Ovington's Bank Part 34

The cashier nodded and went out.

Ovington gazed thoughtfully at his joined finger-tips. "Is the door closed?" he asked again, and a.s.sured that it was, he looked thoughtfully from one to the other of the young men. He seemed to be measuring them, considering how far he could trust them, how far it would be well to take them into his confidence. Then, "We are going to meet a crisis," he said. "I have now no doubt about that. All over the country the banks have increased their issues, and hold a vast quant.i.ty of p.a.w.ned stock. If the fall in values is continued, the banks must throw the stock on the market, and there will be a general fall. At the same time they will be obliged to restrict credit and refuse discounts, which will force traders to throw goods on the market to meet their obligations. Goods as well as stocks will fall.

Alarm will follow, and presently there will be a run on a weak bank and it will close its doors. Then there will be a panic, and a run on other banks--a run proportioned in violence to the amount of credit granted in the last two years. We may have to meet a run on deposits at the same time that we may be called upon to cash every note that we have issued."

"Impossible!" Arthur cried. "We could not do it."

"If you mean that the run is impossible," the banker answered quietly, "I much fear that events will confute you. If you mean that we could not meet our obligations, well, we must strain every nerve to do so.

We must retain all the cash that comes in, and we must issue no more notes, create no more credit. But even this we must do with discretion, and above all not a whisper must pa.s.s beyond this room. I will speak to Rodd. Hamar I will see this evening, and do what I can to sweeten the refusal. We must wear confident faces however grave the crisis. We are solvent, amply solvent, if time be given us to realize our resources; but time may not be given us, and we may have to make great sacrifices. You may be inclined to blame me----" he paused, and looked from one to the other--Arthur stood frowning, his eyes on the carpet--"that I did not take the alarm earlier? Well, I ought to have done so, perhaps. But----"

"n.o.body blames you, sir!" It was Clement who spoke, Clement, in whom the last few minutes had made a marked change. His dulness and listlessness had fallen from him, he stood upright and alert. The imagination which had balked at the routine of banking, faced a crisis with alacrity, and conscious that he had hitherto failed his father, he welcomed with zest the opportunity of proving his loyalty, "n.o.body blames you, sir!" he repeated firmly. "We are here to stand by you, and I am confident that we shall win through. If any bank can stand, Ovington's will stand. And if we don't win through, if the public insists on cutting its own throat, well"--a little ashamed of his own enthusiasm--"we shall still believe in you, sir, you may be sure of that!"

"But isn't--isn't all this a little premature?" Arthur asked, his tone cold and business-like. "I don't understand why you think that all this is coming upon us at a moment's notice, sir? Without warning?"

"Not quite without warning," the banker rejoined with patience.

Clement's declaration of faith had moved him more deeply than he showed, and, having that, he could bear a little disappointment. "I have hinted more than once, Arthur, that I was uneasy. But why, you ask, this sudden alarm--now? Well, look at Richardson's list of last Friday's prices. You have not seen it. Exchequer Bills that a week ago were at par are at a discount. India Stock are down five points on the day--a large fall for such a stock. New Four per Cents, have fallen 3, Bank Stock that stood at 224 ten days ago is 214. These are not panic falls, but they are serious figures. With Bank Stock falling ten points in as many days, what will happen to the immense ma.s.s of speculative securities held by the public, and on much of which calls are due? It will be down this week; next week the banks will have to throw it out to save their margins, and customers to pay their calls.

It will fall, and fall. The week after, perhaps, panic! A rush to draw deposits, or a rush to cash notes, or, probably, both."

"Then you think--you must think"--Arthur's voice was not quite under his control--"that there is danger?"

"It would be as foolish in me to deny it here," the banker replied gravely, "as it would be reckless in me to affirm it outside. There is danger. We shall run a risk, but I believe that we shall win through, though, it may be, by a narrow margin. And a little thing might upset us."

Arthur was not of an anxious temperament--far from it. But he had committed himself to the bank. He had involved himself in its fortunes in no ordinary way. He had joined it against the wishes of his friends and in the teeth of the prejudices of his caste. He had staked his reputation for judgment upon its success, and a.s.sured that it would give him in the future all for which he thirsted, he had deemed himself far-sighted, and others fools. In doing this he had never dreamt of failure, he had never weighed the possibility of loss. Not once had he reflected that he might turn out to be wrong and robbed of the prize--might in the end be a laughing-stock!

