CHAPTER XL.
"UNANIMITY IS THE VERY SOUL OF THESE THINGS."
That evening Montague was surprised to receive at the Beargarden anote from Mr. Melmotte, which had been brought thither by a messengerfrom the city,--who had expected to have an immediate answer, asthough Montague lived at the club.
"Dear Sir," said the letter,
If not inconvenient would you call on me in Grosvenor Square to-morrow, Sunday, at half past eleven. If you are going to church, perhaps you will make an appointment in the afternoon; if not, the morning will suit best. I want to have a few words with you in private about the Company. My messenger will wait for answer if you are at the club.
Yours truly,
AUGUSTUS MELMOTTE.
PAUL MONTAGUE, Esq., The Beargarden.
Paul immediately wrote to say that he would call at Grosvenor Squareat the hour appointed,--abandoning any intentions which he might havehad in reference to Sunday morning service. But this was not the onlyletter he received that evening. On his return to his lodgings hefound a note, containing only one line, which Mrs. Hurtle had foundthe means of sending to him after her return from Southend. "I am sosorry to have been away. I will expect you all to-morrow. W. H." Theperiod of the reprieve was thus curtailed to less than a day.
On the Sunday morning he breakfasted late and then walked up toGrosvenor Square, much pondering what the great man could have tosay to him. The great man had declared himself very plainly in theBoard-room,--especially plainly after the Board had risen. Paul hadunderstood that war was declared, and had understood also that he wasto fight the battle single-handed, knowing nothing of such strategyas would be required, while his antagonist was a great master offinancial tactics. He was prepared to go to the wall in reference tohis money, only hoping that in doing so he might save his characterand keep the reputation of an honest man. He was quite resolvedto be guided altogether by Mr. Ramsbottom, and intended to ask Mr.Ramsbottom to draw up for him such a statement as would be fittingfor him to publish. But it was manifest now that Mr. Melmotte wouldmake some proposition, and it was impossible that he should have Mr.Ramsbottom at his elbow to help him.
He had been in Melmotte's house on the night of the ball, but hadcontented himself after that with leaving a card. He had heard muchof the splendour of the place, but remembered simply the crush andthe crowd, and that he had danced there more than once or twice withHetta Carbury. When he was shown into the hall he was astonished tofind that it was not only stripped, but was full of planks, andladders, and trussels, and mortar. The preparations for the greatdinner had been already commenced. Through all this he made his wayto the stairs, and was taken up to a small room on the second floor,where the servant told him that Mr. Melmotte would come to him. Herehe waited a quarter of an hour looking out into the yard at theback. There was not a book in the room, or even a picture with whichhe could amuse himself. He was beginning to think whether his ownpersonal dignity would not be best consulted by taking his departure,when Melmotte himself, with slippers on his feet and enveloped in amagnificent dressing-gown, bustled into the room. "My dear sir, I amso sorry. You are a punctual man I see. So am I. A man of businessshould be punctual. But they ain't always. Brehgert,--from the houseof Todd, Brehgert, and Goldsheiner, you know,--has just been withme. We had to settle something about the Moldavian loan. He came aquarter late, and of course he went a quarter late. And how is a manto catch a quarter of an hour? I never could do it." Montague assuredthe great man that the delay was of no consequence. "And I am sosorry to ask you into such a place as this. I had Brehgert in myroom down-stairs, and then the house is so knocked about! We getinto a furnished house a little way off in Bruton Street to-morrow.Longestaffe lets me his house for a month till this affair of thedinner is over. By-the-bye, Montague, if you'd like to come to thedinner, I've got a ticket I can let you have. You know how they'rerun after." Montague had heard of the dinner, but had perhaps heardas little of it as any man frequenting a club at the west end ofLondon. He did not in the least want to be at the dinner, andcertainly did not wish to receive any extraordinary civility fromMr. Melmotte's hands. But he was very anxious to know why Mr.Melmotte should offer it. He excused himself saying that he was notparticularly fond of big dinners, and that he did not like standingin the way of other people. "Ah, indeed," said Melmotte. "There areever so many people of title would give anything for a ticket. You'dbe astonished at the persons who have asked. We've had to squeeze ina chair on one side for the Master of the Buckhounds, and on anotherfor the Bishop of--; I forget what bishop it is, but we had the twoarchbishops before. They say he must come because he has somethingto do with getting up the missionaries for Thibet. But I've got theticket, if you'll have it." This was the ticket which was to havetaken in Georgiana Longestaffe as one of the Melmotte family, had notMelmotte perceived that it might be useful to him as a bribe. ButPaul would not take the bribe. "You're the only man in London then,"said Melmotte, somewhat offended. "But at any rate you'll come inthe evening, and I'll have one of Madame Melmotte's tickets sent toyou." Paul, not knowing how to escape, said that he would come in theevening. "I am particularly anxious," continued he, "to be civil tothose who are connected with our great Railway, and of course, inthis country, your name stands first,--next to my own."
