Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
to a clandestine meeting. And
you, Richard - you possess a soul too noble, and too good, to urge me to do
that which would be wrong. The woman who has been a disobedient daughter, may
be a disobedient wife; and much as I love you, Richard - much as I dote
upon every word that falls from your lips - much as I confide in your own
affection for me, I cannot - I dare not - will not diminish myself in my own
opinion, nor stand the chance of incurring a suspicion of levity in yours, by a
course which is contrary to filial duty. No, Richard - do not ask me to meet
you again. Something tells me that all will yet be well: we are young - we can
hope;- and God - that God in whom we both trust - will not forget
us!"
"Now, Isabella - now," exclaimed Richard, "I
comprehend all that is great and noble in your disposition. Yes - it shall be
as you say, my ever dear Isabella ; and the mental contemplation of your virtue
will teach me to appreciate the love of such a heart as yours."
"We must now separate, dear Richard," said
Isabella: "I have already remained too long away from home! But one word
ere you depart:- that miscreant who made so fearful an accusation against you
on the fatal night when you left my father's dwelling —"
"He is no more, Isabella," answered Markham:
"at least I have every reason to believe that when the police, instructed
by me, discovered his dwelling, three months ago, the villain terminated his
existence in a manner that corresponded well with the whole tenor of his life.
The den of infamy which he inhabited, was blown up with gunpowder, the moment
after the officers of justice entered it; and there can be no doubt that he,
together with one of his accomplices, perished in the ruin that was produced by
his own hand. Several constables met their death at the same time; and,
according to information gathered from the neighbours, an old woman - believed
to be the miscreant's mother - was also in the house at the time of the
explosion."
"How fearful are the ways of crime!" said
Isabella, with a shudder. "May God grant that in future you will have no
enemies to cross your path! And now, farewell, Richard - farewell. We shall
meet again soon - Providence will not desert us!"
Richard pressed ha lips to those of that charming girl, and
bade her adieu.
She tore herself - how reluctantly! - away from him, and
hastily retraced her steps towards the mansion.
But ere she passed the angle of the grove, she turned and
waved her handkerchief to her lover.
The young man kissed his hand fondly to the idol of his
heart: and in another moment Isabella was out of sight.
That one half-hour of bliss, which Richard had thus passed
with the Italian lady, was a reward for weeks - months - years of anguish and
of sorrow!
THE CRISIS
DURING the ensuing three months nothing occurred worthy of record,
in connexion with any character that has figured upon the stage of our
narrative. The month of July arrived: and found Tomlinson, the banker, more
deeply involved in difficulties than ever. The result was that the
consultations between him and old Michael, the cashier, were of very frequent
occurrence; and the latter grew more morose, more dirty, and more addicted to
snuff in proportion as the affairs of the bank became the more desperate.
One morning, in the first week of July, Tomlinson arrived at
the banking-house half an hour earlier than usual. He had taken home the
cash-books with him on the preceding evening, for the purpose of ascertaining
his true position; and he brought them back again in the morning before any of
the clerks had arrived, with the exception of old Michael Martin, who was
already waiting for him when he entered the parlour.
"Well, Michael, my old friend," said Tomlinson, on
whose countenance the marks of care and anxiety were now too visibly traced,
" I am afraid that the establishment cannot possibly exist many days
longer. Mr. Greenwood will be here presently: and he is my only hope."
"Hope indeed!" growled Martin, plunging his
fore-finger and thumb into his capacious snuff-box: "how he left you to
shift for yourself after you gave that security to Count Alteroni."
"Which security fell due a few days ago; and a note
from the count, received yesterday, tells me that he shall call upon me next
Saturday at twelve o'clock for the amount."
"He is very welcome to call - and so are a good many
others," said Michael; "but they will go back as empty as they
came."
"Good God! can nothing be done?" exclaimed
Tomlinson, with an expression of blank despair upon his countenance. "Say,
Michael - is there any resource? do you know of any plan? can you suggest any
method —"
"Not one. You must go to the Bankruptcy Court, and I
must go to the workhouse; " - and the old man took a huge pinch of snuff.
"To the workhouse!" cried Tomlinson; "no-
impossible! Do not say that, my good old friend."
"I do say it, though;" - and two tears rolled
slowly down the cashier's cheeks.
