Kindling (17 page)

M. Potiscu, small and rotund, and very Eastern, said, “May you go in peace, with the protection of Allah.”

Warren bowed. “I thank you infinitely. Without the work which you have done, M’sieur, and the assistance which you have given, our business could not have progressed so far.”

“You are most kind.”

Warren continued, “I wish you to know how deeply the group that I represent appreciate your assistance, M’sieur. It has occurred to me that perhaps there is some little thing that is not easily obtained in Visgrad, some present that I could bring back with me from London that would serve to indicate our gratitude?”

M. Potiscu thought for a few moments. “Always,” he said, “I have desired an umbrella, with the handle all in jewels. Jewels of all colours, blue and red and white and green, and blue again. Of a green silk, and with the stick all silver. Such umbrellas cannot be obtained in Visgrad, and I have desired one very greatly.”

Warren swallowed hard. “I am disappointed, M’sieur, that you have chosen so small a gift,” he said. “But
you may rest assured—the umbrella shall be of the best that London can produce.”

“If it is possible, then, to add one more thing,” said M. Potiscu, rather rapidly, “you would bring from London a dozen bottles of your Worcestershire sauce. In the summer, you understand, the meat is sometimes not good.”

Warren left for London the next day. Travelling via Berlin he landed at Croydon at about nine o’clock at night, and drove up to his flat.

He went down to his office early in the morning, and spent the forenoon clearing the arrears of his routine work. For the afternoon he made an appointment with a firm of naval architects, who came to see him.

He outlined to them the business of the oil tankers. They discussed the proposition for an hour. “Within limits,” he said, “we can sell them what we like. But we’ve got to have a preliminary specification and a lot of drawings out within a fortnight, and then one of you will have to come out with me to Visgrad.”

“There’s no difficulty in that.”

He eyed them for a moment. “In the event of this business going through, I take it that your firm would be prepared to make the whole of the detail drawings and take entire responsibility for the design? I have in mind to build these vessels in a yard that has been closed down for a time. I don’t want to have to set up a design department of my own.”

“You need have no fears on that score, Mr. Warren. We are very well accustomed to that class of work.”

He nodded. “I know you are. That’s why I asked you to come along.” He got up from his desk. “All
right, I’ll write to you to-night confirming all this. And you will get right on with the job.”

They left him, and he turned back to the consideration of a letter on his desk. It read:

St. Mary’s Hospital,               
Sharples,                      
Northumberland
.    

Dear Mr. Warren
,

You asked me if I could let you know if I thought of anybody who could manage the Yard. I’ve been reluctant to make a suggestion, because of course it’s not easy for a woman to really appreciate how good a man is at his work
.

But I think you might investigate Mr. Grierson, who is now an assistant manager with the Clydeside Ship and Foundry Company. I have not seen him for about four years. He was an apprentice in our yard, and after that he became an assistant manager. I remember Daddy telling me how well they all thought of him, and that he’d end up as a director. He must be about thirty-eight years old now. He got married seven or eight years ago, not very long before we closed down. I remember him chiefly because he was so tremendously energetic. Nobody could keep up with him. He was very popular when he was here
.

I am coming down to London for a few days on the 17th, and shall be staying with my aunt at 17, Chichester Avenue, Ealing. I could see you then and tell you more about him, if you are interested
.

Yours sincerely,                   
Alice MacMahon
.    

He reached out for the telephone, and put in a call to the hospital in Sharples. It came in a few minutes; he asked for the Almoner.

He heard her voice. “Miss MacMahon speaking.”

“This is Henry Warren, Miss MacMahon.”

“Oh—where are you speaking from? Are you in Sharples?”

“No—I’m speaking from London. I got your letter; I’m sorry I haven’t answered it before. I’ve been abroad.”

“On business?”

“Yes. I’ve been in Laevatia. Miss MacMahon, about your man Grierson. I’d like to meet him, to have a talk with him. He lives up on the Clyde somewhere, I suppose?”

“I think so.”

“Do you know his address—where I could get hold of him?”

“I can’t tell you off-hand. I could find out and let you have it in to-night’s post.”

“That would do fine. Send it to the office—you know my office address? Lisle Court.”