Now as the possibility of all this, as the thought of failure, complete and final, flooded his mind and shook his self-confidence, he flinched. Danger! Danger, owned to by Ovington himself! Ah, he ought to have known! He ought to have suspected that fortunes were not so easily made! He ought to have reflected that Ovington's was not Dean's! That it was but a young bank, ill-rooted as yet--and speculative! Ay, speculative! Such a bank might fall, he was almost certain now that it would fall, as easily as it had risen!

It was a nerve-shaking vision that rose before him, and for a moment he could not hide his disorder. At any rate, he could not hide it from two jealous eyes. Clement saw and condemned--not fully understanding all that this meant to the other or the sudden strain which it put upon him. A moment and Arthur was himself again, and his first words recovered for him the elder man's confidence. They were practical.

"How much--I mean, what extra amount of reserve," he asked, "would make us safe?"

"Just so," and in the banker's eyes there shone a gleam of relief.

"Well, if we had twelve thousand pounds, in addition to our existing a.s.sets, I think--nay, I am confident that that would place us out of danger."

"Twelve thousand pounds."

"Yes. It is not a large sum. But it might make all the difference if it came to a pinch."

"In cash?"

"In gold, or Bank paper. Or in such securities as could be realized even in a crisis. Twelve thousand added to our reserve--I think I may say with confidence that with that we could meet any run that could be made upon us."

"There is no doubt that we are solvent, sir?"

"You should know that as well as I do."

"We could realize the twelve thousand eventually?"

"Of course, or we should not be solvent without it." For once Ovington spoke a little impatiently.

"Then could we not," Arthur asked, "by laying our accounts before our London agents obtain the necessary help, sir?"

"If we were the only bank likely to be in peril, of course we could.

And even as it is, you are so far right that I had already determined to do that. It is the obvious course, and my bag is being packed in the house--I shall go to town by the afternoon coach. And now," rising to his feet, "we have been together long enough--we must be careful to cause no suspicion. Do you, Clement, see Ma.s.sy, the wine-merchant to-day, and tell him that I will take, to lay down, the ten dozen of '20 port that he offered me. And ask the two Welshes to dine with me on Friday--I shall return on Thursday. And get some oysters from Hamar's--two barrels--and have one or two people to dine while I am away. And, cheerful faces, boys--and still tongues. And now go. I must put into shape the accounts that I shall need in town."

He dismissed them with calmness, but he did not at once fall to work upon the papers. His serenity was that of the commander who, on the eve of battle, reviews the issues of the morrow, and habituated to the chances of war, knows that he may be defeated, but makes his dispositions, folds his cloak about him, and lies down to sleep. But under the cloak of the commander, and behind the mask that deceives those about him, is still the man, with the man's hopes and fears, and cares and anxieties, which habit has rendered tolerable, and pride enables him to veil. But they are there. They are there.

As he sat, he thought of his rise, of his success, of step won after step; of the praise of men and the jealousy of rivals which wealth had won for him; and of the new machine that he had built up--Ovington's.

And he knew that if fate went against him, there might in a very short time be an end of all. Yesterday he and Wolley had been equals. They had risen from obscurity together. To-day Wolley was a bankrupt.

To-morrow--they might be again equal in their fall, and Ovington's a thing to wonder at. Dean's would chuckle, and some would call him a fool and some a rogue, and all an upstart--one who had not been able to keep his head. He would be ruined, and they would find no name too bad for him.

He thought of Betty. How would she bear it? He had made much of her and spoiled her, she had been the apple of his eye. She had known only the days of his prosperity. How would she bear it, how take it? He sighed.

He turned at last to the papers.

CHAPTER XXIII

It was with a firmer tread that Clement went back to his desk in the bank. He had pleased his father and he was pleased with himself. Here at last was something to do. Here at last was something to fight. Here at last was mettle in the banking business that suited him; and not a mere counting of figures and reckoning of pennies, and taking in at four per cent. and putting out at eight. His gaze, pa.s.sing over the ledger that lay before him, focussed itself on the unconscious customers beyond the counter. He had the air of challenging them, of defying them. They were the enemy. It was their folly, their greed, their selfishness, their insensate desire to save themselves, let who would perish, that menaced the bank, that threatened the security, the well-being, the happiness of better men. It was a battle and they were the enemy. He scowled at them. Supposing them to have sense, patience, unselfishness, there would be no battle and no danger. But he knew that they had it not in them. No, they would rush in at the first alarm, like a flock of silly sheep, and thrusting and pushing and trampling one another down, would run, each bent on his own safety, blindly on ruin.