This was the first time that Tomlinson had eves beheld any
outward and visible sign of emotion on the part of his faithful clerk.
Tomlinson was not naturally a bad man - at all events, not a
bad-hearted man: the cashier had served him with a fidelity rarely equalled;
and that announcement of a workhouse-doom in connexion with the old man touched
him to the soul.
"Michael," he said, taking the cashier's hand,
"you do not mean to tell me that you are totally without resources for
yourself? Your salary has been six hundred a year for a long time; and surely
you must have saved something out of that - you, win have no family
encumbrances of any kind, and whose expenses are so very limited."
The old man slowly opened one of the cash-books, pointed to
the page at the head of which stood his own name, ran his finger down a column
of payments made to himself, and stopping at the total, said, "That amount
runs over nine years; and the amount is £540."
"What - is it possible?" cried Tomlinson:
"you have only paid yourself £60 a year."
"And that was too much for the state of the bank,"
said the cashier drily, taking a pinch of snuff at the same time.
"Now of all things which combine to make me wretched at
this moment," said Tomlinson, "your position is the most
afflicting."
"Don't think of me: I'm not worth it," returned
Michael. "What will you do yourself ?"
"What shall we both
do?" cried the banker "But so long as I have a crust, you shall not
want."
"Well - well, there's enough of that," almost
growled the cashier, though his furrowed cheeks were still moist with tears.
"I am an old man, and my wants are few. A bit of bread and a pinch of
snuff are enough for me. But you - you, who have always lived like a gentlemen
- how can you stand it ?"
"And is it literally come to this? Is there no
resource?"
"Do you see any? I do not. Will your father help
you?"
"Not with another sixpence."
"Will Greenwood?"
"Here he comes to answer for himself."
Mr Greenwood entered the parlour, and old Michael, taking
his cash-books under his arm, withdrew.
The member of parliament threw himself into a chair, and
observed what a beautiful morning it was.
Tomlinson made a movement of impatience, and yet dared not
ask the question that trembled upon his tongue, and the answer to which would
decide his fate.
"Yes," continued Greenwood, "it is a lovely
morning: all nature seems enlivened, and every body is inspired with a
congenial feeling."
"What nonsense is this, Greenwood?" cried the
banker. "Do you come to taunt a man upon the brink of ruin, with the
happiness of others?"
"Oh! I beg your pardon, my dear Tomlinson. I really was
waiting for you to question me upon matters of business; and in the mean time
made use of some observations of common courtesy and politeness."
"The fact is, that since you obtained a seat in
Parliament your manners have altogether changed. But please to put me out of
suspense at once:- have you considered my proposal?"
"I have - maturely."
"And what is your decision?"
"That I cannot agree to it."
"I thought as much," said Tomlinson. "Well -
now I have no alternative. I must close the bank and appear in the
Gazette."
"And when you are cleared by a certificate, I will
enable you to set up in business again."
"Upon that promise, Mr. Greenwood," said Tomlinson
severely, "I place no reliance - no reliance whatever."
"Just as you please, returned Greenwood coolly."
"How can I?" cried the banker. "When I gave
my security for you to Count Alttroni, and relieved you of a burden of fifteen
thousand pounds, you faithfully promised to assist me. Did you keep your
word?"
"Did I not forgive you a debt which would have ruined
you that very day ?"
"True. But you were an immense gainer! You obtained
twelve thousand pounds by the transaction. However, I shall be compelled to
give an account of the transaction to the Bankruptcy Court."
"An avowal which will do you no good, and will only
expose me," observed Greenwood, alarmed by this declaration.
"And why should I have any regard for you?"
demanded Tomlinson, with that moroseness which men in his desperate condition
are so frequently known to manifest towards intriguers more fortunate than
themselves.
"I will tell you why you should have some regard for
me," answered Greenwood. "In the first place, the mere fact of your
having so long carried on this bank when in a helpless state of insolvency,
thereby increasing your liabilities in a desperate manner, and receiving
deposits the eventual repayment of which each day became less likely, will so
irritate the mass of your creditors that you will never obtain your certificate.
Secondly, unless you have a friendly trade-assignee, you will obtain no
allowance out of the wrecks of the property, and you will find it difficult,
considering the state your books must be in, to make up a balance sheet that
would stand the remotest chance of passing."
