Chapter 98 Chapter 98

The little money Philip had in hand was a drop in the bucket in the eyes of others, but to him, it was a matter of life and death.But even his meager fortune was affected by the chain of events that his country was currently going through.People are making famous achievements, and this process is of great significance, but it seems absurd to affect the life of an unknown medical student.The successive defeats of Magsfontein, Colenso, and Spin Copper brought great shame to the country and dealt a fatal blow to the prestige of noble gentlemen.No one of those noble gentlemen who have always claimed that they were born with the ability to govern a country had dared to seriously challenge their assertion.Yet the old order is crumbling; people are really doing great things that will go down in history.Then, the giant displayed its power, but made another big mistake because of rushing into battle.In the end, all kinds of illusions of victory were inadvertently created.Cronjer surrendered at Pilderberg, and Ladysmith was relieved.In early March, Lord Roberts sailed into Bloemfontein.

Two or three days after the news reached London, Macalister, as soon as he entered the tavern in Peak Street, exclaimed with delight that things were much better on the Stock Exchange.The fighting was about to subside, and in a few weeks Roberts would be driving into Pretoria, and the stock market was already up and would soon be skyrocketing. "A good chance has come," he said to Philip. "But it won't work until everyone snaps up the stocks. It's all over, so let's do it!" Macalister also inquired about inside information.The manager of a mine in South Africa sent a telegram to a senior partner in his firm that the plant was undamaged.They will resume work as soon as possible.That's not speculation, it's an investment.To show that the senior partner also thought things were going well, Macalister also told Philip that the senior partner had bought five hundred shares each for his two sisters.He is a man who never invests lightly in any business unless that business is as solid as the Bank of England.

"My sire is ready to risk everything," said Macalister. Two and one eighth to one quarter of a pound per share.Macalister advised Philip not to be too greedy, and he should be satisfied with a ten shilling increase.He was going to buy three hundred shares himself, and suggested that Philip should buy the same number.He will hold on to the stocks and sell them at the right opportunity.Philip trusted Macalister very much, partly because Macalister was a Scotchman, and Scotchmen are naturally cautious in their affairs, and partly because he had made Philip some money last time.So, without further ado, Philip subscribed for the same number of shares on the spot.

"I think we'll be able to sell the stock before the deal freezes," Macalister said, "and if that doesn't work, I'll try to get your money back to you." There was nothing better than this for Philip.You can hold your breath until it is profitable to sell, so that you never have to pay for it.He again began to scan with interest the newspaper columns which carried news of the stock exchange.The next day, everything went up a little, and Macalister wrote that he had to buy a share for two pounds and a quarter.He said the market was firm.After a day or two, however, the stock price fell.The news from South Africa was disturbing, and Philip saw his shares drop by 20% with some concern.Macalister, however, was full of optimism. He believed that the Boers would not last long. Before mid-April, Roberts would advance to Johannesburg and bet Philip a top hat for it.At the check Philip had to pay nearly forty pounds.The incident made his heart flutter, but he felt that the only option was to bite the bullet and see it through: in his situation, he could not afford the loss.For the next two or three weeks, nothing happened.The Boers did not want to admit that they had lost the battle, that they had no choice but to surrender, and indeed they had a small victory or two.Philip's shares fell another half a crown.It is clear that the war is not over yet.People sold their stocks one after another.When meeting Philip, Macalister is pessimistic about the future.

"I don't know if it's a good idea to get out of here while the loss is small. I paid as much as I wanted to get the difference." Philip was so sad and worried that he could not sleep at night.In order to rush to the reading room of the club to read the newspaper, he ate breakfast in two bites.These days his breakfast is simply a cup of tea and a few slices of bread and butter.There was good news, bad news, and sometimes no news at all.If the stock price does not move, it will stop, if it moves, it will fall.He was at a loss for what to do.If he sold the shares now, he would lose a total of three hundred and fifty pounds, so that he would have only eighty pounds on hand to live on.He sincerely hoped that he wasn't so stupid back then, how good it would be if he didn't speculate in the stock exchange to make money, but even so, the only way at present is to put on a tough head.Something decisive could happen at any moment, and the stock market would be bullish again.Right now, he doesn't have the extravagant hope of making money, he just wants to make up for his shortfall.This was his only chance to complete his studies at St. Luke's Hospital.At the end of the summer term, which begins in May, he will take an examination in midwifery.After that, he will be able to graduate after another year of study.He calculated carefully in his mind that as long as he had one hundred and fifty pounds, it would be enough to pay his tuition and all other expenses, but one hundred and fifty pounds was already the minimum figure. To learn all courses.

