CHAPTER VIII
It was in the third week of April that Arthur returned to Aldersbury.Ovington had not failed to let his correspondents know that the ladwas no common mercantile person, but came of a county family and hadconnections; and Arthur had been feted by the bank's agents and mademuch of by their friends. The negotiation which Ovington had entrustedto him had gone well, as all things went well at this time. Hisabilities had been recognized in more than one counting-house, and inthe general elation and success, civilities and hospitality had beenshowered upon him. Mothers and daughters had exerted themselves toplease the nephew--it was whispered the heir--of the Aldshire magnate;and what Arthur's letters of credit had not gained for him, hishandsome face and good breeding had won. He came back, therefore, onthe best of terms with himself and more in love than ever with thecareer which he had laid out. And, but for the money difficulty, andhis mother's obstinacy, he would have seen all things in rose color.
He returned at the moment when speculation in Aldersbury--andAldersbury was in this but a gauge of the whole country--wasapproaching its fever point. The four per cent, consols, which notlong before had stood at 72, were 106. The three per cents., which hadbeen 52, had risen to 93. India stock was booming at 280, and theseprices, which would have seemed incredible to a former generation,were justified by the large profits accruing from trade and seekinginvestment. They were, indeed, nothing beside the heights to whichmore speculative stocks were being hurried. Shares in one mine, boughtat ten pounds, changed hands at a hundred and fifty. Shares inanother, on which seventy pounds had been paid, were sold at thirteenhundred. An instalment of L5 was paid on one purchase, and ten dayslater the stock was sold for one hundred and forty!
Under such circumstances new ventures were daily issued to meet thedemand. Proposals for thirty companies came out in a week, and stillthere appeared to be money for all, for the banks, tempted by theprevailing prosperity, increased their issues of notes. It seemed aneasy thing to borrow at seven per cent., and lay out the money at tenor fifteen, with certainty of a gain in capital. Men who had neverspeculated saw their neighbors grow rich, and themselves risked ahundred and doubled it, ventured two and saw themselves the possessersof six. It was like, said one, picking up money in a hat. It was like,said another, baling it up in a bucket. There seemed to be moneyeverywhere--money for all. Peers and clergymen, shop-keepers andmaiden ladies, servants even, speculated; while those who knewsomething of the market, or who could allot shares in new ventures,were courted and flattered, drawn into corners and consulted by troopsof friends.
All this came to its height at the end of April, and Arthur, sanguineand eager, laden with the latest news from Lombard Street, returned toAldersbury to revel in it. He trod the Cop and the High Street as ifhe walked on air. He moved amid the excitement like a young god. Hisnod was confidence, his smile a promise. A few months before he haddoubted. He had viewed the rising current of speculation from without,and had had his misgivings. Now the stream had caught him, and if heever reflected that there might be rocks ahead, he flattered himselfthat he would be among the first to take the alarm.
The confidence which he owed to youth, the banker drew from a past ofunvarying success. But the elder man did have his moments of mistrust.There were hours when he saw hazards in front, and the days on whichhe did not call for the Note Issues were few. But even he found iteasier to go with the current, and once or twice, so high was hisopinion of Arthur's abilities, he let himself be persuaded by him.Then the mere bustle was exhilarating. The door of the bank that neverrested, the crowded counter, the incense of the streets, the whisperswhere he passed, all had their intoxicating effect. The power to put ahundred pounds into a man's pocket--who can abstain from, who is notflattered by, the use of this, who can at all times close his mouth?And often one thing leads to another, and advice is the prelude to aloan.
It was above all when the railroad scheme was to the fore that thebanker realized his importance. It was his, he had made it, and it wason its behalf that he was disposed to put his hand out farthest. TheBoard, upon Sir Charles's proposal--the fruit of a hint dropped byOvington--had fixed the fourth market-day in April for the opening ofthe subscription list. Though the season was late, the farmers wouldbe more or less at liberty; and as it happened the day turned out tobe one of the few fine days of that spring. The sun, rarely seen oflate, shone, the public curiosity was tickled, the town was full, menin the streets quoted the tea-kettle and explained the powers ofsteam; and Arthur, as he forged his way through the good-tempered,white-coated throng, felt to the full his importance.