"True - true," said Tomlinson: "my condition
is really desperate."
"Not so desperate as you imagine," resumed
Greenwood: "I will be your friend - I will save you, if you only follow my
counsel."
"Ah! my good friend," cried the despairing man,
"forgive me the expressions which fell from my lips just now."
"Do not mention that circumstance; I make every
allowance for the irritated state of your feelings. In the first place, then,
you can make me a creditor to the amount of thirty thousand pounds, and two or
three of my friends creditors to an equal amount in the aggregate. We shall be
enabled to give you your certificate, together with those persons who will not
bear you animosity or whom we can talk over. In the second place, I can apply
to be appointed trade-assignee ; and I flatter myself-considering my position,
representing as I do a free, enlightened, and independent constituency - my
nomination will not be opposed."
"If you could only contrive that," said Tomlinson.
"I might pass my second examination in even a creditable manner; and
afterwards —"
"And afterwards open as a stock-broker," added
Greenwood. "That it the invariable resource of all bankrupt bankers; and
what is more extraordinary, they obtain confidence and succeed too. Tradesmen
who are unfortunate, always take to the wine, coal, or discount business, each
of which can be commenced without a shilling; but your aim must be a broker's
profession. It is so genteel - so comfortable; a hole of an office in the City,
and a villa at Clapham or Kensington;- a mutton-chop at the dining-rooms in
Hercules Passage at one, and turtle and venison at home at six. Ah! the life of
a stock-broker is a very pleasant one!"
"I am sure the life of an insolvent banker is
not," said Tomlinson, again rendered rather impatient by Mr. Greenwood's
discursiveness.
"A thousand pounds will set you up comfortably
again," continues Greenwood ; "and that you shall have. Only follow
my advice - and I will be the making of you. In the meantime, you had better
not struggle against fortune any longer in this position. What is to-day?
Thursday. Very well. I will strike a docket against you this very afternoon;
the flat can be opened to-morrow morning; and tomorrow evening you can be in
the 'Gazette.' Is that agreed?"
"Agreed!" exclaimed Tomlinson bitterly; "I
have no resource left but that! Yes - it shall be as you say. But for God's
sake, talk not in so cold and heartless a manner of the mode of
procedure."
"Cold and heartless, my dear fellow!" repeated
Greenwood; "I speak of your affairs just as I would speak of my own. Keep
up your spirits, and come and dine with me this evening. You shall then give me
the necessary securities to enable me to prove as your creditor for the amount
agreed upon. Meantime give me a bill for a thousand or so, ante-dated about
four months, and due a month ago, so that I
may strike the docket upon it
presently. Then, as you are not to know that these proceedings are in operation
against you, you must keep the bank open until the messenger comes down
to-morrow afternoon from the Bankruptcy Court the moment the
fiat
is lawfully proclaimed before the
Commissioner. Of course you will pretend to be struck with surprise, and
instantly proceed to the Court to obtain your protection. Is that agreed
upon?"
"I am in your hands," said Tomlinson. "Your
advice shall now guide me altogether. But when I think upon the ruin and
desolation my failure will cause - the widows and the orphans whom it will
reduce to beggary - the poor tradesmen whom it will Involve in inextricable
difficulties, - it is enough to drive me mad."
"Pooh! pooh! my good fellow," said Greenwood;
"these little things happen every day. As for the widows and the orphans,
allow me to remind you that the wisdom and goodness of the legislative bodies -
to one of which I have the honour to belong as the representative of an
intelligent and independent constituency - have established asylums for the
reception of persons so reduced, and where they enjoy every comfort, upon the
trifling condition of doing a little needle-work, or breaking a few
stones."
"Greenwood - Greenwood, do not speak in this heartless
manner! Oh! the idea that my failure will render your words literally true -
that numbers will be thereby reduced to the workhouse of which you speak, - it
is this, it is this that overwhelms me!"
"You are very silly to give way to your feelings in
this manner. Why do you know (and I may as well mention it by way of
consolation in respect to the widows and orphans whose fate you deplore) - that
the workhouses are conducted at present upon the most liberal principle
possible? Do you know that the female inmates are handsomely remunerated for
the shirts which they make - that they can make a shirt in a day and a half,
and that they receive one farthing for each? That is their pocket-money - their
little perquisites, my dear fellow ;- so you perceive that the workhouse is not
such a bad place after all."
