‘When I volunteered for my first expedition to Africa in 1858 I knew nothing of what it might hold for me, I went as a young man eager for adventure. I thought it would be a fine thing indeed to chart new lands, to discover unknown civilisations, to tread paths that no white man had ever seen, and indeed it was, but I could never have known that with the elation, the achievement and the comradeship there would also be the pain and the loss, disappointment and disease, and the savage murderous attacks of slavers. I will take you now, ladies and gentlemen to the shores of the great Zambezi River!’
Hope strode to the back of the platform and unfurled the first of the maps. It illustrated the whole of the continent of Africa, and was easily large enough for the audience to see the rivers and lakes. It was not these, however, that drew the eye, but two blank areas, one to the north, labelled ‘Great Desert’ and another in the centre described more tantalisingly as ‘Unexplored Region’. From the corner of her eye Mina saw some of the youths in the audience lean forward to gaze on the chart that held such promise of adventure, and thought how the hearts of those young men had been stirred and how they must long to go to that unknown place and unlock its mysteries.
The tales told by Mr Hope were undoubtedly thrilling, although Mina felt that some of the details had been tempered by the knowledge that there were ladies in the audience. His descriptions of the ravages of deadly disease were confined to generalisations, and the stories of his encounters with slavers ended at a point where the tragic outcome could be left to the hearer’s imagination, nevertheless they were more than exciting enough for Brightonian tastes. Hope knew his audience and steered a careful path, neither boastful nor tainted by false modesty. He had done all that a man might do. He had shot and eaten elephants, hippopotami and giraffes. He had befriended great chieftains. He had suffered from mysterious fevers and the bites of poisonous insects and snakes. Twice he had almost drowned in swollen rivers, and he had once been stabbed with a spear. It was a tale of desperate privation and suffering such that it seemed impossible for any man to survive. Although the journey had added substantially to the sum of geographical and botanical knowledge, it had ultimately ended by failing in its main purpose, since the Zambezi River had been found to be not fully navigable after all, due to its cataracts and rapids. Dr Livingstone’s dream of great steamers passing along the river laden with produce had vanished. The survivors of the expedition, stricken with fever and disappointed, yet bracing themselves to be ready for new challenges, had returned to the coast to recuperate and await the arrival of a new steamship with much-needed provisions. There Hope had received a message telling him of the death of his older brother, a tragedy that had necessitated his return to England to settle family business. He did not, however, forget his comrades in Africa, but worked hard to raise further funds to assist the Zambezi party. He had done so in vain, since the expedition, now denounced and even derided in the press as an expensive failure, was recalled.
‘But men of courage never despair for long,’ said Hope, ‘rather they gather their strength and return to the fight afresh! Yes, the idea of the Zambezi as a trade route had perforce to be abandoned as impractical, but now a new object was in sight, or rather an ancient object risen to new prominence, one that has long captured the hearts and minds of men as the greatest adventure the world has to offer – discovering the source of the Nile.’
Even Louisa looked enraptured.
Seven
The ultimate source of the great river of Africa was, explained Mr Hope, a destination which offered all the allure and excitement of making a flight to the Moon and back, and was a prize that had been coveted by men of daring and enterprise for thousands of years. Even modern explorers failed to agree on where the great river rose, and it behoved those men who had the courage, spirit and dedication to answer the great question.
While his sudden and unexpected elevation to master of the family estates should have required him to reside permanently in England, he had felt the call of Africa once more, and fortunately found in his younger brother a man who was not only well able but content to manage affairs at home. The money raised for the abandoned Zambezi expedition had accordingly been employed to fund another, this one starting at Zanzibar and heading west overland to find the elusive source of the Nile.
Hope then unfurled the second map, this one showing the lake systems of East Africa as far as they had been charted. His previous exploits, he said, made him without question the obvious candidate to lead the new venture. His companions were selected with care; some were naturally men of experience, those who had travelled widely and showed that they could endure hardship, but there were others who, though lacking any specific qualification, were hungry for adventure, robust and of the right stalwart character. These latter companions, who were hardly more than boys, brought with them the promise that they could be fashioned into the hardened explorers and leaders of the future.
All preparations had been made, supplies purchased and guides engaged, but only a few weeks into their journey disaster had struck. The party had been attacked by slavers, who had assumed that the travellers were rivals for their evil trade. Both men and boys had fought bravely, but of all the Europeans, only Hope and one of his experienced men, who like himself was a veteran of the Crimea, were not killed outright, and they made a narrow escape. After surviving many dangers and privations they at last reached safety but his noble-hearted companion, exhausted and suffering from malaria, died soon afterwards. It was to his comrades in adversity, both the courageous Englishmen and their loyal African guides, that African Quest was dedicated.
Mina glanced at the youths who were so eager to follow the deadly path to the Nile, and saw not one whit of dismay. Their desires were plain in in their unbearded faces. Others might have perished but to them, surely, would be the glory.
