XL
“Unanimity Is the Very Soul of These Things.”
That evening Montague was surprised to receive at the Beargarden a note from Mr.¬ÝMelmotte, which had been brought thither by a messenger from the city‚ÅÝ‚Äîwho had expected to have an immediate answer, as though Montague lived at the club.
“Dear Sir,” said the letter,
If not inconvenient would you call on me in Grosvenor Square tomorrow, Sunday, at half past eleven. If you are going to church, perhaps you will make an appointment in the afternoon; if not, the morning will suit best. I want to have a few words with you in private about the Company. My messenger will wait for answer if you are at the club.
Paul immediately wrote to say that he would call at Grosvenor Square at the hour appointed‚ÅÝ‚Äîabandoning any intentions which he might have had in reference to Sunday morning service. But this was not the only letter he received that evening. On his return to his lodgings he found a note, containing only one line, which Mrs.¬ÝHurtle had found the means of sending to him after her return from Southend. ‚ÄúI am so sorry to have been away. I will expect you all tomorrow. W. H.‚Äù The period of the reprieve was thus curtailed to less than a day.
On the Sunday morning he breakfasted late and then walked up to Grosvenor Square, much pondering what the great man could have to say to him. The great man had declared himself very plainly in the Boardroom‚ÅÝ‚Äîespecially plainly after the Board had risen. Paul had understood that war was declared, and had understood also that he was to fight the battle single-handed, knowing nothing of such strategy as would be required, while his antagonist was a great master of financial tactics. He was prepared to go to the wall in reference to his money, only hoping that in doing so he might save his character and keep the reputation of an honest man. He was quite resolved to be guided altogether by Mr.¬ÝRamsbottom, and intended to ask Mr.¬ÝRamsbottom to draw up for him such a statement as would be fitting for him to publish. But it was manifest now that Mr.¬ÝMelmotte would make some proposition, and it was impossible that he should have Mr.¬ÝRamsbottom at his elbow to help him.
He had been in Melmotte‚Äôs house on the night of the ball, but had contented himself after that with leaving a card. He had heard much of the splendour of the place, but remembered simply the crush and the crowd, and that he had danced there more than once or twice with Hetta Carbury. When he was shown into the hall he was astonished to find that it was not only stripped, but was full of planks, and ladders, and trussels, and mortar. The preparations for the great dinner had been already commenced. Through all this he made his way to the stairs, and was taken up to a small room on the second floor, where the servant told him that Mr.¬ÝMelmotte would come to him. Here he waited a quarter of an hour looking out into the yard at the back. There was not a book in the room, or even a picture with which he could amuse himself. He was beginning to think whether his own personal dignity would not be best consulted by taking his departure, when Melmotte himself, with slippers on his feet and enveloped in a magnificent dressing-gown, bustled into the room. ‚ÄúMy dear sir, I am so sorry. You are a punctual man I see. So am I. A man of business should be punctual. But they ain‚Äôt always. Brehgert‚ÅÝ‚Äîfrom the house of Todd, Brehgert, and Goldsheiner, you know‚ÅÝ‚Äîhas just been with me. We had to settle something about the Moldavian loan. He came a quarter late, and of course he went a quarter late. And how is a man to catch a quarter of an hour? I never could do it.