Power of the Sword - Smith Wilbur (читать книги онлайн регистрации .TXT) 📗
Honour, the words blazed in his mind, honour and duty. He groaned silently as on the other side of his brain another word burned as fiercely: love'.
The woman who lay beside him had set no price upon her love. She had made no terms, no bargains, but had simply given without asking in return. Rather than demanding she had given him quittance; it was she who had insisted that no other person should be hurt by their happiness. Freely she had heaped upon him all the sweets of her love without asking the smallest price, not the gold band and vows of marriage, not even promises or assurances, and he had offered nothing. Until this moment there had been nothing for him to give her in repayment.
on the other hand he had been singled out by a great and good man who had placed unquestioning trust in him.
Honour and duty on one hand, love on the other. This time there was no escape from the lash of his conscience. VVho would he betray, the man he revered or the woman he loved?
He could not lie still another moment and stealthily he lifted the sheet. Centaine's eyelids fluttered; she made a little mewling sound and then settled deeper into sleep.
The previous evening she had laid out a new razor and toothbrush on the washstand in the bathroom for him, and this little thoughtfulness goaded him further. The agony of indecision scourged him as he shaved and dressed.
He tiptoed back into the bedroom and stood beside the bed.
I could walk away, he thought. She will never know of my treachery. And then he wondered at his choice of word.
Was it treachery to keep intact his honour, to cleave to his duty?
He forced the thought aside and made his decision.
He reached down and touched her eyelids. They fluttered open. She looked up at him, her pupils very black and big and unfocused. Then they contracted and she smiled, a comfortable sleepy contented smile.
Darling, she murmured, what time is it? Centaine, are you awake? She sat up quickly, and exclaimed with dismay. Oh Blaine. You are dressed, so soon! Listen to me, Centaine. This is very important. Are you listening? She nodded, blinking the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes, and stared at him solemnly.
Centaine, we are going off gold, he said, and his voice was harsh, rough with self-contempt and guilt. They made the decision yesterday, Ou Baas and Barry Hertzog. We'll be off gold by the time the markets re-open in the New Year. She stared at him blankly for a full five seconds and then suddenly it struck her and her eyes flared wide open, but then slowly the fire in them faded again.
Oh God, my darling, what it must have cost you to tell me that, she said, and her voice shook with compassion, for she understood his sense of honour and knew the depths of his duty. You do love me, Blaine. You do truly love me.
I believe it now. Yet he was glaring at her. She had never seen such an expression on his face before. It was almost as though he hated her for what he had done. She couldn't bear that look, and she scrambled onto her knees in the centre of the rumpled bed and held out her arms in appeal.
Blaine, I won't use it. I won't use what you have told me and he snarled at her, his face contorted with guilt: That way you would let me make this sacrifice for nought. Don't hate me for it, Blaine, she pleaded, and the anger faded from his face.
Hate you? he asked sadly. No, Centaine, that I could never do. He turned and strode from the room.
She wanted to run after him, to try and comfort him, but she knew that it was beyond even the power of her great love. She sensed that, like a wounded lion, he had to be alone, and she listened to his heavy footfalls receding down the path through the plantation outside her window.
Centaine sat at her desk at Weltevreden. She was alone, and in the centre of her desk stood the ivory and brass telephone.
She was afraid. What she was about to do would place her far beyond the laws of society and the courts. She was at the begiming of a journey into uncharted territory, a lonely dangerous journey which could end for her in disgrace and imprisonment.
The telephone rang and she started, and stared at the instrument fearfully. It rang again and she drew a deep breath and lifted the handset.
Your call to Rabkin and Swales, Mrs Courtney, her secretary told her. I have Mr Swales on the line. Thank you, Nigel. She heard the hollow tone of her voice and cleared her throat.
Mrs Courtney, She recognized Swales voice. He was the senior partner in the firm of stockbrokers and she had dealt with him before. 'May I wish you the compliments of the festive season. Thank you, Mr Swales. Her voice was crisp and businesslike. I have a buying order for you, Mr Swales. I'd like it filled before the market closes today. Of course, Swales assured her. We will complete it immediately. Please buy at best five hundred thousand East Rand Proprietary Mines, she said, and there was an echoing silence in the earphones.
Five hundred thousand, Mrs Courtney, Swales repeated at last. 'ERP.M. are standing at twenty-two and six. That is almost six hundred thousand pounds. Exactly, Centaine agreed.
Mrs Courtney, Swales stopped.
Is there some problem, Mr Swales? No, of course not. None at all. You caught me by surprise, that's all. just the size of the order. I will get onto it right away., I will post you my cheque in full settlement just as soon as I receive your contract note for the purchase. She paused, and then went on icily, Unless, of course, you require me to send you a deposit immediately. She held her breath.
Nowbere could she raise even the deposit that Swales was entitled to ask for.
Oh dear, Mrs Courtney! I hope you didn't think, I must sincerely apologize for having led you to think that I might question your ability to pay. There is absolutely no hurry.
We will post you the contract note in the usual way. Your credit with Rabkin and Swales is always good. I hope to confirm the purchase for you by tomorrow morning at the very latest. As you are no doubt aware, tomorrow is the final trading day before the Christmas recess. Her hands were shaking so violently that she had trouble setting the handset of the telephone on its hook.
What have I done? she whispered, and she knew the answer. She had committed a criminal act of fraud, the maximum penalty for which was ten years imprisonment.
She had just contracted a debt which she had no reasonable expectation of honouring. She was bankrupt, she knew she was bankrupt, and she had just taken on another half million pounds obligation. She was taken with a fit of remorse and she reached for the telephone to cancel the order, but it rang before she touched it.
Mrs Courtney, I have Mr Anderson of Hawkes and Giles on the line. Put him on, please Nigel, she ordered, and she was amazed that there was no tremor in her voice as she said, casually, Mr Anderson, I have a purchase order for you, please. By noon she had telephoned seven separate firms of stockbrokers in Johannesburg and placed orders for the purchase of gold-mining shares to the value of five and a half million pounds. Then at last her nerve failed her.
Nigel, cancel the other two calls, please, she said calmly, and ran to her private bathroom at the end of the passage with her hands over her mouth.
just in time she fell to her knees in front of the white porcelain toilet bowl and vomited into it a hard projectile stream, bringing up her terror and shame and guilt, heaving and retching until her stomach was empty and the muscles of her chest ached and her throat burned as though it had been scalded raw with acid.
Christmas Day had always been one of their very special days since Shasa was a child, but she awoke this morning in a sombre mood.
Still in their night clothes and dressing-gowns, she and
Shasa exchanged their presents in her suite. He had hand painted a special card for her, and decorated it with pressed wild flowers. His present to her was Francois Mauriac's new no!el Noeud de Vip&res and he had inscribed on the flyleaf: No matter what, we still have each other Shasa.
