trooper peter halket of mashonaland-第2部分

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or　some　such　name；　Syndicate。　　Peter　Halket　was　not　very　clear　as　to　how　it

ought　to　be　started；　but　he　felt　certain　that　he　and　some　other　men　would

have　to　take　shares。　　They　would　not　have　to　pay　for　them。　　And　then　they

would　get　some　big　man　in　London　to　take　shares。　　He　need　not　pay　for　them；

they　would　give　them　to　him；　and　then　the　company　would　be　floated。　　No　one

would　have　to　pay　anything；　it　was　just　the　name〃The　Peter　Halket　Gold

Mining　Company；　Limited。〃　　It　would　float　in　London；　and　people　there　who

didn't　know　the　country　would　buy　the　shares；　THEY　would　have　to　give　ready

money　for　them；　of　course；　perhaps　fifteen　pounds　a　share　when　they　were

up！Peter　Halket's　eyes　blinked　as　he　looked　into　the　fire。And　then；

when　the　market　was　up；　he；　Peter　Halket；　would　sell　out　all　his　shares。　

If　he　gave　himself　only　six　thousand　and　sold　them　each　for　ten　pounds；

then　he；　Peter　Halket；　would　have　sixty　thousand　pounds！　　And　then　he　would

start　another　company；　and　another。



Peter　Halket　struck　his　knee　softly　with　his　hand。



That　was　the　great　thing〃Always　sell　out　at　the　right　time。〃　　That　point

Peter　Halket　was　very　clear　on。　　He　had　heard　it　so　often　discussed。　　Give

some　shares　to　men　with　big　names；　and　sell　out：　　they　can　sell　out　too　at

the　right　time。



Peter　Halket　stroked　his　knee　thoughtfully。



And　then　the　other　people；　that　bought　the　shares　for　cash！　　Well；　they

could　sell　out　too；　they　could　all　sell　out！



Then　Peter　Halket's　mind　got　a　little　hazy。　　The　matter　was　getting　too

difficult　for　him；　like　a　rule　of　three　sum　at　school　when　he　could　not　see

the　relation　between　the　two　first　terms　and　the　third。　　Well；　if　they

didn't　like　to　sell　out　at　the　right　time；　it　was　their　own　faults。　　Why

didn't　they？　　He；　Peter　Halket；　did　not　feel　responsible　for　them。　

Everyone　knew　that　you　had　to　sell　out　at　the　right　time。　　If　they　didn't

choose　to　sell　out　at　the　right　time；　well；　they　didn't。　　〃It's　the　shares

that　you　sell；　not　the　shares　you　keep；　that　make　the　money。〃



But　if　they　couldn't　sell　them？



Here　Peter　Halket　hesitated。Well；　the　British　Government　would　have　to

buy　them；　if　they　were　so　bad　no　one　else　would；　and　then　no　one　would

lose。　　〃The　British　Government　can't　let　British　share…holders　suffer。〃　

He'd　heard　that　often　enough。　　The　British　taxpayer　would　have　to　pay　for

the　Chartered　Company；　for　the　soldiers；　and　all　the　other　things；　if　IT

couldn't；　and　take　over　the　shares　if　it　went　smash；　because　there　were

lords　and　dukes　and　princes　connected　with　it。　　And　why　shouldn't　they　pay

for　his　company？　　He　would　have　a　lord　in　it　too！



Peter　Halket　looked　into　the　fire　completely　absorbed　in　his　calculations。…

…Peter　Halket；　Esq。；　Director　of　the　Peter　Halket　Gold　Mining　Company；

Limited。　　Then；　when　he　had　got　thousands；　Peter　Halket；　Esq。；　M。P。　　Then；

when　he　had　millions；　Sir　Peter　Halket；　Privy　Councillor！



He　reflected　deeply；　looking　into　the　blaze。　　If　you　had　five　or　six

millions　you　could　go　where　you　liked　and　do　what　you　liked。　　You　could　go

to　Sandringham。　　You　could　marry　anyone。　　No　one　would　ask　what　your　mother

had　been；　it　wouldn't　matter。



A　curious　dull　sinking　sensation　came　over　Peter　Halket；　and　he　drew　in　his