Tomlinson was pacing the bank-parlour in an abstracted mood,
and paid not the slightest attention to this tirade from the lips of the
newly-fledged politician.
Mr. Greenwood saw that his observations were unheeded, and
accordingly rose to take his departure. Tomlinson gave him a bill for a
thousand pounds to enable him to strike a docket against him; and Mr. Greenwood
then withdrew.
The moment he was gone, old Michael entered the room; and
Tomlinson communicated to him all that had passed. The cashier made no reply,
but took the largest pinch of snuff he had ever yet abstracted from his box or
conveyed to his nose.
He had not yet broken silence, when the door opened, and Mr.
Greenwood returned. Michael was about to withdraw; but the capitalist stopped
him, saying, " Stay - three heads are better than two. I was just entering
my cabriolet, when an idea - a brilliant idea struck me."
"An idea!" exclaimed Tomlinson: "what - to
save me?"
"To render your failure legitimate - to make you appear
an honourable, but an unfortunate man - to avert all blame from you —"
"Ah! if that could be done," interrupted the
banker, his countenance animated with hope, "I might yet be spared the
execrations of the widow and the orphan!"
"Ever your widows and orphans, my dear fellow," said
Greenwood: "you are really quite sickening."
"Well - well - the idea?"
"Nothing is more simple," continued Greenwood.
"You leave the bank this afternoon at five, as usual: Michael sees all
safe, and takes his departure also. You leave fifty thousand pounds in specie
and notes in the strong box, together with securities of foreign houses at
Leipzig, Vienna, Turin, New York, Rio Janeiro, Calcutta, Sydney —"
"Greenwood, have you come back to mock a
miserable-ruined man?"
"Quite the contrary. Listen! You leave money and
securities to the amount of ninety-two thousand, three hundred, and forty-seven
pounds - or any odd sum, to look well - safe in the strong box, together with
the cash-books. You and Michael come in the morning - or perhaps it would be
better to allow one of the clerks to arrive first,- and, behold! the bank has
been broken into during the night - the money, the securities, and the books
are all gone - and the bank stops as a natural consequence!"
"Impossible - impossible!" exclaimed Tomlinson:
"it could never be done! I could not proclaim such a fraud without a blush
that would betray me. What say you, Michael ?"
The old cashier answered only with a grunt, and took snuff
as it were by handfuls.
"What say you, Michael ?" repeated Tomlinson,
impatiently.
"I say that it can be done - ought to be done - and
must be done," replied the old man. "I would sooner die than see the
honour of the house lost - and that will save it."
"Well said, Michael," exclaimed Greenwood.
"Now, Tomlinson, your decision?"
"It is a fearful alternative - and yet- and yet,
it is preferable to infamy - disgrace —"
"Then you agree?"
"And if I agree - where are the means of executing the
scheme? Who will rob - or affect to rob the premises?"
"That must be arranged by yourselves. The back of this
house looks upon a court. The thieves can have effected their entrance through
these parlour windows: the parlour doors will be found forced; the safe will
have been broken open. Nothing can be more simple."
"Yes - I know how to manage it all," exclaimed old
Martin, who had been ruminating more seriously than ever for the last few
moments. "Mr. Greenwood, you have saved the honour of the bank, which I
love as if it was my own child ;" - and the cashier wrung the hand of the
member of Parliament with a warmth indicative of an amount of feeling which he
had never been known to demonstrate before.
"Well - I have given you the hint - do you profit by
it," said Greenwood; and with these words he departed.
And as he drove back to the West-End, he said to himself,
"Tomlinson will now be completely in my power, and will never dare confess
the real nature of the transaction relative to Count Alteroni's fifteen
thousand pounds. According to the first arrangement proposed, a bullying
counsel or an astute Commissioner might have wormed out of him the exact truth;
whereas, now - now his lips are silenced on that head for ever!"
The moment Greenwood had left the bank-parlour, old Michael
accosted Tomlinson, and said, "Have you full confidence in me?"
"I have, Michael: but why do you ask me that
question?"