3 books to know Horatian Satire. Anthony TrollopeЧитать онлайн книгу.
to, the great firms of Melmotte & Co, of London, and Fisker, Montague, and Montague of San Francisco. Mr Fisker’s arms were waved gracefully about. His head was turned now this way and now that, but never towards his plate. It was very well done. But there was more faith in one ponderous word from Mr Melmotte’s mouth than in all the American’s oratory.
There was not one of them then present who had not after some fashion been given to understand that his fortune was to be made, not by the construction of the railway, but by the floating of the railway shares. They had all whispered to each other their convictions on this head. Even Montague did not beguile himself into an idea that he was really a director in a company to be employed in the making and working of a railway. People out of doors were to be advertised into buying shares, and they who were so to say indoors were to have the privilege of manufacturing the shares thus to be sold. That was to be their work, and they all knew it. But now, as there were eight of them collected together, they talked of humanity at large and of the coming harmony of nations.
After the first cigar, Melmotte withdrew, and Lord Alfred went with him. Lord Alfred would have liked to remain, being a man who enjoyed tobacco and soda-and-brandy — but momentous days had come upon him, and he thought well to cling to his Melmotte. Mr Samuel Cohenlupe also went, not having taken a very distinguished part in the entertainment. Then the young men were left alone, and it was soon proposed that they should adjourn to the cardroom. It had been rather hoped that Fisker would go with the elders. Nidderdale, who did not understand much about the races of mankind, had his doubts whether the American gentleman might not be a ‘Heathen Chinee,’ such as he had read of in poetry. But Mr Fisker liked to have his amusement as well as did the others, and went up resolutely into the cardroom. Here they were joined by Lord Grasslough, and were very quickly at work, having chosen loo as their game. Mr Fisker made an allusion to poker as a desirable pastime, but Lord Nidderdale, remembering his poetry, shook his head. ‘Oh! bother,’ he said, ‘let’s have some game that Christians play.’ Mr Fisker declared himself ready for any game — irrespective of religious prejudices.
It must be explained that the gambling at the Beargarden had gone on with very little interruption, and that on the whole Sir Felix Carbury kept his luck. There had of course been vicissitudes, but his star had been in the ascendant. For some nights together this had been so continual that Mr Miles Grendall had suggested to his friend Lord Grasslough that there must be foul play. Lord Grasslough, who had not many good gifts, was, at least, not suspicious, and repudiated the idea. ‘We’ll keep an eye on him,’ Miles Grendall had said. ‘You may do as you like, but I’m not going to watch any one,’ Grasslough had replied. Miles ‘had watched,’ and had watched in vain, and it may as well be said at once that Sir Felix, with all his faults, was not as yet a blackleg. Both of them now owed Sir Felix a considerable sum of money, as did also Dolly Longestaffe, who was not present on this occasion. Latterly very little ready money had passed hands — very little in proportion to the sums which had been written down on paper — though Sir Felix was still so well in funds as to feel himself justified in repudiating any caution that his mother might give him.
When I.O.U.‘s have for some time passed freely in such a company as that now assembled the sudden introduction of a stranger is very disagreeable, particularly when that stranger intends to start for San Francisco on the following morning. If it could be arranged that the stranger should certainly lose, no doubt then he would be regarded as a godsend. Such strangers have ready money in their pockets, a portion of which would be felt to descend like a soft shower in a time of drought. When these dealings in unsecured paper have been going on for a considerable time real bank notes come to have a loveliness which they never possessed before. But should the stranger win, then there may arise complications incapable of any comfortable solution. In such a state of things some Herr Vossner must be called in, whose terms are apt to be ruinous. On this occasion things did not arrange themselves comfortably. From the very commencement Fisker won, and quite a budget of little papers fell into his possession, many of which were passed to him from the hands of Sir Felix — bearing, however, a ‘G’ intended to stand for Grasslough, or an ‘N’ for Nidderdale, or a wonderful hieroglyphic which was known at the Beargarden to mean D. L. — or Dolly Longestaffe, the fabricator of which was not present on the occasion.
