sank upon his bosom —“ you know I never could hie -anybody but you. It s true I was -engaged to Old Lord .. Evergreen, but that was only because he had one foot jo i know —and when tne other foot went in too, just a day too soon, I actually laughed. So the pater is going to make a .company of it, is he ? ' Well, I hope he won’t put any of his own money into it, I’m sure, because of late all the companies have turned out so badly.” “ But, my child, the place is full of gold.” “ Then why did he turn it into a company, my dear boy ? And why didn’t he make you stick to it ? But . you know nothing of the City. Now, let us sit down, and talk about what

we shall do. Don’t, you ridiculous bey!” Act Y. Another house just like the first. The bride stepped out of one palace into another. With their five or six thousand a year, the young couple could just manage to make both ends meet. The husband was devoted ; the wife had everything that she could wish. Who could be happier than this pair in a nest so luxurious, their life so padded, their days so full of sunshine ? It was a year after marriage. The wife, contrary to her usual custom, was the first at breakfast. A few 1 itiers we e wa t ag for her —chiefly invitations. She opened and read them. Among them lay one addressed to her husband. Not looking at the address, she opened and read that as well: “ Dear Reginald,— l venturC'to address you as an old friend of your own and schoolfellow of your mother’s. I am a widow with four children. My husband was the vicar of your old parish —you remember him and me. I was left with a little income of about two hundred a year. Twelve months ago I was persuaded in order to double my income—a thing which seemed certain from the prospectus — to invest everything in a new and rich gold mine. Everything. And the mine has never paid anything. The Company —it is called theßynard Gold. Reef Company —is in liquida--tion because, though there is really the gold there, it costs too much to get it. I have no relatives anywhere to help me. Unless I can get assistance my children and I must go at once to-morrow into the workhouse. Yes, we are paupers. • lam ruined by the cruel lies of that prospectus, and the wickedness which deluded me, 1 and I xibt how many others, out of my money. I have been foolish, and am punished: but those people, who will punish them ? Help me, if you -can, my dear Reginald. Oh! for God’s sake, help my children and me. Help 3'our mother’s friend, your own old friend.” “This,” said Rosie, meditatively, “ is exactly the kind oi: thing to make Reggie uncomfortable. Why, it might make him unhappy all day. Better burn it.” She dropped the letter into the fire. “ He’s an impulsive, emotional nature, and he doesn’t understand the city. If people are so foolish. What a lot of fibs the pater does tell, to be sure. He’s a regular novelist-—Oh ! here you are, you lazy boy! ” “ Kiss me, Rosie.” He looked as handsome as Apollo, and as cheerful. “ I wish all the world were as happy as you and me. Heigho ! Some poor devils, I’m afraid ’’ “ Tea or coffee, Reg ? ”