



Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer





A MILLIONAIRE OF YESTERDAY

By E. Phillips Oppenheim




CHAPTER I


"Filth," grunted Trent--"ugh! I tell you what it is, my venerable
friend--I have seen some dirty cabins in the west of Ireland and some
vile holes in East London. I've been in some places which I can't think
of even now without feeling sick. I'm not a particular chap, wasn't
brought up to it--no, nor squeamish either, but this is a bit thicker
than anything I've ever knocked up against. If Francis doesn't hurry
we'll have to chuck it! We shall never stand it out, Monty!"

The older man, gaunt, blear-eyed, ragged, turned over on his side. His
appearance was little short of repulsive. His voice when he spoke was,
curiously enough, the voice of a gentleman, thick and a trifle rough
though it sounded.

"My young friend," he said, "I agree with you--in effect--most heartily.
The place is filthy, the surroundings are repulsive, not to add
degrading. The society is--er--not congenial--I allude of course to our
hosts--and the attentions of these unwashed, and I am afraid I must
say unclothed, ladies of dusky complexion is to say the least of it
embarrassing."

"Dusky complexion!" Trent interrupted scornfully, "they're coal black!"

Monty nodded his head with solemn emphasis. "I will go so far as to
admit that you are right," he acknowledged. "They are as black as sin!
But, my friend Trent, I want you to consider this: If the nature of our
surroundings is offensive to you, think what it must be to me. I may,
I presume, between ourselves, allude to you as one of the people.
Refinement and luxury have never come in your way, far less have they
become indispensable to you. You were, I believe, educated at a
Board School, I was at Eton. Afterwards you were apprenticed to a
harness-maker, I--but no matter! Let us summarise the situation."

"If that means cutting it short, for Heaven's sake do so," Trent
grumbled. "You'll talk yourself into a fever if you don't mind. Let's
know what you're driving at."

"Talking," the elder man remarked with a slight shrug of his shoulders,
"will never have a prejudicial effect upon my health. To men of
your--pardon me--scanty education the expression of ideas in speech is
doubtless a labour. To me, on the other hand, it is at once a pleasure
and a relief. What I was about to observe is this: I belong by birth
to what are called, I believe, the classes, you to the masses. I have
inherited instincts which have been refined and cultivated, perhaps
over-cultivated by breeding and associations--you are troubled with
nothing of the sort. Therefore if these surroundings, this discomfort,
not to mention the appalling overtures of our lady friends, are
distressing to you, why, consider how much more so they must be to me!"

Trent smiled very faintly, but he said nothing. He was sitting
cross-legged with his back against one of the poles which supported
the open hut, with his eyes fixed upon the cloud of mist hanging over
a distant swamp. A great yellow moon had stolen over the low range of
stony hills--the mist was curling away in little wreaths of gold. Trent
was watching it, but if you had asked him he would have told you that
he was wondering when the alligators came out to feed, and how near the
village they ventured. Looking at his hard, square face and keen,
black eyes no one would surely have credited him with any less material
thoughts.

"Furthermore," the man whom Trent had addressed as Monty continued,
"there arises the question of danger and physical suitability to
the situation. Contrast our two cases, my dear young friend. I am
twenty-five years older than you, I have a weak heart, a ridiculous
muscle, and the stamina of a rabbit. My fighting days are over. I
can shoot straight, but shooting would only serve us here until our
cartridges were gone--when the rush came a child could knock me over.
You, on the contrary, have the constitution of an ox, the muscles of a
bull, and the wind of an ostrich. You are, if you will pardon my saying
so, a magnificent specimen of the animal man. In the event of trouble
you would not hesitate to admit that your chances of escape would be
at least double mine." Trent lit a match under pretence of lighting his
pipe--in reality because only a few feet away he had seen a pair of
bright eyes gleaming at them through a low shrub. A little native boy
scuttled away--as black as night, woolly-headed, and shiny; he had crept
up unknown to look with fearful eyes upon the wonderful white strangers.
Trent threw a lump of earth at him and laughed as he dodged it.

"Well, go ahead, Monty," he said. "Let's hear what you're driving at.
What a gab you've got to be sure!"

Monty waved his hand--a magnificent and silencing gesture.

"I have alluded to these matters," he continued, "merely in order
to show you that the greater share of danger and discomfort in this
expedition falls to my lot