That Lord Ferriby had again made himself clear was sufficiently indicated by the fact that Major White nodded his head at this juncture with portentous gravity and wisdom.
“As to the question of profit and loss,” continued Lord Ferriby, “I am not, unfortunately, a business man myself, but I think we are all aware that the business part of the Malgamite scheme is in excellent hands. It is not, of course, intended that we, as shareholders, shall in any way profit by this new financial basis. We are shareholders in name only, and receive profits, if profits there be, merely as trustees of the Malgamite Fund. We shall administer those profits precisely as we have administered the fund--for the sole benefit of the malgamite workers. The profits of these poor men, earned on their own share, may reasonably be considered in the light of a bonus. So much for the basis upon which I propose that we shall work. The matter has had Mr. Roden's careful consideration, and I think we are ready to give our consent to any proposal which has received so marked a benefit. There are, of course, many details which will require discussion----Eh?”
Lord Ferriby broke off short, and turned to Roden, who had muttered a few words.
“Ah--yes. Yes, certainly. Mr. Roden will kindly spare us details as much as possible.”
This was considerate and somewhat appropriate, as Tony Cornish had yawned more than once.
“Now as to the past,” continued Lord Ferriby. “The works have been going for more than three months, and the result has been uniformly satisfactory----Eh?”
“Many deaths?” inquired White, stolidly repeating his question.
“Deaths? Ah--among the workers? Yes, to be sure. Perhaps Mr. von Holzen can tell you better than I.”
And his lordship bowed in what he took to be the foreign manner across the table.
“Yes,” replied Von Holzen, quietly, “there have, of course, been deaths, but not so many as I anticipated. The majority of the men had, as Mr. Cornish will tell you, death written on their faces when they arrived at The Hague.”
“They certainly looked seedy,” admitted Tony.
“We will, I think, turn rather to the--eh--er--living,” said Lord Ferriby, turning over the papers in front of him with a slightly reproachful countenance. He evidently thought it rather bad form of White to pour cold water over his new whitewash. For Lord Ferriby's was that charity which hopeth all things, and closeth her eye to practical facts, if these be discouraging. “I have here the result of the three months' work.”