Then there was the M.G. of Miles Grendall, which was a species of paper peculiarly plentiful and very unattractive on these commercial occasions. Paul Montague hitherto had never given an I.O.U. at the Beargarden — nor of late had our friend Sir Felix. On the present occasion Montague won, though not heavily. Sir Felix lost continually, and was almost the only loser. But Mr Fisker won nearly all that was lost. He was to start for Liverpool by train at 8.30 a.m., and at 6 a.m., he counted up his bits of paper and found himself the winner of about £600. ‘I think that most of them came from you, Sir Felix,’ he said — handing the bundle across the table.
‘I dare say they did, but they are all good against these other fellows.’ Then Fisker, with most perfect good humour, extracted one from the mass which indicated Dolly Longestaffe’s indebtedness to the amount of £50. ‘That’s Longestaffe,’ said Felix, ‘and I’ll change that of course.’ Then out of his pocket-book he extracted other minute documents bearing that M.G. which was so little esteemed among them — and so made up the sum. ‘You seem to have £150 from Grasslough, £145 from Nidderdale, and £322 10s from Grendall,’ said the baronet. Then Sir Felix got up as though he had paid his score. Fisker, with smiling good humour, arranged the little bits of paper before him and looked round upon the company.
‘This won’t do, you know,’ said Nidderdale. ‘Mr Fisker must have his money before he leaves. You’ve got it, Carbury.’
‘Of course he has,’ said Grasslough.
‘As it happens, I have not,’ said Sir Felix — ‘but what if I had?’
‘Mr Fisker starts for New York immediately,’ said Lord Nidderdale. ‘I suppose we can muster £600 among us. Ring the bell for Vossner. I think Carbury ought to pay the money as he lost it, and we didn’t expect to have our I.O.U.‘s brought up in this way.’
‘Lord Nidderdale,’ said Sir Felix, ‘I have already said that I have not got the money about me. Why should I have it more than you, especially as I knew I had I.O.U.‘s more than sufficient to meet anything I could lose when I sat down?’
‘Mr Fisker must have his money at any rate,’ said Lord Nidderdale, ringing the bell again.
‘It doesn’t matter one straw, my lord,’ said the American. ‘Let it be sent to me to Frisco, in a bill, my lord.’ And so he got up to take his hat, greatly to the delight of Miles Grendall.
But the two young lords would not agree to this. ‘If you must go this very minute I’ll meet you at the train with the money,’ said Nidderdale. Fisker begged that no such trouble should be taken. Of course he would wait ten minutes if they wished. But the affair was one of no consequence. Wasn’t the post running every day? Then Herr Vossner came from his bed, suddenly arrayed in a dressing-gown, and there was a conference in a corner between him, the two lords, and Mr Grendall. In a very few minutes Herr Vossner wrote a cheque for the amount due by the lords, but he was afraid that he had not money at his banker’s sufficient for the greater claim. It was well understood that Herr Vossner would not advance money to Mr Grendall unless others would pledge themselves for the amount.
‘I suppose I’d better send you a bill over to America,’ said Miles Grendall, who had taken no part in the matter as long as he was in the same boat with the lords.
‘Just so. My partner, Montague, will tell you the address.’ Then bustling off, taking an affectionate adieu of Paul, shaking hands with them all round, and looking as though he cared nothing for the money, he took his leave. ‘One cheer for the South Central Pacific and Mexican Railway,’ he, said as he went out of the room. Not one there had liked Fisker. His manners were not as their manners; his waistcoat not as their waistcoats. He smoked his cigar after a fashion different from theirs, and spat upon the carpet. He said ‘my lord’ too often, and grated their prejudices equally whether he treated them with familiarity or deference. But he had behaved well about the money, and they felt that they were behaving badly.