One day in early March he went into the tavern in Peak Street, expecting to meet Macalister there.Discussing the war situation with him made Philip feel a little relieved; and when he realized that countless people besides himself were suffering from the same pain, Philip felt that his pain became less unbearable.Philip went in, and saw no one but Heyward.No sooner had he sat down than Hayward said: "On Sunday, I'm leaving for the Cape of Good Hope by boat." "Really!" exclaimed Philip. It never occurred to Philip that Hayward would be at the Cape of Good Hope.There are also many people in the hospital who have to go out.The government welcomes anyone who is qualified to be a doctor.The others went out to serve as cavalry, but they wrote back one after another to say that when their superiors learned that they were medical students, they were assigned to work in the hospital.There was a wave of patriotic enthusiasm across the country, and people from all walks of life voluntarily signed up to go to the front.

"In what capacity did you go?" "Oh, I went to be a cavalryman, and was enlisted in the Dorset Yeomanry." Philip had known Hayward eight years.The intimacy of their youth was gone.The intimacy grew out of Philip's heartfelt admiration for someone who could talk to him about literature and art.But what replaced this intimacy was the custom of reciprocating courtesy.They met once or twice a week while Hayward was in London.Hayward still talked of books of all sorts in a tone of delicacy and appreciation, which Philip was tired of hearing.Heyward's conversation irritated him sometimes.Philip gave up the blind belief in the cliché that nothing in the world meant anything but art, and he resented Hayward's contempt for practice and his lack of ambition.Philip picked up the glass and swirled the mixed wine in the glass.At this moment he remembered his early friendship with Hayward, and his earnest expectation of what he might do.All these illusions have long since burst like soap bubbles.He knew that Hayward could do nothing but talk.Hayward was now thirty-five, and he found the three hundred pounds a year more and more insufficient for his expenses, which in his youth he had considered quite ample.The clothes he was wearing were still made by senior tailors, but they had been worn for a much longer time, which he thought was not possible from time to time in the past.He was too tall, and his light-colored hair was not combed well enough to cover the bald top of his head.His blue eyes were cloudy and glazed.It was not difficult to see that he drank too much.

"How did you think of going to the Cape of Good Hope?" asked Philip blurtly. "Oh, I can't tell, I guess I should." Philip was silent, feeling terribly salty.He knew that Heyward had been driven up to the Cape by a restless emotion, from whence Heyward himself could not tell.Something in him pushed him to the front to fight for his country.It is inconceivable that a man who has always considered patriotic zeal to be nothing more than a prejudice, and who has professed himself a cosmopolitan, who has always regarded Britain as a place of exile, should take this action.His fellow countrymen hurt his feelings.Philip could not help wondering what it was that made people do things that were so contrary to their philosophy of life?It seemed more plausible for Hayward to stand by with a smile on his face and watch the savages kill each other.All this seems to indicate that people are just puppets played by an invisible force, which drives people to do one thing or another.Sometimes people also rely on reason to justify their actions, and failing this, they simply ignore reason and blindly act recklessly.

"What a special man," said Philip, "I never expected you to be a cavalryman." Hayward smiled slightly, looking a little embarrassed, but did not speak. "I had my physical yesterday," said Hayward at last. "It's worth the ggne, as long as you know you're in good health." Philip noticed that Hayward had artificially used a French word that could have been expressed in English.Just then, Macalister stepped in. "I was looking for you, Carey," he said. "People in our place don't want to hold on to the stock anymore. The market is very bad, so they all want you to subscribe for the stock."