‚Äù Montague assured the great man that the delay was of no consequence. ‚ÄúAnd I am so sorry to ask you into such a place as this. I had Brehgert in my room downstairs, and then the house is so knocked about! We get into a furnished house a little way off in Bruton Street tomorrow. Longestaffe lets me his house for a month till this affair of the dinner is over. By the by, Montague, if you‚Äôd like to come to the dinner, I‚Äôve got a ticket I can let you have. You know how they‚Äôre run after.‚Äù Montague had heard of the dinner, but had perhaps heard as little of it as any man frequenting a club at the west end of London. He did not in the least want to be at the dinner, and certainly did not wish to receive any extraordinary civility from Mr.¬ÝMelmotte‚Äôs hands. But he was very anxious to know why Mr.¬ÝMelmotte should offer it. He excused himself saying that he was not particularly fond of big dinners, and that he did not like standing in the way of other people. ‚ÄúAh, indeed,‚Äù said Melmotte. ‚ÄúThere are ever so many people of title would give anything for a ticket. You‚Äôd be astonished at the persons who have asked. We‚Äôve had to squeeze in a chair on one side for the Master of the Buckhounds, and on another for the Bishop of‚ÅÝ‚Äî; I forget what bishop it is, but we had the two archbishops before. They say he must come because he has something to do with getting up the missionaries for Tibet. But I‚Äôve got the ticket, if you‚Äôll have it.‚Äù This was the ticket which was to have taken in Georgiana Longestaffe as one of the Melmotte family, had not Melmotte perceived that it might be useful to him as a bribe. But Paul would not take the bribe. ‚ÄúYou‚Äôre the only man in London then,‚Äù said Melmotte, somewhat offended. ‚ÄúBut at any rate you‚Äôll come in the evening, and I‚Äôll have one of Madame Melmotte‚Äôs tickets sent to you.‚Äù Paul, not knowing how to escape, said that he would come in the evening. ‚ÄúI am particularly anxious,‚Äù continued he, ‚Äúto be civil to those who are connected with our great Railway, and of course, in this country, your name stands first‚ÅÝ‚Äînext to my own.‚Äù
Then the great man paused, and Paul began to wonder whether it could be possible that he had been sent for to Grosvenor Square on a Sunday morning in order that he might be asked to dine in the same house a fortnight later. But that was impossible. “Have you anything special to say about the Railway?” he asked.
“Well, yes. It is so hard to get things said at the Board. Of course there are some there who do not understand matters.”
“I doubt if there be anyone there who does understand this matter,” said Paul.
Melmotte affected to laugh. “Well, well; I am not prepared to go quite so far as that. My friend Cohenlupe has had great experience in these affairs, and of course you are aware that he is in Parliament. And Lord Alfred sees farther into them than perhaps you give him credit for.”
“He may easily do that.”
‚ÄúWell, well. Perhaps you don‚Äôt know him quite as well as I do.‚Äù The scowl began to appear on Mr.¬ÝMelmotte‚Äôs brow. Hitherto it had been banished as well as he knew how to banish it. ‚ÄúWhat I wanted to say to you was this. We didn‚Äôt quite agree at the last meeting.‚Äù
“No; we did not.”
‚ÄúI was very sorry for it. Unanimity is everything in the direction of such an undertaking as this. With unanimity we can do‚ÅÝ‚Äîeverything.‚Äù Mr.¬ÝMelmotte in the ecstasy of his enthusiasm lifted up both his hands over his head. ‚ÄúWithout unanimity we can do‚ÅÝ‚Äînothing.‚Äù And the two hands fell. ‚ÄúUnanimity should be printed everywhere about a Boardroom. It should, indeed, Mr.¬ÝMontague.‚Äù
“But suppose the directors are not unanimous.”
“They should be unanimous. They should make themselves unanimous. God bless my soul! You don’t want to see the thing fall to pieces!”
“Not if it can be carried on honestly.”