broad　leathern　belt　two　holes　tighter。



Even　if　you　had　only　two　millions　you　could　have　a　cook　and　a　valet；　to　go

with　you　when　you　went　into　the　veld　or　to　the　wars；　and　you　could　have　as

much　champagne　and　other　things　as　you　liked。　　At　that　moment　that　seemed

to　Peter　more　important　than　going　to　Sandringham。



He　took　out　his　flask　of　Cape　Smoke；　and　drew　a　tiny　draught　from　it。



Other　men　had　come　to　South　Africa　with　nothing；　and　had　made　everything！　

Why　should　not　he？



He　stuck　small　branches　under　the　two　great　logs；　and　a　glorious　flame

burst　out。　　Then　he　listened　again　intently。　　The　wind　was　falling　and　the

night　was　becoming　very　still。　　It　was　a　quarter　to　twelve　now。　　His　back

ached；　and　he　would　have　liked　to　lie　down；　but　he　dared　not；　for　fear　he

should　drop　asleep。　　He　leaned　forward　with　his　hands　between　his　crossed

knees；　and　watched　the　blaze　he　had　made。



Then；　after　a　while；　Peter　Halket's　thoughts　became　less　clear：　　they

became　at　last；　rather；　a　chain　of　disconnected　pictures；　painting

themselves　in　irrelevant　order　on　his　brain；　than　a　line　of　connected

ideas。　　Now；　as　he　looked　into　the　crackling　blaze；　it　seemed　to　be　one　of

the　fires　they　had　make　to　burn　the　natives'　grain　by；　and　they　were

throwing　in　all　they　could　not　carry　away：　　then；　he　seemed　to　see　his

mother's　fat　ducks　waddling　down　the　little　path　with　the　green　grass　on

each　side。　　Then；　he　seemed　to　see　his　huts　where　he　lived　with　the

prospectors；　and　the　native　women　who　used　to　live　with　him；　and　he

wondered　where　the　women　were。　　Thenhe　saw　the　skull　of　an　old　Mashona

blown　off　at　the　top；　the　hands　still　moving。　　He　heard　the　loud　cry　of　the

native　women　and　children　as　they　turned　the　maxims　on　to　the　kraal；　and

then　he　heard　the　dynamite　explode　that　blew　up　a　cave。　　Then　again　he　was

working　a　maxim　gun；　but　it　seemed　to　him　it　was　more　like　the　reaping

machine　he　used　to　work　in　England；　and　that　what　was　going　down　before　it

was　not　yellow　corn；　but　black　men's　heads；　and　he　thought　when　he　looked

back　they　lay　behind　him　in　rows；　like　the　corn　in　sheaves。



The　logs　sent　up　a　flame　clear　and　high；　and；　where　they　split；　showed　a

burning　core　inside：　　the　cracking　and　spluttering　sounded　in　his　brain

like　the　discharge　of　a　battery　of　artillery。　　Then　he　thought　suddenly　of

a　black　woman　he　and　another　man　caught　alone　in　the　bush；　her　baby　on　her

back；　but　young　and　pretty。　　Well；　they　didn't　shoot　her！and　a　black

woman　wasn't　white！　　His　mother　didn't　understand　these　things；　it　was　all

so　different　in　England　from　South　Africa。　　You　couldn't　be　expected　to　do

the　same　sort　of　things　here　as　there。　　He　had　an　unpleasant　feeling　that

he　was　justifying　himself　to　his　mother；　and　that　he　didn't　know　how　to。



He　leaned　further　and　further　forward：　　so　far　at　last；　that　the　little

white　lock　of　his　hair　which　hung　out　under　his　cap　was　almost　singed　by

the　fire。　　His　eyes　were　still　open；　but　the　lids　drooped　over　them；　and

his　hands　hung　lower　and　lower　between　his　knees。　　There　was　no　picture

left　on　his　brain　now；　but　simply　an　impress　of　the　blazing　logs　before

him。



Then；　Trooper　Peter　Halket　started。　　He　sat　up　and　listened。　　The　wind　had

gone；　there　was　not　a　sound：　　but　he　listened　intently。　　The　fire　burnt　up

