Capitalists and financiers -- Fiction; Great Britain -- Politics and government -- Fiction; Political fiction
Mr. Clutterbuck read the letter before him twice over, slowly. He
had received allotment to the full amount; the call had been for a
half-crown on 60,000. He did not appreciate how he stood. His mind,
always rather sane than alert, was enfeebled by illness and long
absence from affairs.
"You've been doing something silly," he said again peevishly,
"something damned silly. I don't understand. I'll repudiate it. I don't
understand what you've done--I don't believe it's meant for me at all."
"I humbly did my best, sir; I was assured, really and truly, that a
quarter was the most they'd allow, sir; I truly believed I wasn't
risking more than 15,000 of yours, sir; I did truly."
"Oh! do be quiet," said his principal, as he turned again to the
letter. His head hurt him, and he had a buzzing in the ears. He felt he
wasn't fit for all this. It was a cruel injustice to a man barely on
his feet after a glimpse of the grave.
The Clerk had the wisdom to hold his tongue and to wait. And as he
waited it dawned upon Mr. Clutterbuck that he held 60,000 Congoes; the
Congoes he had heard talked of in the train; the Congoes of which
the papers had been full during the long listless days when he had
lain beside his window looking out into the little sunlit garden; the
Congoes with which every feature of the repeated view from that window
had become grotesquely associated in his invalid imagination. He was
just about to speak again, perhaps to say the something which his Clerk
most dreaded, when he was swamped by a realisation of what had happened.
What Mr. Clutterbuck in health would have seen in five or ten minutes,
Mr. Clutterbuck in convalescence at last grasped, at least as to its
main lines. He remembered two men in the train as he went in, and their
angry discussion: how one who pooh-poohed the whole affair and said
they would not go beyond three before next settling day; and the other,
who was equally confident, swore that they could not fail to pass five
and might touch seven. At the lowest the paper ready to his hands was
60,000 of those same.
He deliberately settled his face and said to the Clerk in an impassive
and altered tone:
"Have you heard what people are offering?"
"Well, sir, it's all talk so far," answered the Clerk. "Some were
saying two and a half, and I heard one gentleman say two and
five-eighths; but it's all talk, sir."
He watched his master narrowly, standing a little behind him and
scrutinising his face as he bent over the letter and read its short
contents for the fourth time. He was well content with the result of
that scrutiny.
As for Mr. Clutterbuck, he now perceived quite clearly (and was
astonished to discern his own quiet acquiescence in the discovery)
that he was at that moment--by some accident which mystified him--the
possessor of over £200,000 in one department of his investments alone.
He sighed profoundly, and said in something like his old voice:
"I supposed they've had their cheque?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account