Page 35 of The Armor of Light
Now Spade led Amos to his private room, which had a narrow bed, a round table and a fireplace. It was a spartan home. Spade put all his creative energy into his weaving: that was what excited him. ‘Sit down,’ he said, pointing to a wooden chair. He put a kettle ofwater on the fire and spooned tea into a pot, then sat on a stool while the kettle heated. ‘What’s the old devil up to now?’
Amos held his hands to the warmth of the fire. He looked miserable, and Spade felt sorry for him. Amos said: ‘I’ve discovered that my father has been losing money for two years.’
‘Hmm. He did seem to have lost energy.’
‘But Hornbeam has been keeping him afloat, lending him money.’
Spade frowned. ‘It’s not like Hornbeam to lend a hand to a fellow in trouble.’
‘He charged interest.’
‘Of course. How much do you owe him?’
‘A hundred and four pounds, thirteen shillings and eight pence.’
Spade whistled. ‘That’s a lot.’
‘I can hardly believe I’ve got into this position,’ Amos said, and Spade was touched by his youthful bafflement. ‘I’m an honest dealer and a hard worker, but I’m bankrupt. I feel such a fool. How can this be happening to me?’
The poor lad was in agony. Spade got up, thinking, and poured boiling water onto tea leaves. ‘You’ll just have to pay it back. It might take you years, but the ordeal will give you a good reputation.’
‘Years, yes. But Hornbeam has given me four days.’
‘What? That’s impossible. What is he thinking of?’ Spade stirred the tea in the pot and poured it into cups.
‘I told Hornbeam it couldn’t be done.’
‘What did he say to that?’
‘He said he’ll take the business away from me. He’s got a contract.’
Enlightenment dawned on Spade. ‘So that’s it.’
Amos said: ‘What do you mean,so that’s it?’
‘I was wondering why someone as tight-fisted as Hornbeam would lend money to a failing business. Now I know.’ He handed Amos a cup. ‘He wasn’t being kind. He expected your father to go bankrupt, and all along he planned to take the business into his own.’
‘Is he really that sly?’
‘The man is insatiable. He wants to own the world.’
‘Perhaps I should just wring his neck, and be hanged for murder.’
Spade smiled. ‘Don’t do that just yet. I wouldn’t like to see you hanged, and most people in Kingsbridge would feel the same.’
‘I don’t know what else to do.’
‘How long did you say Hornbeam gave you?’
‘Four days. Why?’
‘I’m just thinking.’
Eagerness gleamed in Amos’s face. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘Don’t get your hopes up. I’m trying to devise another way out, but it may not work.’
‘Tell me.’