From this moment the bank became to him a place of interest and color, instead of that which it had been. Where there was danger there was romance. Even Rodd, adding up a customer's pa.s.s-book, his face more thoughtful than usual, wore a halo, for he stood in peril. If the shutters went up Rodd would suffer with his betters. He would lose his place, he would be thrown on the world. He would lose, too, the trifle which he had on deposit in the bank. And even Rodd might have his plans and aims and ambitions, might be hoping for a rise, might be looking to marry some day--and some one!

Pheugh! Clement's mouth opened, he stared aghast--stared at the wire blind that obscured the lower half of the nearer window, as if all his faculties were absorbed in reading the familiar legend, KNAB S'NOTGNIVO, that showed darkly upon it. Customers, Rodd, the bank, all vanished. For he had forgotten! He had forgotten Josina! In contemplating what was exciting in the struggle before him he had forgotten that his stake was greater than the stake of others--that it was immeasurably greater. For it was Josina. He stood far enough below her as it was, separated from her by a height of pride and prejudice and convention, which he must scale if he would reach her. But he had one point in his favor--as things were. His father was wealthy, and standing a-tiptoe on his father's money-bags he might possibly aspire to her hand. So uplifted, so advantaged he might hope to grasp that hand, and in the end, by boldness and resolution, to make it his own.

That was the position as long as all went well at the bank: and it was a position difficult enough. But if the money-bags crumbled and sank beneath his feet? If in the crisis that was coming they toppled over, and his father failed, as he might fail? If he lost the footing, the one footing that money now gave him? Then her hand would be altogether out of his reach, she would be far above him. He could not hope to reach her, could not hope to gain her, could not in honor even aspire to her?

He saw that now. His stake was Josina, and the battle lost, he lost Josina. He had been brave enough until he thought of that, reckless even, welcoming the trumpet call. But seeing that, and seeing it suddenly, he groaned.

The sound recalled him to himself, and he winced, remembering his father's injunction to show a cheerful front. That he should have failed so soon! He looked guiltily at Arthur. Had he heard?

But Arthur had not heard. He was standing at a desk attached to the wall, his back towards Clement, his side-face to the window. He had not heard, because his thoughts had been elsewhere, and strange to say, the subject which had engaged them had been also Josina. The banker's warning had been a sharp blow to him. He was practical. He prided himself on the quality, and he foresaw no pleasure in a contest in which the success that was his be-all and end-all would be hazarded.

True, his mercurial spirit had already begun to rise, and with every minute he leant more and more to the opinion that the alarm was groundless. He thought that the banker was scaring himself, and seeing bogies where no bogies were--as if forsooth a little fall meant a great catastrophe, or all the customers would leave the bank because Wolley did! But he none the less for that looked abroad. Prudently he reviewed the resources that would remain to him in the event of defeat, and like a cautious general he determined beforehand his line of retreat.

That line was plain. If the bank failed, if a thing so cruel and incredible could happen, he still had Garth. He still had Garth to fall back upon, its lands, its wealth, its position. The bank might go, and Ovington--confound him for the silly mismanagement that had brought things to this!--might go into limbo with it, and Clement and Rodd and the rest of them--after all, it was their native level! But for him, born in the purple, there would still be Garth.

Only he must be quick. He must not lose a day or an hour. If he waited too long, word of the bank's embarra.s.sments might reach the old man, re-awaken his prejudices, warp his mind, and all might be lost. The influence on which he counted for success might cease to be his, and in a moment he might find himself out in the cold. Weakened as the Squire was, it would not be wise to trust too much to the change in him!

No, he must do it at once. He would ride out that very day, and gain, as he did not doubt that he would gain, the Squire's permission to speak to Josina. He would leave no room for accidents, and, setting these aside, he did not doubt the result.

He carried out his intention in spite of some demur on Clement's part, who in his new-born zeal thought that in his father's absence the other ought to remain on the spot. But Arthur had the habit of the upper hand, and with a contemptuous fling at Clement's own truancies, took it now. He was at Garth before sunset of the short November day, and he had not sat in the Squire's room ten minutes before chance gave him the opening he desired.

The old man had been listening to the town news, and apparently had been engrossed in it. But suddenly, he leant forward, and poked Arthur with the end of his stick. "Here do you tell me!" he said. "What ails the girl? I've no eyes, but I've ears, and there's something. What's amiss with her, eh?"

"Do you mean Josina, sir?"

"Who else, man? I asked you what's the matter with her. D'you think I don't know that there is something? I've all my senses but one, thank G.o.d, and I can hear if I can't see! What is it?"