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Why, if I'd have known what the thing was worth, I might have put you in only it wanted capital and some experience." But that gentleman said soberly: "No, you wouldn't nuther." "Why not?" said Key half angrily. Collinson paused. After a moment he said, "'Cos I wouldn't hev took anything outer thet place." Key felt relieved. From what he knew of Collinson's vagaries he believed him.
It had been unknown at Collinson's, its nearest neighbor, and it was presumable that it was equally unknown at Skinner's.
It was three weeks since they had met, three weeks crammed with excitement, energy, achievement, and fortune to Key; and yet this place and this man were as stupidly unchanged as when he had left them. A momentary fancy that this was the reality, that he himself was only awakening from some delusive dream, came over him. But Collinson's next words were practical.
One of his friends rejoiced in a friend, a Member of Parliament a zealous, an intelligent, and, above all, a patriotic person, anxious to do the most good in the shortest possible time. But we cannot answer, alas! for the friends of our friends. If Collinson's friend had introduced him to the General, the latter would have taken his measure and saved much.
Perhaps it was something in Collinson's manner, or his own preoccupation, but he did not pursue the subject, and the conversation lagged. They were nearing, too, the outer edge of the present conflagration, and the smoke, lying low in the unburnt woods, or creeping like an actual exhalation of the soil, blinded them so that at times they lost the trail completely.
Collinson's Egyptian brigade was to guard the stores and materials left behind. The 21st Lancers scouted ahead of the British brigades, to discover if any foe were lurking behind Surgham Hill. When about half a mile south of the hill, they saw a small party of Dervish cavalry and some infantry, who were hiding in what looked like a shallow water course. The four squadrons rode forward at a gallop.
"All right; only hurry up!" said Uncle Dick cheerfully, settling himself back in his chair, "I reckon to turn in as soon as I've rastled with your hash, for I've got to turn out agin and be off at sun-up." They were all very quiet again, so quiet that they could not help noticing that the sound of Collinson's preparations for their supper had ceased too.
Perhaps his late host had lied, and knew of the existence of the hidden house. Perhaps he had spoken of some "silvery rock" the night before he even knew something of the lode itself. He turned upon him with an aggressive face. But Collinson's next words dissipated the thought. "I'm glad I found ye, anyhow," he said.
Closing together they avoided the latter, and holding each other well up, became one irresistible wedge-shaped mass. At times they yelled, not from consciousness nor bravado, but from the purely animal instinct of warning and to combat the breathlessness of their descent, until, reaching the level, they charged across the gravelly bed of a vanished river, and pulled up at Collinson's Mill.
At first, like all scoundrels, he had measured the man by himself; was suspicious and prepared for rivalry; but the grave truthfulness of Collinson's eyes left him helpless. He was terrified by this unknown factor. The right that contends and fights often stimulates its adversary; the right that yields leaves the victor vanquished.
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