If you insist on putting work first, any quack doctor can truthfully assure you that at your age you are likely to die.
So now my problem is to get your mind off your underground systems, and get you to take a real rest.”
“I will do the best I can,” said Cowperwood, “but some of these burdens are not so easy to drop as you may imagine.
They concern the interests of hundreds of people who have put their complete faith in me, besides millions of Londoners who have never been able to travel beyond the limits of their own neighborhoods.
With my plan, they will be able to ride to all parts of London for as little as tuppence, and so get a fairly good idea of what their city is like.”
“There you go, Frank!
If your life should suddenly end, where would your Londoners be then?”
“My Londoners will be all right, whether I live or die, assuming that I get my underground plan fully launched before I die.
Yes, Jeff, I’m afraid I do put my work far above myself.
In fact, this thing I’ve started has already grown so large that no one man is indispensable to it now, not even me, although there are many things I can do if I live long enough to carry out my ideas.”
Chapter 63
Dr. James, meanwhile, had much to ponder over concerning Cowperwood’s illness and the financial burdens which troubled him.
As for the Bright’s disease which the London physician had suggested might be so swiftly fatal, he knew of related cases that had endured for many years.
Yet there were aspects of Cowperwood’s case that were serious. For one, the dilation of the stomach, and for another, the acute pains that attacked him from time to time; certainly these, along with his mental disturbance in regard to his business affairs, might do him great harm.
Another disturbing factor was his worry over various problems in connection with his past life, about which James knew a great deal—his first wife, his son; Aileen, and other attachments which had from time to time been commented on in the newspapers.
What to do, what to do for this man for whom he cared so much!
What particular thing, apart from medicine, might tend to restore him, if for no more than a period of time!
The mind!
The mind!
If he could only mentally, as well as medically, influence his mind to come to its own rescue!
Suddenly he felt that he had stumbled upon the required idea.
This was that Cowperwood must be strengthened to the point where he would be willing to go on a leisurely trip abroad, not only to interest him in a change of scene but to cause the public, both in England and America, to be astonished by the news that he was well enough to be traveling, so that people would say:
“Why, this man isn’t sick!
He’s so much recovered that he can travel and enjoy himself!”
The effect of this would probably not only restore Cowperwood’s somewhat depleted nervous energy but cause him to believe that he was well, or at least very much better.
Strangely enough, the place that the good doctor’s mind returned to again and again as a possible solution of his problem was the Riviera, Monte Carlo, the great gambling center.
How effective it would be if the press were to announce his presence there, at the gambling tables, among grandiose dukes and Asiatic princes!
Psychologically! would that not enhance Cowperwood’s standing as a financier?
A thousand to one it would!
The next day, when he returned to Pryor’s Cove and thoroughly examined Cowperwood, the doctor put forth his suggestion.
“Personally, Frank,” he began, “I think that in about three weeks you should be well enough to leave here and take a nice leisurely trip.
So my prescription now is that temporarily you abandon this life here and go abroad with me.”
“Abroad?” queried Cowperwood, his tone expressing his astonishment.
“Yes, and do you want to know why?
Because the newspapers would certainly take note of the fact that you were able to travel.
That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Quite!” replied Cowperwood.
“Where do we go?”
“Well, Paris, may be, and probably we might go to Carlsbad—a most detestable watering place, I know, but excellent for you physically.”
“For God’s sake, where do I go from there?”
“Well,” said James, “you may have your choice of Prague, Budapest, Vienna, and the Riviera, including Monte Carlo.”
“What!” exclaimed Cowperwood!
“Me in Monte Carlo!”
“Yes, you in Monte Carlo, as sick as you imagine yourself to be.
Appearing in Monte Carlo at this particular time is certain to produce just the reaction you want in connection with yourself.
Yet, actually, you need not do anything more than appear in one of the gambling rooms and lose a few thousand dollars, so that the news can be spread abroad.
People will comment on your being there, and the fact that it seems to make no difference to you as to the amount of money you toss away.”
“Stop, stop!” shouted Cowperwood.
“If I have the strength, I’ll go, and if it doesn’t turn out right, I’ll sue you for breach of promise!”
“Do that,” returned James.