Doctor Nikola (Windsor Magazine, 1896)/Chapter 2
CHAPTER II.
NIKOLA'S OFFER.
AFTER I had bade Dr. Nikola good night in the veranda of his house I consulted my watch, and discovering that it was not yet eleven, set off for a long walk through, the city in order to consider my position. There were many things to be reckoned for and against his offer. To begin with, as a point in its favour I took into consideration the fact that I was alone in the world. My father and mother had been dead some years, and as I was their only child I had neither brother nor sister dependent upon my exertions or to mourn my loss in case anything desperate should befall me. In the second place I had been a traveller in strange lands from my youth up, and was therefore the more accustomed to hard living. What I mean will be the more readily understood when I say that I had run away from home at the age of fifteen to go to sea; had spent three years in the roughest life before the mast any man could dream of or desire; had got through another five scarcely less savage as an Australian bushman on the borders of the Great Desert; another two in a detachment of the Cape Mounted Police; I had also held a good appointment in Hong-Kong, and had drifted in and out of many other employments good, bad and indifferent. I was thirty-five years of age, had never known what it was to be really sick or sorry, and, if the information is of any use to the world, weighed 13 stone, stood close on 6 foot in my stockings, had gray eyes and dark-brown hair, and if you will not deem me conceited for saying so, had the reputation of being passably good looking.
My position at that moment, financially and otherwise, was certainly precarious in the extreme. It was true if I looked long enough I might find something to do, but on the other hand it was equally probable that I might not, as I knew to my cost there were dozens of men in Shanghai at that moment also on the look-out for employment, who would snap up anything that offered at a moment's notice. Only that morning I had been assured by a well-known merchant, upon whom I had waited in the hope of obtaining a cashiership I had learnt he had vacant in his office, that he could have filled it a hundred times over before my arrival. This being so I told myself that I had no right to neglect any opportunity which might come in my way of bettering my position. I turned Nikola's offer over dispassionately in my mind. Unfortunately a love of adventure formed an integral part of my constitution, and when a temptation such as the present offered it was difficult for me to resist it, and I must confess this particular form of adventure appealed to me with a voice of more than usual strength. What was still more to the point, Nikola was such a born leader of men that the mysterious fascination of his manner seemed to compel me to give him my co-operation whether I would or not. That the enterprise was one involving the chance of death was its most unpleasant feature; but still I told myself I had to die some time or other, while if my luck held good and I came out of it alive £20,000 would render me independent for the rest of my existence. As the thought of all this money came into my mind, the sinister form of my half-caste landlord rose before my mind's eye, and the memory of his ill-written and worse spelled account, which I should certainly receive upon the morrow, descended on me like a cold douche. Yes, my mind was made up, I would go; and having come to this decision I went home.
But when I woke next morning Prudence sat by my bedside. My dreams had not been good ones. I had seen myself poisoned in Chinese monasteries, dismembered by an official headsman before city gates, and tortured in a thousand peculiar ways and places. Though these nightmares were only the natural outcome of my anxiety yet I could not disabuse my mind of the knowledge that everyone was within the sphere of probability. Directly I should have changed into Celestial dress, stained my face and sewn on my pigtail, I would be a Chinaman pure and simple, amenable to Chinese law and liable to Chinese penalties. Then there was another point to be considered. What sort of travelling companion would Nikola prove himself? Would I be able to trust him in moments of danger and difficulty? Would he stand by me as one comrade should by another? And if there turned out to be only an opportunity of escape for one at any time, would Nikola, by virtue of being my employer, seize that chance and leave me to brave the upshot whatever it might be? In that case my £10,000 in the Shanghai Bank and the £10,000 which was to be paid to me on my return would be a little less useful than a worn-out tobacco pouch. And this suggested to my mind another question: Was Nikola sufficiently rich to be able to pay £20,000 to a man to accompany him on such a hairbrained errand? These were all questions of importance, and they were also questions that had to be satisfactorily answered before I could come to any real decision. To set my mind at rest I determined to make inquiries about Nikola from some unbiased person. But who was that person to be? Though Barkston had in formed me that Nikola was so well known throughout the East, though Benwell, of the Chinese Revenue Service, had shown himself so frightened when he had met him face to face in the club, and though I, myself, had heard all sorts of queer stories about him in Saigon and the Manillas, they were none of them sufficiently definite to be any guarantee to me of his monetary stability. I reviewed all my acquaintances in turn but without pitching upon anyone who would be at all likely to be able to help me in my dilemma. Then, while I was dressing, I remembered a man, a merchant, owning one of the largest hongs along the Bund, who was supposed to know more about people in general and queer folk in particular than any man in China.
