A Transatlantic Tunnel, Hurrah! Read Online Free PDF Page A

needed.” He lowered his voice unconsciously. “The Queen was consulted.”
    This was a revelation of a staggering nature, a secret of state so well kept that Washington, privy as he was to the innermost operations of The Transatlantic Tunnel Company, had not the slightest intimation of the truth until this moment. He was stunned at first, then narrowed his eyes in thought as he considered the ramifications. He was scarcely aware that the marquis rose and poured them each a sherry from the cut crys-tal decanter on the sideboard, though his fingers took it automat-ically and raised it to his lips.
    He finally spoke. “Can you tell me what is the degree of involvement of the government?”
    “In for a penny, in for a pound. Private investors have so far subscribed about twelve percent of the needed sum. Her Majesty’s Govern-ment has agreed to take eighty per-cent—but no more.”
    “Then we are eight percent short of our goal?”
    “Precisely.” The marquis paced the length of the room and back, his hands clasped behind him and kneading one another. “I’ve had my doubts from the beginning, God knows we have all had our doubts. But it was Lord Keynes who had his way, Queen’s adviser, author of I don’t know how many books on eco-nomics, ninety years if he is a day and still spry enough to take on all comers. He had us all convinced, it sounded so good when he told us how well it would work. Money in circulation, capital on the move, healthy profits for investors, businesses expanding to meet the needs for building the tunnel, employment all around, pay packets going out to the small merchants, a healthy econ-omy.”
    “All of those things could be true.”
    “Damme, all those things will be true—if the whole thing doesn’t go bust first. And it will go bust and things will be back to where they were, if not worse, unless we can come up with the missing eight percent. And, you will pardon my frankness, my boy, but it is your bloody fellow colonials who are tug-ging back on the reins. You can help us there, possibly only you can help us there. Without overexaggerating I can say the fate of the tunnel de-pends upon you.”
    “I will do whatever is needed, sir,” Washington said quietly and simply.
    “You may count upon me.”
    “I knew I could, or I would not have had you here. Forgive my bad manners, it’s been a deucedly long day and more to come. We have an agreement with your Colonial Con-gress and the Governor General—yes they were consulted, too; your econ-omy shares the same debilitations as ours—to match equally all monies raised by private investors in the Americas. There has been but a trickle where we needed a flood. Radical changes are needed. You, of course, know Rockefeller, chairman of the American Board, and Macin-tosh, Brassey-Brunel’s agent in charge of the construction at the American end. Both have agreed, in the course of the greater good, that they will step down. The two posi-tions will be combined into one and you will be nominated tonight to fill it.”
    “Good God!” Washington gasped. “May He approve and be on our side.
    Our first consideration was that the candidate be a good engineer, and you are that. We know you will do the work. The second is that you are a Colonial, one of their own people, so the operation has a defi-nite American ring to it. I realize that there are some among the Tories who hold your family name ana-thema, we must be frank, but I feel they are in a minority. Our hope is that this appointment and your ef-forts will spur the lagging sales of bonds that will permit the operation to continue. Will you do it?”
    “I gave my word, I will not with-draw it now. But there will be difficulties…”
    “A single difficulty, and you can put the name to it.”
    “Sir Isambard. The design of the tunnel is all his, the very conception indeed. I am just an employee carry-ing out his orders as is his agent Macintosh, who is not even an engi-neer. If I am to