Singular! What Gustave's energetic representations could not produce, this childish chatter had succeeded in doing. The earnest warnings of his brother had brought no effect on the merchant, he cast them off contemptuously as "sentimental notions," as the "ideas of a novice," and finally silenced him with a threat.
He had long been unaccustomed to take the weal and woe of others into consideration in his calculations. "One must reckon with men as with figures!" That was the principle of his life, and the foundation of his riches. Even in this speculation which had been proposed to him by his correspondent, he had reckoned with them, and it had not once occurred to him that men's lives should be thought of too. And now an inexperienced child, who had no idea of the effect her words could produce, had dared to speak thus to him. The words worked and fermented in him, he could not tear the thoughts from him.
"How much care and anxiety such a ship bears, how many hopes and fears!" Sandow had experienced that too, he too had landed here with his shattered hopes, with the last despairing attempt to begin a new life here. Success had come to him, friends and relations had held out a helping hand to him. Without that, he also might have succumbed.
But still came hundreds of ships, and the thousands that they carried had made also their last venture, gazed also fearfully around for any helping hand which might be stretched out to them. There was still room for many here, and the New World might look more benevolently on them than the Old.
But, whoever seized the hand which Jenkins and Co. stretched out to them, went to their ruin. And there was room for so many in that district, where famine and fever awaited them. They had bought that enormous territory for a song, and must at any price people it, to pocket the hoped-for enormous gain. There were really men who sent their brothers to destruction to enrich themselves.
Sandow sprang suddenly up. He would tear himself from these thoughts, which seemed burnt into his memory, from these words, which haunted him like spectres. He could endure the monotonous roar of the sea no longer, and the mist lay like a heavy weight upon his breast. It literally hunted him from the place and into the house. But it was in vain that he locked himself into his room, that he buried himself in letters and despatches. Outside the sea roared and rolled, and something within him arose and struggled upwards--upwards--something which had lain asleep for years, and at last awoke--his conscience!
CHAPTER VII.
Jessie sat in the garden and drew, and opposite to her in the arbour sat Gustave Sandow. He had just returned from town, where he had occupied himself about everything imaginable, except, alas! the one thing which was expected from the future head of the house of Clifford. He had not even set his foot within the counting-house. For there were so many other things to attend to. First he had visited a rich banker in the town, who had just received from Europe a costly painting on which he wished Gustave's opinion. As both owner and critic were alike eager on the subject, the inspection extended itself over the whole, tolerably valuable picture gallery of the banker, and occupied several hours.
After that, both gentlemen drove to a great meeting on some town interests, and at which Mr. Sandow, jun., was an eager and interested listener.
In conclusion, he had a small private meeting which some gentlemen of the press had called together in honour of their former colleague. The state of affairs in Germany and America was here thoroughly examined, and meanwhile it had become so late, that Gustave considered it quite unnecessary to visit his brother's office. He preferred driving direct to the villa to keep the ladies company.