I ate my breakfast, such as it was, received my account from my landlord with the lordly air of one who has £20,000 reposing at his banker's, lit an excellent cigar in the veranda, and then sauntered down town.
Arriving at the Bund I walked quietly along until I discovered my friend's office. It overlooked the river, and was as fine a building as any in Shanghai. In the main hall I had the good fortune to discover the merchant's chief comprador, who, having made inquiries, learned that his master was disengaged and conducted me forthwith to his presence.
Alexander McAndrew hailed from north of the Tweed—this fact the least observant would have discovered before he had been five minutes in his company. His father had been a night watchman at one of the Glasgow banks, and his own early youth was spent as a ragged, barefooted boy in the streets of that extraordinary city. Of his humble origin McAndrew was prouder than any De la Zouch could possibly have been of friendship with the Conqueror; indeed he was wont, when he entertained friends at his princely bungalow in the English Concession, to recall and dwell upon the sordid circumstances which brought about the happy chance which, one biting winter's morning, led him to seek fame and fortune in the East.
“Why, Mr. Bruce,” he cried, rising from his chair and shaking me warmly by the hand, “this is a most unexpected pleasure! How long have you been in Shanghai?”
“Longer than I care to remember,” I answered, taking the seat he offered me.
“And all that time you have never once been to see me. That's hardly fair treatment of an old friend, is it?”
“I must ask your pardon for my remissness,” I said, “but somehow things have not gone well with me in Shanghai this time, and so I've not been to see anybody. You observe that I am candid with you.”
“I am sorry to hear that you're in trouble,” he said. “I don't want to appear impertinent, but if I can be of any service to you I sincerely hope you will command me.”
“Thank you,” I answered. “I have already determined to do so, for it is to consult you that I have taken the liberty of calling upon you.”
“I am glad of that. Now in what way do you want my advice?”
“Well, to begin with, let me tell you that I have been offered a billet which is to bring me in £20,000.”
“Why, I thought you said things were not prospering with you?” my friend cried. “This doesn't look as if there's much wrong. What is the billet?”
“That, I am sorry to say, I am not at liberty to reveal to anyone.”
“Then in what way can I be of use to you?”
“Well, to begin with, I want to know if you can tell me anything about my employer?”
“Tell me his name and I'll see what I can do,” the merchant answered, not without a show of pride. “I think I know nine out of every ten men of any importance in the East.”
“Well,” I said, “this man's name is Nikola.”
“Nikola!” he cried in complete astonishment, wheeling round to face me. “What possible business can you have with Nikola that is to bring you in £20,000?”
“Business of the very utmost importance,” I answered, “involving almost life and death. But do you happen to know him?”
In reply the old man leant over the table and sank his voice almost to a whisper.
“Bruce,” he said, “I know more of that man than I dare tell you, and if you will take my advice you will back out while you can. If you can't, why, be more than careful what arrangements you make with him.”
“You frighten me,” I said, more impressed by his earnestness than I cared to own. “Is he not good for the money then?”
“Oh, as for the money, I don't doubt that he could pay it a dozen times over if he wanted to,” the worthy merchant replied. “In point of fact, between ourselves, he has the power to draw upon me up to the extent of £50,000.”
