But all that aside--you are the man who was civil to me at the start, when you knew nothing whatever about my scheme, and you are the man who was good to me later on, when I didn't know where to turn for a friendly word.
Very well; here I am! I've made my coup! And I'd be a sweep, wouldn't I? to forget to-day what I was so glad to remember a week ago. But you see, I don't forget! The capital of the Company is 500,000 pounds, all in pound shares.
We offered the public only a fifth of them. The other four hundred thousand shares are mine as vendor--and Ihave ear-marked in my mind one hundred thousand of them to be yours."Lord Plowden's face paled at the significance of these words.
"It is too much--you don't reflect what it is you are saying," he murmured confusedly. "Not a bit of it,"the other reassured him. "Everything that I've said goes."The peer, trembling a little, rose to his feet. "It is a preposterously big reward for the merest act of courtesy,"he insisted. "Of course it takes my breath away for joy--and yet I feel I oughtn't to be consenting to it at all.
And it has its unpleasant side--it buries me under a mountain of obligation. I don't know what to do or what to say.""Well, leave the saying and doing to me, then," replied Thorpe, with a gesture before which the other resumed his seat.
"Just a word more--and then I suppose we'd better be going.
Look at it in this way. Your grandfather was Lord Chancellor of England, and your father was a General in the Crimea. My grandfather kept a small second-hand book-shop, and my father followed him in the business.
In one sense, that puts us ten thousand miles apart.
But in another sense, we'll say that we like each other, and that there are ways in which we can be of immense use to each other, and that brings us close together.
You need money--and here it is for you. I need--what shall I say?--a kind of friendly lead in the matter of establishing myself on the right footing, among the right people--and that's what you can do for me.
Mind--I'd prefer to put it all in quite another way;I'd like to say it was all niceness on your part, all gratitude on mine. But if you want to consider it on a business basis--why there you have it also--perfectly plain and clear."He got up as he finished, and Lord Plowden rose as well.
The two men shook hands in silence.
When the latter spoke, it was to say: "Do you know how to open one of those soda-water bottles? I've tried, but I can never get the trick. I think I should like to have a drink--after this."When they had put down their glasses, and the younger man was getting into his great-coat, Thorpe bestowed the brandy and cigars within a cabinet at the corner of the room, and carefully turned a key upon them.
"If you're going West, let me give you a lift,"said Lord Plowden, hat in hand. "I can set you down wherever you like. Unfortunately I've to go out to dinner, and I must race, as it is, to get dressed."Thorpe shook his head. "No, go along," he bade him.
"I've some odds and ends of things to do on the way.""Then when shall I see you?"--began the other, and halted suddenly with a new thought in his glance. "But what are you doing Saturday?" he asked, in a brisker tone.
"It's a dies non here. Come down with me to-morrow evening, to my place in Kent. We will shoot on Saturday, and drive about on Sunday, if you like--and there we can talk at our leisure. Yes, that is what you must do.
I have a gun for you. Shall we say, then--Charing Cross at 9:55? Or better still, say 5:15, and we will dine at home."The elder man pondered his answer--frowning at the problem before him with visible anxiety. "I'm afraid I'd better not come--it's very good of you all the same.""Nonsense," retorted the other. "My mother will be very glad indeed to see you. There is no one else there--unless, perhaps, my sister has some friend down.
We shall make a purely family party."
Thorpe hesitated for only a further second. "All right.
Charing Cross, 5:15," he said then, with the grave brevity of one who announces a momentous decision.
He stood still, looking into the fire, for a few moments after his companion had gone. Then, going to a closet at the end of the room, he brought forth his coat and hat;something prompted him to hold them up, and scrutinize them under the bright light of the electric globe. He put them on, then, with a smile, half-scornful, half-amused, playing in his beard.
The touch of a button precipitated darkness upon the Board Room.
He made his way out, and downstairs to the street.
It was a rainy, windy October night, sloppy underfoot, dripping overhead. At the corner before him, a cabman, motionless under his unshapely covered hat and glistening rubber cape, sat perched aloft on his seat, apparently asleep.
Thorpe hailed him, with a peremptory tone, and gave the brusque order, "Strand!" as he clambered into the hansom.
