'And probably overtaxed his strength in the doing of it,' said her father. 'No, I am quite resolved to go to Italy, and shall in all probability set forth towards the end of the coming week. I had hoped to see Robert Lumley in Cheltenham, but that must go by the board, and I will see him on my return.'
He consulted with Barbara as to whether Henry should be informed or not of the proposed journey, and finally decided, rather against her advice, that nothing should be said, and he would arrive in Naples as a complete surprise to his son. It so happened that business matters once more obliged him to delay the date of departure, and it was not until May that Copper John finally set out for the Continent. He avoided the long sea route, and travelled by easy stages through France and Italy, spending most of his journey in writing out, from memory, the profits and expenses of the mine on Hungry Hill, from its beginning in 1820 until the present month of the current year. He ignored the scenery entirely, found the heat excessive, the flies troublesome, the people robbers, and wondered why anyone should waste time and money in travelling for pleasure.
When he alighted from the coach at Naples in the third week in May, hot, dusty, and irritable, the first person to meet his gaze was Simon Flower, seated in a cafe on the square, smoking an immense cigar, and being entertained by an Italian lady of doubtful respectability. Simon Flower seemed quite unperturbed by the sudden appearance of a neighbour from home amongst the cosmopolitan crowd of Naples, and, holding his hat above his head, waved John Brodrick to a seat.
'My 'dear fellow, what a delightful encounter,' he said. 'This little lady speaks no English, so it does not matter what you say before her. I am very glad to see you. What in the world are you doing here?'
Copper John, who found Simon Flower a poor companion at the best of times, and even more so at the end of a long journey, replied shortly that he had not time to sit down, that he was on his way at once to Henry's hotel, and perhaps Simon Flower could direct him.
'Henry?' said the other, his mouth falling open.
'But Henry has been gone from Naples for a fortnight.'
Copper John stared at him a moment without speaking. Then he sat down at the table, his composure shaken, his plans all fallen to pieces at the news he had just received. He accepted the drink offered him without a word, nor did he protest when Simon Flower pressed a further one upon him.
'You had better tell me,' he said at length, 'what has happened.'
'Nothing has happened,' said Simon Flower, 'except that you have had a long journey for nothing.
No doubt you passed Henry on the road. He was not very well, poor fellow, and decided to go home before this heat grew too much for him. The best thing you can do is to take the next coach and follow him back along the route you came. But stay a night or two in Naples first. I can promise you an amusing forty-eight hours. If this little lady will bring a friend-I know one or two places that…'
'Was Henry in a very bad state of health?' interrupted Copper John. 'Please understand that I, and my whole family, are extremely anxious about him.'
'Well, now, I hardly think so. Have another drink, will you not? It's the only thing to do in this climate, I assure you. My daughter would really know more about Henry's health than I do. She trotted him round, you know, and had him esquire her about the town. You had better ask my daughter.'
'Would I be likely to find Mrs. Flower and Miss Flower at your hotel?'
'You would, I have no doubt. They are generally resting at this time of the day. That is why I take the opportunity of coming here. This little lady has not the pleasure of my wife's acquaintance.'
'I hardly supposed she had,' said Copper John, and rising to his feet, he bade his neighbour good-afternoon, ignoring his companion, and leaving the pair in a state of benign and delightful intoxication.
He threaded his way through the busy streets, a tall, purposeful figure, the strong shoulders and the square jaw causing many of the idling people he jostled to turn and stare at him, until finally he came to the hotel he sought, and sent his card up to the apartment of Mrs. Flower.