“He's a rich man, then? But where on earth does his money come from?”
“Ah! that's a good deal more than I can tell you,” he replied. “But wherever he gets it from, take my advice and think twice before you put yourself into his power. Personally, and I can say it with truth, I don't fear many men, but I do fear Nikola, and that I'm not the only man in the world who does I will prove to you by this letter.”
As he spoke he opened a drawer in his writing-table and took out a couple of sheets of notepaper. Spreading them upon the table before him he smoothed out the page and began to read.
“This you must understand,” he said, “is from the late Colonial Secretary of New South Wales, the Hon. Sylvester Wetherell, a personal friend of mine. He says:—
“'My dear McAndrew,—Since I wrote to you in June last, from London, I have been passing through a time of terrible trouble. As I told you in a letter some years ago, I was brought, quite against my will, into dealings with a most peculiar person named Nikola. Some few years since I defended a man known as China Pete, in our Central Criminal Court, against a charge of murder, and, what was more, got him off. Being unable to pay me he made me a present of all he had to leave, a peculiar little stick, covered with carved Chinese characters, about which he told me an extraordinary story, and which has since nearly proved my undoing. For some inscrutable reason this man Nikola wanted to obtain possession of this stick, and because I refused to let him have it has subjected me to such continuous persecution these few years past as to nearly drive me into a lunatic asylum. Every method that a man could possibly adopt or a demoniacal brain invent to compel me to surrender the curio he tried. You will gather something of what I mean when I tell you that my house was broken into by Chinese burglars, that I was garotted within a hundred yards of my own front door, that my wife and daughter were intimidated by innumerable threatening letters, and indeed to such a state of mind was I at length brought that after my wife died I fled to England to escape him. Nikola followed me, drew into the plot he was weaving about me the Duke of Glenbarth, his son the Marquis of Beckenham, Sir Richard Hatteras, who has since married my daughter, our late Governor, the Earl of Amberley, and at least a dozen other persons. Through his agency the Marquis of Beckingham and Mr. Hatteras mentioned above were decoyed into a house in Port Said and locked up for three weeks, while a spurious nobleman was sent on to his lordship's place to Sydney to become acquainted with my daughter, and finally to solicit her hand in marriage. Fortunately, however, Sir Richard Hatteras and his friend managed to make their escape from custody, followed the scoundrels to Sydney, and warned me of the plot that was hatching against me as soon as possible. The result was disastrous. Foiled in his endeavours to revenge himself on me by marrying my daughter to an impostor, Nikola had the audacity to abduct my girl from a ball at Government House and to convey her on a yacht to an island in the South Pacific, whence a month later we rescued her. Whether we should have been permitted to do so if the stick referred to had not fallen, quite by chance, into Nikola's possession, I cannot say. But the stick did become his property, and now we are free. Since then my daughter has married Sir Richard Hatteras, and at the present moment they are living on his estate in England. I expect you will be wondering why I have not prosecuted this man Nikola, but to tell you the honest truth, McAndrew, I have such a wholesome dread of him that since I have got my girl safely back, and without payment of the large sum—£150,000—he demanded as ransom, I am quite content to say no more about the matter.'
“Now Bruce what do you think of Dr, Nikola?”
“It puts rather a different complexion on affairs, doesn't it? But still, if Nikola will play fair by me, £20,000 is still £20,000. I've been twenty years in this world trying to make money, and this is the sum total of my wealth.”
As I spoke I took out of my pocket all the money I had in the world, half a dozen coins, amounting in English to a total of 6s. 10d. I turned to the merchant.
“I don't know what you will think, but my own opinion is that Nikola's character will have to be a very outrageous one to outweigh £20,000 golden sovereigns.”
