The extravagance of his language alone seemed to me to indicate that he was laboring under some strange delusion. However, diamonds or no diamonds, I was in no position to stir. I cabled him briefly that my business in London was of too vital importance to admit of considering other engagements.
But that did not satisfy Ralston at all. Cable followed cable, urging, imploring, beseeching me to come on, which were invariably answered in the same way. Still I was worried and perplexed. Rumors began to float into London about the discovery of a vast diamond field in the American continent, controlled by the great California banker, W. C. Ralston. Many financiers called on me for information, knowing our relations. Among others, Baron Rothschild sought an interview. He asked me what I knew about the diamond fields, and I frankly showed him Mr. Ralston’s cables. He read them with interest and asked me what I thought myself. I told him that while I had great confidence in Mr. Ralston, I thought he must have been imposed upon in some way, and that in due season the bubble would burst.
BARON ROTHSCHILD
Head of the great financial institution in England in 1872
Baron Rothschild mused a moment. “Do not be so sure of that,” he said. “America is a very large country. It has furnished the world with many surprises already. Perhaps it may have others in store. At any rate, if you find cause to change your opinion, kindly let me know.”
This remark, made by perhaps the keenest financier in the world, was enough to set any one thinking hard.
My position was one of extreme difficulty. The most important engagements of my life demanded my presence in London. Of course I knew that in my absence everything must mark time. But little by little the impression began to grow on me that Mr. Ralston had actually captured a fifty million dollar financial circus and that I was badly needed as ringmaster. His cables did not deal in hopes, but absolute certainties—assured facts. The diamonds were not a dream—a small fortune of them taken from an insignificant trench were already in his possession. Finally came a cable begging me to go to California, if only for the briefest stay, say sixty or ninety days.
I had engaged offices in London for seven years. I could see ahead a vast future of activity and success, and I did not want my selected career broken into by outside distractions, however brief. But I commenced to take the appeals of Mr. Ralston more seriously. Casual expressions of opinion such as the one noted by Baron Rothschild began to stir up my imagination a bit. Could it really be true that there was a place where diamonds could be picked up on ant hills? It was very easy to find out the truth, and if the truth happened to correspond with Mr. Ralston’s statements, then everything else in the world in the way of business or enterprise seemed commonplace and cheap.
I laid the matter before Alfred Rubery, who usually had a level head. He was surprised at my reluctance. “You have your men safely trapped here,” he said. “There is no possibility of escape, and whether they enjoy for a brief time a sense of fancied freedom, matters not in the least. Make up your mind to go to California and find out what all this cable correspondence means. Personally, I am bored to death, just pining for a little bit of excitement. I will go along with you and we will stir up things again in the Far West.”