First Person Paramount Part 34

"Good-afternoon, Mr. Brown; pray give Mr.--er--Hume--my kind regards."

I nodded and withdrew, happy as a king. But until the same hour on the following day I suffered the most poignant anxiety. It was relieved, however, on the way to the stockbrokers' office. As I drove over the bridge, the newsboys were crying at the top of their voices: "Great fall in Anglo-American Hotels. Panic on the Stock Exchange!"

I bought a paper and, trembling with delight, was speedily convinced of the truth of their a.s.sertions. The shares in the great trust, which yesterday had stood firm at forty shillings, had already fallen to twenty, and the market was in a state of collapse. The journal had devoted its leading article to the affair and, voicing the popular att.i.tude, was mildly jubilant at so severe a check having been given to American enterprise. I found Mr. Sims in a state of rapturous excitement. As soon as I had entered the room, he locked the door, and, seizing both my hands, he wrung them as warmly as though I had been his dearest friend, new met after years of separation.

"To think that I almost drove you away from my door the other day!" he cried in a whirl. "Mr. Brown, what don't I owe you. What don't I owe you?"

"You owe me nothing," I replied. "Your grat.i.tude is entirely due to Mr.

Agar Hume, sir; I was merely his messenger."

"Messenger or not," he retorted warmly, "you brought me a message which has made my fortune, and when this business is over I shall insist upon making you a handsome present, Mr. Brown."

I waved my hand and shrugged my shoulders. "My master does not allow me to accept presents," I said, with dignity. "But that reminds me, I am keeping him in suspense. How many shares did you sell to-day?"

"Five hundred thousand!"

"And the figure?"

"Forty shillings for the first hundred; thirty-five for the second; thirty for the third, and twenty for the last two. The price dropped like a rocket in the last half-hour, and now the whole exchange is full of bears; there is scarcely a single buyer offering. I have no doubt but that to-morrow there will be a further heavy fall."

"Hum!" said I. "Let me see, you have now in credit for my master one million one hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds. That is to say, of course, on settlement. Am I right?"

"Perfectly, Mr. Brown. And for that sum I have disposed of seven hundred thousand shares. I hope that Mr.--er--ah--Hume--will be satisfied."

"I am sure he will be." I put on my hat. "Keep on selling till they reach five shillings, please, then buy scrip through another broker, or more, as fast as possible, until we stand even. Those are my master's latest orders, Mr. Sims."

"Very good, Mr. Brown. Anything else?"

"Not at present, sir. Good-evening!"

Next day "Anglo-American Hotels" fell as low as four shillings, and continued at that price until the following afternoon, when they began to rise, owing to the heavy purchases made on my account by the brokers employed in that behalf by Mr. Sims. On this point I need only remark that my agents, during that period, bought shares to replace the fict.i.tious ones which had been sold at my behest for a little over 450,000.

On Sat.u.r.day morning, promptly at the appointed hour, Mr. Sims came to me, at the Golden Grove Hotel. As may be readily imagined, I received him in the guise of Mr. Stelfox Steele, and I took every conceivable care that he should still persist in his delusion. He brought with him a large bundle of transfer forms, which it took me an hour to sign, writing at the top of my speed, for not many of the shares were in larger parcels than a thousand. I subscribed them all with my own name--Agar Hume. Mr. Sims meanwhile watching my flying pen in respectful silence. When I had finished, I pushed aside the papers towards him, and heaved a deep sigh.

"Never mind details, Mr. Sims," I said, wearily, "Brown has bored me with them through the week. He tells me that when your commission is deducted I am to receive 650,000?"

"Yes, sir. A splendid week's work, Mr. Steele."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Not too bad, since I was pressed for time, but a bagatelle, Mr. Sims, to the business we shall yet do together. By the way, I leave London to-night, but Brown will stay behind me to receive the money. When can you be ready to settle?"

"On Monday, at noon, if that will suit you, Mr. Steele?"

I nodded. "It will do. Make out an open bank-cheque and hand it to Brown, who will give you a receipt signed by Agar Hume. You will understand that I cannot discharge you in my own name?"

"Certainly, sir."

"Well, Sims, I hope that you have profited by my example and advice?"

He gave me a look of deep grat.i.tude. "Thanks to you, sir," he cried. "I am a rich man to-day, that is to say, from my point of view--not yours, sir."

"How much have you made?"

"Seventy thousand, commission included. I cannot sufficiently express my obligation to you, Mr. Steele. There are not many operators who will allow their brokers to follow their lead. But you, sir, were more than generous!"

