THE PRIME MINISTER (71 page)

‘I hardly know how to advise you,’ said the father, meaning in
truth to bring himself round to the giving of some advice adverse to her husband’s will.

‘I want no advice, papa.’

‘Want no advice! I never knew a woman who wanted it more.’

‘No, papa. I am bound to do as he tells me. I know what I have done. When some poor wretch has got himself into perpetual prison by his misdeeds, no advice can serve him then. So it is with me.’

‘You can at any rate escape
from your prison.’

‘No; – no. I have a feeling of pride which tells me that as I chose to become the wife of my husband, – as I insisted on it in opposition to all my friends, – as I would judge for myself, – I am bound to put up with my choice. If this had come upon me through the authority
of others, if I had been constrained to marry him, I think I could have reconciled myself to deserting
him. But I did it myself, and I will abide by it. When he bids me go, I shall go.’ Poor Mr Wharton went to his chambers, and sat there the whole day without taking a book or a paper into his hands. Could there be no rescue, no protection, no relief! He turned over in his head various plans, but in a vague and useless manner. What if the Duke were to prosecute Lopez for the fraud! What if he could
induce Lopez to abandon his wife, – pledging himself by some deed not to return to her, – for, say, twenty or even thirty thousand pounds! What if he himself were to carry his daughter away to the continent, half forcing and half persuading her to make the journey! Surely there might be some means found by which the man might be frightened into compliance. But there he sat, – and did nothing. And
in the evening he ate a solitary mutton chop at The Jolly Blackbird, because he could not bear to face even his club, and then returned to his chambers, – to the great disgust of the old woman who had them in charge at nights. And at about midnight he crept away to his own house, a wretched old man.

Lopez when he left Manchester Square did not go in search of a new home for himself and his wife,
nor during the whole of the day did he trouble himself on that subject. He spent most of the day at the rooms in Coleman Street of the San Juan Mining Association, of which Mr Mills Happerton had once been Chairman. There was now another Chairman and other Directors; but Mr Mills Happerton’s influence had so far remained with the Company as to enable Lopez to become well known in the Company’s
offices, and acknowledged as a claimant for the office of resident Manager at San Juan in Guatemala. Now the present project was this, – that Lopez was to start on behalf of the Company early in May, that the Company was to pay his own personal expenses out to Guatemala, and that they should allow him while there a salary of £1,000 a year for managing the affairs of the mine. As far as this offer
went, the thing was true enough. It was true that Lopez had absolutely secured the place. But he had done so subject to the burden of one very serious stipulation. He was to become proprietor of fifty shares in the mine, and to pay up £100 each on those shares. It was considered that the man who was to get £1,000 a year in Guatemala for managing the affair, should at any rate assist the affair, and
show his confidence in the
affair, to an extent as great as that Of course the holder of these fifty shares would be as fully entitled as any other shareholder to that twenty per cent which those who promoted the mine promised as the immediate result of the speculation.

At first Lopez had hoped that he might be enabled to defer the actual payment of the £5,000 till after he had sailed. When once
out in Guatemala as manager, as manager he would doubtless remain. But by degrees he found that the payment must actually be made in advance. Now there was nobody to whom he could apply but Mr Wharton. He was, indeed, forced to declare at the office that the money was to come from Mr Wharton, and had given some excellent but fictitious reason why Mr Wharton would not pay the money till February.

And in spite of all that had come and gone he still did hope that if the need to go were actually there he might even get the money from Mr Wharton. Surely Mr Wharton would sooner pay such a sum than be troubled at home with such a son-in-law. Should the worst come to the worst, of course he could raise the money by consenting to leave his wife at home. But this was not part of his plan, if he
could avoid it. £5,000 would be a very low price at which to sell his wife, and all that he might get from his connection with her. As long as he kept her with him he was in possession at any rate of all that Mr Wharton would do for her. He had not therefore as yet made his final application to his father-in-law for the money, having found it possible to postpone the payment till the middle of February.
His quarrel with Mr Wharton this morning he regarded as having little or no effect upon his circumstances. Mr Wharton would not give him the money because he loved him, nor yet from personal respect, nor from any sense of duty as to what he might owe to a son-in-law. It would be simply given as the price by which his absence might be purchased, and his absence would not be the less desirable
because of this morning’s quarrel.

