Jane Culpepper, coming into the room a quarter of an hour later, found her father lying in a sort of heap in his chair and quite unconscious. He was carried to bed; and Dr. Davidson was quickly on the spot. The attack, although sufficiently alarming, was pronounced to be not immediately dangerous, and in about a couple of hours the Squire had thoroughly recovered consciousness. His first words, whispered in Jane’s ear, were, “Send for young Bristow.” Jane could hardly believe that she had heard aright, and bent her head again that her father might repeat his words. Then, wondering greatly, she sent off a brief note to Tom, asking him to come up to Pincote with as little delay as possible. Two hours later Tom was there.
By this time the Squire was sufficiently recovered to be able to sit up in bed and talk in a feeble, querulous way, very different from his ordinary bluff, hearty style. Why he had sent for Tom he could not have told any one: he did not know himself. Tom’s name had sprung instinctively to his lips while he was yet only half conscious—a pretty sure proof that Tom’s image must have been in his thoughts previously.
“Bristow,” he said feebly as he held his hand out to Tom, “I want you to do me a favour.”
“You may command me, sir, in any and every way,” was Tom’s hearty answer.
“I have invested a considerable amount of money in the Alcazar Silver Mining Company.”
“Ah!” interjected Tom, and his face lengthened visibly.
“The shares have been going down for this month past—not that I have by any means lost confidence in them—and I want you to go up to London for me, being laid up myself with this cursed gout, and inquire personally into the stability of the concern. I won’t conceal from you that I am slightly anxious and uneasy, although I have Bird’s word for it—clever fellow, Bird, very: you ought to know him—that the present panic is merely a temporary affair, and that the shares will go up again, in a few days, higher than they have ever been yet. In any case, there can be no harm in your making a few private inquiries on my behalf, and reporting the result to me. You are not very busy, I suppose, and you could go up to town—when?” His tone was very anxious as he asked this question.
“By the next train,” answered Tom.
“Good boy—good boy!” said the Squire gratefully. “And you’ll telegraph me, won’t you? Don’t wait to write, but telegraph to me.”
“Don’t think me impertinent if I ask you to tell me the extent of your liabilities as regards the Alcazar Mining Company.”