CHAPTER XII.

  A CORNER IN DIAMONDS.

  John Girdlestone propounded his intention with such dignity and emphasisthat he evidently expected the announcement to come as a surprise uponhis son. If so, he was not disappointed, for the young man staredopen-eyed.

  "A corner in diamonds!" he repeated. "How will you do that?"

  "You know what a corner is," his father explained. "If you buy up allthe cotton, say, or sugar in the market, so as to have the whole of itin your own hands, and to be able to put your own price on it in sellingit again--that is called making a corner in sugar or cotton. I intendto make a corner in diamonds."

  "Of course, I know what a corner is," Ezra said impatiently. "But howon earth are you going to buy all the diamonds in? You would want thecapital of a Rothschild?"

  "Not so much as you think, my boy, for there are not any great amount ofdiamonds in the market at any one time. The yield of the South Africanfields regulates the price. I have had this idea in my head for sometime, and have studied the details. Of course, I should not attempt tobuy in all the diamonds that are in the market. A small portion of themwould yield profit enough to float the firm off again."

  "But if you have only a part of the supply in your hands, how are you toregulate the market value? You must come down to the prices at whichother holders are selling."

  "Ha! Ha! Very good! very good!" the old merchant said, shaking his headgood-humouredly. "But you don't quite see my plan yet. You have notaltogether grasped it. Allow me to explain it to you."

  His son lay back upon the sofa with a look of resignation upon his face.Girdlestone continued to stand upon the hearth-rug and spoke very slowlyand deliberately, as though giving vent to thoughts which had been longand carefully considered.

  "You see, Ezra," he said, "diamonds, being a commodity of great value,of which there is never very much in the market at one time, areextremely sensitive to all sorts of influences. The value of themvaries greatly from time to time. A very little thing serves todepreciate their price, and an equally small thing will send it upagain."

  Ezra Girdlestone grunted to show that he followed his father's remarks.

  "I did some business in diamonds myself when I was a younger man, and soI had an opportunity of observing their fluctuations in the market.Now, there is one thing which invariably depreciates the price ofdiamonds. That is the rumour of fresh discoveries of mines in otherparts of the world. The instant such a thing gets wind the value of thestones goes down wonderfully. The discovery of diamonds in CentralIndia not long ago had that effect very markedly, and they have neverrecovered their value since. Do you follow me?"

  An expression of interest had come over Ezra's face, and he nodded toshow that he was listening.

  "Now, supposing," continued the senior partner, with a smile on his thinlips, "that such a report got about. Suppose, too, that we were at thistime, when the market was in a depressed condition, to invest aconsiderable capital in them. If these rumours of an alleged discoveryturned out to be entirely unfounded, of course the value of the stoneswhich we held would go up once more, and we might very well sell out fordouble or treble the sum that we invested. Don't you see the sequenceof events?"

  "There seems to me to be rather too much of the 'suppose' in it,"remarked Ezra. "How do we know that such rumours will get about; and ifthey do, how do we know that they will prove to be unfounded?"

  "How are we to know?" the merchant cried, wriggling his long lank bodywith amusement. "Why, my lad, if we spread the rumours ourselves weshall have pretty good reason to believe that they are unfounded.Eh, Ezra? Ha! ha! You see there are some brains in the old man yet."

  Ezra looked at his father in considerable surprise and some admiration."Why, damn it!" he exclaimed, "it's dishonest. I'm not sure that it'snot actionable."

  "Dishonest! Pooh!" The merchant snapped his fingers. "It's finesse, myboy, commercial finesse. Who's to trace it, I should like to know.I haven't worked out all the details--I want your co-operation overthat--but here's a rough sketch of my plan. We send a man we can dependupon to some distant part of the world--Chimborazo, for example, or theUral Mountains. It doesn't matter where, as long as it is out of theway. On arriving at this place our agent starts a report that he hasdiscovered a diamond mine. We should even go the length, if heconsiders it necessary, of hiding a few rough stones in the earth, whichhe can dig up to give colour to his story. Of course the local presswould be full of this. He might present one of the diamonds to theeditor of the nearest paper. In course of time a pretty coloureddescription of the new diamond fields would find its way to London andthence to the Cape. I'll answer for it that the immediate effect is agreat drop in the price of stones. We should have a second agent at theCape diamond fields, and he would lay our money out by buying in allthat he could while the panic lasted. Then, the original scare havingproved to be all a mistake, the prices naturally go up once more, and weget a long figure for all that we hold. That's what I mean by making 'acorner in diamonds.' There is no room in it for any miscalculation. Itis as certain as a proposition of Euclid, and as easily worked out."