Near the door of the bank he met Purslow, and the draper seized hisarm. "One moment, sir, excuse me," he whispered. "I've a little more Ican spare at a pinch. What do you advise, Mr. Bourdillon?"
Arthur knew that it was not in his province to advise, and he shookhis head. "You must ask Mr. Ovington," he said.
"And he that busy that he'll snap my nose off! And you're just fromLondon. Come, Mr. Bourdillon, just for two or three hundred pounds. Agood 'un! A real good 'un! I know you know one!"
Arthur gave way. The man's wheedling tone, the sense of power, theability to confer a favor were too much for him. He named the AntwerpNavigation Company. "But don't stop in too long," he added. And hesnatched himself away, and hurried on, and many were those who foundhis frank eager face irresistible.
As he ploughed his way through the crowd, his head on a level with thetallest, he seemed to be success itself. His careless greeting meteverywhere a cheery answer, and more than one threw after him, "Theregoes the old Squire's nevvy! See him? He's a clever 'un if ever therewas one!" They gave him credit for knowing mysteries dark to them, yetwithal they owned a link with him. He too belonged to the land. A linkwith him and some pride in him.
In the parlor where the Board met he had something of the same effect.Sir Charles and Acherley had taken their seats and were talking ofcounty matters, their backs turned on their fellows. Wolley stoodbefore the fire, glowering at them and resenting his exclusion.Grounds sat meekly on a chair within the door. But Arthur's appearancechanged all. He had a word or a smile for each. He set Grounds at hisease, he had a joke for Sir Charles and Acherley, he joined Wolleybefore the fire. Ovington, who had left the room for a moment, notedthe change, and his heart warmed to the Secretary. "He will do," hetold himself, as he turned to the business of the meeting.
"Come, Mr. Wolley, come, Mr. Grounds," he said, "pull up your chairs,if you please. It has struck twelve and the bank should be open toreceive applications at half-past. I conveyed your invitation,gentlemen, to Mr. Purslow two days ago, and I am happy to tell youthat he takes two hundred shares, so that over one-third of thecapital will be subscribed before we go to the public. I suppose,gentlemen, you would wish him to take his seat at once?"
Sir Charles and Acherley nodded, Wolley looked sullen but saidnothing, Grounds submitted. Neither he nor Wolley was over-pleased atsharing with another the honor of sitting with the gentry. But it hadto be done. "Bring him in, Bourdillon," Ovington said.
Purslow, who was in waiting, slid into the room and took his seat,between pride and humility. "I have reason to believe, gentlemen,"Ovington continued, "that the capital will be subscribed withintwenty-four hours. It is for you to say how long the list shall remainopen."
"Not too long," said Sir Charles, sapiently.
"Shall I say forty-eight hours? Agreed, gentlemen? Very good. Then anotice to that effect shall be posted outside the bank at once. Willyou see to that, Bourdillon?"
"And what of Mr. Griffin?" Wolley blurted out the question beforeOvington could restrain him. The clothier was anxious to show Purslowthat he was at home in his company.
"To be sure," Ovington answered smoothly. "That is the only point,gentlemen, in which my expectations have not been borne out. Theinterview between Mr. Griffin and myself was disappointing, but Ihoped to be able to tell you to-day that we were a little moreforward. Mr. Wolley, however, has h
anded me a letter which he hasreceived from Garth, and it is certainly----"
"A d----d unpleasant letter," Wolley struck in. "The old Squire don'tmince matters." He had predicted that his landlord would not come in,and he was pleased to see his opinion confirmed. "He says I'd betterbe careful, for if I and my fine railroad come to grief I need notlook to him for time. By the Lord," with unction, "I know that,railroad or no railroad! He'd put me out as soon as look at me!"
Sir Charles shuffled his papers uncomfortably. To hear a man likeWolley discuss his landlord shocked him--he felt it a kind of treasonto listen to such talk. He feared--he feared more than ever--that thecaustic old Squire was thinking him a fool for mixing himself up withthis business. Good Heavens, if, after all, it ended in disaster!
Acherley took it differently. He cared nothing for Griffin's opinion;he was in money difficulties and had passed far beyond that. Helaughed. "Put you out? I'll swear he would! There's no fool like anold fool! But he won't have the chance."
