Jack attended the wool-sales pretty regularly, and saw the clips which were undeniably well got up sell at good prices, in spite of the general dullness of the market. The clip was an unusually heavy one, and every day’s train brought down trucks upon trucks of bales, as if the interior of Australia was one colossal wool-store, just being emptied at the command of an enchanter. But the “heavy and moity” parcels were not touched by the cautious operators at any price. So Jack groaned in spirit, doubting that he might come in for a low market at home, and knowing that he would have saved himself but for the woful work of the incendiaries. He did not derive much comfort from the daring spirits whose early and successful ventures had inspired him with the first ideas of changing his district. They walked about like people who owned a private bank, but upon which bank there happened to be, at present, a run. They were, as a rule, men far too resolute to give in during adversity, or the threatening of any, how wild soever, commercial tempest. Still they looked sternly defiant, as who should say—“to bear is to conquer our fate.” Jack did not enjoy the probabilities. These were brass pots of approved strength for floating in the eddying financial torrents. Might not he, an earthen vessel, meet with deadly damage, fatal cracks, irrevocable immersion, in their company? “Que diable allait-il faire dans cette galère?”
He sent up his stores, making a close calculation as to quantity. There would not be so many men required after this shearing. The paddocks were all finished, and few hands would be needed. Then he had doors and windows, and hinges and nails, and tons of galvanized iron for roofing for the shed—all over again. Confound it! Just as a fellow was hoping to get a little straight. Jack did feel very unchristian. However, it was as necessary as tea and sugar—that is, if he ever intended to get a decent price for his wool again. Somewhat earlier in the season than usual, Jack commenced to revolve the question of a start. Then he bethought himself of Mr. Mildmay Shrood.
“I wonder what he wanted to see me for?” asked Jack of his inner consciousness; “very civil, friendly little fellow he is. I suspect my over-draft is pretty heavy just now. But the fencing is all done, that’s a blessing. And forty thousand sheep and a first-class run are good security for more money than I’m ever likely to owe.”
So Mr. Redgrave hied away to the grand freestone portals which guarded the palace of gold and silver, and the magic paper which gladdeneth the heart of man, who reflecteth not that it is but a fiction—a “baseless fabric”—an unsubstantial presentment of the potentiality of boundless wealth.
Mr. Shrood was examining papers when he was ushered into the sacred parlour, and looked rather more like the dragon in charge of the treasure than the careless, openhanded financier of Jack’s previous experience, whose sole business in life seemed to be to provide cheque-books ad infinitum with graceful indifference. As he ran his eye down column after column of figures, his brow became corrugated, his jaw became set, and his face gradually assumed an expression of hardness and obstinacy.
Throwing down the last of the papers, and clearing his brow with sudden completeness, he shook hands affectionately with Jack, and gently anathematized the papers for their tediousness and stupidity.
“Awfully wearing work, Mr. Redgrave, this looking over the accounts of a large estate. I feel as fatigued as if I had been at it all night. How are you, and when do you leave?”
“I think the day after to-morrow,” said Jack. “I’m really tired of town, and wish to get home again.”
“Tired of the town, and of all its various pleasures,” asked Mr. Shrood, “at your age? Well, of course you are anxious to be at work again—very creditable feeling. By the way, by the way, now I think of it—you haven’t encumbered your place by mortgage or in any other way during the last year, have you?”
“Sir,” replied Jack, with dignity, “I regard my property as pledged in honour to your bank, by which I have been treated hitherto with liberality and confidence. I trust that our relations may continue unaltered.”