worry her to no purpose.
“What happened?” she pressed him the moment he had finished telling her the barest outline. They were sitting in the parlor with a hot cup of tea. Both children were upstairs, having had their meal. Jemima was doing homework. There were only four more years to go before the examinations which would decide her educational future. Daniel, two years younger, was still excused such rigorous study. At five and a half he could read quite tolerably, and was learning multiplication tables by heart, and a great deal more spelling than he desired. But at this time in the early evening he was permitted simply to play. Jemima was endeavoring to master a list of all the Kings of England from Edward the Confessor in 1066 to the present Queen in 1890, which was a formidable task. But when it was time for her examinations she would be required to know not only their names and order of succession, but their dates and the outstanding events of their reigns as well.
“What happened?” Charlotte repeated, watching him closely.
“A coach had apparently run out of control, and brushed me when it came ’round the corner at close to a gallop. I was knocked over, but not hurt more than a few bruises.” He smiled. “It is really nothing serious. I wouldn’t have told you at all, except I don’t want you to fear I am crippled with old age just yet!”
There was no answering smile in her face.
“Thomas, you look dreadful. You should see a doctor, just to make sure….”
“It is not necessary.”
She made as if to stand up. “I think it is!”
“No, it isn’t!” He heard the edge to his voice, and was unable to curb it. He sounded sharp, frightened.
She stopped, looking at him with a pucker between her brows.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I have already seen a doctor.” He told her the same stretching of the truth he had told Chancellor. “There is nothing at all except a few bruises, and a sense of shock and anger.”
“It is not all. Why did you go to a doctor?” she asked, looking at him narrowly.
It was too complicated to lie, and he was too tired. It was only to protect her that he had evaded it. He wanted to tell her.
“Matthew was with me,” he replied. “He was more seriously hurt. The doctor came for him. But he will be all right,” he added quickly. “It was simply that he was insensible for a few moments.”
She looked at him closely, her eyes clouded with worry.
“Was it an accident, Thomas? You don’t think the Inner Circle came after Matthew as well, do you?”
“I don’t know. I doubt it, because dearly as I would like to think he is a danger to them, I don’t.”
She looked at him doubtfully, but said no more on the matter. Instead she went to run him a hot bath and find some ointment of arnica.
“Good morning, Superintendent.” Ransley Soames made it a question, although the wording was not such. He was a good-looking man with regular features and thick, wavy, fair hair brushed back off his brow. His nose was rather high at the bridge and his mouth had a hint of softness in it. Without self-discipline he might have been indulgent. As it was he had a considerable presence and he looked at Pitt steadily and with gracious interest. “What may I do for you?”
“Good morning, Mr. Soames,” Pitt answered, closing the office door behind him and accepting the seat offered. Soames was sitting behind a high and very finely carved desk, a red box to one side, closed and with its ribbons tied. “I apologize for troubling you, sir, but I am enquiring, at the request of the Foreign Office, into certain information which has been very seriously misdirected. It is necessary that we know the source of the information, and all who may have been privy to it, in order to rectify the error.”
Soames frowned at him. “Your language is very diplomatic, Superintendent, one might even say obscure. What sort of information are you referring to, and where has it gone that it should not?”
“Financial information regarding Africa, and I should prefer at this point not to say where it has gone. Mr. Linus Chancellor has asked that I be as discreet as possible. I expect you understand the necessity for that.”
“Of course.” But Soames did not look as if he thought well of being included in the proscription. “You will also understand, Superintendent, if I require some confirmation of what you say … simply as a formality?”
Pitt smiled. “Naturally.” He produced a letter of authority Matthew had given him, with the Foreign Secretary’s countersignature.
Soames glanced at it, recognized Lord Salisbury’s hand, and sat up a little straighter. Pitt noticed a certain tension in him. Perhaps he was becoming aware of the gravity of the matter.
“Yes, Superintendent. Precisely what is it you wish to learn from me? An enormous amount of financial information passes across my desk, as you may appreciate. More than a little of it is to do with African matters.”
“That which concerns me is to do with the funding of Mr. Cecil Rhodes’s expedition into Matabeleland, which is presently taking place, among other things.”
“Indeed? Are you not aware, Superintendent, that the greatest part of that has been funded by Mr. Rhodes himself, and his South Africa Company?”
“Yes sir, I am. But it was not always so. It would help me greatly if you could give me something of the history of the finances of the expedition.”
Soames’s eyes widened.
“Good gracious! Going back how far?”
The window was open, and amidst the faint rumble of traffic came the sound of a hurdy-gurdy, then it was gone again.
“Let us say, the last ten years,” Pitt replied.
“What do you wish to know? I cannot possibly recount to you the entire matter. I shall be here all day.” Soames looked both surprised and irritated, as if he found the request unreasonable.
“I only need to know who dealt with the information.”
Soames sighed. “You are still asking the impossible. Mr. Rhodes first tried to secure Bechuanaland from the Cape. Back in August of ’eighty-three he addressed the Cape Parliament on that issue.” He sat back farther in his chair, folding his hands across his waistcoat. “It was the gateway to the enormous fertile northern plains of Matabeleland and Mashonaland. But he found Scanlen, the prime minister, to be quite uninterested. The Cape Parliament was in debt to an immense degree with a railway obligation of some fourteen million pounds, and having just suffered a war with Basutoland which had been a crippling additional expense. It was at that time that Rhodes first turned to London for finances … unwillingly, I may say. Of course that was during Mr. Gladstone’s Liberal government. Lord Derby was Foreign Secretary then. But he was no more interested than had been Scanlen of the Cape.” Soames regarded Pitt narrowly. “Are you familiar with all this, Superintendent?”
“No sir. Is it necessary that I should be?”
“If you are to understand the history of the financing of this expedition.” Soames smiled belatedly, and continued. “After our fearful losses at Majuba, Lord Derby wanted nothing to do with it. However, the following year there was a complete turn in events, largely brought about by fear of the Transvaal pushing northwards and eclipsing our efforts, our very necessary efforts for the safety of the Empire, the sea lanes ’round the Cape, and so on. We could not afford to allow the Cape ports to fall solely into the hands of the Afrikaners. Are you following me?”
“Yes.”
“Kruger and the other Transvaal delegates sailed to London the following year, ’eighty-four, to renegotiate the Pretoria Convention. Part of this agreement-I won’t bore you with the details-included Kruger letting go of Bechuanaland. Boer freebooters were moving northward.” He was watching Pitt closely to see if he understood. “Kruger double-crossed Rhodes and annexed Goshen to the Transvaal, and Germany entered the scene. It became increasingly complicated. Do you begin to see how much information there is, and how difficult to ascertain who knew what?”
“I do,” Pitt conceded. “But surely there are usual channels through which information passes which concerns Zambezia and Equatoria?”
“Certainly. What about the Cape, Bechuanaland, the Congo and Zanzibar?”
The sounds from the open window seemed far away, like another world.
“Exclude them for the time being,” Pitt directed.
“Very well. That makes it easier.” Soames did not look any less concerned or irritated. His brow was furrowed
