"This—this man!" he gasped; then he shook his head impatiently, as if he were fighting against his weakness. "This man Falconer has betrayed me!"
Stafford drew himself up, as he stood by his father's side, and eyed
Falconer sternly.
"Will you explain, Mr. Falconer?" he said.
"Certainly," said Falconer, with a grim calmness. "Your father uses unwarrantably strong language, Mr. Orme, for an action of mine which is quite a common one amongst business men."
"No!" gasped Sir Stephen, as he sank back into the chair. "Treachery is not common—"
"Treachery is the wrong word," said Falconer, as coldly as before. "Better let me explain to Mr. Stafford. I can do so in a few words, Mr. Orme. The fact is, your father and I have been, quite unknown, to each other, engaged in the same scheme. It is nothing more nor less than the acquisition of certain land and rights which carry with them the privilege of constructing a railway in the most promising part of South Africa—"
Sir Stephen leant forward, his head on his hands, his eyes fixed on the heavy, stolid face of the speaker, the face which the keen, hawk-like eyes flashed under the lowered lids with a gleam of power and triumph.
—"Your father had reason to hope that he would acquire those lands and rights; he did not know that I had been waiting for some years past to obtain them. If knowledge is power and money, ignorance is impotence and ruin. My knowledge against your father's ignorance has given me the victory. Last night I gained my point: the news to that effect is no doubt contained in that document. It was a question of price—it always is. I knew your father's bid, and—I went a few thousands higher and got the prize. That's the story in a nutshell. Of course there are a number of complications and details, but I spare you them; in fact, I don't suppose you understand them. It is a mere matter of business"
"No, of revenge!" said Sir Stephen's hollow voice. "Stafford, years ago I did this man a wrong. I—I have repented; I would have made atonement, reparation; but he put the offer aside. Here, in this house, he professed to have forgiven and forgotten—professed friendship. It was a piece of treachery and deceit; under that specious mask, behind that screen, he has worked my ruin!"
"Ruin!" said Stafford, in a low voice. "Surely you exaggerate, father! You mean that you will lose a lot of money—Oh, I can understand that, of course. But not ruin!"