"You forget one trifle, which is that your territory is totally unfit for colonisation. The land lies as unfavourably as possible, the climate is in the highest degree unhealthy, indeed, in some seasons deadly. The soil is unproductive, and to the most gigantic efforts returns only the smallest results. All the aids of skilful cultivation are utterly wasted, and the few settlers who are scattered here and there are sunk in sickness and misery. They are exposed, utterly defenceless, to the rigour of the most cruel elements, and those who might follow them from Europe would share the same fate."
Sandow listened with ever-growing surprise, and at first words failed him, at last he exclaimed angrily--
"What absurd exaggerations! Who has put such ideas into your head, and how can an utter stranger judge of such circumstances? What can you know of it?"
"I have made the strictest inquiries on the spot. My information is authentic."
"Nonsense! And if it were what have I to do with it? Do you think that you, who have scarcely been a week in the counting-house, can give me instructions in the management of my speculations?"
"Certainly not! But when such a speculation costs the life and health of thousands we are accustomed to call it by a different name."
"By what name?" asked Sandow, threateningly, advancing close to his brother.
Gustave would not be intimidated, but replied firmly--
"Knavery!"
"Gustave!" cried Sandow furiously, "you dare"--