IN the Board Room, next day, Thorpe awaited the coming of Lord Plowden with the serene confidence of a prophet who not only knows that he is inspired, but has had an illicit glimpse into the workings of the machinery of events.
He sat motionless at his desk, like a big spider for who time has no meaning. Before him lay two newspapers, folded so as to expose paragraphs heavily indicated by blue pencil-marks. They were not financial journals, and for that reason it was improbable that he would have seen these paragraphs, if the Secretary of the Company had not marked them, and brought them to him. That official had been vastly more fluttered by them than he found it possible to be. In slightly-varying language, these two items embedded in so-called money articles reported the rumour that a charge of fraud had arisen in connection with the Rubber Consols corner, and that sensational disclosures were believed to be impending.
Thorpe looked with a dulled, abstracted eye at these papers, lying on the desk, and especially at the blue pencil-lines upon them, as he pondered many things. Their statement, thus scattered broadcast to the public, seemed at once to introduce a new element into the situation, and to leave it unchanged. That influence of some sort had been exerted to get this story into these papers, it did not occur to him for an instant to doubt. To his view, all things that were put into papers were put there for a purpose—it would express his notion more clearly, perhaps, to say for a price. Of the methods of Fleet Street, he was profoundly ignorant, but his impressions of them were all cynical. Upon reflection, however, it seemed unlikely to him that Lord Plowden had secured the insertion of these rumours. So far as Thorpe could fathom that nobleman\'s game, its aims would not be served by premature publicity of this kind.
Gradually, the outlines of a more probable combination took shape in his thoughts. There were left in the grip of the “corner” now only two victims,—Rostocker and Aronson. They owed this invidious differentiation to a number of causes: they had been the chief sellers of stock, being between them responsible for the delivery of 8,500 Rubber Consols shares, which they could not get; they were men of larger fortune than the other “shorts,” and therefore could with safety be squeezed longest; what was fortunate for him under the circumstances, they were the two men against whom Thorpe\'s personal grudge seemed able to maintain itself most easily.
For these reasons, they had already been mulcted in differences to the extent of, in round numbers, 165,000 pounds. On the morrow, the twelfth of September, it was Thorpe\'s plan to allow them to buy in the shares they needed, at 22 or 23 pounds per share—which would take from them nearly 200,000 pounds more. He had satisfied himself that they could, and would if necessary, pay this enormous ransom for their final escape from the “corner.” Partly because it was not so certain that they could pay more, partly because he was satiated with spoils and tired of the strain of the business, he had decided to permit this escape.
He realized now, however, that they on their side had planned to escape without paying any final ransom at all.
That was clearly the meaning of these paragraphs, and of the representations which had yesterday been made to the Stock Exchange Committee. He had additional knowledge today of the character of these representations. Nothing definite had been alleged, but some of the members of the Committee had been informally notified, so Semple had this morning learned, that a specific charge of fraud, supported by unanswerable proof, was to be brought against the Rubber Consols management on the morrow. Thorpe reasoned out now, step by step, what that meant. Lord Plowden had sought out Rostocker and Aronson, and had told them that he had it in his power ignominiously to break the “corner.” He could hardly have told them the exact nature of his power, because until he should have seen Tavender he did not himself know what it was. But he had given them to understand that he could prove fraud, and they, scenting in this the chance of saving 200,000 pounds, and seeing that time was so terribly short, had hastened to the Committeemen with this vague declaration that, on the morrow, they could prove—they did not precisely know what. Yes—plainly enough—that was what had happened. And it would be these two Jew “wreckers,” eager to invest their speculative notification to the Committee with as much of an air of formality as possible, who had caused the allusions to it to be published in these papers.
Thorpe\'s lustreless eye suddenly twinkled with mirth as he reached this conclusion; his heavy face brightened into a grin of delight. A vision of Lord Plowden\'s absurd predicament rose vividly before him, and he chuckled aloud at it.
It seemed only the most natural thing in the world that, at this instant, a clerk should open the door and nod with meaning to the master. The visitor whom he had warned the people in the outer office he expected, had arrived. Thorpe was still laughing to himself when Lord Plowden entered.
“Hallo! How d\'ye do!” he called out to him from where he sat at his desk.
The hilarity of the manner into which he had been betrayed, upon the instant surprised and rather confused him. He had not been altogether clear as to how he should receive Plowden, but certainly a warm joviality had not occurred to him as appropriate.