“That’s the one I’ve got, isn’t it? Where you used to work, and they forward letters for you still?”

“That’s right.”

“They didn’t forward mine. All right, Mr. Warren—I’ll let you have that in to-night’s post. Does this mean that things are getting warm?”

He laughed. “They’re getting so damned hot I’m pretty sure to burn my fingers. You said in your letter you’ll be down in London next week. Will you come and lunch with me?”

“I’d love to, Mr. Warren.”

“What about Tuesday?”

“That would do all right.”

“Good. Tuesday, at one o’clock—at the Savoy? I’ll meet you at the entrance to the grill room.”

“I’ll be there.”

She laid down the receiver; Mr. Williams looked at her inquiringly. “Was yon Mr. Henry Warren?”

She nodded. “Our own out-of-work clerk. I’m going to have lunch with him at the Savoy.”

He said, “Mm. And when you’ve filled him with intoxicating liquor, ye can wheedle out of him the way we can save another half of one per cent upon the overdraft.” He mused a little. “I should have kenned he was a banker, all the time. Nobody else would know them tricks.”

In the morning Warren went down to talk to Mr. Heinroth. He proposed to him the flotation of an issue of preference shares in the Laevatian Oil Development, a company in which the whole of the ordinary shares would be held by the Laevatian Government.

Mr. Heinroth gave him a cigar, and heard him attentively to the end. “You’d never put it over with a name like that,” he said. “Wants to be something short and snappy—something that the country clergymen can remember. I should call it Laevol Limited, or something like that.”

Warren eyed him for a moment. “I don’t look at it like that,” he said. “I don’t put it forward in the trustee class, but it’s better than that. I’ve been out there for the last fortnight, and in my opinion it’s sound. In any case, I’m making myself responsible for twenty-five
per cent of the underwriting.”

There was a silence. Mr. Heinroth looked at him attentively. “You are?”

Warren nodded.

There was another silence. “It might be possible to get the market round to it,” said Mr. Heinroth at last. “The first reaction is bound to be unfavourable, of course. When we had that loan fiasco the year before last I thought that everything Laevatian was dead for the next ten years. They’re bound to bring that up, you know.”

Warren nodded. “At the same time, it’s potentially a rich country.” Mr. Heinroth nodded slowly. “Provided that the proposition’s good business. I don’t see why that loan should interfere with it.”

“There would have to be collateral security for the dividend, of course—and absolutely unimpeachable.”

“Naturally. I’ve got the profit on the State Railway for that. For the last ten years it’s been well in excess of the sum required to guarantee this dividend.”

“That sounds all right. But—I don’t know …”

They discussed it together for another hour. At last Warren got up to take his leave. “Think it over.” he said, “and give me a ring in a couple of days. I’d like to have your support in this, because I think it may be the means of opening up development in general down there.”

Mr. Heinroth nodded wisely. “That’s probably due. Well, I’ll go round my corner of the market and see what the reaction is, and you go round yours. And then we’ll have another talk.”

Mr. Heinroth slept on it, and then put it to Mr. Todd
and Mr. Castroni over the luncheon table. “If it was anybody else but Warren,” he said frankly, “I’d have nothing to do with it. After that loan was repudiated, I swore I would never touch Laevatia again. But with Warren behind it—well, it makes a difference.”

Mr. Castroni sipped his coffee. “In the last ten years I’ve been in most of Warren’s things,” he said. “When I’ve used my judgment and stayed out, I’ve been sorry.”

“I know,” said Mr. Heinroth. “I feel rather like that too.”

“The country’s just about due to be opened up,” said Mr. Todd. “You’ve got to remember he did a good job with the waterworks out there. He knows what he’s up to, all right. Speaking for myself, I’d go with him.”

“Maslin said much the same,” said Mr. Heinroth. “But I thought I’d like to know what you two thought about it.”

That evening Warren dined alone at his club. In the smoking-room after dinner he saw Lord Cheriton sitting by himself; he strolled over and dropped into a chair beside him.

“Evening,” said the young man. “I haven’t seen you here for some time. Been away?”

