CHAPTER LVIII.
MR. SQUERCUM IS EMPLOYED.
While these things were being done in Bruton Street and GrosvenorSquare horrid rumours were prevailing in the City and spreading fromthe City westwards to the House of Commons, which was sitting thisMonday afternoon with a prospect of an adjournment at seven o'clockin consequence of the banquet to be given to the Emperor. It isdifficult to explain the exact nature of this rumour, as it was notthoroughly understood by those who propagated it. But it is certainlythe case that the word forgery was whispered by more than one pair oflips.
Many of Melmotte's staunchest supporters thought that he was verywrong not to show himself that day in the City. What good could he dopottering about among the chairs and benches in the banqueting room?There were people to manage that kind of thing. In such an affair itwas his business to do simply as he was told, and to pay the bill. Itwas not as though he were giving a little dinner to a friend, and hadto see himself that the wine was brought up in good order. His workwas in the City; and at such a time as this and in such a crisisas this, he should have been in the City. Men will whisper forgerybehind a man's back who would not dare even to think it before hisface.
Of this particular rumour our young friend Dolly Longestaffe was theparent. With unhesitating resolution, nothing awed by his father,Dolly had gone to his attorney, Mr. Squercum, immediately after thatFriday on which Mr. Longestaffe first took his seat at the RailwayBoard. Dolly was possessed of fine qualities, but it must be ownedthat veneration was not one of them. "I don't know why Mr. Melmotteis to be different from anybody else," he had said to his father."When I buy a thing and don't pay for it, it is because I haven't gotthe tin, and I suppose it's about the same with him. It's all right,no doubt, but I don't see why he should have got hold of the placetill the money was paid down."
"Of course it's all right," said the father. "You think youunderstand everything, when you really understand nothing at all."
"Of course I'm slow," said Dolly. "I don't comprehend these things.But then Squercum does. When a fellow is stupid himself, he ought tohave a sharp fellow to look after his business."
"You'll ruin me and yourself too, if you go to such a man as that.Why can't you trust Mr. Bideawhile? Slow and Bideawhile have beenthe family lawyers for a century." Dolly made some remark as to theold family advisers which was by no means pleasing to the father'sears, and went his way. The father knew his boy, and knew that hisboy would go to Squercum. All he could himself do was to press Mr.Melmotte for the money with what importunity he could assume. Hewrote a timid letter to Mr. Melmotte, which had no result; and then,on the next Friday, again went into the City and there encounteredperturbation of spirit and sheer loss of time,--as the reader hasalready learned.
Squercum was a thorn in the side of all the Bideawhiles. Mr. Slow hadbeen gathered to his fathers, but of the Bideawhiles there were threein the business, a father and two sons, to whom Squercum was a pestand a musquito, a running sore and a skeleton in the cupboard. Itwas not only in reference to Mr. Longestaffe's affairs that theyknew Squercum. The Bideawhiles piqued themselves on the decorous andorderly transaction of their business. It had grown to be a rule inthe house that anything done quickly must be done badly. They neverwere in a hurry for money, and they expected their clients never tobe in a hurry for work. Squercum was the very opposite to this. Hehad established himself, without predecessors and without a partner,and we may add without capital, at a little office in Fetter Lane,and had there made a character for getting things done after amarvellous and new fashion. And it was said of him that he was fairlyhonest, though it must be owned that among the Bideawhiles of theprofession this was not the character which he bore. He did sharpthings no doubt, and had no hesitation in supporting the interestsof sons against those of their fathers. In more than one case he hadcomputed for a young heir the exact value of his share in a propertyas compared to that of his father, and had come into hostile contactwith many family Bideawhiles. He had been closely watched. There weresome who, no doubt, would have liked to crush a man who was at onceso clever, and so pestilential. But he had not as yet been crushed,and had become quite in vogue with elder sons. Some three years sincehis name had been mentioned to Dolly by a friend who had for yearsbeen at war with his father, and Squercum had been quite a comfort toDolly.