“I am afraid you are a little bit reckless, aren't you Bruce?” said McAndrew. “If you will take my advice I should say try for something else, and what is more I'll help you to do so? There is a billet now open in my old friend Webster's office, the salary is a good one and the duties are light. When I saw him this morning it was still unfilled. Why not try for it? If you like I'll give you a letter of introduction to him and will tell him at the same time that I shall consider it a great personal favour if he will take you into his employ.”
“I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you,” I answered warmly. “Yes, I think I will try for it before I give Nikola a reply. May I have the letter now?”
“With pleasure,” he said. “I will write it at once.”
Thereupon he dipped his pen in the ink and composed the epistle. When it was written and I had taken it I thanked him warmly for his kindness and bade him good-bye.
Mr. Webster's hong was at the other end of the Bund, and was another fine building of the usual type. As soon as I was inside I inquired for the merchant, and after a brief wait was admitted to his office. The merchant was Mr. McAndrew's opposite in every way. He was tall, portly, and intensely solemn. He seldom laughed, and when he did his mirth was dry and cheerless like his own exterior. He read my letter carefully through and then said—
“I am exceedingly sorry, Mr. Bruce, that you should have had all this trouble. I should have been only too glad for my friend McAndrew's sake to have taken you into my employ; unfortunately, however, the position in question was filled less than an hour ago.”
“I regret to hear that,” I said with a little sigh of disappointment. “I really am most unfortunate; this makes the thirteenth post I have tried for, as you see unsuccessfully, since I arrived in Shangai.”
“Your luck does indeed seem to be out,” was the reply. “But if you would like to try and put your applications up to an even number I will place you in the way of another. I understand that the Red and Yellow Funnel Steamer Company have a vacancy in their office, and if you would care to come along with me at once I'll take you up and introduce you to the manager myself. In that case he will probably do all he can for you.”
I thanked him for his courtesy, and when he had donned his topee we accordingly set off for the office in question. But another disappointment was in store for me. As in Mr. Webster's own case the vacant post had just been filled? and when we passed out of the manager's sanctum into the main office the newly appointed clerk was already seated upon his high stool making entries in a ledger.
On leaving the building I bade my companion good-bye on the pavement, and then with a heavy heart returned to my own abode. I had not been there ten minutes before my landlord entered my room and without preface, and with the smallest modicum of civility, requested that I would make it convenient to discharge my account that day. As I was quite unable to comply with his request I was compelled to tell him so, and when he left the room there was a decidedly unpleasant coolness between us. For some considerable time after I was alone again I sat wrapped in anxious thought. What was I to do? Every walk of life seemed closed against me; my very living was in jeopardy; and though, if I remained in Shanghai, I might hear of other billets, still I had no sort of guarantee that I should be any more successful in obtaining one of them than I had hitherto been. In the meantime I had to live, and what was more to pay my bill. I could not go away and leave things to take care of themselves, for the reason that I had not the necessary capital for travelling, while if I remained and did not pay I should find myself in the Mixed Court without a doubt.
Such being the desperate condition of my affairs, to accept Dr. Nikola's offer was the only thing open to me. But I was not going to do so without driving a bargain. If he would deposit say £15,000 to my credit in the bank I should be saved, and I should then have a substantial guarantee of his solvency. If not, well I had better bring matters to a climax at once. Leaving the house I returned to the Bund, and seating myself in a shady spot in the gardens carefully reviewed the whole matter. By the time dusk fell my mind was made up—I would go to Nikola.
Exactly at eight o'clock I reached his house and rang the bell. In answer to my peal the native boy who had admitted me on the previous occasion opened the door and informed me that his master was at home and expecting me. Having entered I was conducted to the same apartment in which I had waited for him on the preceding evening. Again for nearly five minutes I was left to myself and my own thoughts, then the door opened and Dr. Nikola entered the room.
“Good evening, Mr. Bruce,” he said. “You are very punctual, and that is not only a pleasant trait in your character, but it is also a good omen, I hope. Shall we go into the next room? We can talk better there.”
