Had I made sure of anything at the landing?Yes;Hortense didn't care for Charley in the least,and never would.A woman can stamp her foot at a man and love him simultaneously;but those two light taps,and the measure that her eyes took of Charley,meant that she must love his possessions very much to be able to bear him at all.
Then,what was her feeling about John Mayrant?As Beverly had said,what could she want him for?He hadn't a thing that she valued or needed.His old-time notions of decency,the clean simplicity of his make,his good Southern position,and his collection of nice old relatives--what did these assets look like from an automobile,or on board the launch of a modern steam yacht?And wouldn't it be amusing if John should grow need-lessly jealous,and have a "difficulty"with Charley?not a mere flinging of torn paper money in the banker's face,but some more decided punishment for the banker's presuming to rest his predatory eyes upon John's affianced lady.
I stared at the now broadening river,where the reappearance of the bridge,and of Kings Port,and the nearer chimneys pouring out their smoke a few miles above the town,betokened that our excursion was drawing to its end.And then from the chimney's neighborhood,from the waterside where their factories stood,there shot out into the smoothness of the stream a launch.It crossed into our course ahead of us,preceded us quickly,growing soon into a dot,went through the bridge,and so was seen no longer;and its occupants must have reached town a good half hour before we did.And now,suddenly,I was stunned with a great discovery.
The bride's voice sounded in my ear."Well,I'll always say you're a prophet,anyhow!"I looked at her,dull and dazed by the internal commotion the discovery had raised in me.
"You said we wouldn't get stuck in the mud,and we didn't,"said the bride.
I pointed to the chimneys."Are those the phosphate works?""Yais.Didn't you know?"
"The V-C phosphate works?"
"Why,yais.Haven't you been to see them yet?He ought to,oughtn't he,David?'Specially now they've found those deposits up the river were just as rich as they hoped,after all.""Whose?Mr.Mayrant's?"I asked with such sharpness that the bride was surprised.
David hadn't attended to the name.It was some trust estate,he thought;Regent Tom,or some such thing "And they thought it was no good,"said the bride."And it's aivry bit as good as the Coosaw used to be.Better than Florida or Tennessee."My eyes instinctively turned to where they had last seen the launch;of course it wasn't there any more.Then I spoke to David.
"Do you know what a phosphate bed looks like?Can one see it?""This kind you can,"he answered."But it's not worth your trouble.Just a kind of a square hole you dig along the river till you strike the stuff.What you want to see is the works."No,I didn't want to see even the works;they smelt atrociously,and I do not care for vats,and acids,and processes:and besides,had I not seen enough?My eyes went down the river again where that launch had gone;and I wondered if the wedding-cake would be postponed any more.
Regent Tom?Oh,yes,to be sure!John Mayrant had pointed out to me the house where he had lived;he had been John's uncle.So the old gentleman had left his estate in trust!And now--!But certainly Hortense would have won the battle of Chattanooga!