Then the great man paused, and Paul began to wonder whether it couldbe possible that he had been sent for to Grosvenor Square on a Sundaymorning in order that he might be asked to dine in the same house afortnight later. But that was impossible. "Have you anything specialto say about the Railway?" he asked.
"Well, yes. It is so hard to get things said at the Board. Of coursethere are some there who do not understand matters."
"I doubt if there be any one there who does understand this matter,"said Paul.
Melmotte affected to laugh. "Well, well; I am not prepared to goquite so far as that. My friend Cohenlupe has had great experience inthese affairs, and of course you are aware that he is in Parliament.And Lord Alfred sees farther into them than perhaps you give himcredit for."
"He may easily do that."
"Well, well. Perhaps you don't know him quite as well as I do." Thescowl began to appear on Mr. Melmotte's brow. Hitherto it had beenbanished as well as he knew how to banish it. "What I wanted to sayto you was this. We didn't quite agree at the last meeting."
"No; we did not."
"I was very sorry for it. Unanimity is everything in the direction ofsuch an undertaking as this. With unanimity we can do--everything."Mr. Melmotte in the ecstasy of his enthusiasm lifted up both hishands over his head. "Without unanimity we can do--nothing." Andthe two hands fell. "Unanimity should be printed everywhere about aBoard-room. It should, indeed, Mr. Montague."
"But suppose the directors are not unanimous."
"They should be unanimous. They should make themselves unanimous. Godbless my soul! You don't want to see the thing fall to pieces!"
"Not if it can be carried on honestly."
"Honestly! Who says that anything is dishonest?" Again the browbecame very heavy. "Look here, Mr. Montague. If you and I quarrelin that Board-room, there is no knowing the amount of evil we maydo to every individual shareholder in the Company. I find theresponsibility on my own shoulders so great that I say the thing mustbe stopped. Damme, Mr. Montague, it must be stopped. We mustn't ruinwidows and children, Mr. Montague. We mustn't let those shares rundown 20 below par for a mere chimera. I've known a fine propertyblasted, Mr. Montague, sent straight to the dogs,--annihilated,sir;--so that it all vanished into thin air, and widows and childrenpast counting were sent out to starve about the streets,--justbecause one director sat in another director's chair. I did, byG----! What do you think of that, Mr. Montague? Gentlemen who don'tknow the nature of credit, how strong it is,--as the air,--to buoyyou up; how slight it is,--as a mere vapour,--when roughly touched,can do an amount of mischief of which they themselves don't in theleast understand the extent! What is it you want, Mr. Montague?"
/> "What do I want?" Melmotte's description of the peculiarsusceptibility of great mercantile speculations had not been givenwithout some effect on Montague, but this direct appeal to himselfalmost drove that effect out of his mind. "I only want justice."
"But you should know what justice is before you demand it at theexpense of other people. Look here, Mr. Montague. I suppose you arelike the rest of us, in this matter. You want to make money out ofit."
"For myself, I want interest for my capital; that is all. But I amnot thinking of myself."
"You are getting very good interest. If I understand thematter,"--and here Melmotte pulled out a little book, showing therebyhow careful he was in mastering details,--"you had about L6,000embarked in the business when Fisker joined your firm. You imagineyourself to have that still."
"I don't know what I've got."
"I can tell you then. You have that, and you've drawn nearly athousand pounds since Fisker came over, in one shape or another.That's not bad interest on your money."
"There was back interest due to me."
"If so, it's due still. I've nothing to do with that. Look here, Mr.Montague. I am most anxious that you should remain with us. I wasabout to propose, only for that little rumpus the other day, that,as you're an unmarried man, and have time on your hands, you shouldgo out to California and probably across to Mexico, in order to getnecessary information for the Company. Were I of your age, unmarried,and without impediment, it is just the thing I should like. Of courseyou'd go at the Company's expense. I would see to your own personalinterests while you were away;--or you could appoint any one by powerof attorney. Your seat at the Board would be kept for you; but,should anything occur amiss,--which it won't, for the thing is assound as anything I know,--of course you, as absent, would notshare the responsibility. That's what I was thinking. It would be adelightful trip;--but if you don't like it, you can of course remainat the Board, and be of the greatest use to me. Indeed, after a bitI could devolve nearly the whole management on you;--and I must dosomething of the kind, as I really haven't the time for it. But,--ifit is to be that way,--do be unanimous. Unanimity is the very soul ofthese things;--the very soul, Mr. Montague."
"But if I can't be unanimous?"
"Well;--if you can't, and if you won't take my advice about goingout;--which, pray, think about, for you would be most useful. Itmight be the very making of the railway;--then I can only suggestthat you should take your L6,000 and leave us. I, myself, should begreatly distressed; but if you are determined that way I will seethat you have your money. I will make myself personally responsiblefor the payment of it,--some time before the end of the year."
Paul Montague told the great man that he would consider the wholematter, and see him in Abchurch Lane before the next Board day. "Andnow, good-bye," said Mr. Melmotte, as he bade his young friend adieuin a hurry. "I'm afraid that I'm keeping Sir Gregory Gribe, the BankDirector, waiting down-stairs."