Common sense said that the whole idea was crazy, that the Earl of October was an irresponsible nut, that I hadn't any right to leave my family to fend for themselves while I went gallivanting round the world, and that the only possible course open to me was to stay where I was, and learn to be content.
Common sense lost.
CHAPTER TWO
Nine days later I flew to England in a Boeing 707.
I slept soundly for most of the thirty-six hours from Sydney to Darwin, from Darwin to Singapore, Rangoon, and Calcutta, from Calcutta to Karachi and Damascus, and from Damascus to Dusseldorf and London Airport.
Behind me I left a crowded week into which I had packed months of paper-work and a host of practical arrangements. Part of the difficulty was that I didn't know how long I would be away, but I reckoned that if I hadn't done the job in six months I wouldn't be able to do it at all, and made that a basis for my plans.
The head stud-groom was to have full charge of the training and sale of the horses already on the place, but not to buy or breed any more.
A firm of contractors agreed to see to the general maintenance of the land and buildings. The woman currently cooking for the lads who lived in the bunk-house assured me that she would look after the family when they came back for the long Christmas summer holiday from December to February.
I arranged with the bank manager that I should send post-dated cheques for the next term's school fees and for the fodder and tack for the horses, and I wrote a pile for the head groom to cash one at a time for the men's food, and wages. October assured me that 'my fee' would be transferred to my account without delay.
"If I don't succeed, you shall have your money back, less what it has cost me to be away," I told him.