‚ÄúHonestly! Who says that anything is dishonest?‚Äù Again the brow became very heavy. ‚ÄúLook here, Mr.¬ÝMontague. If you and I quarrel in that Boardroom, there is no knowing the amount of evil we may do to every individual shareholder in the Company. I find the responsibility on my own shoulders so great that I say the thing must be stopped. Damme, Mr.¬ÝMontague, it must be stopped. We mustn‚Äôt ruin widows and children, Mr.¬ÝMontague. We mustn‚Äôt let those shares run down 20 below par for a mere chimera. I‚Äôve known a fine property blasted, Mr.¬ÝMontague, sent straight to the dogs‚ÅÝ‚Äîannihilated, sir;‚ÅÝ‚Äîso that it all vanished into thin air, and widows and children past counting were sent out to starve about the streets‚ÅÝ‚Äîjust because one director sat in another director‚Äôs chair. I did, by G‚ÅÝ‚∏∫! What do you think of that, Mr.¬ÝMontague? Gentlemen who don‚Äôt know the nature of credit, how strong it is‚ÅÝ‚Äîas the air‚ÅÝ‚Äîto buoy you up; how slight it is‚ÅÝ‚Äîas a mere vapour‚ÅÝ‚Äîwhen roughly touched, can do an amount of mischief of which they themselves don‚Äôt in the least understand the extent! What is it you want, Mr.¬ÝMontague?‚Äù
“What do I want?” Melmotte’s description of the peculiar susceptibility of great mercantile speculations had not been given without some effect on Montague, but this direct appeal to himself almost drove that effect out of his mind. “I only want justice.”
‚ÄúBut you should know what justice is before you demand it at the expense of other people. Look here, Mr.¬ÝMontague. I suppose you are like the rest of us, in this matter. You want to make money out of it.‚Äù
“For myself, I want interest for my capital; that is all. But I am not thinking of myself.”
‚ÄúYou are getting very good interest. If I understand the matter,‚Äù‚ÅÝ‚Äîand here Melmotte pulled out a little book, showing thereby how careful he was in mastering details‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äúyou had about ¬£6,000 embarked in the business when Fisker joined your firm. You imagine yourself to have that still.‚Äù
“I don’t know what I’ve got.”
“I can tell you then. You have that, and you’ve drawn nearly a thousand pounds since Fisker came over, in one shape or another. That’s not bad interest on your money.”
“There was back interest due to me.”
‚ÄúIf so, it‚Äôs due still. I‚Äôve nothing to do with that. Look here, Mr.¬ÝMontague. I am most anxious that you should remain with us. I was about to propose, only for that little rumpus the other day, that, as you‚Äôre an unmarried man, and have time on your hands, you should go out to California and probably across to Mexico, in order to get necessary information for the Company. Were I of your age, unmarried, and without impediment, it is just the thing I should like. Of course you‚Äôd go at the Company‚Äôs expense. I would see to your own personal interests while you were away;‚ÅÝ‚Äîor you could appoint anyone by power of attorney. Your seat at the Board would be kept for you; but, should anything occur amiss‚ÅÝ‚Äîwhich it won‚Äôt, for the thing is as sound as anything I know‚ÅÝ‚Äîof course you, as absent, would not share the responsibility. That‚Äôs what I was thinking. It would be a delightful trip;‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut if you don‚Äôt like it, you can of course remain at the Board, and be of the greatest use to me. Indeed, after a bit I could devolve nearly the whole management on you;‚ÅÝ‚Äîand I must do something of the kind, as I really haven‚Äôt the time for it. But‚ÅÝ‚Äîif it is to be that way‚ÅÝ‚Äîdo be unanimous. Unanimity is the very soul of these things;‚ÅÝ‚Äîthe very soul, Mr.¬ÝMontague.‚Äù
“But if I can’t be unanimous?”
‚ÄúWell;‚ÅÝ‚Äîif you can‚Äôt, and if you won‚Äôt take my advice about going out;‚ÅÝ‚Äîwhich, pray, think about, for you would be most useful. It might be the very making of the railway;‚ÅÝ‚Äîthen I can only suggest that you should take your ¬£6,000 and leave us. I, myself, should be greatly distressed; but if you are determined that way I will see that you have your money. I will make myself personally responsible for the payment of it‚ÅÝ‚Äîsome time before the end of the year.‚Äù
Paul Montague told the great man that he would consider the whole matter, and see him in Abchurch Lane before the next Board day. ‚ÄúAnd now, goodbye,‚Äù said Mr.¬ÝMelmotte, as he bade his young friend adieu in a hurry. ‚ÄúI‚Äôm afraid that I‚Äôm keeping Sir Gregory Gribe, the Bank Director, waiting downstairs.‚Äù