Warren nodded. He selected a cigar carefully and poured out his coffee. “I got laid up soon after you had dinner at my place that night,” he said. “Had to have an operation. Since then I’ve been abroad.”

“Are things getting any better, do you think?”

Warren shrugged his shoulders. “The reactions from this gold business have done a bit of good,” he said. “You can’t say how long it’s going to last. I don’t see
any sign of a general improvement yet.”

“Pity.”

Warren glanced at him. “Why?”

“I want a job.”

“You’re not the only one.” They smoked in silence for a little. Then Warren said:

“Chucking up the Army?”

The young man nodded.

“What are you doing that for?”

“I want to do a spot of work before I get too old. I don’t mean selling motor-cars, or flying aeroplanes. A real job, that one could get one’s teeth into. There’s nothing like that for me in the Army.”

“No, I suppose not.”

After a time Warren spoke again. “I was in Northumberland a little time ago—in Sharples. They told me at the local hospital about your mother—what a lot she does for them.”

The young man nodded. “That’s not far from my home, of course—we own a lot of land around there. That place Sharples is in a terrible mess.”

Warren nodded.

The young man turned a little in his chair. “Mind you, it hasn’t been like that always. I remember it when I was a boy—in the War—when it was the devil of a place. Full of work, and the river full of ships. They built a lot of destroyers there, for the Admiralty. Foreign Governments, too. There were seven Barlow destroyers at the Battle of Jutland.”

“So I heard,” said Warren.

Cheriton glanced at him curiously. “What took you to Sharples?”

Warren did not answer for a minute. Then he said “I was looking at the shipyard.”

“Were you, by Jove. Are you going to do anything with it?”

“I don’t know. If anyone wants a packet of grief, he can start building ships in a yard that’s been empty for five years.”

The other thought about it for a minute. “I suppose you’re right. At the same time, that’s the sort of job I’d like to be in on.”

“You would?”

“Well, of course—that was always our family business, you know.” Warren nodded slowly, remembering. “Not Sharples, of course—Sunderland. My father sold out from the Sunderland yard in 1907 and after that he never touched shipbuilding again. But that was where my grandfather made his money.”

They smoked in silence for a little time. “I don’t know if anything will come of this thing in Sharples or not,” said Warren. “In any case, don’t talk about it. But if it should get along I’ll remember what you’ve said. That is, if you’re really going to chuck the Army.”

“I sent in my papers last month.” The young man turned to him. “I’d like nothing better than to get dug in to that, if I’d be any good to you.”

Warren eyed him for a moment. “I’ll let you know within a month if there’s anything developing up there or not,” he said.

A week later he was waiting in the lounge of the Savoy grill room for Miss MacMahon. She came to him punctually, dressed quietly in grey. He guided her to
a table. “Did you come up from Ealing?” he inquired.

She nodded. “By the District Railway. I’ve been shopping all the morning.”

He ordered lunch. “You said you’d been in Laevatia,” she reminded him. “Was that on business?”

He nodded. “I was in Visgrad for a fortnight.”

“I’ve never been in the Balkans. Are the people nice out there?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “A man like me, going on business, never meets the real people. If I had to judge the Visgrad people by the ones I’ve met I’d say they were a lot of sewer rats, but that may not be fair.”

“Did you go out on shipping business?”

“Not primarily. That may arise out of it.”

She eyed him steadily. “Do you think there’s any chance for us up there?”

“I honestly don’t know. But I promise you this—I’m doing my best.”

Her eyes softened. “I knew you’d be doing that.”

Lunch came to them. “I saw your man Grierson on Monday,” he said presently.

She laid her fork down. “Where did you see him?”

“In Glasgow.”

“Did you go up there specially for that?”

“Yes.”

“What did you think of him?”

“I liked him very well. He’ll come to us when we want him.”

“You mean—to Barlows?”

He nodded.

“But isn’t he in a good job now?”

“He’ll be in a better one if we start up again.”

“He wouldn’t be so secure.”

“I’m not so sure of that.” He smiled, thinking of the finances of the Clydeside Ship and Foundry Company. “But anyway, he’ll take the risk of that—upon the terms I offered him. I believe he really wants to get back to Sharples.”