  "It sounds very nice," his son remarked thoughtfully. "I'm not so sureabout its working, though."

  "It must work well. As far as human calculation can go there is nopossibility of failure. Besides, my boy, never lose sight of the factthat we shall be speculating with other people's money. We ourselveshave nothing to lose, absolutely nothing."

  "I am not likely to lose sight of it," said Ezra angrily, his mindcoming back to his grievance.

  "I reckon that we can raise from forty to fifty thousand pounds withoutmuch difficulty. My name is, as you know, as good as that of any firmin the City. For nearly forty years it has been above stain orsuspicion. If we carry on our plans at once, and lay this money outjudiciously, all may come right."

  "It's Hobson's choice," the young man remarked. "We must try some boldstroke of the sort. Have you chosen the right sort of men for agents?You should have men of some standing to set such reports going.They would have more weight then."

  John Girdlestone shook his head despondingly. "How am I to get a man ofany standing to do such a piece of business?" he said.

  "Nothing easier," answered Ezra, with a cynical laugh. "I could pickout a score of impecunious fellows from the clubs who would be only tooglad to earn a hundred or two in any way you can mention. All theirtalk about honour and so forth is very pretty and edifying, but it's notmeant for every day use. Of course we should have to pay him."

  "Them, you mean?"

  "No, we should only want one man."

  "How about our purchaser at the diamond fields?"

  "You don't mean to say," Ezra said roughly, "that you would be so absurdas to trust any man with our money. Why, I wouldn't let the Archbishopof Canterbury out of my sight with forty thousand pounds of mine. No, Ishall go myself to the diamond fields--that is, if I can trust you herealone."

  "That is unkind, Ezra," said his father. "Your idea is an excellentone. I should have proposed it myself but for the discomforts andhardships of such a journey."

  "There's no use doing things by halves," the young man remarked. "As toour other agent, I have the very man--Major Tobias Clutterbuck. He is ashrewd, clever fellow, and he's always hard up. Last week he wanted toborrow a tenner from me. The job would be a godsend to him, and hissocial rank would be a great help to our plan. I'll answer for hisjumping at the idea."

  "Sound him on the subject, then."

  "I will."

  "I am glad," said the old merchant, "that you and I have had thisconversation, Ezra. The fact of my having speculated without yourknowledge, and deceived you by a false ledger, has often weighed heavilyupon my conscience, I assure you. It is a relief to me to have told youall."

  "Drop the subject, then," Ezra said curtly. "I must put up with it, forI have no redress. The thing is done and nothing can undo it; but Iconsider that you
have willfully wasted the money."

  "Believe me, I have tried to act for the best. The good name of ourfirm is everything to me. I have spent my whole life in building it up,and if the day should come when it must go, I trust that I may have gonemyself. There is nothing which I would not do to preserve it."

  "I see they want our premiums," Ezra said, glancing at the open letterupon the table. "How is it that none of those ships go down?That would give us help."

  "Hush! hush!" John Girdlestone cried imploringly. "Speak in a whisperwhen you talk of such things."

  "I can't understand you," said Ezra petulantly. "You persistentlyover-insure your ships, year after year. Look at the _Leopard_; it isput at more than twice what she was worth as new. And the _BlackEagle_, I dare say, is about the same. Yet you never have an accidentwith them, while your two new uninsured clippers run each other down."

  "Well, what more can I do?" replied the merchant "They are thoroughlyrotten. I have done nothing for them for years. Sooner or later theymust go. I cannot do any more."