But, even yet, he was not quite resolved as to going to Guatemala. Sexty Parker had been sucked nearly dry, and was in truth at this moment so violent with indignation and fear and remorse that Lopez did not dare to show himself in Little Tankard Yard; but still there were, even yet, certain hopes in that direction from which great results might come. If a certain
new spirit which had just been concocted from the bark of trees in Central Africa, and which was called Bios, could only be made to go up in the market, everything might be satisfactorily
arranged. The hoardings of London were already telling the public that if it wished to get drunk without any of the usual troubles of intoxication it must drink Bios. The public no doubt does read the literature
of the hoardings, but then it reads so slowly! This Bios had hardly been twelve months on the boards as yet! But they were now increasing the size of the letters in the advertisements and the jocundity of the pictures, – and the thing might be done. There was, too, another hope, – another hope of instant moneys by which Guatemala might be staved off, as to which further explanation shall be given
in a further chapter.

‘I suppose I shall find Dixon a decent sort of a fellow?’ said Lopez to the Secretary of the Association in Coleman Street.

‘Rough, you know.’

‘But honest?’

‘Oh yes; – he’s all that’

‘If he’s honest, and what I call loyal, I don’t care a straw for anything else. One doesn’t expect West-end manners in Guatemala. But I shall have a deal to do with him, – and I hate a fellow
that you can’t depend on.’

‘Mr Happerton used to think a great deal of Dixon.’

‘That’s all right,’ said Lopez. Mr Dixon was the underground manager out at the San Juan mine, and was perhaps as anxious for a loyal and honest colleague as was Mr Lopez. If so, Mr Dixon was very much in the way to be disappointed.

Lopez stayed at the office all the day studying the affairs of the San Juan mine,
and then went to the Progress for his dinner. Hitherto he had taken no steps whatever as to getting lodgings for himself or for his wife.

When the time came at which Lopez should have left Manchester Square he was still there. Mr Wharton, in discussing the matter with his daughter, – when wishing to persuade her that she might remain in his house even in opposition to her husband, – had not told her that he had actually desired Lopez to leave it He had then felt sure
that the man would go and would take his
wife with him, but he did not even yet know the obduracy and the cleverness and the impregnability of his son-in-law. When the time came, when he saw his daughter in the morning after the notice had been given, he could not bring himself even yet to say to her that he had issued an order for his banishment. Days went by and Lopez was still there, and the old barrister said no further word on the
subject. The two men never met; – or met simply in the hall or passages. Wharton himself studiously avoided such meetings, thus denying himself the commonest uses of his own house. At last Emily told him that her husband had fixed the day for her departure. The next Indian mail-packet
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by which they would leave England would start from Southampton on the 2nd of April, and she was to be ready to
go on that day. ‘How is it to be till then?’ the father asked in a low, uncertain voice.

‘I suppose I may remain with you.’

‘And your husband?’

‘He will be here too, – I suppose.’

‘Such a misery, – such a destruction of everything no man ever heard of before!’ said Mr Wharton. To this she made no reply, but continued working at some necessary preparation for her final departure. ‘Emily,’ he
said, ‘I will make any sacrifice to prevent it. What can be done? Short of injuring Everett’s interests I will do anything.’

‘I do not know,’ she said.

‘You must understand something of his affairs.’

‘Nothing whatever. He has told me nothing of them. In earlier days, – soon after our marriage, – he bade me get money from you.’

‘When you wrote to me for money from Italy?’

‘And after that.
I have refused to do anything; – to say a word. I told him that it must be between you and him. What else could I say? And now he tells me nothing.’

