I shivered at his words, knowing how right he was. Richard had coffee and I joined him across another silence. Eventually he said, “I will give you an answer, but for your ears only.”
I felt myself blush again. “Richard, you know I can’t accept that.”
“Then let’s put it another way. You must never divulge anything of what I say unless it compromises your own sense of loyalty to your country.”
“And then?”
“Then you are free to do or say whatever you wish.”
I was still uneasy. He smiled and said, “That leaves an awful lot to your own discretion, Charlie. I can’t be much fairer or more trusting than that. And if you think about it, this says a good deal about my faith in your honor.”
I was moved by his words, but I knew what he was really saying. My honor could be clear, for any reason of my own choosing, but I knew our friendship would be lost.
Burton sipped his coffee and said, “I’m not spying on you, my friend. It’s just that there are personalities involved. Issues unresolved in England. Things I still haven’t decided how to deal with— personal things that influenced my decision to come here. I don’t want my business scattered about for everyone to know. Isn’t that reasonable?”
“Of course it is,” I said, but I knew my tone was unconvincing.
He made a small gesture of impatience and lit a smoke. “Damn it, you brought this up and now it must be dealt with. The alternative is fairly unattractive for both of us. We must part company in distrust.”
“I cannot accept that. I won’t.”
“Then what do you say?”
I nodded warily.
For a time I thought he still would not tell me. Even when he did speak his talk was rambling and not obviously to the point.
“You may have heard that I came home from Africa as something of an outcast. If that sad news hasn’t yet reached America, it will. And it will only get worse as Speke publishes his opinions. In my own forthcoming book I mention our differences only briefly. But Speke and I are at impossible odds: he has made his claim to the discovery of the big lake, insisting that this alone must be the source of the great Nile River. Never mind that he has no scientific evidence: he saw nothing more than a vast body of water, not even a visual sighting of a river flowing outward, to the north or any other direction. So it all remains unproved, unprovable, really, without another expedition. None of that mattered in the jubilation of the moment. People wanted a hero, and Speke rushed to get home first and give them one. At my expense, if that’s how it had to be.”
He sniffed derisively but there was no missing the hurt in his face. “We had an agreement: discussion first, before any publication or speech making. We would decide together what we had found and what it meant. But I was burning up with fever and Speke hurried home alone. His book, if he writes one, which I can’t imagine—my God, the man is almost illiterate—but you watch, publishers will wheedle it out of him, and such a book will be calculated for one effect above all others: the glorification of Jack Speke. The public already believes it, hook and sinker, so what more does a publisher need? Damn the truth.”
His eyes took on a faraway look. “The Nile,” he said, almost wistfully. “Do you know how many centuries people have been wondering where it comes from? But no one could penetrate that wilderness until Speke and I did it.”
He sipped his coffee. “I have many enemies in London, Charlie. One has to choose what to believe, and a great number chose to believe Speke’s accounts. And his slanders.”
“I believe you,” I said. “I don’t think it’s in you to write an untrue word.”
He smiled gratefully. “I’ll tell you one of the truest and ugliest things about human nature. If a man betrays a friend, even a little, he must then turn completely on that friend and destroy him. That’s what Speke must now do to me. I alone know what happened. I’m the greatest threat in his life so there’s no other way to validate himself. And maybe get rid of a little self-loathing.”
He looked down at his cup. “I swore I would never trust another man after Speke, but here I am, trusting you.”
Yet another long silence passed, as if he of all people could not find the words he sought. “Listen, Charlie. This must not sound like any form of self-pity.”
At once I said, “I would
He cocked his head slightly. “There is a woman I have decided to marry.”
I gave him a heartfelt congratulation and predicted that he would greatly enjoy his wedded life. But he looked doubtful and said, “Her family is furiously opposed. Her mother is impossible.”
My look told him how sorry I was.
