Chapter XXI

IN WHICH THE CITY'S DOUBTS ARE RESOLVED, AND TWO FRIENDS START FOR
SIBERIA

Anglo-Asiatics were booming. Not merely had they recovered from their recent slump; they had leapt up to the top of the market; and were still soaring. There was a positive scramble in the City to get hold of them. Those who had held on during the slump praised God and bought a new motor-car, or planned to move into larger houses, or buy a bigger place in the country: those who had sold out cursed their luck, and prophesied that, despite the boom, the Anglo-Asiatic Corporation would come to a bad end. Few heeded their prophecies: the City was as optimistic about Anglo-Asiatics now as it had been pessimistic a brief while ago. Vanzetti might go about black as a thunder-cloud, and curse Lord Ealing for not giving him the tip. All Lord Ealing answered was, "My dear fellow, I never advised you to sell. I told you I was holding on. And I knew no more than you how it would turn out."

All this, of course, was since Pasquett had at length publicly signified his intention of taking up the great Siberian concession jointly with Lord Ealing and his associates. But this was not the only cause for jubilation. It appeared that, now the concession had been taken up and guarantees given, the Soviet Government was prepared to treat the Anglo-Asiatic very generously in respect of its other properties in Russia. Not one concession, but several, were in prospect, and it was already certain that the Anglo-Asiatic's proposed issue of fresh capital would be heavily oversubscribed. Every one wanted to be in it. Pasquett's holding back, and then coming forward when the shares were nearly worthless, had produced the maximum of effect. The City is extraordinarily susceptible to influences of this sort.

Pasquett, after his final interview with Superintendent Wilson, seemed to have given up hope of catching Rosenbaum. He had gone straight to Lord Ealing, and taken up his quarters at that nobleman's fine house in Berkeley Square. There they had, after dinner on the evening of Pasquett's return, their first business conversation, apart from the little talk we have noted already.

"Well, Pasquett," said Lord Ealing, as they sat together over their wine, "is the ban lifted? May I talk business now?"

"By all means," said Pasquett. "Since I'm coming in, it can't be done too soon."

Thereafter the two men had speedily settled the broad outlines of their plan, including the methods to be used in raising the new capital required. Pasquett said he would go out at once with Arthur Wharton and the expert appointed by the Anglo-Asiatic to survey the ground and make the necessary preparations. The financial arrangements at home he would leave in the hands of his lawyer and of Mr. Culpepper, whom, in view of Radlett's death, he proposed to make his partner in the enterprise. Lord Ealing readily agreed to these suggestions, and, between them, they worked out a complete plan for submission to the leaders of the Anglo-Asiatic. There was to be a new company, with a composite Board of four--Lord Ealing and Sir James Vanzetti, Pasquett and Culpepper. Lord Ealing was to be Chairman, and Pasquett, Managing Director. Franklin was to be solicitor to the Board, and Pasquett agreed that Arthur Wharton should be appointed as secretary to the new company. An essential feature of the scheme was that full and immediate publicity was to be given, both to the terms of the concession, and to the advantages secured by the Anglo-Asiatic in respect of its other Russian properties. In the unlikely event of Radlett being alive, he would, of course, join the Board, and little Mr. Benjamin was to be added in order to equalise the representation of the two groups.

A glow of satisfaction came over Lord Ealing as they talked. He could see that Pasquett had his business head screwed on the right way, and would make an admirable partner. And he was confident that Pasquett had no inkling of the little scheme by which he had already realised quite a fortune.

It was when everything was settled that Pasquett said carelessly, "By the way, I hope you did pretty well out of that little affair we arranged here when we first met."

Lord Ealing stared, and sat up suddenly. "What do you mean?" he said. "I don't understand."

"I mean," said Pasquett, laughing, "that it was a cute move, getting people to think I wasn't coming in, and bringing the shares down so that you could buy them cheap, without any one knowing. And I'm glad you didn't tell Vanzetti. I understand he was selling hard. It would have been a pity to bring him into it."

"Really, Pasquett, I don't know what you're driving at."

