Part 20 (2/2)
”Possibly not, possibly not. I wouldn't bother about the matter. Ah! I see Bransom's have sent you your pa.s.s-book! Sit down, Brown. I hate to see a man fidgeting about--I paid in that amount yesterday on a second thought. It is enough--eh?”
Brown's jackal eyes contracted. Perhaps he could get more out of De Bac? But a look at the strong impa.s.sive face before him frightened him.
”More than enough, sir,” he stammered; and then, with a rush, ”I am grateful--anything I can do for you?”
”Oh! I know, I know, Brown--by the way, you do not object to smoke?”
”Certainly not. I do not smoke myself.”
”In Battersea, eh?” And De Bac pulling out a silver cheroot case held it out to Brown. But the publisher declined.
”Money wouldn't buy a smoke like that in England,” remarked De Bac, ”but as you will. I wouldn't smoke if I were you. Such abstinence looks respectable and means nothing.” He put a cigar between his lips, and pointed his forefinger at the end. To Brown's amazement an orange-flame licked out from under the fingernail, and vanished like a flash of lightning; but the cigar was alight, and its fragrant odour filled the room. It reached even Simmonds, who sniffed at it like a buck scenting the morning air. ”By George!” he exclaimed in wonder, ”what baccy!”
M. De Bac settled himself comfortably in his chair, and spoke with the cigar between his teeth. ”Now you have recovered a little from your surprise, Brown, I may as well tell you that I never carry matches.
This little scientific discovery I have made is very convenient, is it not?”
”I have never seen anything like it.”
”There are a good many things you have not seen, Brown--but to work.
Take a pencil and paper and note down what I say. You can tell me when I have done if you agree or not.”
Brown did as he was told, and De Bac spoke slowly and carefully.
”The money I have given you is absolutely your own on the following terms. You will publish the ma.n.u.script I left with you, enlarge your business, and work as you have hitherto worked--as a 'sweater.' You may speculate as much as you like. You will not lose. You need not avoid the publication of religious books, but you must never give in charity secretly. I do not object to a big cheque for a public object, and your name in all the papers. It will be well for you to hound down the vicious. Never give them a chance to recover themselves. You will be a legislator. Strongly uphold all those measures which, under a moral cloak, will do harm to mankind. I do not mention them. I do not seek to hamper you with detailed instructions. Work on these general lines, and you will do what I want. A word more. It will be advisable whenever you have a chance to call public attention to a great evil which is also a vice. Thousands who have never heard of it before will hear of it then--and human nature is very frail. You have noted all this down?”
”I have. You are a strange man, M. De Bac.”
M. De Bac frowned, and Brown began to tremble.
”I do not permit you to make observations about me, Mr. Brown.”
”I beg your pardon, sir.”
”Do not do so again. Will you agree to all this? I promise you unexampled prosperity for ten years. At the end of that time I shall want you elsewhere. And you must agree to take a journey with me.”
”A long one, sir?” Brown's voice was just a shade satirical.
M. De Bac smiled oddly. ”No--in your case I promise a quick pa.s.sage.
These are all the conditions I attach to my gift of six thousand pounds to you.”
Brown's amazement did not blind him to the fact of the advantage he had, as he thought, over his visitor. The six thousand pounds were already his, and he had given no promise. With a sudden boldness he spoke out.
”And if I decline?”
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