“I think I had better see him myself,” said Fossbrooke, after patiently listening to Tom Lendrick's account of his meeting with his grandfather. “It is possible I may be able to smooth down matters a little, and dispose the old gentleman, besides, to accord us some aid in our Sardinian project, for I have resolved upon that, Tom.”
“Indeed, sir; the gold-mine?”
“No, the lead,—the lead and silver. In the rough calculation I made last night on this slip of paper, I see my way to something like seven thousand a year to begin with; untold wealth will follow. There are no less than eleven products available,—the black lead of pencils and the white used by painters being the chief; while in my new salt, which I am disposed to call the 'pyrochloride of plumbium,' we have a sedative that will allay the pangs of hydrophobia.”
“I wish it would quiet the Chief Baron,” muttered Tom; and Sir Brook, not hearing him correctly, continued,—“I think so,—I think the Chief Baron eminently calculated to take a proper estimate of my discovery. A man of fine intellect is ever ready to accept truth, albeit it come in a shape and through a channel in which he has himself not pursued it. Will you write a line to your sister and ask if it would be his Lordship's convenience to receive me, and at what time?”
“Of course, sir, whatever you wish,” said Tom, in some confusion; “but might I ask if it be your intention to ask my grandfather to aid me with his purse?”
“Naturally. I mean that he should, by advancing, let us say, eight hundred pounds, put you in a position to achieve a speedy fortune. He shall see, too, that our first care has been your sister's interests. Six-sixteenths of the profits for fifty years are to be hers; three each we reserve for ourselves; the remaining four will form a reserve fund for casualties, a capital for future development, and a sum at interest to pay superannuations, with some other objects that you will find roughly jotted down here, for which, however, they will amply suffice. I take it his Lordship knows something of metallurgy, Tom?” “I believe he knows a little of everything.” “Chemistry I feel sure he must have studied.” “I won't answer for the study; but you 'll find that when you come to talk with him, you 'll scarcely wander very far out of his geography. But I was going to say, sir, that I 'm not quite easy at the thought of asking him for money.”
“It's not money—at least, it's no gift—we require of him. We are in possession of a scheme certain to secure a fortune. We know where a treasure lies hid, and we want no more than the cost of the journey to go and fetch it. He shall be more than repaid. The very dispositions we make in your sister's favor will show him in what spirit we mean to deal. It is possible—I am willing to own it—it is possible I might approach a man of inferior intelligence with distrust and fear, but in coming before Baron Lendrick I have no misgivings. All my experience of life has shown me that the able men are the generous men. In the ample stretch of their minds they estimate mankind by larger averages, and thus they come to see that there is plenty of good in human nature.”
“I believe the old Judge is clever enough, and some speak very well of his character; but his temper—his temper is something that would swallow up all the fine qualities that ever were accorded to one man; and even if you were about to go on a mission I liked better, I 'd say, Don't ask to see him, don't expose yourself to the risk of some outrageous affront,—something you could n't bear and would n't resent.”
“I have never yet found myself in the predicament you speak of,” said Sir Brook, drawing himself up haughtily, “nor do I know of any contingency in life from which I could retreat on account of its perils. It may be, indeed it is, more than likely, from what you tell me, that I shall make no appeal to your grandfather's generosity; but I shall see him to tender your regrets for any pain you may have caused him, and to tell also so much of our future intentions as it is becoming the head of your house should hear. I also desire to see your sister, and say good-bye.”
“Ask her to let me do so too. I can't go away without seeing her again.” Tom took a turn or two up and down the room as though he had not made up his mind whether to say something or not. He looked out of the window, possibly in search of something to distract his thoughts, and then turning suddenly about, he said: “I was thinking, sir, that if it was your opinion—mind, I don't want to insinuate that it ought to be, or even that it is my own—but that if you came to the conclusion that my sister was not happy with my grandfather—that her life was one of depression and suffering—what would you say to her coming along with us?”