Part 37 (1/2)
Haldane was waiting for us when we came in. ”Our men have had a busy afternoon. All the shares they offered were bought up, and there is no sign of any weakness yet,” he said.
We formed a somewhat silent company during the earlier portion of the evening. Haldane sat busy, pencil in hand, and finally pa.s.sed a page of his notebook across to us. ”I don't quite know who is backing Lane, but his purse is a tolerably long one,” he said. ”You see, we must produce shares, or the difference between their value at that time and the price we sold at, to this extent on settling day, Ormesby.”
”Of which n.o.body would apparently sell us one,” I answered ruefully.
Haldane nodded. ”You mean, of course, to-day. A good many people may be willing to do so before this hour to-morrow--if not it will be time then to consider seriously. Meanwhile, the best we can do is to seek innocent relaxation, and I see that Miss Redmond is singing at the opera house.”
I was hardly in the mood to enjoy a concert, though I was curious to hear Redmond's daughter; but inaction had grown almost insufferable and when we took our places in the crowded building I felt glad that I had come. The sight of the close-packed mult.i.tude and the hum of many voices helped to hold in check my nervous restlessness. Nevertheless, though a lover of music, I scarcely heard a word of the first three songs, and only became intent when a clapping of hands rolled round the building as a dark-haired girl stood forward in the glare of the footlights. It was evidently she who had drawn the perspiring crowd together, and that alone was an eloquent testimonial, considering the temperature.
Ailin Redmond was very plainly dressed, and she smiled her acknowledgments with a simplicity that evidently pleased the audience, while perhaps in compliment to them she wore as sole adornment a few green maple leaves. Then I settled myself to listen, and continued almost spell-bound to the end of the song, wondering where the girl I had seen herding cattle barefooted not very long ago had acquired such power. She was not, from a technical view, perhaps, a finished singer; but Western audiences can feel, if, for the most part, they cannot criticise; and I think she drove the full meaning of the old Irish ballad home to the hearts of all of them. A wailing undertone rang through it, and the effect of the whole was best expressed as uncanny.
It was no doubt the strangeness of her themes, and the contrast she presented to her stereotyped rivals, which had led to the girl's success.
In any case the applause was vociferous, and continued until the singer returned and stood still, with hands lightly clasped, looking, not at the expectant audience, but directly at us. There was a curious expression in her eyes, which were fixed steadily on myself and Haldane beside me. Then I gained understanding as she commenced to sing, for there was no mistaking the fact that she meant the song for us. It was a clever resetting of such an old-world ballad as I think no Anglo-Saxon could have written; its burden was a mourning over ancient wrongs and hunger for revenge; but the slender, dark-haired girl held the power to infuse her spirit into me. My lips and hands closed tight as I saw, what I think she wished me to, Helen Boone dying in a sod hovel, and the wagon that bore the dead man rolling through murky blackness across the prairie.
Then I shook all misgivings from me, feeling that though every acre and bushel of grain must go, and we failed, they would be well spent in an attempt to pull down the man who had brought about such things. That others might suffer with him counted little then. They had clutched at their dividends--dividends wrung by him out of the agony of poor men; and their ignorance, which was scarcely possible, did not free them from responsibility.
There was dead stillness for several seconds between the accompanist's final chord and the tumultuous applause which the slightly puzzled audience accorded, while, when it died away, I saw that Boone's forehead was beaded and his lips slightly quivering. Even Haldane appeared less than usually at ease.
”Miss Redmond is a young lady of uncommon and even uncomfortable gifts,”
he said. ”Women, as you will discover some day, Ormesby, are responsible for most of the mischief that goes on, as well as a large amount of good. For instance, it was the encouragement of one of them which helped to start me on this campaign, and now, when slightly doubtful respecting the wisdom of the step, another must sing eerie songs to me with a purpose. I think we will walk round and call on her.”
We did so, and Redmond's daughter did not keep us waiting long. She sailed down a broad stairway and stood smiling under the glaring lamps, very slight and slim and graceful, so that it seemed fitting Haldane should bend over the hand she gave him.
”There is no need for my poor compliments after the verdict of the mult.i.tude; but did you sing that song to us?” he said.
”Yes,” said the girl quietly, while the smile sank out of her eyes. ”We have a good many friends and hear much gossip, so I knew at once who was directing the attack on Lane's company. As to the song--I had some slight education down East, you know--its choice was not without a meaning. You will remember how, on the eve of battle, Shakespeare's ghosts prophesied to one man ruin and to another victory?”
”Yes,” said Haldane, looking puzzled, ”I think I do.”
”Then”--and Ailin Redmond seemed to s.h.i.+ver a little--”do you think there are no ghosts on the prairie?”
”I have not met any of them,” said Haldane; and the girl answered with infectious gravity: ”That does not prove there are none; and, even if you call it a childish fancy, I felt as I sang that they will bring you victory to-morrow.”
”You are far too clever and pretty to fill your head with such fancies, my dear,” said Haldane. And when we went out into the open he repeated, with a shrug of his shoulders: ”In spite of her talents, that is a most uncomfortable young woman; but heaven send her prophecy comes true.”
Again I pa.s.sed a restless night, but our agent procured us admission into the inner precincts of the exchange on the morrow, and as I listened to the eager shouting and watched the excited groups surge about the salesmen, I began to comprehend the fascination that speculation wields over its votaries. Our little spectacled broker, however, held my eye as he flitted to and fro, and now and then with a strident cry gathered a mob of gesticulating men about him. Somebody accepted his offers on each occasion, and he approached us with an almost dismayed expression when the market closed at noon.
”You are an old hand at this business, sir, but I feel it's my duty to warn you that things don't look well,” he said. ”Your friends of the opposition are evidently able to stand considerable hammering. The sum you mentioned would be no use now to pull us straight; and unless there's a break pretty soon they'll squeeze you like a screw vice on settling day. It would be hard to figure the price they'll make you pay.”
”You don't suppose I haven't foreseen such a contingency,” said Haldane.
”The break will probably come this afternoon--if not, to-morrow. Tell your allies to sell further small lots down at a moderate reduction.”
Our lunch was, as the others had been, luxurious; but my throat was dry, and I could not eat. Boone's appet.i.te had also failed, and I may have guessed aright at part of his story when I saw him, after thrice emptying his gla.s.s, glance still thirstily at the wine, and then thrust the decanter away.
”It is time to consider,” said Haldane. ”Unless somebody is soon scared into selling, Lane's company will be able to fleece us horribly on settling day; but experience of such affairs teaches me that sooner or later the smaller holders must break under a persistent hammering. Now, I don't mind admitting that I did not antic.i.p.ate such an obstinate defense; and the cause of my interference is mainly this: I had promised to take my younger daughter on a trip to Europe, but am not overfond of traveling, and Lucille is tolerably contented with her own country; so when she first suggested and then insisted that I should make a campaign fund of what it would cost I was not wholly sorry to agree, and figured that, with careful handling, the money might be sufficient to scare Lane into making some rash move. At present it seems that I was mistaken, and that before we break him I must throw Bonaventure into the scale. You may save your protests, gentlemen; I'm a born speculator, and my daughter has set her heart on this thing. If she hadn't, I'd have a very great reluctance to being beaten by a single-horse-power company.”
”Every acre of Crane Valley I can find a buyer for goes in, too,” I said; and Boone added quietly: ”You have my last dollar, sir, already.”