The interest upon £1250—an interest to be paid half-yearly—even if it be at so small a rate as 15 per cent., may appear at the time of payment a sum of astonishing magnitude to the needy. It amounts, as the less classical of my readers will at once perceive, to no less than £93, 15s. at the end of every six months; and when the first of these terms approached him in the course of February, Cosmo had the misfortune to find himself for the moment unable to meet it.
I have already indicated to what an exaggerated extent he permitted such little matters to prey upon his mind. I need hardly say that in his distress he went to call upon Mr Harbury.
That excellent friend spoke to him more seriously than he had done upon the first occasion. He pointed out to him that, while debts of the more ordinary sort were often a matter for jest, the exact payment of interest was a duty upon the fulfilment of which a man’s honour was engaged. In a somewhat softer manner, Mr Harbury proceeded to inform Cosmo of the concern which Mr Barnett had begun to take in his career; nor did he conceal from him that, on hearing of his difficulty, the very first thing he had done had been to write to that large-hearted and widely-travelled man whom he (Mr Harbury) regarded almost in the light of a father. Rising at the close of this conversation, he laid his hand, not without dignity, upon the young man’s shoulder, and begged him to dismiss all further thought of the matter from his mind.... It would have been evident to a meaner intelligence than that of Mr Burden’s son, that he had once more been saved by agencies whose power he had long admired, and whose character he had begun to revere.
From that moment he threw himself with a kind of zeal into the companionship of such friends. The ensuing spring was largely passed in their society. Gratitude alone would have compelled him to frequent their houses: to gratitude, admiration was added, and to admiration a sudden access of a sense of familiarity, when he discovered that no less a person than Charles Benthorpe was very often a fellow guest with himself.
The historic name which this young man bore so easily; the consummate knowledge of the world which he had acquired as the companion of his father’s official life, the public reputation of the family, and to some extent the titular honour it boasted, had drawn Cosmo warmly towards the enjoyment of Charles Benthorpe’s friendship, during their contemporary residence at the University.
Nay more, Lord Benthorpe himself, as Cosmo discovered with astonishment and pleasure, was, in a manner, the familiar of these few who had at heart the glory of England in the delta of the great African river. Often as the name M’Korio would enter into the conversation, still more often would the experience, and occasionally the name, of Lord Benthorpe accompany the judgment of Mr Harbury, of Mr Barnett, and of that Major Pondo, whom it will be my business upon a later page to describe. Charles Benthorpe, in spite of the reserve which properly accompanies exalted social rank, was not unwilling to describe his father’s attitude upon those Imperial matters whereof that statesman’s long political and administrative experience had given him an exhaustive knowledge.
Nor was it only the name and opinions of Lord Benthorpe that mingled with their discussions. Once his lordship came in person to a dinner of Mr Barnett’s, and was willing to express by word of mouth his strong faith in the future of the M’Korio Delta. Upon another occasion, Mr Harbury was able to read a letter from him, regretting the peer’s inability to address a small private meeting upon the potentialities of the M’Korio, potentialities which, in his absence, were set forth by that Major Pondo, with whom, as I have just remarked, and shall probably remark again, a future page must deal.
Were it my task (which I thank Heaven it is not) to compose a work of fiction, I should attempt to exclude all persons and scenes irrelevant to the simple current of my story. The more suitable, but I fear less entertaining, relation upon which I am engaged permits no such artistic selection: I am compelled to describe all those who in any principal way entered the last days of Mr Burden’s life, and, delicate as is the business of portraying a living peer and politician, it is my duty to present (with all the reticence and courtesy due to such a figure) the character of Lord Benthorpe.
To this end I must first sketch, in the most summary manner, that distinguished family history upon which depends no small part of the affection and esteem in which all Englishmen delight to hold him.