into　the　still　air；　two　clear　red　tongues　of　flame。



Then；　on　the　other　side　of　the　kopje　he　heard　the　sound　of　footsteps

ascending；　the　slow　even　tread　of　bare　feet　coming　up。



The　hair　on　Trooper　Peter　Halket's　forehead　slowly　stiffened　itself。　　He

had　no　thought　of　escaping；　he　was　paralyzed　with　dread。　　He　took　up　his

gun。　　A　deadly　coldness　crept　from　his　feet　to　his　head。　　He　had　worked　a

maxim　gun　in　a　fight　when　some　hundred　natives　fell　and　only　one　white　man

had　been　wounded；　and　he　had　never　known　fear；　but　tonight　his　fingers　were

stiff　on　the　lock　of　his　gun。　　He　knelt　low；　tending　a　little　to　one　side

of　the　fire；　with　his　gun　ready。　　A　stone　half　sheltered　him　from　anyone

coming　up　from　the　other　side　of　the　kopje；　and　the　instant　the　figure

appeared　over　the　edge　he　intended　to　fire。



Then；　the　thought　flashed　on　him；　what；　and　if　it　were　one　of　his　own

comrades　come　in　search　of　him；　and　no　bare…footed　enemy！　　The　anguish　of

suspense　wrung　his　heart；　for　an　instant　he　hesitated。　　Then；　in　a　cold

agony　of　terror；　he　cried　out；　〃Who　is　there？〃



And　a　voice　replied　in　clear；　slow　English；　〃A　friend。〃



Peter　Halket　almost　let　his　gun　drop；　in　the　revulsion　of　feeling。　　The

cold　sweat　which　anguish　had　restrained　burst　out　in　large　drops　on　his

forehead；　but　he　still　knelt　holding　his　gun。



〃What　do　you　want？〃　he　cried　out　quiveringly。



From　the　darkness　at　the　edge　of　the　kopje　a　figure　stepped　out　into　the

full　blaze　of　the　firelight。



Trooper　Peter　Halket　looked　up　at　it。



It　was　the　tall　figure　of　a　man；　clad　in　one　loose　linen　garment；　reaching

lower　than　his　knees；　and　which　clung　close　about　him。　　His　head；　arms；　and

feet　were　bare。　　He　carried　no　weapon　of　any　kind；　and　on　his　shoulders

hung　heavy　locks　of　dark　hair。



Peter　Halket　looked　up　at　him　with　astonishment。　　〃Are　you　alone？〃　he

asked。



〃Yes；　I　am　alone。〃



Peter　Halket　lowered　his　gun　and　knelt　up。



〃Lost　your　way；　I　suppose？〃　he　said；　still　holding　his　weapon　loosely。



〃No；　I　have　come　to　ask　whether　I　may　sit　beside　your　fire　for　a　while。〃



〃Certainly；　certainly！〃　said　Peter；　eyeing　the　stranger's　dress　carefully；

still　holding　his　gun；　but　with　the　hand　off　the　lock。　　〃I'm　confoundedly

glad　of　any　company。　　It's　a　beastly　night　for　anyone　to　be　out　alone。　

Wonder　you　find　your　way。　　Sit　down！　sit　down！〃　　Peter　looked　intently　at

the　stranger；　then　he　put　his　gun　down　at　his　side。



The　stranger　sat　down　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　fire。　　His　complexion　was

dark；　his　arms　and　feet　were　bronzed；　but　his　aquiline　features；　and　the

domed　forehead；　were　not　of　any　South　African　race。



〃One　of　the　Soudanese　Rhodes　brought　with　him　from　the　north；　I　suppose？〃

said　Peter；　still　eyeing　him　curiously。



No；　Cecil　Rhodes　has　had　nothing　to　do　with　my　coming　here；〃　said　the

stranger。



〃Oh〃　said　Peter。　　〃You　didn't　perhaps　happen　to　come　across　a　company　of

men　today；　twelve　white　men　and　seven　coloured；　with　three　cart　loads　of

provisions？　　We　were　taking　them　to　the　big　camp；　and　I　got　parted　from　my

troop　this　morning。　　I've　not　been　able　to　find　them；　though　I've　been

seeking　for　them　ever　since。〃



The　stranger　warmed　his　hands　slowly　at　the　fire；　then　he　raised　his　head：…

…〃They　are　camped　at　the　foot　of　those　hills　tonight；〃　he　said；　pointing