Following Hope’s return to England it had taken a year for him to return to full health, during which he had written his book, and he now travelled and lectured about the importance of abolishing the slave trade, opening Africa to lawful commerce, creating riverboat routes for the conveyance of goods, encouraging cultivation of the tracts of fertile land, and extending to the population the great benefits and blessings of Christianity. Whether he would ever return to Africa he did not know. Even now, Dr Livingstone was seeking the source of the Nile, which he believed flowed from Lake Tanganyika, although there were other explorers, notably the late Mr Speke, who would disagree, saying that Lake Victoria was the source. But nothing had been heard from Dr Livingstone for some time and if he was still alive he would be sorely in need of supplies. Hope reiterated that he would take not one penny piece from the lecture fee or the sale of his book, all would be dedicated to the cause of finding and relieving Dr Livingstone.
‘But what conclusions can I draw from my many travels and adventures?’ he went on. ‘First, that we are all God’s creatures wherever we may live and whatever the colour of our skin. Secondly that cruelty to one’s fellow beings is a great abomination. I have witnessed the loss of so many good men; I have seen them on the field of battle, mown down by fusillades, blown to pieces or expiring from the great curse of cholera; in Africa they died from malaria or dysentery, drowned in rapids or were murdered by slavers. These deaths cannot, must not, have happened in vain. We who remain must gain from their sacrifice. We must learn courage, humility and kindness. Ask yourselves, when we contemplate these apparently senseless tragedies, what message comes to us from the Almighty? I can tell you this now, that we are all of us souls looking for salvation. We will only find it by understanding and accepting a great truth. We cannot turn away from it. It is a power that is all around us, but which many seek to deny. It is a power that has an intense focus right here in this very town. I am speaking of spiritualism.’
There was a ripple of unease in the audience. Arthur Wallace Hope looked around him at faces that had suddenly begun to frown, and his mouth curved into a knowing smile. ‘Oh, I am well aware that t
here have been events here in the recent past that have strengthened the convictions of materialists, those who believe only in science and the things they can see and touch, and who dare to deny the existence of the soul. What a terrible hopeless life they must lead, to reject all the many proofs we have of survival after death, to have no faith! I implore you, do not be deceived by these empty and unhappy men and women. We must work together to bring them to a proper understanding, lead them away from the darkness of their bigotry and towards the light of knowledge. I see here the start of a new movement, a new church, even. Brighton, with its healing air and light, and the invigorating power of the sea can only attract beneficial forces. Nothing evil can thrive here! The greatest and most inspiring mediums will come to be nourished by the energy that exists in this blessed place. In the very near future I will be giving a talk at this same location on the revivification of spiritualism in Brighton. Tickets will be free of charge, but donations will be accepted towards the fund for the relief of Dr Livingstone. And now, my dear friends, I bring this talk to a close. You will see at the side of the hall a table with a display of some items I brought back from Africa, which I hope you will find of interest; cloth and beads which are to the Africans as paper money is to us. I will be available to inscribe your books in just a few moments, but before then I will be happy to take any questions from the floor.’
There was the usual polite hesitation that always arose in such situations as no one ever wished to be the first to speak, but finally a gentleman raised his hand.
‘Mr Hope, since you believe so strongly in the world of the spirit, would you be willing to express your opinion on a certain book that has attracted a considerable amount of attention here in Brighton.’
There was a stir in the audience as a number of ladies tried unsuccessfully to look as if they had no idea to what the speaker was referring. One or two stifled an embarrassed titter, but several, with stern faces, actually rose to leave.
‘Please, ladies and gentlemen,’ said Hope in a placatory tone that at once commanded attention, ‘I have no intention of offending anyone here. Sir, I am aware of the volume and have indeed read it. Not only that, but I can reveal to you that I have recently been privileged to meet and speak to the two authors.’
This statement aroused a babble of comment, and the sound of busily scribbling pencils in the notebooks of newspapermen. ‘Can you tell us who they really are?’ called out one correspondent.
‘That I cannot do since they preserve their anonymity most carefully. I was introduced to them as the Misses Bland, and did not seek to know more. But I can tell you that I found them to be modest young ladies and was utterly convinced by their assurances that they come from an extremely respectable family and have thus far led very sheltered lives. Their intention in writing the book was simply to give an honest account of their adventures and observations. In doing so, they revealed their innocence and ignorance of the world. Certain passages would appear shocking to the more knowledgeable individual, but the authors only show their pure and childlike understanding, as they wrote without really knowing what they described. But let us put aside the question of delicacy and address ourselves instead to the real importance of that extraordinary event in the Pavilion. These two young ladies actually witnessed persons of the royal court at the time when the late King George was Prince of Wales. It is a wonderful mystery! Did they perhaps witness the ghosts of the Prince and his court, in which case we must bethink ourselves how it was that these spirits appeared not as they were when they left this life, but in the full health and vigour of their youth. Or – and this has been suggested by persons more knowledgeable than I am on such matters – did the sisters actually see into a past age – see not ghosts at all, but the living? And if they did, did they do so by looking through a window in the ether that showed them the past – or did they actually step into the past themselves? These questions are of the utmost importance and must be studied by science. But I promise to speak further on this at my forthcoming talk.’
