“Perhaps. Still, that slowness should not extend to every function of life,” replied Peter severely.
“You think not? Well, perhaps you are right, although I must confess that I do dislike to be hustled, as the saying is. My mind works slowly when it condescends to work at all, and my body rather accommodates itself to my mental condition. You appear to be under the impression that my affairs at the moment need the spur rather than the curb. Am I right in that conjecture?”
“Why, my lord, if ever there was a transaction where speed is the essence of the contract, as the lawyers say, it is the present condition of your gold property.”
“Why, I fail to see that, Mackeller. I buy a property for, say, thirty-five thousand pounds. I receive a check for sixty-five thousand from the estimable Mr. Schwartzbrod and his colleagues. I have therefore acquired what you state is a valuable property for nothing, and there is bestowed upon me a bonus of thirty thousand pounds in addition for taking it over. Whether or not any gold exists on the west coast of Africa, there certainly reposes thirty thousand golden sovereigns at my disposal in the bank; sovereigns which yesterday I did not possess, so I think I have concluded the deal very creditably for a sluggish-brained person like myself, and after such a profitable bit of mental exertion it seems to me I am entitled to a rest, but here you come, bristling with energy, and say ‘Let’s hurry.’ In Heaven’s name, why? I’ve finished the transaction.”
“Finished?” cried Mackeller. “Finished? Bless my soul, we’ve only just begun. Do you understand that the tramp steamer Rajah, with some hundred and fifty hired thieves aboard, is making as fast as steam can push her through the waters, for your property, with intent to loot the same? Do you comprehend that that steamer has been loaded by myself with the most modern surface-mining machinery, with dynamite, with provisions, with every facility for the speedy robbing of those gold fields, and that you have given that pirate Schwartzbrod a document acquitting him of all liability in the premises?”
“Yes, Peter, I suppose things are very much as you state them, but your tone implies that somehow I am to blame in the matter. I assure you that it is not my fault, but the fault of circumstances. Then why worry about a thing I am not in the least responsible for? You are not censuring me, I hope?”
“No, my lord, I have no right to censure you whatever happens.”
“Oh, don’t let any question of right suppress a just indignation, Mackeller. If you think I’m guilty of negligence, pray give expression to your feelings by the use of any combination of words that brings relief. Don’t mind me. I really very much admire the use of terse language, although I have been denied the gift of emphatic denunciation myself.”
“Don’t you intend to do anything, my lord?”
“Yes, I intend to enjoy my breakfast, and really, if you knew how tasty this coffee is, you would yield to my pleadings and indulge in at least one cup.”