"My dear Lord Ealing," said Pasquett pleasantly, "you and I are going to be partners, and it is best we should understand one another fully. You got me to promise you I would come in, and you were very particular I should not tell any one else. Then the rumour was very well spread that I was not coming in. Such a rumour was clearly calculated to cause a fall in the price of your shares. Very well ... the shares did fall. Isn't the inference obvious? You were buying when they were down. I spotted your game as soon as you didn't want me to tell. And, when the shares began to rise in spite of the rumour, it was clear as daylight you were buying. Now, wasn't it?"

Lord Ealing looked at Pasquett and sighed. "I give in," he said. "You're quite right. Between ourselves, I was buying."

"My dear chap, so was I. And if you've done as well as I have, you have nothing to complain of."

Lord Ealing gasped. "You were the other buyer?" he said. "And I never had an idea you suspected."

Pasquett laughed. "Well, there's no harm done," he said. "We've both made a tidy bit of money by it, and now we understand each other. Two very desirable things."

"But I imagined you were far too much concerned about Radlett to think of business."

Pasquett became serious at once. "I was cut up, thoroughly cut up," he said, "but it wasn't in human nature to let you have a little game like that all to yourself."

"So that's why the shares rose a bit. You and I were buying against each other."

"That's so. But we've both done well enough not to complain. Shake hands on it."

Lord Ealing shook hands, but he felt--humbled. This unknown man had seen through his astute game at a glance, and had the audacity to welcome him as a brother swindler. Well, it wasn't quite swindling; but it was sharp practice. He would need all his wits in dealing with Pasquett. But, after all, that made him all the better as a partner. Thenceforward, Lord Ealing thought of Pasquett as his business equal. There were few men of whom he would admit as much.

* * * * *

The flotation of the new company, and all the other preliminaries connected with the concession, took longer than either Pasquett or Lord Ealing had anticipated, and several months passed before Pasquett was ready to start on his journey to Siberia. There were Radlett's affairs in New York to be cleared up, and ready money to be made available for the work of development. Pasquett's presence, and frequent exercise of his power of attorney, was indispensable, and he had even to pay a flying visit to the United States in order to place some of Radlett's assets in a more liquid form and comply with certain legal formalities. When he returned, one of the partners in the New York firm of lawyers which had served Radlett accompanied him, partly on business, but also with the intention, as he put it, of seeing little Europe (with the accent on the final syllable) while he was about it. There were many consultations in Franklin's office, countless papers to be signed, endless and irritating legal delays.

The actual proving of Radlett's will was, indeed, deferred until the mystery surrounding his death was either solved or given up as insoluble. But the power of attorney gave Pasquett ample scope, and he had already realised a substantial sum for himself by his fortunate purchases of Anglo-Asiatic shares. There was no lack of ready money, and, though the formalities were sometimes annoying, they did not seriously hold back the progress of the concession.

The delays in getting the legal business of the concession settled up gave Pasquett an opportunity of developing his knowledge, personal as well as commercial, of his new associates. He made, as we have seen, an excellent first impression, but he also improved on further acquaintance. He was no longer staying with Lord Ealing in Berkeley Square, having been lucky enough to rent a large and comfortable furnished flat in the Adelphi, with big windows overlooking the river. There he entertained quietly, rapidly building himself up a body of friends who were enthusiastic in his praise.

He made one enemy--Vanzetti. The big man never forgave him for the rebuff administered at their first meeting. Vanzetti had lost heavily through selling out at the worst time a big block of his shares in the Anglo-Asiatic, and he had somehow conceived the idea--not so far from the truth, as we know--that Pasquett had deliberately forced the shares down in order to buy when they were cheap, and that this had been the reason for his refusal to come to terms sooner with the directors of the Anglo-Asiatic. Vanzetti had never seriously suspected Lord Ealing of having invented this little plot. Nor did he now. But he did suspect Pasquett, and hated him for it. Pasquett did his best to charm Vanzetti by putting out all his powers to please, but, though the big man was polite for business reasons, his dislike of Pasquett was hardly concealed. Lord Ealing tried to laugh him out of it in vain. He returned again and again to his grievance about the sale of his shares, though, with the subsequent rise of values, he stood to gain by what he had held more than enough to balance his loss.