"No, I think not," Ovington said blandly. "But his attitude presentsdifficulties, and I am sure that our Chairman will agree with me thatif we can meet his views, it will be worth some sacrifice."
"Can't Arthur get round him?" Acherley suggested.
"No," Arthur replied, smiling. "Perhaps if you----"
"Will you see him, Mr. Acherley?"
"Oh, I'll see him!" carelessly. "I don't say I shall persuade him."
"Still, we shall have done what we can to meet his views," thebanker replied. "If we fail we must fall back--on my part mostreluctantly--on the compulsory clauses. But that is looking ahead, andwe need not consider it at present. I don't think that there isanything else? It is close on the half-hour. Will you see, Bourdillon,if all is ready in the bank?"
Arthur went out, leaving the door ajar. There came through the openinga murmur of voices and the noise of shuffling feet. Ovington turnedover the papers before him. "In the event of the subscriptionsexceeding the sum required, what day will suit you to allot? Thursday,Sir Charles?"
"Friday would suit me better."
"Friday be it then, if Mr. Acherley--good. On Friday at noon,gentlemen. Yes, Bourdillon?"
Arthur did not sit down. He was smiling. "It's something of a sight,"he said. "By Jove it is! I think you ought to see it."
Ovington nodded, and they rose, some merely curious, others eager toshow themselves in their new role of dignity. Arthur opened the doorand stood aside. Beyond the door the cashier's desk with its greencurtains formed a screen which masked their presence. Ovingtonseparated the curtains, and Sir Charles and Acherley peeped betweenthem. The others looked round the desk.
The space devoted to the public was full. It hummed with low voices,but above the hum sharp sentences from time to time rang out. "Here,don't push! It's struck, Mr. Rodd! Hand 'em out!" Then, louder thanthese, a lusty voice bawled, "Here, get out o' my road! I want moneyfor a cheque, man!"
The two clerks were at the counter, with piles of application formsbefore them and their eyes on the clock. Clement and Rodd stood in thebackground. The impassive attitude of the four contrasted strikinglywith the scene beyond the counter, where eighteen or twenty personselbowed and pushed one another, their flushed faces eloquent of thespirit of greed. For it had got about that there was easy money andmuch money to be made out of the Railroad shares--to be made inparticular by those who were first in the field. Some looked to makethe money by a sale at a premium, others foresaw a profit but hardlyknew how it was to come, more had heard of men who had suddenly grownrich, and fancied that this was their chance. They had but to sign aform and pay an instalment, and profit would flow in, they did notcare whence. They were certain, indeed, but of one thing, that therewas gain in it; and with every moment their number grew, for withevery moment a newcomer forced his way, smiling, into the bank.Meantime the crowd gave good-humored vent to their impatience. "Let'shave 'em! Hand 'em out!" they murmured. What if there were not enoughto go round?
The man with the cheque, hopelessly wedged in, protested. "There,someone hand it on," he cried at last. "And pass me out the money,d--n you! And let me get out of this."
The slip was passed from hand to hand, and "How'll you have it, Mr.Boumphry?" Rodd asked.
"In shares!" cried a wit.
"Notes and a pound in silver," gasped Boumphry, who thought the worldhad gone mad. "And dunno get on my back, man!" to one behind him. "I'mnot a bullock! Here, how'm I to count it when I canna get----"
"A form!" cried a second wit. "Neither can we, farmer! Come, out with'em, gentlemen. Hullo, Mr. Purslow! That you? Ha' you turned banker?"
The draper, who had showed himself over-confidently, fell back purplewith blushes. "Certainly an odd sight," said the banker quietly. "Itpromises well, I think, Sir Charles."
"Hanged well!" said Acherley.
Sir Charles acquiesced. "Er, I think so," he said. "I certainly thinkso." But he felt himself a little out of place.
The minute hand touched the half-hour, and the clerks began todistribute the papers. After watching the scene for a moment the Boardseparated, its members passing out modestly through the house door.They parted on the pavement, even Sir Charles unbending a little andthe saturnine Acherley chuckling to himself as visions of fools andfat premiums floated before him. It was a vision which they all sharedin their different ways.
Arthur was about to join the workers in the bank when Ovingtonbeckoned him into the dining-room. "You can be spared for a moment,"he said. "Come in here. I want to speak to you." He closed the door."I've been considering the matter I discussed with you some time ago,lad, and I think that the time has come when it should be settled. Butyou've said nothing about it and I've been wondering if anything waswrong. If so, you had better tell me."