He was a mean-looking little man, not yet above forty, who alwayswore a stiff light-coloured cotton cravat, an old dress coat, acoloured dingy waistcoat, and light trousers of some hue differentfrom his waistcoat. He generally had on dirty shoes and gaiters. Hewas light haired, with light whiskers, with putty-formed features, asquat nose, a large mouth, and very bright blue eyes. He looked asunlike the normal Bideawhile of the profession as a man could be; andit must be owned, though an attorney, would hardly have been takenfor a gentleman from his personal appearance. He was very quick,and active in his motions, absolutely doing his law work himself,and trusting to his three or four juvenile clerks for little morethan scrivener's labour. He seldom or never came to his office on aSaturday, and many among his enemies said that he was a Jew. Whatevil will not a rival say to stop the flow of grist to the mill ofthe hated one? But this report Squercum rather liked, and assisted.They who knew the inner life of the little man declared that hekept a horse and hunted down in Essex on Saturday, doing a bit ofgardening in the summer months;--and they said also that he made upfor this by working hard all Sunday. Such was Mr. Squercum,--a sign,in his way, that the old things are being changed.
Squercum sat at a desk, covered with papers in chaotic confusion, ona chair which moved on a pivot. His desk was against the wall, andwhen clients came to him, he turned himself sharp round, sticking outhis dirty shoes, throwing himself back till his body was an inclinedplane, with his hands thrust into his pockets. In this attitude hewould listen to his client's story, and would himself speak as littleas possible. It was by his instructions that Dolly had insisted ongetting his share of the purchase money for Pickering into his ownhands, so that the incumbrance on his own property might be paidoff. He now listened as Dolly told him of the delay in the payment."Melmotte's at Pickering?" asked the attorney. Then Dolly informedhim how the tradesmen of the great financier had already half knockeddown the house. Squercum still listened, and promised to look to it.He did ask what authority Dolly had given for the surrender of thetitle-deeds. Dolly declared that he had given authority for the sale,but none for the surrender. His father, some time since, had putbefore him, for his signature, a letter, prepared in Mr. Bideawhile'soffice, which Dolly said that he had refused even to read, andcertainly had not signed. Squercum again said that he'd look to it,and bowed Dolly out of his room. "They've got him to sign somethingwhen he was tight," said Squercum to himself, knowing something ofthe habits of his client. "I wonder whether his father did it, or oldBideawhile, or Melmotte himself?" Mr. Squercum was inclined to thinkthat Bideawhile would not have done it, that Melmotte could have hadno opportunity, and that the father must have been the practitioner."It's not the trick of a pompous old fool either," said Mr. Squercum,in his soliloquy. He went to work, however, making himself detestablyodious among the very respectable clerks in Mr. Bideawhile'soffice,--men who considered themselves to be altogether superior toSquercum himself in professional standing.
Mr. Squercum in his office.]
And now there came this rumour which was so far particular inits details that it inferred the forgery, of which it accused Mr.Melmotte, to his mode of acquiring the Pickering property. Thenature of the forgery was of course described in various ways,--aswas also the signature said to have been forged. But there weremany who believed, or almost believed, that something wrong hadbeen done,--that some great fraud had been committed; and inconnection with this it was ascertained,--by some as a matter ofcertainty,--that the Pickering estate had been already mortgagedby Melmotte to its full value at an assurance office. In such atransaction there would be nothing dishonest; but as this placehad been bought for the great man's own family use,
and not as aspeculation, even this report of the mortgage tended to injure hiscredit. And then, as the day went on, other tidings were told as toother properties. Houses in the East-end of London were said to havebeen bought and sold, without payment of the purchase money as to thebuying, and with receipt of the purchase money as to the selling.
It was certainly true that Squercum himself had seen the letter inMr. Bideawhile's office which conveyed to the father's lawyer theson's sanction for the surrender of the title-deeds, and that thatletter, prepared in Mr. Bideawhile's office, purported to haveDolly's signature. Squercum said but little, remembering that hisclient was not always clear in the morning as to anything he had doneon the preceding evening. But the signature, though it was scrawledas Dolly always scrawled it, was not like the scrawl of a drunkenman.
