Читать книгу The Golden Rose - Fred M. White - Страница 8

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Lethbridge started to his feet and took a step or two forward. He was strangely moved, his excitement dictated by something more than mere enthusiasm at the knowledge of this startling discovery. In any case he would have been impressed and interested. He had not forgotten the many occasions on which he and his uncle had discussed the chances of reproducing the marvellous flower. But these had nothing but the pleasant speculations of two enthusiasts in the presence of a new and fascinating theory.

In all probability the rose had never existed. It had been merely a legend written about by ancient writers with more imagination than practical knowledge. In bygone days Jasper Payn had possessed a magnificent library of books relating to horticulture, and some of these volumes were rare indeed. Strangely enough, though most of them retold the story of the Golden Rose in various forms, attributing it to different sources, not one of these authorities differed materially as to the appearance of the flower. It was this fact alone that kept John Lethbridge from pooh-poohing the story altogether. More than once he had experimented on the chance of producing something like it. He knew perfectly well that, if the discovery could be effected, a vast fortune awaited the lucky man who should accomplish it, and many a day had he spent working upon the theory that the Golden Rose could be brought within the practical limits of the modern garden.

Perhaps Lethbridge had been carried farther by his enthusiasm than he knew. As regards flowers, he was like the poor creature who has become the victim of the drink habit. He pitied and despised his own weakness, a weakness which he was powerless to combat. He had gone on with his experiments, feeling sure that he was wasting his time, and spending money he could ill spare.

And yet what did it matter? It was good for man to have some sort of goal, and the Golden Rose had been his. And he was startled and perhaps jealous to find that Jasper Payn would reach the goal first. Even now he could hardly believe the evidence of his ears, and was inclined to put all this down to the vain boastings of an old man on the verge of his second childhood. He felt half-contemptuous at his own excitement. He resumed his seat and muttered something intended to be congratulatory.

"Won't you show it to me?" he asked.

"No, no," Jasper Payn cried, "not to anybody, not even to you! I don't know why I told you at all. Perhaps it was because of the recollection of the old days when we worked together and talked far into the night about the possibilities of this triumph. But I have got it, I tell you! It is yonder behind that screen."

"You are quite sure?" Lethbridge asked. "You have made no mistake?"

"Mistake! Why the tree is actually in bloom, three glorious blooms, too! The thing only came to me by accident. I should like to take all the credit to myself, but I can't quite do that." Jasper Payn was apparently speaking to himself. He seemed to have forgotten his companion. He walked slowly up and down the greenhouse muttering something which Lethbridge could not match, a kind of sombre triumph in his eyes.

"Then you won't let me see it?" Lethbridge asked.

Payn shook his head. The conviction was gradually being forced upon Lethbridge that the old man was not telling the truth. It was either this, or he was the victim of a delusion. Perhaps something of what was passing in Lethbridge's mind conveyed itself to Payn, for he stopped abruptly.

"You don't believe me?" he asked angrily.

"I have not said so," Lethbridge replied. "I do not wish to be discourteous, but when anybody discovers anything absolutely fresh and original people always doubt it until they can see for themselves. Suppose you rose in a meeting of scientific men and said that you had discovered perpetual motion, would you expect them to believe your statement until they had had an opportunity of deciding for themselves? I am not saying that you have not re-invented the Golden Rose, but I should not tell anybody else until I could speak from personal experience. And now the thing is perfect, what are you going to do with it?"

"Sell it, I suppose," Payn said reluctantly. "It is cruel to have to part with a treasure like that, but I shall have the consolation of knowing that I shall give pleasure to myriads. I shall go down to posterity as one of the greatest horticulturists that ever lived. And there is another thing—I shall provide for Mary's future. That has been on my mind for a long time. I feel that I owe the girl some reparation."

Lethbridge nodded his head approvingly, but put in his question with some hesitation.

"You have nothing else to leave her?" he asked.

"Nothing whatever. She came to me to be my friend and companion, to look after my house. She gave up her youth and friends and all her pleasures to be dependent upon the whims of an exacting old man. She took it for granted that I could give her all I had promised. And really I was little better than a pauper. But that is not the case now, John, not now. When the Rose comes into the hands of the public it will be worth twenty thousand pounds to me. I shall be able to charge just what I like for the plant. There will be no fear on the score that the public will refuse to buy. And every penny of that money shall be invested for Mary's benefit. I shall make no more experiments, I shall fritter away no more gold in pursuit of the impossible. Besides, I feel that my life's work is done. What more can there be for me to do?"