I followed him into the adjoining apartment, and at his invitation seated myself in the same chair I had occupied on the previous night. We had not been there half a minute before the black cat made his appearance, and recognising me as an old friend rubbed his head against my leg.
“You see even the cat is anxious to conciliate you,” said Nikola with a queer little smile. “I don't suppose there are five other men in the world with whom he would be as friendly on so short an acquaintance. Now let me hear your decision. Will you come with me, or have you resolved to decline my offer?”
“Under certain conditions I have made up my mind to accompany you,” I said. “But I think it only fair to tell you that those conditions are rather stringent.”
“Let me hear them,” said Nikola, with that gracious affability he could sometimes assume. “Even if they are overpowering I think it will go hard with me if I cannot affect some sort of a compromise with you.”
“Well, to begin with,” I answered, “I shall require you to pay into a bank here the sum of £15,000. If you will do that, and will give me a bill at a year for the rest of the money, I'm your man, and you may count upon my doing everything in my power to serve you.”
“My dear fellow, is that all?” said Nikola quickly. “I will make it £20,000 with pleasure to secure your co-operation. I had no idea it would be the money that would stop you. Excuse me one moment.”
He rose from his chair and went across to a table at the other side of the room. Having seated himself he wrote for two or three moments; then returning handed me a small slip of paper, which I discovered was a cheque for £20,000.
“There is your money,” he said. “You can present it as soon as you like, and the bank will cash it on sight. I think that should about satisfy you as to the genuineness of my motives. Now I suppose you are prepared to throw in your lot with me?”
“Wait one moment,” I said. “That is not all. You have treated me very generously, and this being so it is only fair that I should behave in a similar manner to you.”
“Thank you,” answered Nikola. “What is it you have to say to me now?”
“Do you know a man named Wetherell?”
“Perfectly,” replied Nikola. “He was Colonial Secretary of New South Wales until about six months ago. I have very good reasons for knowing him. I had the honour of abducting his daughter in Sydney and I imprisoned his son-in-law in Port Said. Of course I know him. You see I am also candid with you.”
“Vastly. But pardon the expression, was it altogether a nice transaction?”
“It all depends upon what you consider a nice transaction,” he said. “To you, for instance, who have your own notions of what is right and what is wrong, it might seem a little peculiar. I am in different case however. Whatever I do I consider right. What you might do, in nine cases out of ten, I should consider wrong. Wetherell might have saved himself all trouble by selling me the stick which China Pete gave him, and about which he wrote to McAndrew, who read the letter to you this morning!”
“How do you know he did?”
“How do I know anything?” inquired Nikola. “He did read it, and if you will look at me fixedly for a moment I will tell the exact purport of the rest of your conversation.”
“I don't know that it is necessary,” I replied.
“Nor do I,” said Nikola quietly, and then lit a cigarette. “Are you satisfied with my explanation?”
“Was it an explanation?” I asked.
Nikola only answered with a smile, and lifted the cat on to his knee. He stroked its fur with his long white fingers, at the same time looking at me from under his half closed eyelids.
“Do you know, I like you,” he said after a while. “There's something so confoundedly matter-of-fact about you. You give me the impression every time you begin to speak that you are going to say something out of the common.”
“Thank you.”
“I was going to add that the rest of your sentence invariably shatters that impression.”
“You evidently have a very poor impression of my cleverness.”
“Not at all. I am the one who has to say the smart things, you will have to do them. It is an equal distribution of labour. Now, are we going together or are we not?”
“Yes, I will go with you,” I answered.
“I am delighted,” said Nikola, holding out his hand. “Let us shake hands on it.”
We shook hands, and as we did so he looked me fairly in the face.
“Let me tell you,” he said, “once and for all, if you play fair by me I will stand by you, come what may; but if you shirk one bit of your responsibility—well, you will have only yourself to blame for what happens. That's a fair warning, isn't it?”
“Perfectly,” I answered. “Now will you tell me something of the scheme itself, and when you propose to start?”