"Well, sir----"
The banker was shrewd. "Is it the money that is the trouble?"
The moment that Arthur had been dreading was come, and he bracedhimself to meet it. "I'm afraid that there has been some difficulty,"he said, "but I think now----"
"Have you given your uncle notice?"
Arthur hesitated. If he avowed that they had not given his unclenotice, how weak, how inept he would appear in the other's eyes! Awave of exasperation shook him, as he saw the strait into which hismother's obstinacy was forcing him. The opportunity which he valued sohighly, the opening on which he had staked so much--was he to forfeitthem through her folly? No, a hundred times, no! He would not let herruin him, and, "Yes, we have given it," he said, "but very late, I'mafraid. My mother had her doubts and I had to overcome them. I'msorry, sir, that there has been this delay."
"But the notice has been given now?"
"Yes."
"Then in three months, as I understand----"
"The money will be ready, sir." He spoke stoutly; the die was castnow, and he must go through with it. After all it was not his fault,but his mother's; and for the rest, if the notice was not alreadygiven it should be this very day. "It will be ready in three months,but not earlier, I am afraid."
Ovington reflected. "Well," he said, "that must do. And we won't wait.We will sign the agreement now and it shall take effect from nextMonday, the payment to be made within three months. Go through thearticles"--he opened his desk and took a paper from it and gave it toArthur--"and come in with one of the clerks at five o'clock and wewill complete it."
Arthur hardly knew what to Bay. "It's uncommonly kind of you, sir!" hestammered. "You may be sure I shall do my best to repay yourkindness."
"Well, I like you," the banker rejoined. "And, of course, I see my ownadvantage in it. So that is settled."
Arthur went out taking the paper with him, but in the passage hepaused, his face gloomy. After all it was not too late. He could goback and tell Ovington that his mother--but no, he could not risk thebanker's good opinion. His mother must do it. She must do it. He wasnot going to see the chance of a lifetime wasted--for a silly scruple.
He moved at last, and as he went into the bank he jostled two personswho
, sheltered by the cashier's desk, were watching, as the Board hadwatched a few minutes before, the scene of excitement which the bankpresented. The one was Betty, the other was Rodd, the cashier. It hadoccurred to Rodd that the girl would like to view a thing so unusual,and he had slipped out and fetched her. They faced about, startled bythe contact. "Oh, it's you!" said Betty.
"Yes," drily. "What are you doing here, Betty?"
"I came to see the Lottery drawn," she retorted, making a face at him."Mr. Rodd fetched me. No one else remembered me."
"Well, I should have thought that he--ain't you wanted, Rodd?" Therewas a new tone in Arthur's voice. "Mr. Clement seems to have his handsfull."
Rodd's face reddened under the rebuke. For a moment he seemed about toanswer, then he thought better of it. He left them and went to thecounter.
"And what would you have thought?" Betty asked pertly, reverting tothe sentence that he had not finished.
"Only that Rodd might be better employed--at his work. This is justthe job he is fit for, giving out forms."
"And Clement, too, I suppose? It is his job, too?"
"When he's here to do it," with a faint sneer. "That is not too often,Betty."
"Well, more often of late, anyway. Do you know what Mr. Rodd says?"
"No."
"He says that he has seen just such a crowd as this in a bank before.At Manchester seventeen years ago, when he was a boy. There was a runon the bank in which his father worked, and people fought for placesas they are fighting to-day. He does not seem to think it--lucky."
"What else does he think?" Arthur retorted with contempt. "What otherrubbish? He'd better mind his own business and do his work. He oughtto know more than to say such things to you or to anyone."
Betty stared. "Dear me," she replied, "we are high and mighty to-day!Hoity toity!" And turning her shoulder on him, she became absorbed inthe scene before her.
But that evening she was more than usually grave, and when her father,pouring out his fourth and last glass of port--for he was anabstemious man--told her that the partnership articles had been signedthat afternoon, she nodded. "Yes, I knew," she said sagely.
"How, Betty? I didn't tell you. I have told no one. Did Arthur?"
"No, father, not in so many words. But I guessed it." And during therest of the evening she was unusually pensive.