There was resounding applause, during which Mina saw her expectation that An Encounter would quickly lose its novelty value vanish like a phantom. There would be queues outside Mr Smith’s bookshop tomorrow. Since there were no more questions from the floor, Hope bowed and left the platform to take his place at the table where copies of African Quest were piled. The Lord Mayor stepped forward and asked the members of the audience not to crowd too heavily about the distinguished speaker but to form queues one row at a time. Since Mina and her party were on the front row, they were called first and Enid, her eyes shining with excitement, almost ran to have her book signed. Louisa accompanied her, not, thought Mina, as unwillingly as she might have done before hearing the author speak. Mina had no wish to stand in a great crush of people so stayed back and waited for their return.
‘That was an unexpected end to the lecture,’ said Dr Hamid, appearing with Anna at Mina’s side. ‘I am glad I decided to come, as it is always advisable to keep informed as to what is upsetting my patients.’
‘Will you go to his talk on spiritualism?’
‘I fear it may be necessary for the same reason. I hope he will not be in town too long.’
‘I know that kind of man all too well,’ said Anna grimly. ‘He has authority and confidence and the ability to draw people to him and make them believe what he believes. The more one warns against him the more one seems to be the person who is deluded.’
Miss Whinstone, with a very troubled expression on her face, was being led away and gently comforted by Mr Jellico.
‘Poor lady, she has suffered quite enough,’ said Mina. ‘It will take all her determination to speak at the trial, and now she must fear a revival of the very cause that injured her.’
All around them small chattering groups were forming and none of the talk was of the River Nile.
Dr Hamid and Anna took their leave, and Mina, seeing that Enid had seized the opportunity to tell Mr Hope at great length all about her love of Africa, went to the display table to look at the items on show there. The manservant had removed the plain cover to reveal a rainbow of delights. There were rolls of cotton fabric, some in subtle shades of blue, others in golden beige, dark red and deep brown, either striped or patterned in squares. A printed card told her that the cloth was woven on hand looms and were valuable trading commodities essential for the traveller in Africa who wished to purchase food and obtain permission to pass through tribal lands. There were also glass trading beads, some strung on twisted cord, others displayed singly, cylinders in a wide variety of glowing hues, some plain but many of them banded and streaked with colour. Mina tried to imagine what a lady of Brighton would look like dressed in garments of that richly dyed cotton and wearing those beads; bright yellow like the summer sun, blue as the sky, green as parklands, red as roses. A new idea for a story occurred to her, one in which a lady put on some mysterious garments she had discovered in a curio shop and was magically transported back to the land of their origin. The possibilities for adventure were endless.
It was as she stood engrossed in thought that the gentleman servant approached her.
‘Excuse me, but I presume you are Miss Scarletti?’
Mina did not have to ask how he had identified her. ‘I am.’
He proffered a card. ‘Mr Arthur Wallace Hope presents his compliments. He would like, with your permission, to call on you at your earliest convenience for a private conversation on a highly sensitive matter.’
Mina took the card, which was printed with Hope’s London address, a handwritten note adding the name of the Royal Albion Hotel where he might be contacted in Brighton. ‘This is quite surprising, of course, but if he would like to call I will be at home at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning.’ Mina always carried cards advertising the Scarletti Library of Romance and she wrote her address upon one and handed it to the servant.
He accepted it with a deferential smile and withdrew. Mina’s specified time was carefully chosen. He
r mother and Enid would be out that morning, exploring the new arrivals at Jordan, Conroy and Co.’s fashionable emporium where Paris came to Brighton in the form of silk, fans and lace. As she gazed at the card, Mina speculated on what such a notable man might wish to discuss with her, since she was not a person of importance in the community. Why a private conversation? What was sensitive about the subject matter? Mina was left with the uncomfortable feeling that the religious, noble and philanthropic Mr Hope could actually be a very dangerous man if crossed.
Eight
Single young women would not normally be expected to receive male visitors to whom they were not related at home alone, and in the case of Mr Arthur Wallace Hope, neither did Mina wish to. She wondered if she should ask Rose to stay with her during the interview, and should Mr Hope object to this arrangement she would be obliged to inform him that the conversation could not take place under any other circumstances. Not that anyone would suspect that some impropriety might take place – that was one advantage of Mina’s deformity – it was assumed that she was beyond any man’s appetites.
After giving the question some careful thought, Mina dismissed the idea of appointing a chaperone. Whatever it was Mr Hope wanted to say to her it was unlikely to be either romantic or indecent and she did not want him to be inhibited in his expressions by seeing Rose standing in the corner of the parlour with her sullen stare. Rose, who was both general maidservant and personal maid to Louisa, had, despite the fact that the heavy work of the house was assigned to a charlady, a great deal to complain about, but she did so wordlessly, albeit at great volume. Mina might have ordered the maid to secrecy about the meeting with Mr Hope, but the probability of the visit being mentioned to Louisa at the earliest opportunity was close to a certainty. The best way of limiting the inevitable repercussions was for Rose to know as little about the visit as possible.
The Royal Ghost Page 5