Charles Williams [Aspects of Shadows of Ecstasy (v5.0) (epub

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.Philip’s own job was engineering, and he had not long before come to an arrangement with a business company known as “The North African Rivers Development Syndicate,” by which he was to go out to whatever North African Rivers were to be developed as assistant constructing engineer.His chief, a man named Munro, was already out there, somewhere in Nigeria, and in a couple of months Philip was to join him.Meanwhile he was putting in some time at the London offices of the Syndicate, which was run by two brothers named Stuyvesant.But though these were the official heads it was generally understood in the City that the real force behind the company was a much richer man, a certain Simon Rosenberg, who, among his interests in railways and periodicals and fisheries and dyeworks, in South African diamonds and Persian oils and Chinese silks, in textiles and cereals and patent-medicines, rubber and coffee and wool, among all these had cast a careless eye on African rivers.In that side of the business Philip wasn’t very interested.Sir Bernard had satisfied himself that the company was as sound as could reasonably be expected, and a year’s work—or perhaps even two years—would give Philip a start in his profession.Then he would, all being well, come home and marry Rosamond, and see what jobs were going at home.Munro was a fairly big man and if Munro gave him a good word.…It was consequently something of a shock to him, when he opened the paper, to find two huge headlines competing.On the left a three-column space announced “Multi-millionaire Found Dead; Rosenberg Shot”; “Terrible Discovery in Rich Man’s Library.” On the right a similar space was filled with: “Africans Still Advancing”; “Hordes in Nile Valley”; “Rumours of Trouble in South Africa”; “French Defeat in Tangier.” Philip goggled at the thick type, and instinctively tried to read both accounts at once.He was still immersed when Caithness came in, just preceding Sir Bernard.“I say,” Philip cried to them, “Rosenberg’s shot himself.”“Rosenberg!” Sir Bernard exclaimed.“Whatever for?”“It doesn’t say,” Philip answered.“He was found in the study of his house late last night by the butler, who thought he heard a noise and went to see.”“And found he had,” Sir Bernard said.“Nasty for the butler.” He picked up his own paper, and opened it so that he and Caithness could look at it together.But the priest’s eyes went first to the columns of African news, and after his first glance Sir Bernard’s followed them.They read the brief obscure telegrams, the explanatory comments, the geographical addenda.It seemed that something very unusual was happening in Africa.To begin with, all communication with the interior had completely ceased.Telegraphs had ceased to function, railways had been cut, roads had been blocked.By such roads as had not been blocked there were emerging against all the outer districts hostile bodies of natives, some so small as to be less than a raid, some so large as to mean an invasion, and at that, wherever they appeared, a victorious invasion.The Egyptian army, which had for some weeks been moving leisurely south in order to suppress trouble in the southeast, was now retiring in considerable disorder and even more considerable haste.The French had “suffered a set-back”; the Spaniards had fallen back towards the coast.Communications with Kenya, with Nigeria, with Abyssinia, with Zanzibar, had ceased.Raids had taken place on the English territories in the South.Air-investigation was being undertaken.The Powers were in touch and were taking necessary steps.“But what,” Caithness said, “has happened to the air-investigation of the last month?”“It hasn’t come back,” Sir Bernard answered.“I was talking to a man in the War Office the other night, and he told me that they’ve sent out aeroplanes by the score, and hardly any have returned.Some have, I suppose, but what they reported is being kept dark.Philip, I think the African Rivers look like being in too much spate for your engineering.”“But what about Rosenberg?” Philip asked.“Do you suppose that’s what made him kill himself?”“Did he kill himself?” Sir Bernard said, turning to the other columns.“‘Butler hears shot … letter for the Coroner … police satisfied.Financial comment on page 10’; yes, well, we can wait till after breakfast for that.Curious, I wonder what decided him.Let’s just see whether the Archbishop said anything.”It appeared that the previous day had been agitated in both Houses.In the Commons the Prime Minister had announced that forces were being dispatched immediately to punish the various tribes guilty of the abominable massacres at the mission stations.Asked by half a dozen members of the Opposition at once whether he could promise that these expeditions should not develop into costly Imperialistic wars, and whether the action taken was by request of the ecclesiastical authorities, the Prime Minister said that the Archbishop had naturally deprecated further bloodshed but that he and other ecclesiastical authorities had recognized the right of the State to protect its citizens.Asked whether he would undertake that no further territory would be seized, he said that no annexations would be made except by mandate from the League of Nations.Asked whether other Governments were taking action, he said that the House should have all information as soon as he received it.This had been in the afternoon.In the evening the Archbishop had asked the Lord Chancellor for permission to make a statement, and had then said that—in consultation with such other Bishops as happened to be in London—he had written at once that morning to the Prime Minister, definitely stating that the ecclesiastical authorities were entirely opposed to the dispatch of punitive expeditions, and begging that none should be sent [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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