The nobleman was even more taken aback. He stared momentarily at the big man\'s beaming mask, and then, with nervous awkwardness, executed a series of changes in his own facial expression and demeanour. He flushed red, opened his lips to say “Ah!” and then twisted them into a doubting and seemingly painful smile. He looked with very bright-eyed intentness at Thorpe, as he advanced, and somewhat spasmodically put out his hand.
It occurred to Thorpe not to see this hand. “How are you!” he repeated in a more mechanical voice, and withdrew his smile. Lord Plowden fidgeted on his feet for a brief, embarrassed interval before the desk, and then dropped into a chair at its side. With a deliberate effort at nonchalance, he crossed his legs, and caressed the ankle on his knee with a careless hand. “Anything new?” he asked.
Thorpe lolled back in his arm-chair. “I\'m going to be able to get away in a few days\' time,” he said, indifferently. “I expect to finally wind up the business on the Stock Exchange tomorrow.”
“Ah—yes,” commented Plowden, vacantly. He seemed to be searching after thoughts which had wandered astray. “Yes—of course.”
“Yes—of course,” Thorpe said after him, with a latent touch of significance.
The other looked up quickly, then glanced away again. “It\'s all going as you expected, is it?” he asked.
“Better than I expected,” Thorpe told him, energetically. “Much better than anybody expected.”
“Hah!” said Plowden. After a moment\'s reflection he went on hesitatingly: “I didn\'t know. I saw something in one of the papers this morning,—one of the money articles,—which spoke as if there were some doubt about the result. That\'s why I called.”
“Well—it\'s damned good of you to come round, and show such a friendly interest.” Thorpe\'s voice seemed candid enough, but there was an enigmatic something in his glance which aroused the other\'s distrust.
“I\'m afraid you don\'t take very much stock in the \'friendly interest,\'” he said, with a constrained little laugh.
“I\'m not taking stock in anything new just now,” replied Thorpe, lending himself lazily to the other\'s metaphor. “I\'m loaded up to the gunnels already.”
A minute of rather oppressive silence ensued. Then Plowden ventured upon an opening. “All the same, it WAS with an idea of,—perhaps being of use to you,—that I came here,” he affirmed. “In what way?” Thorpe put the query almost listlessly.
Lord Plowden turned his hands and let his dark eyes sparkle in a gesture of amiable uncertainty. “That depended upon what was needed. I got the impression that you were in trouble—the paper spoke as if there were no doubt of it—and I imagined that quite probably you would be glad to talk with me about it.”
“Quite right,” said Thorpe. “So I should.”
This comprehensive assurance seemed not, however, to facilitate conversation. The nobleman looked at the pattern of the sock on the ankle he was nursing, and knitted his brows in perplexity. “What if the Committee of the Stock Exchange decide to interfere?” he asked at last.
“Oh, that would knock me sky-high,” Thorpe admitted.
“Approximately, how much may one take \'sky-high\' to mean?”
Thorpe appeared to calculate. “Almost anything up to a quarter of a million,” he answered.
“Hah!” said Lord Plowden again. “Well—I understand—I\'m given to understand—that very likely that is what the Committee will decide.”
“Does it say that in the papers?” asked Thorpe. He essayed an effect of concern. “Where did you see that?”
“I didn\'t see it,” the other explained. “It—it came to me.”
“God!” said Thorpe. “That\'ll be awful! But are you really in earnest? Is that what you hear? And does it come at all straight?”
Lord Plowden nodded portentously. “Absolutely straight,” he said, with gravity.
Thorpe, after a momentary stare of what looked like bewilderment, was seen to clutch at a straw. “But what was it you were saying?” he demanded, with eagerness. “You talked about help—a minute ago. Did you mean it? Have you got a plan? Is there something that you can do?”
Plowden weighed his words. “It would be necessary to have a very complete understanding,” he remarked.
“Whatever you like,” exclaimed the other.
“Pardon me—it would have to be a good deal more definite than that,” Plowden declared. “A \'burnt child\'—you know.”
The big man tapped musingly with his finger-nails on the desk. “We won\'t quarrel about that,” he said. “But what I\'d like to know first,—you needn\'t give anything away that you don\'t want to,—but what\'s your plan? You say that they\'ve got me in a hole, and that you can get me out.” “In effect—yes.”
“But how do you know that I can\'t get myself out? What do you know about the whole thing anyway? Supposing I tell you that I laugh at it—that there\'s no more ground for raising the suspicion of fraud than there is for—for suspecting that you\'ve got wings and can fly.”
“I—I don\'t think you\'ll tell me that,” said Plowden, placidly.
