The Mississippi Bubble Part 38

And what would the System be without Mr. Law? And what would Paris be without the System? Why, listen, Lady Catharine! I gained fifty thousand livres yesterday, and my coachman, the rascal, in some manner seems to have done quite as well for himself. I doubt not he will yet build a mansion of his own, and perhaps my husband may drive for him! These be strange days indeed. I only hope they may continue, in spite of what my husband says."

"And what says he?" asked Lady Catharine, her own voice sounding to her unfamiliar and far away.

"Why, that the city is mad, and that this soon must end--this Mississippi bubble, as my Lord Stair calls it at the emba.s.sy."

"Yet I have heard all France is prosperous."

"Oh, yes indeed. 'Tis said that but yesterday the kingdom paid four millions of its debt to Bavaria, three millions of its debt to Sweden--yet these are not the most pressing debts of France."

"Meaning--"

"Why, the debts of the regent to his friends--those are the important things. But the other day he gave eighty thousand livres to Madame Chateauthiers, as a little present. He gave two hundred thousand livres to the Abbe Something-or-other, who asked for it, and another thousand livres to that rat Dubois. The thief D'Argenson ever counsels him to give in abundance now that he hath abundance, and the regent is ready with a vengeance with his compliance. Saint Simon, that priggish duke, has had a million given him to repay a debt his father took on for the king a generation ago. To the captain of the guard the regent gives six hundred thousand livres, for carrying the fan of the regent's forgotten wife; to the Prince Courtenay, two hundred thousand, most like because the prince said he had need of it; a pension of two hundred thousand annually to the Marquise de Bellefonte, the second such sum, because perhaps she once made eyes at him; a pension of sixty thousand livres to a three-year-old relative to the Prince de Conti, because Conti cried for it; one hundred thousand livres to Mademoiselle Haidee, because she has a consumption; and as much more to the d.u.c.h.esse de Falari, because she has not a consumption. Bah! The credit of France might indeed, as my husband says, be called leaking through the slats of fans."

"But, look you!" she went on, "how Mr. Law feathers his own nest. He bought lately, for a half million livres, the house of the Comte de Tesse; and on the same day, as you know, the Hotel Mazarin. There is no limit to his buying of estates. This, so says my husband, is the great proof of his honesty. He puts his money here in France, and does not send it over seas. He seems to have no doubt, and indeed no fear, of anything."

Lady Warrington paused, half for want of breath. Silence fell in the great room. A big and busy fly, deep down in the crystal _cylindre_ which sheltered a taper on a near-by table, buzzed out a droning protest. The face of Lady Catharine was averted.

"You did not tell me, Lady Emily," said she, with woman's feigned indifference, "what was the name of this poor woman of the other evening."

"Why, so I had forgot--and 'tis said that Mr. Law, after all, comported himself something of the gentleman. No one knows how far back the affair runs, nor how serious it was. And indeed I have seen no one who ever heard of the woman before."

"And the name?"

"'Twas said Mr. Law called her Mary Connynge."

The big fly, deep down in the crystal cage, buzzed on audibly; and to one who heard it, the drone of the lazy wings seemed like the roars of a thousand tempests.

CHAPTER X

MASTER AND MAN

John Law, idle, preoccupied, sat gazing out at the busy scenes of the street before him. The room in which he found himself was one of a suite in that magnificent Hotel de Soisson, bought but recently of the Prince de Carignan for the sum of one million four hundred thousand livres, which had of late been chosen as the temple of Fortuna. The great gardens of this distinguished site were now filled with hundreds of tents and kiosks, which offered quarters for the wild mob of speculators which surged and swirled and fought throughout the narrow avenues, contending for the privilege of buying the latest issue of the priceless shares of the Company of the Indies.

The System was at its height. The bubble was blown to its last limit.

The popular delirium had grown to its last possible degree.

From the window these mad mobs of infuriated human beings might have seemed so many little ants, running about as though their home had been destroyed above their heads. They hastened as though fleeing from the breath of some devouring flame. Surely the point of flame was there, at that focus of Paris, this focus of all Europe; and thrice refined was the quality of this heat, burning out the hearts of those distracted ones.