Arthur Wharton, who suspected nothing of the little wangles out of which Pasquett and his uncle had done so well, saw a good deal of Pasquett during these months of waiting, and the two men became fast friends. Whenever the Canadian was in London, he and Arthur were inseparable. They corresponded during his absence in the United States, and Arthur became his confidant in the matter which shared his heart with the affairs of the Anglo-Asiatic.

Little Mr. Culpepper, as we know, had a daughter. Wilson, when he went to Paramé, had been struck as much by her beauty as by her obvious capacity and self-possession. Arthur had actually seen Norah Culpepper for a few minutes, without knowing who she was, on the occasion when he and Pasquett were fellow-travellers by air from Paris to Warsaw. He had been struck with her even then, and now he heard a great deal of Norah Culpepper from his new friend, and he was not surprised when, after one of his many week-end visits to the Culpepper villa at Paramé, Pasquett announced that he and Norah had made a match of it. John Pasquett laughed at himself as he told Arthur the news. "An old bachelor like me," he said, "ought to have no business getting engaged."

"You seem very pleased about it, all the same, my baby-snatcher," said Arthur, "and I must tell you I'm not a bit surprised. You've thought of nothing but Norah Culpepper and the concession ever since I got to know you. I wonder which you love the more."

"Norah, of course," said Pasquett; but who knows whether he spoke the truth? "She's just the wife for me," he said. "She'll enjoy this Siberian business as much as I shall."

"Are you taking her with you?" asked Arthur, secretly a little alarmed at the prospect of female companionship on their expedition.

"Not this time," said Pasquett. "I must get things ready for her first. I'll come back and get married in a few months, and then bring her out with me. She wants to come. How's that for a wife?"

"Magnificent!" said Arthur. "Will you introduce me to the charmer? Our first meeting hardly constitutes an introduction."

The next time Pasquett went to Paramé he took Arthur with him, and gave him the opportunity of getting to know the girl whose looks and carriage he had so admired when she saw Pasquett off from Paris on the day following the discovery of the crime. Arthur spent a very pleasant week-end at Paramé. Culpepper himself was away in London, greatly to Arthur's relief, for he neither liked nor trusted the little man. But he did like Norah very much, though he told Pasquett that he found it difficult to make her out. He had proof of her courage during his stay. The chief ornament of the Culpepper villa was a magnificently-equipped motor-boat, very fast and seaworthy, and obviously Norah's hobby and delight. In this, on the Sunday, they made a long trip, visiting Mont St. Michel and other places along the coast, and running far out to sea. It came on very rough, and Arthur was seriously alarmed, especially when a heavy fog descended on them. But Norah Culpepper seemed to enjoy the fog and the heavy sea. Danger was her element. Arthur forgot his fears in marvelling at the skill with which she handled her boat, assuming naturally the position of captain, and ordering him and Pasquett about with a perfect command of the situation. Arthur was glad when at last, well after nightfall, they got back to Paramé. From that moment he regarded Norah as a somewhat formidable young woman--as formidable as she was charming and clever. He said as much to Pasquett.

"Lord bless you, yes," said his friend. "She'll boss me, though I flatter myself I have a will of my own too. I like her for it. I can't abide the clinging kind of young lady, who looks up to you for protection and expects to be kept like a pet dog."

Arthur was rather amused at the lovers when he watched them together. They did not behave like lovers of the conventional sort. He had rather feared, when he accepted Norah's invitation, issued in her mother's name, that he would be in the way, and that Pasquett would want to be alone with her. But he soon found out his mistake. Their idea of love-making was to do things together. They spent half Saturday building a summer-house in the garden, while Arthur patiently fetched and carried at Norah's command. In the evening they went across the river to Dinard, and made merry at the Casino. But not for a moment did Arthur feel that he was in the way, or that they wished him elsewhere. They were like three good friends together. When they went back to London on Monday, Norah seriously proposed running them right across the Channel in her motor-boat, but Pasquett dissuaded her. "I often do it, you know, Mr. Wharton," she said. Arthur could not make out the look that passed from Pasquett to her as she said this. He seemed to be warning her not to say more. When Arthur expressed his astonishment that she should venture to cross the sea in an open boat, she abruptly changed the subject. No more was said of her proposal to take them across to England. But it remained in Arthur's mind.

