A Bid for Fortune | Page 5

your whole and entire labour.
While you are serving me you are mine body and soul. I know you are
trustworthy. I have had good proof that you are--pardon the
expression--unscrupulous, and I flatter myself you are silent. What is
more, I shall tell you nothing beyond what is necessary for the carrying
out of my scheme, so that you could not betray me if you would. Now
for my plans!"
He sat down again and took a paper from his pocket. Having perused it,
he turned to Eastover.
"You will leave at once--that is to say, by the boat on Wednesday--for
Sydney. You will book your passage to-morrow morning, first thing,
and join her in Plymouth. You will meet me to-morrow evening at an
address I will send you, and receive your final instructions.
Good-night."
Seeing that he was expected to go, Eastover rose, shook hands, and left
the room without a word. He was too astonished to hesitate or to say
anything.
Nikola took another letter from his pocket and turned to Prendergast.
"You will go down to Dover to-night, cross to Paris to-morrow morning,
and leave this letter personally at the address you will find written on it.
On Thursday, at half-past two precisely, you will deliver me an answer

in the porch at Charing Cross. You will find sufficient money in that
envelope to pay all your expenses. Now go!"
"At half-past two you shall have your answer. Good-night."
"Good-night."
When Prendergast had left the room, Dr. Nikola lit another cigar and
turned his attentions to Mr. Baxter.
"Six months ago, Mr. Baxter, I found for you a situation as tutor to the
young Marquis of Beckenham. You still hold it, I suppose?"
"I do."
"Is the father well disposed towards you?"
"In every way. I have done my best to ingratiate myself with him. That
was one of your instructions."
"Yes, yes! But I was not certain that you would succeed. If the old man
is anything like what he was when I last met him he must still be a
difficult person to deal with. Does the boy like you?"
"I hope so."
"Have you brought me his photograph as I directed?"
"I have. Here it is."
Baxter took a photograph from his pocket and handed it across the
table.
"Good. You have done very well, Mr. Baxter. I am pleased with you.
To-morrow morning you will go back to Yorkshire----"
"I beg your pardon, Bournemouth. His Grace owns a house near
Bournemouth, which he occupies during the summer months."

"Very well--then to-morrow morning you will go back to Bournemouth
and continue to ingratiate yourself with father and son. You will also
begin to implant in the boy's mind a desire for travel. Don't let him
become aware that his desire has its source in you--but do not fail to
foster it all you can. I will communicate with you further in a day or
two. Now go."
Baxter in his turn left the room. The door closed. Dr. Nikola picked up
the photograph and studied it.
"The likeness is unmistakable--or it ought to be. My friend, my very
dear friend, Wetherell, my toils are closing on you. My arrangements
are perfecting themselves admirably. Presently, when all is complete, I
shall press the lever, the machinery will be set in motion, and you will
find yourself being slowly but surely ground into powder. Then you
will hand over what I want, and be sorry you thought fit to baulk Dr.
Nikola!"
He rang the bell and ordered his bill. This duty discharged, he placed
the cat back in its prison, shut the lid, descended with the basket to the
hall, and called a hansom. The porter inquired to what address he
should order the cabman to drive. Dr. Nikola did not reply for a
moment, then he said, as if he had been thinking something out: "The
Green Sailor public-house, East India Dock Road."
CHAPTER I
I DETERMINE TO TAKE A HOLIDAY.--SYDNEY, AND WHAT
BEFEL ME THERE
First and foremost, my name, age, description, and occupation, as they
say in the Police Gazette. Richard Hatteras, at your service, commonly
called Dick, of Thursday Island, North Queensland, pearler, copra
merchant, bêche-de-mer and tortoiseshell dealer, and South Sea trader
generally. Eight-and-twenty years of age, neither particularly
good-looking nor, if some people are to be believed, particularly
amiable, six feet two in my stockings, and forty-six inches round the
chest; strong as a Hakodate wrestler, and perfectly willing at any

moment to pay ten pounds sterling to the man who can put me on my
back.
And big shame to me if I were not so strong, considering the free,
open-air, devil-may-care life I've led. Why, I was doing man's work at
an age when most boys are wondering when