“Well then, supposing I don\'t tell you that,” the other resumed, argumentatively. “Supposing I say instead that it can\'t be proved. If the Committee doesn\'t have proof NOW,—within twenty-one or twenty-two hours,—they can\'t do anything at all. Tomorrow is settling day. All along, I\'ve said I would wind up the thing tomorrow. The market-price has been made for me by the jobbers yesterday and today. I\'m all ready to end the whole business tomorrow—close it all out. And after that\'s done, what do I care about the Stock Exchange Committee? They can investigate and be damned! What could they do to me?”
“I think a man can always be arrested and indicted, and sent to penal servitude,” said Lord Plowden, with a certain solemnity of tone. “There are even well-known instances of extradition.”
Thorpe buried his chin deep in his collar, and regarded his companion with a fixed gaze, in which the latter detected signs of trepidation. “But about the Committee—and tomorrow,” he said slowly. “What do you say about that? How can they act in that lightning fashion? And even if proofs could be got, how do you suppose they are to be got on the drop of the hat, at a minute\'s notice?”
“The case is of sufficient importance to warrant a special meeting tomorrow morning,” the other rejoined. “One hour\'s notice, posted in the House, is sufficient, I believe. Any three members of the Committee can call such a meeting, and I understand that seven make a quorum. You will see that a meeting could be held at noon tomorrow, and within half an hour could make you a ruined man.”
“I don\'t know—would you call it quite ruined?” commented Thorpe. “I should still have a few sovereigns to go on with.”
“A criminal prosecution would be practically inevitable—after such a disclosure,” Plowden reminded him, with augmented severity of tone.
“Don\'t mix the two things up,” the other urged. There seemed to the listener to be supplication in the voice. “It\'s the action of the Committee that you said you could influence. That\'s what we were talking about. You say there will be a special meeting at noon tomorrow——
“I said there could be one,” Plowden corrected him.
“All right. There CAN be one. And do you say that there can be proof,—proof against me of fraud,—produced at that meeting?”
“Yes—I say that,” the nobleman affirmed, quietly.
“And further still—do you say that it rests with you whether that proof shall be produced or not?”
Lord Plowden looked into the impassive, deep-eyed gaze which covered him, and looked away from it again. “I haven\'t put it in just that form,” he said, hesitatingly. “But in essentials—yes, that may be taken as true.”
“And what is your figure? How much do you want for holding this proof of yours back, and letting me finish scooping the money of your Hebrew friends Aronson and Rostocker?”
The peer raised his head, and shot a keenly enquiring glance at the other. “Are they my friends?” he asked, with challenging insolence.
“I\'m bound to assume that you have been dealing with them, just as you are dealing with me.” Thorpe explained his meaning dispassionately, as if the transaction were entirely commonplace. “You tell them that you\'re in a position to produce proof against me, and ask them what they\'ll give for it. Then naturally enough you come to me, and ask what I\'ll be willing to pay to have the proof suppressed. I quite understand that I must bid against these men—and of course I take it for granted that, since you know their figure, you\'ve arranged in your mind what mine is to be. I quite understand, too, that I am to pay more than they have offered. That is on account of \'friendly interest.\'”
“Since you allude to it,” Lord Plowden observed, with a certain calm loftiness of tone, “there is no harm in saying that you WILL pay something on that old score. Once you thrust the promise of something like a hundred thousand pounds positively upon me. You insisted on my believing it, and I did so, like a fool. I came to you to redeem the promise, and you laughed in my face. Very well. It is my turn now. I hold the whip-hand, and I should be an ass not to remember things. I shall want that entire one hundred thousand pounds from you, and fifty thousand added to it \'on account of the \'friendly interest,\' as you so intelligently expressed it.”
Thorpe\'s chin burrowed still deeper upon his breast. “It\'s an outrage,” he said with feeling. Then he added, in tones of dejected resignation: “When will you want it?”
“At the moment when the payments of Rostocker and Aronson are made to you, or to your bankers or agents,” Lord Plowden replied, with prepared facility. He had evidently given much thought to this part of the proceedings. “And of course I shall expect you to draw up now an agreement to that effect. I happen to have a stamped paper with me this time. And if you don\'t mind, we will have it properly witnessed—this time.”
Thorpe looked at him with a disconcertingly leaden stare, the while he thought over what had been proposed. “That\'s right enough,” he announced at last, “but I shall expect you to do some writing too. Since we\'re dealing on this basis, there must be no doubt about the guarantee that you wi............