the yellow god-第1章

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The　Yellow　God

or　An　Idol　of　Africa


by　H。　Rider　Haggard






CHAPTER　I

SAHARA　LIMITED

Sir　Robert　Aylward；　Bart。；　M。P。；　sat　in　his　office　in　the　City　of
London。　It　was　a　very　magnificent　office；　quite　one　of　the　finest　that
could　be　found　within　half　a　mile　of　the　Mansion　House。　Its　exterior
was　built　of　Aberdeen　granite；　a　material　calculated　to　impress　the
prospective　investor　with　a　comfortable　sense　of　security。　Other
stucco；　or　even　brick…built；　offices　might　crumble　and　fall　in　an
actual　or　a　financial　sense；　but　this　rock…like　edifice　of　granite；
surmounted　by　a　life…sized　statue　of　Justice　with　her　scales；　admired
from　either　corner　by　pleasing　effigies　of　Commerce　and　of　Industry；
would　surely　endure　any　shock。　Earthquake　could　scarcely　shake　its
strong　foundations；　panic　and　disaster　would　as　soon　affect　the　Bank
of　England。　That　at　least　was　the　impression　which　it　had　been
designed　to　convey；　and　not　without　success。

〃There　is　so　much　in　externals；〃　Mr。　Champers…Haswell；　Sir　Robert's
partner；　would　say　in　his　cheerful　voice。　〃We　are　all　of　us　influenced
by　them；　however　unconsciously。　Impress　the　public；　my　dear　Aylward。
Let　solemnity　without　suggest　opulence　within；　and　the　bread；　or
rather　the　granite；　which　you　throw　upon　the　waters　will　come　back　to
you　after　many　days。〃

Mr。　Aylward；　for　this　conversation　occurred　before　his　merits　or　the
depth　of　his　purse　had　been　rewarded　by　a　baronetcy；　looked　at　his
partner　in　the　impassive　fashion　for　which　he　was　famous；　and
answered：

〃You　mix　your　metaphors；　Haswell；　but　if　you　mean　that　the　public　are
fools　who　must　be　caught　by　advertisement；　I　agree　with　you。　Only　this
particular　advertisement　is　expensive　and　I　do　not　want　to　wait　many
days　for　my　reward。　However；　￡20；000　one　way　or　the　other　is　a　small
matter；　so　tell　that　architect　to　do　the　thing　in　granite。〃

Sir　Robert　Aylward　sat　in　his　own　quiet　room　at　the　back　of　this
enduring　building；　a　very　splendid　room　that　any　Secretary　of　State
might　have　envied；　but　arranged　in　excellent　taste。　Its　walls　were
panelled　with　figured　teak；　a　rich　carpet　made　the　footfall　noiseless；
an　antique　Venus　stood　upon　a　marble　pedestal　in　the　corner；　and　over
the　mantelpiece　hung　a　fine　portrait　by　Gainsborough；　that　of　a
certain　Miss　Aylward；　a　famous　beauty　in　her　day；　with　whom；　be　it
added；　its　present　owner　could　boast　no　connection　whatsoever。

Sir　Robert　was　seated　at　his　ebony　desk　playing　with　a　pencil；　and　the
light　from　a　cheerful　fire　fell　upon　his　face。

In　its　own　way　it　was　a　remarkable　face；　as　he　appeared　then　in　his
fourth　and　fortieth　year；　very　pale　but　with　a　natural　pallor；　very
well　cut　and　on　the　whole　impressive。　His　eyes　were　dark；　matching　his
black　hair　and　pointed　beard；　and　his　nose　was　straight　and　rather
prominent。　Perhaps　the　mouth　was　his　weakest　feature；　for　there　was　a
certain　shiftiness　about　it；　also　the　lips　were　thick　and　slightly
sensuous。　Sir　Robert　knew　this；　and　therefore　he　grew　a　moustache　to
veil　them　somewhat。　To　a　careful　observer　the　general　impression　given
by　this　face　was　such　as　is　left　by　the　sudden　sight　of　a　waxen　mask。
〃How　strong！　How　lifelike！〃　he　would　have　said；　〃but　of　course　it
isn't　real。　There　may　be　a　man　behind；　or　there　may　be　wood；　but
that's　only　a　mask。〃　Many　people　of　perception　had　felt　like　this
about　Sir　Robert　Aylward；　namely；　that　under　the　mask　of　his　pale
countenance　dwelt　a　different　being　whom　they　did　not　know　or
appreciate。

If　these　had　seen　him　at　this　moment　of　the　opening　of　our　story；　they
might　have　held　that　Wisdom　was　justified　of　her　children。　For　now　in
the　solitude　of　his　splendid　office；　of　a　sudden　Sir　Robert's　mask
seemed　to　fall　from　him。　His　face　broke　up　like　ice　beneath　a　thaw。　He
rose　from　his　table　and　began　to　walk　up　and　down　the　room。　He　talked
to　himself　aloud。

〃Great　Heavens！〃　he　muttered；　〃what　a　game　to　have　played；　and　it　will
go　through。　I　believe　that　it　will　go　through。〃

He　stopped　at　the　table；　switched　on　an　electric　light　and　made　a
rapid　calculation　on　the　back　of　a　letter　with　a　blue　pencil。