"Nothing," Lethbridge admitted. "I am glad for the girl's sake, and now, if you will excuse me, I think I had better go. There is nothing to gain by my staying here."

The old man held out a detaining hand.

"No, don't go yet," he whispered. "I am afraid to be left alone, lest that scoundrel should return and rob me of all the fruits of my labour. If he knows you are still here he will not make another attempt."

"But I can't stay much longer," Lethbridge protested. "Sooner or later I must go. If you will tell me where to find him I will call upon Inspector Wilkinson and ask him to come. No doubt when you tell him your story he will put a special constable on duty."

But this suggestion hardly seemed to satisfy the old man. He appeared to be casting about in his mind for some argument to detain Lethbridge. His manner suddenly changed and became friendly and confidential.

"You are annoyed with me?" he said in wheedling tones. "I see you are still smarting over the past. But perhaps I was wrong. John, indeed, I have already said so. Don't go away like this, don't let us part in bad blood again. Stay with me a little longer, if it is only half an hour. If you will stay I will show you the rose. I cannot say more than that."

There was something almost imploring in the old man's voice and Lethbridge softened. He murmured something that sounded like acquiescence, and then Payn crossed the greenhouse and disappeared behind the canvas screen. When he came back he was carrying in his arms with infinite tenderness a slender plant in a pot which he deposited upon a table. The plant was a rose with three long green trails, on each of which, half-way up, was a flower blazing in all its glory. Lethbridge drew a long, deep breath, as he came closer and examined the blooms. They were all fully open; the deep yellow cups gleamed like beaten gold in the ray of the lamps and the lace fringe on the edges was as dainty and delicate as the embroidery on the wing of a butterfly. There was no spot on any of the pure petals, the brilliant green foliage hung round the flowers lightly and caressingly. The whole place was filled with the fragrance at once exhilarating and intoxicating. Lethbridge had never smelt anything like it before. There was something in the perfume that uplifted him. Jasper Payn, with gleaming eyes, laid a hand gently on the foliage.

"There! What do you think of that?" he whispered hoarsely. "Did you ever see anything more perfect? There is no bloom like it in the whole world. It is hardy, too, it will climb and ramble about wherever it finds itself in congenial soil. Fancy a house covered with a mass of blooms like that! Can't you imagine every lover of flowers in the kingdom eager and ready to purchase a slip of the Golden Rose? Why, I could ask my own price for it."

"It is incomparable," Lethbridge murmured.

"Incomparable, yes, and all my own invention. Ah! you cannot imagine what this rose is to me. In a month's time there will be two or three hundred blooms on that plant; then I shall send it to one of the great shows and my fortune will be made. I shall command the respect of those who have hitherto laughed at me. People who pity me now will come here from envy."

Payn's excitement deepened as he spoke. He bent down and snapped off one of the glorious golden blossoms. He passed it over to Lethbridge, who put it in his coat. Almost before the latter could adjust it, the elder man snatched it from his hand and dropped it into the pipe of the furnace by which the green house was heated. The action was so unexpected that Lethbridge protested. He was wondering what it meant.

"Better not," Payn muttered. "You shall have a handful of blossoms later, but I don't want to put temptation in your way now. You might come back in the dead of the night and steal my treasure. You are a young man with ambitions, and nobody knows of my discovery except one."

"As you will," Lethbridge said coldly. "I am glad, at any rate, to think that you can trust somebody."

"I had to," the old man protested eagerly. "You see I couldn't get Wilkinson to believe that I was in any danger until I told him the truth. He thought I was mad. He thought I was full of delusions. But he has seen the plant. He recognises its value."

Lethbridge rose to his feet.

"In that case, I think I will go," he said. "You will recognise that it is not altogether pleasant for me to be here. I will call on your friend on my way home, and tell him that you are in need of his services. Is there anything else you would like me to do? For the sake of old times—"

"Oh, yes, yes," Payn said eagerly, "I know what you mean. But you will come and see me again, John, won't you? Come in the daylight. I always feel safe then."

A bitter smile crossed Lethbridge's face.

"Very well," he said. "I will look in when I have time. And now I will wish you good-night. Will you be good enough to say the same to Miss Grover for me?"