Part 35 (1/2)
”I am not in the least disappointed; quite the reverse,” Brand said; and he remembered Calabressa, and spoke in as friendly a way as possible.
”Indeed, many a time I am sorry one cannot explain more fully to those who are only inquiring. If they could only see at once all that is going on, they would have no more doubt. And it is slow work with some of them.”
”Yes, certainly; no doubt. Well, to return, if you please: it is a satisfaction you are not disappointed; that you believe we are doing a good work; that you go with us. Very well. You have advanced grade by grade; you see nothing to repent of; why not take the final step?”
”I don't quite understand you,” he said, doubtfully.
”I will explain. You have given yourself to us--your time, your labor, your future; but the final step of self-sacrifice--is it so very difficult? In many cases it is merely a challenge: we say, 'Show that you can trust us even for your very livelihood. Become absolutely dependent on us, even for your food, your drink, your clothes.' In your case, I admit, it is something more: it is an invitation to a very considerable self-sacrifice. All the more proof that you are not afraid.”
”I do not think I am afraid,” said Brand, slowly; ”but--”
”One moment. The affair is simple. The officers of our society--those who govern--those from whom are chosen the members of the Council--that Council that is more powerful than any government in Europe--those officers, I say, are required first of all to surrender every farthing of personal property, so that they shall become absolutely dependent on the Society itself--”
Brand looked a trifle bewildered: more than that, resentful and indignant, as if his common-sense had received a shock.
”It is a necessary condition,” Lind continued, without eagerness--rather as if he were merely enunciating a theory. ”It insures absolute equality; it is a proof of faith. And you may perceive that, as I am alive, they do not allow one to starve.”
The slight smile that accompanied this remark was meant to be rea.s.suring. Certainly, Mr. Lind did not starve; if the society of which he was a member enabled him to live as he did in Curzon Street, he had little to complain of.
”You mean,” said George Brand, ”that before I enter this highest grade, next to the Council, I must absolutely surrender my entire fortune to you?”
”To the common fund of the Society--yes,” was the reply; uttered as a matter of course.
”But there is no compulsion?”
”Certainly not. On this point every one is free. You may remain in your present grade if you please.”
”Then I confess to you I don't see why I should change,” Brand said, frankly. ”Cannot I work as well for you just as I am?”
”Perhaps; perhaps not,” said the other, easily. ”But you perceive, further, that the fact of our not exacting subscriptions from the poorer members of our a.s.sociation makes it all the more necessary that we should have voluntary gifts from the richer. And as regards a surplus of wealth, of what use is that to any one? Am I not granted as much money as one need reasonably want? And just now there is more than ever a need of money for the general purposes of the Society: Lord Evelyn gave us a thousand pounds last week.”
Brand flushed red.
”I wish you had told me,” he said; ”I would rather have given you five thousand. You know he cannot afford it.”
”The greater the merit of the sacrifice,” said his companion calmly.
This proposal was so audacious that George Brand was still a little bewildered; but the fact was that, while listening very respectfully to Mr. Lind, he had been thinking more about Natalie; and it was the most natural thing in the world that some thought of her should now intervene.
”Another thing, Mr. Lind,” said he, though he was rather embarra.s.sed.
”Even if I were to make such a sacrifice, as far as I am concerned; if I were to run the risk for myself alone, that might all be very well; but supposing I were to marry, do you think I should like my wife to run such a risk--do you think I should be justified in allowing her? And surely _you_ ought not to ask _me_. It is your own daughter--”
”Excuse me, Mr. Brand,” said the other, blandly but firmly. ”We will restrict ourselves to business at the present moment, if you will be so kind. I wrote to you all that occurred to me when I had to consider your very flattering proposal with regard to my daughter; I may now add that, if any thought of her interfered with your decision in this matter, I should still further regret that you had ever met.”
”You do not take the view a father would naturally take about the future of his own daughter,” said Brand, bluntly.
Lind was not in the least moved by this taunt.
”I should allow neither the interests of my daughter nor my own interests to interfere with my sense of duty,” said he. ”Do you know me so little? Do you know her so little? Ah, then you have much to learn of her!”
Lind looked at him for a second or two, and added, with a slight smile,