Alfred Culpepper himself was much in London during these months, but his wife and daughter preferred to remain in France, occasionally at their flat in Paris, but for the most of the time at Paramé. Culpepper told Arthur that he had urged them to come and take a house with him in London, but Norah absolutely refused, and Mrs. Culpepper always did what her daughter commanded. So Culpepper passed much of his time with his sister in London, though he still kept his Paris business in being. This was only a small affair, but he had ideas of developing it, in connection with the new company--the Anglo-Yenisei--which could be so worked as to throw a deal of fresh trade in his way.

So Pasquett went to and fro between France and London, and between his two loves--Norah and the concession. Arthur paid other visits with him later, both to Paramé and to Paris, and got to know Norah Culpepper well. He liked her the more the better he knew her, but he never lost his impression that she was both essentially formidable and a little mysterious. Pasquett laughed when he called her mysterious. "What you mean," he said, "is that she's like no one else in the world. That's why I'm going to marry her."

Arthur's friendship with Pasquett was growing all this time firmer and closer. He found in his new friend a satisfaction of impulses and aspirations of his own that had never become articulate. In Oxford, he had protected himself with a veneer of cynical comment against the sense of boredom and unprofitable security which the life of the University gave him. He had left Oxford and entered the service of the Anglo-Asiatic in search of he hardly knew what, but certainly of adventure in some form. Modern business, he had told himself, was a piratical filibustering affair; in it he would surely find an outlet for his buccaneering instincts. But a few months had convinced him that the business world was as dull as the academic, and that there was no romance to be found even in the tangled financial operations of his uncle's company.

Arthur envied Pasquett his capacity for getting a savour out of everyday affairs. When he talked of his doings in Russia, the spirit of adventure came to life in every tale. But no less when he talked of ordinary business concerns, Pasquett seemed to extract from them, too, an essence of romantic enjoyment. He was, and was conscious of being, a born adventurer, a man who would never settle down. Even Radlett's millions would not turn him into an ordinary, humdrum capitalist, content to sit at home and manipulate high finance while his subordinates did the actual work of setting men to production. Pasquett was eager to get back to Siberia, and himself to take the lead in getting the concession under weigh. He would manage the affair with excellent business capacity. Arthur was sure of that. But he would also enjoy managing it, enjoy the inevitable hardships and difficulties, and enjoy, above all, carrying the whole thing off with a swing.

It was because he found in Pasquett qualities hitherto latent in himself that Arthur was eager to accept his leadership and to make him a friend. They made their preparations for their journey together to Siberia like two friends arranging for a pleasant travel. Sandy Alison, chief mining expert of the Anglo-Asiatic, who was to go with them, poked his dry fun at them again and again. The little, stocky, middle-aged Scotsman, with his Glasgow accent and his queer, humorous ways, would remind them very solemnly that it was not a picnic on which they were bound, but a great business expedition. "Ye'll need," he would say, "to hae a mind to the widows and orphans who ha' pu' their bit of money into yon concession." According to him, they were behaving like a pair of children, quite unfit to be trusted with great business affairs.

They knew, however, that Alison was looking forward to the expedition just as keenly as they. He had begun his career as a miner in the Australian gold-fields, and there had been no dearth of adventures in his earlier life. Once, growing confidential, he told them that he had been rusting at home for years, and was spoiling for a job with a spice of excitement to it. But usually he maintained a dour, critical attitude, betraying himself only by a twinkle in the eye and an occasional phrase of dry humour. "Amn't I promising Lord Ealing to be a father to you," he would say, "and keep ye both out of mischief? I'll hae my hands full, ye say? I will that."

At length all was ready for a start. A ship was fitted out with an abundant supply of tools and machinery required for the first processes of development. As early in the year as the passage was likely to be clear of ice, the three men, with a good company of skilled subordinates, sailed from Aberdeen for the River Yenisei, by way of the Kara Sea. They had chosen the all-sea route in order to avoid the complications of overland travel across Europe with their heavy equipment. Lord Ealing and Culpepper saw them off at Aberdeen.