She had confessed her affection for Roddy, and had spoken of the young man’s high hopes and aspirations, and shown her father a hasty letter she had received from him announcing the fact that the concession for emerald mining had actually been granted to him by the Moorish Minister, Mohammed ben Mussa.
A new thought arose in Mr Sandys’ mind. If Roddy had really been granted the concession for the mines known to exist there—and he had made some searching inquiries during the past week or so—then by dealing with it he might, after all, be able to raise sufficient money to discharge part of the immense liabilities of the firm, and thus stem the tide which must otherwise rise in the course of the next few days and overwhelm him.
Elma’s father spoke quite openly concerning the situation.
“In that case Roddy could marry me, dad,” she said. “And further, even if he had no concession, I am poor enough now to marry a poor man,” she added.
“Yes, my child,” was his reply. “If what young Homfray says is true then he can be the saviour of our firm and of our family. I confess I have taken a great liking to the young fellow. I have liked him all along.”
Then Elma flung herself into her father’s arms and kissed him again and again, with tears of joy. Strangely enough her father’s ruin had brought about her own happiness.
It was at that moment when the footman entered, and said:
“Mr Homfray has called, sir, and I told him that you were not at home, as you ordered.”
Elma looked at her father dismayed.
“Has he gone?” she gasped, her face falling.