Yet it was a scene not altogether without its fascinations. Hither came t.i.tled beauties of Paris, peers of the realm, statesmen, high officials, princes of the blood; all these animated but by one purpose--to bid and outbid for these bits of paper, which for the moment meant wealth, luxury, ease, every imaginable desire. It seemed indeed that the world was mad. Tradesmen, artisans, laborers, peasants, jostled the princes and n.o.bility, nor met reproof. Rank was forgotten. Democracy, for the first time on earth, had arrived. All were equal who held equal numbers of these shares. The mind of each was blank to all but one absorbing theme.

Law looked over this familiar scene, indifferent, calm, almost moody, his cheek against his hand, his elbow on his chair. "What was the call, Henri," asked he, at length, of the old Swiss who had, during these stormy times, been so long his faithful attendant. "What was the last quotation that you heard?"

"Your Honor, there are no quotations," replied the attendant. "'Tis only as one is able to buy. The _actions_ of the last issue, three hundred thousand in all, were swept away at a breath at fifteen thousand livres the share."

"Ninety times what their face demands," said Law, impa.s.sively.

"True, some ninety times," said the Swiss. "'Tis said that of this issue the regent has taken over one-third, or one hundred thousand, himself.

'Tis this that makes the price of the other two-thirds run the higher, since 'tis all that the public has to buy."

"Lucky regent," said Law, sententiously. "Plenty would seem to have been his fortune!"

He grimly turned again to his study of the crowds which swarmed among the pavilions before his window. Outside his door he heard knockings and cries, and impatient footfalls, but neither he nor the impa.s.sive Swiss paid to these the least attention. It was to them an old experience.

"Your Honor, the Prince de Conti is in the antechamber and would see you," at length ventured the attendant, after listening for some time with his ear at an aperture in the door.

"Let the Prince de Conti wait," said Law, "and a plague take him for a grasping miser! He has gained enough. Time was when I waited at his door."

"The Abbe Dubois--here is his message pushed beneath the door."

"My dearest enemy," replied Law, calmly. "The old rat may seek another burrow."

"The d.u.c.h.esse de la Rochefoucauld."

"Ah, then, she hath overcome her husband's righteousness of resolution, and would beg a share or so? Let her wait. I find these d.u.c.h.esses the most tiresome animals in the world."

"The Madame de Tencin."

"I can not see the Madame de Tencin."

"A score of dukes and foreign princes. My faith! master, we have never had so large a line of guests as come this morning." The stolid impa.s.siveness of the Swiss seemed on the point of giving way.

"Let them wait," replied Law, evenly as before. "Not one of them would listen to me five years ago. Now I shall listen to them--shall listen to them knocking at my door, as I have knocked at theirs. To-day I am aweary, and not of mind to see any one. Let them wait."

"But what shall I say? What shall I tell them, my master?"

"Tell them nothing. Let them wait."

Thus the crowd of notables packed into the anterooms waited at the door, fuming and execrating, yet not departing. They all awaited the magician, each with the same plea--some hope of favor, of advancement, or of gain.

At last there arose yet a greater tumult in the hall which led to the door. A squad of guardsmen pushed through the packed ranks with the cry: "For the king!" The regent of France stood at the closed door of the man who was still the real ruler of France.

"Open, open, in the name of the king!" cried one, as he beat loudly on the panels.

Law turned languidly toward the attendant. "Henri," said he, "tell them to be more quiet."

"My master, 'tis the regent!" expostulated the other, with somewhat of anxiety in his tones.

"Let him wait," replied Law, coolly. "I have waited for him."

"But, my master, they protest, they clamor--"

"Very well. Let them do so--but stay. If it is indeed the regent, I may as well meet him now and say that which is in my mind. Open the door."

The door swung open and there entered the form of Philippe of Orleans, preceded by his halberdiers and followed close by a rush of humanity which the guards and the Swiss together had much pains to force back into the anteroom.