The letter was said to have been sent to Mr. Bideawhile's office withother letters and papers, direct from old Mr. Longestaffe. Such wasthe statement made at first to Mr. Squercum by the Bideawhile party,who at that moment had no doubt of the genuineness of the letter orof the accuracy of their statement. Then Squercum saw his clientagain, and returned to the charge at Bideawhile's office, with thepositive assurance that the signature was a forgery. Dolly, whenquestioned by Squercum, quite admitted his propensity to be "tight."He had no reticence, no feeling of disgrace on such matters. But hehad signed no letter when he was tight. "Never did such a thing in mylife, and nothing could make me," said Dolly. "I'm never tight exceptat the club, and the letter couldn't have been there. I'll be drawnand quartered if I ever signed it. That's flat." Dolly was intent ongoing to his father at once, on going to Melmotte at once, on goingto Bideawhile's at once, and making there "no end of a row,"--butSquercum stopped him. "We'll just ferret this thing out quietly,"said Squercum, who perhaps thought that there would be high honourin discovering the peccadillos of so great a man as Mr. Melmotte. Mr.Longestaffe, the father, had heard nothing of the matter till theSaturday after his last interview with Melmotte in the City. He hadthen called at Bideawhile's office in Lincoln's Inn Fields, and hadbeen shown the letter. He declared at once that he had never sentthe letter to Mr. Bideawhile. He had begged his son to sign theletter and his son had refused. He did not at that moment distinctlyremember what he had done with the letter unsigned. He believed hehad left it with the other papers; but it was possible that his sonmight have taken it away. He acknowledged that at the time he hadbeen both angry and unhappy. He didn't think that he could have sentthe letter back unsigned,--but he was not sure. He had more thanonce been in his own study in Bruton Street since Mr. Melmotte hadoccupied the house,--by that gentleman's leave,--having left variouspapers there under his own lock and key. Indeed it had been matterof agreement that he should have access to his own study when he letthe house. He thought it probable that he would have kept back theunsigned letter, and have kept it under lock and key, when he sentaway the other papers. Then reference was made to Mr. Longestaffe'sown letter to the lawyer, and it was found that he had not evenalluded to that which his son had been asked to sign; but that he hadsaid, in his own usually pompous style, that Mr. Longestaffe, junior,was still prone to create unsubstantial difficulties. Mr. Bideawhilewas obliged to confess that there had been a want of caution amonghis own people. This allusion to the creation of difficulties byDolly, accompanied, as it was supposed to have been, by Dolly'sletter doing away with all difficulties, should have attractednotice. Dolly's letter must have come in a separate envelope; butsuch envelope could not be found, and the circumstance was notremembered by the clerk. The clerk who had prepared the letter forDolly's signature represented himself as having been quite satisfiedwhen the letter came again beneath his notice with Dolly's well-knownsignature.
Such were the facts as far as they were known at Messrs. Slow andBideawhile's office,--from whom no slightest rumour emanated; and asthey had been in part collected by Squercum, who was probably lessprudent. The Bideawhiles were still perfectly sure that Dolly hadsigned the letter, believing the young man to be quite incapable ofknowing on any day what he had done on the day before.
Squercum was quite sure that his client had not signed it. And itmust be owned on Dolly's behalf that his manner on this occasion wasqualified to convince. "Yes," he said to Squercum; "it's easy sayingthat I'm lack-a-daisical. But I know when I'm lack-a-daisical andwhen I'm not. Awake or asleep, drunk or sober, I never signed thatletter." And Mr. Squercum believed him.
It would be hard to say how the rumour first got into the City onthis Monday morning. Though the elder Longestaffe had first heardof the matter only on the previous Saturday, Mr. Squercum had beenat work for above a week. Mr. Squercum's little matter alone mighthardly have attracted the attention which certainly was given on thisday to Mr. Melmotte's private affairs;--but other facts coming tolight assisted Squercum's views. A great many shares of the SouthCentral Pacific and Mexican Railway had been thrown upon the market,all of which had passed through the hands of Mr. Cohenlupe;--and Mr.Cohenlupe in the City had been all to Mr. Melmotte as Lord Alfred hadbeen at the West End. Then there was the mortgage of this Pickeringproperty, for which the money certainly had not been paid; and therewas the traffic with half a street of houses near the CommercialRoad, by which a large sum of money had come into Mr. Melmotte'shands. It might, no doubt, all be right. There were many who thoughtthat it would all be right. There were not a few who expressed themost thorough contempt for these rumours. But it was felt to be apity that Mr. Melmotte was not in the City.