I smiled. "I can afford such a pastime occasionally, Sims. Besides, I liked your face. Ah! well. I shall not detain you now, for I am very busy myself. Good-bye!"

He stood up, and we shook hands.

"We'll meet again, sir, I hope," he cried. "You were good enough to hint a moment since----"

"Yes," I interrupted, "We'll meet again. But our acquaintanceship must necessarily be preserved a secret from the world. Therefore be good enough not to feel offended should we by any chance encounter in public, and you receive no recognition at my hands. When I want you, my secretary, Brown, will let you know. Until then, farewell!"

He bowed deeply, and respectfully retired.

As for me, I removed my disguise as quickly as I could, and changed my clothes. I then paid my reckoning at the hotel, and set off for Bruton Street, with exactly three pounds in my pocket. There I remained until Monday afternoon, sunk in a veritable debauch of dreams. The time pa.s.sed on the wings of brilliant fancies, and not an hour appeared too long, despite my natural anxiety to finger the money which my audacious dexterity had won. My extraordinary success had, in fact, turned my head a little, and had swelled my vanity to proportions so magnificent that I fell into a stupor of self-reverence, and often even forgot to eat. I awakened at length, however, to thoughts of revenge. Somewhere hiding from me in the world was a certain great surgeon--named, Sir Charles Venner--who had inflicted on my body inhuman tortures. He had driven needles into my fingers, and he had seared my feet with branding-irons. I had been obliged by poverty temporarily to relinquish all idea of vengeance. But now I was rich! rich! I sprang to my feet with a sudden cry of rage and exultation, savagely resolved to repay my enemy with interest for every pang that I had suffered at his hands.

After that I dreamed no more.

My final interview with Mr. Sims was brief, but eminently satisfactory.

In exchange for a receipt which I had written out beforehand, he handed to me, as he thought to Mr. Brown, an open cheque, drawn in favour of Mr. Agar Hume on the Bank of England, for 650,000--which was marked "good." He then shook me warmly by the hand and begged me to allow him to make me a present. That, however, I refused, and half-an-hour later I was again in my room at Bruton Street, stripping off for the last time my disguise as "Brown," the Secretary.

I then repaired to my bank, and, much to the old manager's astonishment, re-opened my account there with the cheque that represented my princely and strangely-gotten fortune. The manager did not ask me for a reference on that occasion. Indeed, he nearly fell over himself in his anxiety to be polite, and he personally conducted me when I departed to the outer door. Truly, money makes the man.

Two days afterwards, I set out for Paris on my way to Cairo, my pockets full of foreign gold, and armed besides with letters of credit for large amounts. My intention was to find, first of all, my false love, Marion Le Mar, now Lady Dagmar. And through her, if possible, my enemy--Sir Charles Venner.

X

THE HOUSE AMONG THE PINES

Clever rascals are of necessity friendless and incomparably lonely men.

Prudence prevents them from confiding their affairs to any other, even their nearest and dearest; therefore they are obliged to lead self-centred and segregated lives in the truest sense of the term, and are absolutely prohibited from tasting that greatest of luxuries, human sympathy. Since my last embarkation upon a career of villainy, I had so far escaped the pangs of ennui, because my mind had been always occupied with my ambition, and action had followed mercifully fast upon design. The mere fact, however, of having succeeded in making myself a rich man, robbed me of that precious concern for the future which had hitherto been my refuge from reflection. It is true that considerations of vengeance partially supplied its place, but as I had yet to find my enemy before I could exchange purpose for practice, I began to realize the utter isolation of my state. I arrived at Paris in a desolate and listless mood, and so wearied with my own companionship that I was ready to make friends with a dog.

For that reason, while sipping coffee after dinner in the saloon of the Hotel de Louvre, where I had put up, I by no means disdained the overtures of an old and weazened little Frenchman, who appeared to be as lonely as myself.

He was a curious looking creature: grey, grizzled, and stooped of shoulder. His face was seamed with a thousand wrinkles, that even overspread his long melancholy nose. But his eyes, although small, were very bright, and his mouth was that of a humourist.

He sidled up to me by degrees, evidently wishful to make my acquaintance, and yet a little nervous of the first step. But I met him half way with an observation on the weather, and presently we were seated before the same table in close and animated conversation.

"Life is for the most part a dull and dreary affair, monsieur," said he.

"The remark of an intelligent and experienced man, monsieur," said I.

He bowed and smiled. "That is true, monsieur," he returned, "but your discernment proves that you also possess the qualities which you have mentioned."

"Yet in an inferior degree, for I take it that I am your junior, and you have the air of a man who has improved his opportunities to the utmost."