〃Yes；〃　he　said；　〃that's　my　share；　a　million　and　seventeen　thousand
pounds　in　cash；　and　two　million　in　ordinary　shares　which　can　be　worked
off　at　a　discountlet　us　say　another　seven　hundred　and　fifty
thousand；　plus　what　I　have　got　alreadyput　that　at　only　two　hundred
and　fifty　thousand　net。　Two　millions　in　all；　which　of　course　may　or
may　not　be　added　to；　probably　not；　unless　the　ordinaries　boom；　for　I
don't　mean　to　speculate　any　more。　That's　the　end　of　twenty　years'
work；　Robert　Aylward。　And　to　think　of　it；　eighteen　months　ago；
although　I　seemed　so　rich；　I　was　on　the　verge　of　bankruptcythe　very
verge；　not　worth　five　thousand　pounds。　Now　what　did　the　trick？　I
wonder　what　did　the　trick？〃

He　walked　down　the　room　and　stopped　opposite　the　ancient　marble；
staring　at　it

〃Not　Venus；　I　think；〃　he　said；　with　a　laugh；　〃Venus　never　made　any　man
rich。〃　He　turned　and　retraced　his　steps　to　the　other　end　of　the　room；
which　was　veiled　in　shadow。　Here　upon　a　second　marble　pedestal　stood
an　object　that　gleamed　dimly　through　the　gloom。　It　was　about　ten
inches　or　a　foot　high；　but　in　that　place　nothing　more　could　be　seen　of
it；　except　that　it　was　yellow　and　had　the　general　appearance　of　a
toad。　For　some　reason　it　seemed　to　attract　Sir　Robert　Aylward；　for　he
halted　to　stare　at　it；　then　stretched　out　his　hand　and　switched　on
another　lamp；　in　the　hard　brilliance　of　which　the　thing　upon　the
pedestal　suddenly　declared　itself；　leaping　out　of　the　darkness　into
light。　It　was　a　terrible　object；　a　monstrosity　of　indeterminate　sex
and　nature；　but　surmounted　by　a　woman's　head　and　face　of
extraordinary；　if　devilish　loveliness；　sunk　back　between　high　but
grotesquely　small　shoulders；　like　to　those　of　a　lizard；　so　that　it
glared　upwards。　The　workmanship　of　the　thing　was　rude　yet　strangely
powerful。　Whatever　there　is　cruel；　whatever　there　is　devilish；
whatever　there　is　inhuman　in　the　dark　places　of　the　world；　shone　out
of　the　jewelled　eyes　which　were　set　in　that　yellow　female　face；　yellow
because　its　substance　was　of　gold；　a　face　which　seemed　not　to　belong
to　the　embryonic　legs　beneath；　for　body　there　was　none；　but　to　float
above　them。　A　hollow；　life…sized　mask　with　two　tiny　frog…like　legs；
that　was　the　fashion　of　it。

〃You　are　an　ugly　brute；〃　muttered　Sir　Robert；　contemplating　this
effigy；　〃but　although　I　believe　in　nothing　in　heaven　above　or　earth
below；　except　the　abysmal　folly　of　the　British　public；　I　am　bothered
if　I　don't　believe　in　you。　At　any　rate　from　the　day　when　Vernon
brought　you　into　my　office；　my　luck　turned；　and　to　judge　from　the
smile　on　your　sweet　countenance；　I　don't　think　it　is　done　with　yet。　I
wonder　what　those　stones　are　in　your　eyes。　Opals；　I　suppose；　from　the
way　they　change　colour。　They　shine　uncommonly　to…day；　I　never　remember
them　so　bright。　I〃

At　this　moment　a　knock　came　on　the　door。　Sir　Robert　turned　off　the
lamp　and　walked　back　to　the　fireplace。

〃Come　in；〃　he　said；　and　as　he　spoke　once　more　his　pale　face　grew
impassive　and　expressionless。

The　door　opened　and　a　clerk　entered；　an　imposing…looking　clerk　with
iron…grey　hair；　who　wore　an　irreproachable　frock　coat　and　patent
leather　boots。　Advancing　to　his　master；　he　stood　respectfully　silent；
waiting　to　be　addressed。　For　quite　a　long　while　Sir　Robert　looked　over
his　head　as　though　he　did　not　see　him；　it　was　a　way　of　his。　Then　his
eyes　rested　on　the　man　dreamily　and　he　remarked　in　his　cold；　clear
voice：

〃I　don't　think　I　rang；　Jeffreys。〃

〃No；　Sir　Robert；〃　answered　the　clerk；　bowing　as　though　he　spoke　to
Royalty；　〃but　there　is　a　little　matter　about　that　article　in　/The
Cynic/。〃

〃Press　business；〃　said　Sir　Robert；　lifting　his　eyebrows；　〃you　should
know　by　this　time　that　I　do　not　attend　to　such　details。　See　Mr。
Champers…Haswell；　or　Major　Vernon。〃

〃They　are　both　out　at　the　moment；　Sir　Robert。〃

〃Go　on；　then；　Jeffreys；〃　replied　the　head　of　the　firm　with　a　resigned
sigh；　〃only　be　brief。　I　am　thinking。〃

The　clerk　bowed　again。

〃The　/Cynic/　people　have　just　telephoned　through　about　that　article　we
sent　them。　I　think