The Mysteries of London (Vol. 1-4). George W. M. Reynolds
you bid me!"
"Tell me how I can satisfy this ravenous Italian," said Greenwood, "and I will let you keep the money for six months."
"You say you have to settle with this count for fifteen thousand pounds?" inquired the banker.
Greenwood nodded an affirmative.
"And does he require it all in hard cash?"
"No—he will take the security of any responsible person, or apparently responsible person," added the financier, with a significant smile, "payable in six months."
Tomlinson appeared to reflect profoundly.
His reverie was interrupted by the entrance of old Martin, taking snuff more vehemently than ever.
The cashier whispered something in the banker's ear, and then again retired.
"Seven hundred and fifty more gone!" cried Tomlinson: "and now, Greenwood, there remains in the safe but a fraction more than your two thousand pounds. Dictate your own terms!"
This was precisely the point to which the financier was anxious to arrive.
"Listen," he said, playing with his watch-chain. "This Count Alteroni will accept of you as his debtor instead of me. Take the responsibility off me on to your own shoulders, and I make you a present of the two thousand pounds!"
"What!" ejaculated Tomlinson; "incur a liability of fifteen thousand to this count! Greenwood, you never can be serious?"
"I never was more serious in my life," returned the financier coolly. "If you fail before the six months have elapsed, fifteen thousand more or less on your books will be nothing: if you contrive to carry on the establishment until the expiration of that period, I will help you out of the dilemma."
"You are not reasonable—you are anxious to crush me at once!" cried Tomlinson. "Well, be it so, Mr. Greenwood! Take your two thousand pounds——"
"And leave you to put up a notice on your doors—eh?" said Greenwood, still playing with his watch-chain.
"Ah! my God—has it come to this?" exclaimed the banker. "Ruin—disgrace—and beggary, all in one day! But better that than submit to such terms those which you dictate."
With these words he rang the bell violently.
Old Martin immediately made his appearance.
"Mr. Martin," said Tomlinson, affecting a calmness which he was far from feeling, "bring two thousand pounds for Mr. Greenwood."
"It can't be done," growled Michael, taking a huge pinch of snuff.
"Can't be done?" ejaculated the banker.
"No," answered the old man, doggedly: "just paid away four hundred and sixty-five more. There is'nt two thousand in the safe."
Tomlinson walked once up the room; then, turning to Greenwood, he said, "I will accept your proposal. Mr. Martin," he added, addressing the cashier, "you can retire: I will settle this matter with Mr. Greenwood."
The old man withdrew.
"When, where, and how is this business to be arranged?" demanded Tomlinson, after a short pause.
"The count is to call at my house at twelve. I have left a note to request him to come on hither."
"You had, then, already arranged this matter in your mind?" said the banker, ironically.
"Certainly," answered Greenwood, with his usual coolness. "I knew you would relieve me of this obligation; because I shall be enabled in return to afford you that assistance of which you stand so much in need."
"I must throw myself upon your generosity," said Tomlinson. "It is now twelve: the count will soon be here."
Half an hour passed away; and the Italian nobleman made his appearance.
"You see that I have kept my word, count," exclaimed Mr. Greenwood, with an ironical smile of triumph. "Mr. Tomlinson holds in his hands certain funds of mine, which, according to the terms of agreement between us, he is to retain in his possession and use for a period of six months and six days from the present day, at an interest of four per cent. If you, Count Alteroni, be willing to accept a transfer of fifteen thousand pounds of such funds in Mr. Tomlinson's hands from my name to your own, the bargain can be completed this moment."
"I cannot hesitate, Mr. Greenwood," said the count, "to accept a guarantee of such known stability at the name of Mr. Tomlinson."
"Then all that remains to be done," exclaimed the financier, "is for you to return me my acknowledgment for the amount specified, and for Mr. Tomlinson to give you his in its place. Mr. Tomlinson has already received my written authority for the transfer."
The business was settled as Mr. Greenwood proposed. The count returned the financier his receipt, and accepted one from the banker.
"Now, that this is concluded, count," said Mr. Greenwood, placing the receipt in his pocket-book, "I hope that our friendship will continue uninterrupted."
"Pardon me, sir," returned the count, his features assuming a stern expression: "although I am bound to admit that you have not wronged me in respect to money, you have dared to talk to me of my daughter, who is innocence and purity itself."
"Count Alteroni," began Mr. Greenwood, "I am not aware——"
"Silence, sir!" cried the Italian noble, imperatively: "I have but one word more to say. Circumstances have revealed to me your profligate character; and never can I be too thankful that my daughter should have escaped an alliance with a man who bribes his agents to administer opiate drugs to an unprotected female for the vilest of purposes. Mr. Tomlinson," added the count, "pardon me for having used such language in your apartment, and in your presence."
Count Alteroni bowed politely to the banker, and, darting a withering glance of mingled contempt and indignation upon the abashed and astounded Greenwood, took his departure.
"He talks of things which are quite new to me," said Greenwood, recovering an outward appearance of composure, though inwardly he was chagrined beyond description.
Tomlinson made no reply: he was too much occupied with his own affairs to be able to afford attention to those of others.
Greenwood shortly took his leave—delighted at having effectually settled his pecuniary obligation with the count, in such a manner that it could never again be the means of molestation in respect to himself—but vexed at the discovery which the Italian nobleman had evidently made in respect to his conduct towards Eliza Sydney.
Immediately after Mr. Greenwood had left the bank-parlour, old Michael entered. This time he carried his snuff-box open in his left hand; and at every two paces he took a copious pinch with the fore-finger and thumb of his right. This was a fearful omen; and Tomlinson trembled.
"Well, Michael—well?"
"Not a deposit this morning. Draughts come in like wild-fire," said the old cashier. "There is but a hundred pounds left in the safe!"
"A hundred pounds!" ejaculated the banker, clasping his hands together: "and is it come to this at length, Michael?"
"Yes," said the cashier, gruffly.
"Then let us post a notice at once," cried Tomlinson: "the establishment must be closed without another moment's delay."
"Will you write out the notice of stoppage of payment, or shall I?" inquired Michael.
"Do it yourself, my good old friend—do it for me!" said the banker, whose countenance was ashy pale, and whose limbs trembled under him, as if he expected the officers of justice to drag him to a place of execution.
The old cashier seated himself at the table, and wrote out the announcement that the bank was unfortunately compelled to suspend its payments. He then read it to the ruined man who was now pacing the apartment with agitated steps.
"Will that do?"