  "I'd make 'em go down quick enough," muttered Ezra, with an oath."Why don't you make old Miggs bore a hole in them, or put a light to abarrel of paraffin? Bless your soul! the thing's done every day.What's the use of being milk-and-watery about it?"

  "No, no, Ezra!" cried his father. "Not that--not that. It's one thingletting matters take their course, and it is another thing givingpositive orders to scuttle a ship. Besides, it would put us in Miggs'power. It would be too dangerous."

  "Please yourself," said Ezra, with a sneer. "You've got us into themess and you must take us out again. If the worst comes to the worstI'll tell you what I'll do. I'll marry Kate Harston, wash my hands ofthe firm, leave you to settle matters with the creditors, and retirewith the forty thousand pounds;" with which threat the junior partnertook up his hat and swaggered out of the office.

  After his departure, John Girdlestone spent an hour in anxious thought,arranging the details of the scheme which he had just submitted to hisson. As he sat, his eye chanced to fall upon the two letters lying onhis desk, and it struck him that they had better be attended to. It didnot suit his plans to fall back upon his credit just yet. It has beenalready shown that he was a man of ready resource. He rang the bell andsummoned his senior clerk.

  "Good morning, John," he said affably.

  "Good morning, Mr. Girdlestone, good morning, sir," said wizened littleJohn Gilray, rubbing his thin yellow hands together, as a sign of hisgratification.

  "I hear, John, that you have come into a legacy lately," Mr. Girdlestonesaid.

  "Yes, sir. Fifteen hundred pounds, sir. Less legacy duty andincidental expenses, fourteen hundred and twenty-eight six andfourpence. My wife's brother Andrew left it, sir, and a very handsomelegacy too."

  John Girdlestone smiled with the indulgent smile of one to whom such asum was absolutely nothing.

  "What have you done with the money, then, John?" he asked carelessly.

  "Banked it, sir, in the United Metropolitan."

  "In the United Metropolitan, John? Let me see. Their present rate ofinterest is three and a half?"

  "Three, sir," said John.

  "Three! Dear me, John, that is poor interest, very poor indeed. It ismost fortunate that I made these inquiries. I was on the point ofdrawing fourteen hundred pounds from one of my correspondents as atemporary convenience. For this I should pay him five per cent. I haveno objection, John, as you are an old servant of the firm, to giving youthe preference in this matter. I cannot take more than fourteenhundred--but I shall be happy to accommodate you up to that sum at therate named."

  John Gilray was overwhelmed by this thoughtful and considerate act. "Itis really too generous and kind, sir," he said. "I don't know how tothank you."

  "Don't mention it, John," the senior partner said grandly. "The firm isalways glad to advance the interests of its employees in any reasonablemanner. Have you your cheque-book with you? Fill it up for fourteenhundred. No more, John; I cannot oblige you by taking any more."

  The head clerk having made out his cheque for the amount, and havingsigned his name to it in a cramped little quaint handwriting, whichreminded one of his person, was duly presented with a receipt anddismissed to his counting-house. There he entertained the other clerksby a glowing description of the magnanimity of his employer.

  John Girdlestone took some sheets of blue official paper from a drawer,and his quill pen travelled furiously over them with many a screech andsplutter.

  "Sir," he said to the bank manager, "I enclose fourteen hundred pounds,which represents the loose cash about the office. I shall make a heavydeposit presently. In the meantime, you will, of course, honouranything that may be presented.--Yours truly, JOHN GIRDLESTONE."

  To Lloyd's Insurance Agency he wrote:--"Sir,--Enclosed you will findcheque for 241 pounds seven shillings and sixpence, being amount due aspremium on the _Leopard_, _Black Eagle_, and _Maid of Athens_. Shouldhave forwarded cheque before, but with so many things of importance tolook after these trifles are liable to be overlooked."

  These two epistles having been sealed, addressed, and despatched, theelder Girdlestone began to feel somewhat more easy in his mind, and todevote himself once more to the innocent amusement of planning how acorner might best be created in diamonds.