This was the day of the dinner. The Lord Mayor had even made up hismind that he would not go to the dinner. What one of his brotheraldermen said to him about leaving others in the lurch might be quitetrue; but, as his lordship remarked, Melmotte was a commercial man,and as these were commercial transactions it behoved the Lord Mayorof London to be more careful than other men. He had always had hisdoubts, and he would not go. Others of the chosen few of the Citywho had been honoured with commands to meet the Emperor resolvedupon absenting themselves unless the Lord Mayor went. The affair wasvery much discussed, and there were no less than six declared Citydefaulters. At the last moment a seventh was taken ill and sent anote to Miles Grendall excusing himself, which was thrust into thesecretary's hands just as the Emperor arrived.
But a reverse worse than this took place;--a defalcation moreinjurious to the Melmotte interests generally even than that whichwas caused either by the prudence or by the cowardice of the CityMagnates. The House of Commons, at its meeting, had heard the tidingsin an exaggerated form. It was whispered about that Melmotte hadbeen detected in forging the deed of conveyance of a large property,and that he had already been visited by policemen. By some it wasbelieved that the Great Financier would lie in the hands of thePhilistines while the Emperor of China was being fed at his house.In the third edition of the "Evening Pulpit" came out a mysteriousparagraph which nobody could understand but they who had known allabout it before. "A rumour is prevalent that frauds to an enormousextent have been committed by a gentleman whose name we areparticularly unwilling to mention. If it be so it is indeedremarkable that they should have come to light at the present moment.We cannot trust ourselves to say more than this." No one wishesto dine with a swindler. No one likes even to have dined with aswindler,--especially to have dined with him at a time when hisswindling was known or suspected. The Emperor of China no doubt wasgoing to dine with this man. The motions of Emperors are managed withsuch ponderous care that it was held to be impossible now to savethe country from what would doubtless be felt to be a disgrace ifit should hereafter turn out that a forger had been solicited toentertain the imperial guest of the country. Nor was the thing as yetso far certain as to justify such a charge, were it possible. Butmany men were unhappy in their minds. How would the story be toldhereafter if Melmotte should be allowed to play out his game of hostto the Emperor, and be arrested for forgery as soon as the EasternMonarch should have left his house? How would the brother of the Sunlike the remembrance of the banquet which he had been instructe
dto honour with his presence? How would it tell in all the foreignnewspapers, in New York, in Paris, and Vienna, that this man whohad been cast forth from the United States, from France, and fromAustria had been selected as the great and honourable type of BritishCommerce? There were those in the House who thought that the absoluteconsummation of the disgrace might yet be avoided, and who were ofopinion that the dinner should be "postponed." The leader of theOpposition had a few words on the subject with the Prime Minister."It is the merest rumour," said the Prime Minister. "I have inquired,and there is nothing to justify me in thinking that the charges canbe substantiated."
"They say that the story is believed in the City."
"I should not feel myself justified in acting upon such a report. ThePrince might probably find it impossible not to go. Where should webe if Mr. Melmotte to-morrow were able to prove the whole to be acalumny, and to show that the thing had been got up with a view ofinfluencing the election at Westminster? The dinner must certainly goon."
"And you will go yourself?"
"Most assuredly," said the Prime Minister. "And I hope that you willkeep me in countenance." His political antagonist declared witha smile that at such a crisis he would not desert his honourablefriend;--but he could not answer for his followers. There was, headmitted, a strong feeling among the leaders of the Conservativeparty of distrust in Melmotte. He considered it probable that amonghis friends who had been invited there would be some who would beunwilling to meet even the Emperor of China on the existing terms."They should remember," said the Prime Minister, "that they are alsoto meet their own Prince, and that empty seats on such an occasionwill be a dishonour to him."
"Just at present I can only answer for myself," said the leader ofthe Opposition.--At that moment even the Prime Minister was muchdisturbed in his mind; but in such emergencies a Prime Minister canonly choose the least of two evils. To have taken the Emperor to dinewith a swindler would be very bad; but to desert him, and to stop thecoming of the Emperor and all the Princes on a false rumour, would beworse.