‘I cannot think that he should want you to go with him.’ Then there was again a pause. ‘Is it because he loves you?’

‘Not that, papa.’

‘Why then should he burden himself with a companion? His money, whatever he has, would go further without such
impediment?’

‘Perhaps he thinks, papa, that while I am with him he has a hold upon you.’

‘He shall have a stronger hold by leaving you. What is he to gain? If I could only know his price.’

‘Ask him, papa.’

‘I do not even know how I am to speak to him again.’

Then again there was a pause. ‘Papa,’ she said after a while, ‘I have done it myself. Let me go. You will still have Everett. And
it may be that after a time I shall come back to you. He will not kill me, and it may be that I shall not die.’

‘By God!’ said Mr Wharton, rising from his chair suddenly, ‘if there were money to be made by it, I believe that he would murder you without a scruple.’ Thus it was that within eighteen months of her marriage the father spoke to his daughter of her husband.

‘What am I to take with
me?’ she said to her husband a few days later.

‘You had better ask your father.’

‘Why should I ask him, Ferdinand? How should he know?’

‘And how should I?’

‘I should have thought that you would interest yourself about it.’

‘Upon my word I have enough to interest me just at present, without thinking of your finery. I suppose you mean what clothes you should have?’

‘I was not thinking of myself
only.’

‘You need think of nothing else. Ask him what he pleases to allow you to spend, and then I will tell you what to get’

‘I will never ask him for anything, Ferdinand.’

‘Then you may go without anything. You might as well do it at once, for you will have to do it sooner or later. Or, if you please, go to his tradesmen and say nothing to him about it They will give you credit. You see how
it is, my dear. He has cheated me in a most rascally manner. He has allowed me to marry his daughter, and because I did not make a bargain with him as another man would have done, he denies me the fortune I had a right to expect with you. You know that the Israelites despoiled the Egyptians, and it was taken as a merit on their part.
¹⁰
Your father is an Egyptian to me, and I will despoil him.
You can tell him that I say so if you please.’

And so the days went on till the first week of February had passed, and Parliament had met. Both Lopez and his wife were still living in Manchester Square. Not another word had been said as to
that notice to quit, nor an allusion made to it. It was supposed to be a settled thing that Lopez was to start with his wife for Guatemala in the first week
in April. Mr Wharton had himself felt that difficulty as to his daughter’s outfit, and had told her that she might get whatever it pleased her on his credit. ‘For yourself, my dear.’

‘Papa, I will get nothing till he bids me.’

‘But you can’t go across the world without anything. What are you to do in such a place as that unless you have the things you want?’

‘What do poor people do who have
to go? What should I do if you had cast me off because of my disobedience?’

‘But I have not cast you off.’

‘Tell him that you will give him so much, and then, if he bids me, I will spend it’

‘Let it be so. I will tell him.’

Upon that Mr Wharton did speak to his son-in-law; – coming upon him suddenly one morning in the dining-room. ‘Emily will want an outfit if she is to go to this place.’

‘Like other people she wants many things that she cannot get.’

‘I will tell my tradesmen to furnish her with what she wants, up to, – well, – suppose I say £200. I have spoken to her and she wants your sanction.’

‘My sanction for spending your money? She can have that very quickly.’

‘You can tell her so; – or I will do so.’

Upon that Mr Wharton was going, but Lopez stopped him. It was now essential
that the money for the shares in the San Juan mine should be paid up, and his father-in-law’s pocket was still the source from which the enterprising son-in-law hoped to procure it. Lopez had fully made up his mind to demand it, and thought that the time had now come. And he was resolved that he would not ask it as a favour on bended knee. He was beginning to feel his own power, and trusted
that he might prevail by other means than begging. ‘Mr Wharton,’ he said, ‘you and I have not been very good friends lately.’

‘No, indeed.’

‘There was a time, – a very short time, – during which I thought that we might hit it off together, and I did my best You do not, I fancy, like men of my class.’

‘Well; – well! You had better go on if there be anything to say.’