She received him with a wealth of apology and fuss-the rooms were most insignificant, there had been the usual misunderstanding with the manager, and really she felt quite ashamed, Simon was so forgetful in money matters, and her dress was not suitable for callers, Mr. Brodrick must excuse her. Yes, indeed, Henry had been gone quite two weeks; they had seen such a lot of him, Fanny-Rosa had been so glad of his company, and then really, she hardly knew how it was, but the poor boy must have done rather too much, he seemed sadly pulled down, and one morning he told them he was going home, Fanny-Rosa had been most upset, and said he was jealous of an Italian count-you know the nonsense girls talk-no truth in it at all of course, just some little folly between them, but anyway, yes, Henry did seem to be coughing, and he had left Naples on such a very hot day, dust everywhere, she did so hope it would be better and cooler in France, Mr.
Brodrick would no doubt catch up with him, she understood Henry was not going to rush the journey. '
The door opened, and Fanny-Rosa came into the room. She had a lace shawl thrown over her chestnut hair, in the fashion of the country, and even Copper John, who had little time for admiration, was struck by the vivid colouring, the slanting green eyes, and the real beauty of Simon Flower's daughter. She looked startled when she saw her mother's visitor, and went white.
'What is the matter? Has anything happened?' she asked.
'I've come on a fruitless errand,' replied Copper John. 'I came to see Henry, and I am told he has left, and is on his way home.
We had a letter from some friends of ours, the Mallets, who met Henry here and gave a very poor account of his health, so I threw up my plan for returning to Clonmere and came here instead. I might have saved myself the trouble.'
Fanny-Rosa seemed relieved. She sat down beside her mother, and played with the fringe of her dress.
'I think possibly the carnival festivities were a little too much for Henry,' she said. 'He looked rather unwell afterwards. He was in bed two or three days.'
'Such a charming young man, Mr. Brodrick,' said Mrs. Flower; 'we were all quite delighted with him. It must have been the last evening of the carnival that exhausted him; he and Fanny-Rosa went to see some procession or other-did you not, my dear? — and returned very late. I know I had gone to bed, and was asleep when you came in. Heaven knows what happened to your father, he never came back for the night, but it was the next day that Henry kept to his room, was it not, Fanny-Rosa?'
'I'm afraid I've forgotten,' said her daughter.
She made a little curtsey to Copper John, asked to be remembered to Henry when he met with him, hesitated a moment, and then left the room. Soon after John Brodrick also made his excuses, and departed. He found he had time to dine, rest for a few hours, and then catch the coach for the homeward route.
The Flowers had not been very helpful, he considered.
Their whole attitude to the business was typical of them-they were as careless and as improvident here in Italy as they were at home at Castle Andriff.
It was disgraceful to see a man of middle-age like himself, with a grown family, sitting in a Neapolitan cafe and drinking with some woman of the town, in the middle of the afternoon, as he had seen Simon Flower, and to reflect that the money he did it on, which the luckless proprietor of the hotel had apparently not yet seen, was no doubt a gift from Simon Flower's father-in-law, Robert Lumley, as a result of last summer's profit from the mine on Hungry Hill. He, John Brodrick, the Director, worked ten hours a day to obtain the greatest efficiency from the mine, so that it was probably the best-conducted mine in the kingdom, and an idle good-for-nothing toper like Simon Flower sat on his backside in the sun and reaped the benefit.
He left Naples weary and low in spirits, and the tedious homeward journey, with no certainty of coming up with his son, loomed as a nightmare before him.
Stage after stage was passed, and town after town, and all along the route he made enquiries after a young man of fair complexion and slight build, who would seem fatigued and possibly unwell. Once or twice he met with success. Yes, the people of the hotel in question had seen a young man answering to the description. He had stayed a night under their roof a week or ten days ago. The young gentleman seemed much tired, and coughed a great deal. He had given a letter to be posted. No, they did not recollect to whom. Not to England. To an address in Naples, they thought. No doubt the present gentleman would soon catch up with his son…
And at the next town there would be a blank stare to his question, a shrug of the shoulders, an expression of regret. The young gentleman described had not been seen. '
It was strange, thought Copper John, that the Flowers had made no mention of hearing from Henry.
He would hardly have written to anyone else in Naples. Possibly the letter, or letters, had miscarried, And on
