[[2]] The last time.
[[3]] God.
[[4]] Very tall man.
CHAPTER XXVIII
The Chicotte
A small palm, spared for the sake of its welcome shade when the rest of the ground was cleared, sheltered Monsieur Elbel's tent from the fiercest rays of the tropical sun, In the tent Monsieur Elbel, smoking a bad Belgian cigar, his camp chair tilted back to a perilous angle, his feet on a small rickety table, read and re-read with a smile of satisfaction a short official communication that had just reached him from Brussels. Owing to the retirement of the Company's principal agent, and in recognition of Monsieur Elbel's energy in doubling the consignment of rubber from his district during the past year, the Comité had been pleased to appoint Monsieur Elbel to be administrative chief of the Maranga Concession. At the same time the Comité hoped that Monsieur Elbel would see his way to deal promptly and effectively with the reported outbreak at Ilola, without incurring undue expense, and that the American who had been giving trouble, and whose patent was now revoked (with the concurrence of the State) would be persuaded of the necessity of leaving the country.
Monsieur Elbel was gratified by the news of his promotion; although it was his due by all the standards of conduct set up for the guidance of officials, whether State or Trust, charged with the exploitation of Congoland. Under no officer had the development of King Leopold's African dominions gone more blithely forward than under Monsieur Elbel. Where he and his men went they left a wilderness behind them; but the amount of rubber they collected was most gratifying; and if Maranga stock stood high it was largely through their exertions. True, in twenty years there would be no people left in Maranga, even if there were rubber to collect. But after all that was not Monsieur Elbel's concern: in twenty years he would not be on the Congo; those who came after him must find their own collectors. He and the King took short views: sufficient unto the day—they were both men of business. Yes, as a man of affairs Guillaume Elbel was hard to beat. It was no wonder that the Comité had promoted him to the vacant post; if he had been passed by, where would be the inducement to zeal, to loyal faithful service? Where indeed?
In the circumstances Monsieur Elbel was in good humour, a relaxation he rarely allowed himself. He drank the remains of his absinthe, tilted his chair back to the critical angle, and blowing a cloud of smoke skywards saw in the curling eddies visions of snug directorates in Brussels. Why not? He flattered himself there were none who knew more about the Congo than he; he could estimate to a few francs the possibilities of any district as expressed in rubber; and, what is more, he knew how to get it. With him the people always lasted as long as the rubber. There was no waste; he plumed himself on the point. He had never burnt a village before the rubber was exhausted, whatever might be said of other agents. For after all, his business was to promote commerce—that is, collect rubber—not mere destruction. And if he did not know his business there was nobody who could teach him. Yes—his Majesty had an eye to men of his stamp. A directorate—a few directorates—a snug place at Court—who knows? ...
Monsieur Elbel again glanced at the official letter; and again smiled and blew a ring artistically true. Then his eye caught the word "expense," and his expression changed. This Ilola difficulty would not only reduce his rubber consignments; it would mean a considerable outlay—how much he did not like to think. And then there was the column of State troops now on its way. No doubt the Concession would have to pay for that, too. Peste! if only he could finish this business before Van Vorst came up! He did not desire the presence of Van Vorst or any other State officer, if it could be avoided. For there was gold in the stream, without a doubt; and those State officials were greedy rascals; they were capable of edging him out—they had no scruples—his moral claim would go for nothing, absolutely. Yes, the fort must be captured at once before Van Vorst came up. If only he could tap the water supply it would be easy enough. It could be done; the little fool had let out so much; but how?—that was what he had to find out, and his name was not Elbel if he couldn't do it.