Philip's heart sank.He knew that would not work, because doing so meant he would have to suffer a loss, but out of pride, he replied in a calm tone: "I don't know if my idea is good or not. You'd better sell the stock." "It's easy to talk about it. I'm not sure if I can sell the stock. The market is depressed and I can't find a buyer." "The price of the stock has fallen to one and one eighth of a pound." "Oh, yes, but it won't help. You can't sell it for that price."" Philip pondered for a while, trying his best to calm down his emotions.

"Then you mean the stocks are worthless?" "Oh, I didn't say that. Of course they're worth a few bucks, but, you know, nobody's buying them right now." "Then you must sell them for as much as you can get." Macalister squinted at Philip, wondering if he had been stunned by the bad news. "I'm sorry, old chap, but we're in the same boat. Who thought the war would drag on like this. I'm dragging you down, but I'm in it too." "That's all right," said Philip, "one takes risks." Philip turned and went back to his seat by the table.He had just been talking to Macalister standing up.Philip was stupefied with shock, and his head was suddenly aching, but he didn't want the other two present to think he was cowardly, so he sat with him for another hour.No matter what the two of them said, he laughed like a maniac.Finally he left his seat and said goodbye. "You take the matter very calmly," said Macalister, as he shook hands. "I don't think any man has lost three or four hundred pounds so calmly as you." On reaching the small, crude bedroom, Philip threw himself on the bed, heartbroken and hopeless.He regretted his stupidity very much.Although he kept telling himself that it was absurd to repent, because it was done and irreversible, he still couldn't help himself and regretted it.He was in so much pain that he couldn't close his eyes.In the past few years, all kinds of scenes of his wasting money for nothing came to his mind.His head hurt like it was going to explode. The next evening, the postman brought him his bill as he delivered the last mail of the day.Immediately, he looked through his bank passbook and found that after paying all the accounts, he only ended up with seven pounds.Seven pounds!Thank goodness he still had the money to pay those bills.How dreadful it would be if he had to tell Macalister that he had no money to pay the bill.During the summer term Philip works as a dresser in the ophthalmology ward.He once bought a pair of ophthalmoscopes from a student.He hadn't paid for it yet, but he didn't have the guts to tell the student that he didn't want to buy the ophthalmoscope any more.Besides, he had to buy some books.He still had about five pounds on hand.He lived on this money for six weeks.He then wrote a letter to his uncle, the pastor, which he thought was written in a completely businesslike tone.He said in the letter that because of the war, he had suffered a great loss, and that unless his uncle gave him a hand, he could not continue his studies.In it he begged his uncle to lend him £150 to be mailed to him monthly for the next year and a half.He will pay interest on this money and promise to pay back the principal gradually after he starts earning money.He would be qualified as a doctor in a year and a half at the latest, and by then he would be sure of getting an assistantship at three pounds a week.His uncle wrote back that there was nothing he could do, and that it would be immoral to ask him to sell some of his possessions now that everything was falling in value.As for the few moneys he had at hand, he felt it necessary, out of his own responsibility, to keep them in his custody in case of illness.At the end of the letter, he gave Philip a little reprimand, saying that he had warned him again and again, but Philip had just ignored his words.He could not but say frankly that he was not surprised by Philip's present position.Because he had long believed that Philip had always spent money lavishly, making ends meet, and it was expected that he would end up in this way.Philip blushed and turned pale as he read the letter.He never expected that his uncle would reject his request, and he became furious immediately.However, he was full of melancholy.If his uncle refuses to support him, he cannot stay in the hospital any longer.Suddenly, a sense of fear gripped his heart.Disregarding face, he wrote another letter to the vicar of Blackstable, describing his plight in the most embarrassing way.But perhaps Philip hadn't said it clearly, and his uncle didn't realize how difficult Philip was.He wrote back that he could not change his mind, and that Philip was twenty-five years old and it was time for him to earn his own living.After his death Philip would acquire some property, but even then he would not leave Philip a penny in cash.Philip could feel in the letter the satisfaction of a man who for years had objected to what he was doing and had been proved right.