Ovington's Bank Part 2

"Oh. I don't know!"

"I do. And you'll find I'm right."

"Well, I hope----"

"You may hope what you like!" Sir Charles shuddered at the man's brusqueness. "The Squire's a hard nut to crack, and so you'll find, banker. If you can get him to do a thing he don't wish to do, you'll be the first that ever has. He hates the name of trade as he hates the devil!"

The baronet sat up. "Trade?" he exclaimed. "Oh! but I am not aware, sir, that this is---- Surely a railroad is on another footing?" Alarm was written on his face.

"Quite!" Ovington struck in. "Entirely different! Another thing altogether, Sir Charles. There can be only one opinion on that."

"Of course, if I thought I was entering on anything like----"

"A railroad is on an entirely different footing," the banker repeated, with an angry glance at Wolley, who, unrepentant, continued to stare before him, a sneer on his face. "On an entirely different footing.

Even Mr. Griffin, prejudiced as I venture with all respect to think he is--even he would agree to that. But I have considered the difficulty, gentlemen, and I have no doubt we can surmount it. I propose to see him on Monday, accompanied by Mr. Bourdillon, his great-nephew, and between us I have no doubt that we shall be able to persuade him."

Acherley looked over his shoulder at the secretary, who sat at a small table at Ovington's elbow. "Like the job, Arthur?" he asked.

"I think Sir Charles's example will go a long way with him,"

Bourdillon answered. He was a tactful young man.

The banker put the interruption aside. "I shall see Mr. Griffin on Monday, and with your consent, gentlemen, I propose to offer him the sixth seat at the Board."

"Quite right, quite right," Sir Charles murmured, much relieved.

"He'll not take it!" Wolley persisted.

"My dear sir!"

"You will see I am right."

"Well, there are more ways than one. At any rate I will see him and report to the next meeting, when, with the chairman's approbation, we shall draw up the prospectus. In that connection"--he consulted his paper--"I have already received overtures from customers of the bank for four hundred shares." There was a murmur of applause and Grounds's face betrayed relief. "Then Sir Charles has put himself down for three hundred." He bowed deferentially to Woosenham. "Mr. Acherley for one hundred and fifty, Mr. Wolley has taken up one hundred and twenty-five, and Mr. Grounds--I have not heard from Mr. Grounds, and there is no hurry. No hurry at all!"

But Grounds, feeling that all eyes were on him, and feeling also uncomfortable in his company, took the fence up to which he had been brought. He murmured that he would take one hundred and twenty-five.

"Excellent!" said Ovington. "And I, on behalf of the bank, propose to take four hundred." Again there was a murmur of applause. "So that before we go to the public we have already one-third of the shares taken up. That being so, I feel no doubt that we shall start at a premium before we cut the first sod."

There followed a movement of feet, an outburst of hilarity. For this was what they all wished to hear; this was the point. Chairs were pushed back, and Sir Charles, who was as fearful for his prestige as Grounds for his money, recovered his cheerfulness. Even Acherley became good-humored. "Well, here's to the Valleys Railroad!" he cried.

"Damme, we ought to have something to drink it in!"

The banker ignored this, and Sir Charles spoke. "But as to the seventh seat at the Board? We have not arranged that, I think?" He liked to show that nothing escaped him, and that if he was above business he could still, when he condescended, be a business man.

"No," Ovington agreed. "But I suggest that, with your permission, we hold that over. There may be a big subscriber taking three or four hundred shares?"

"Quite so, quite so."

"Somebody may come forward, and the larger the applications the higher the premium, gentlemen."

Again eyes glistened, and there was a new movement. Woosenham took his leave, bowing to Wolley and Grounds, and shaking hands with the others. Acherley went with him and Ovington accompanied them, bare-headed, to Sir Charles's carriage, which was waiting before the bank. As he returned Wolley waylaid him and drew him into a corner. A conference took place, the banker turning the money in his fob as he listened, his face grave. Presently the clothier entered on a second explanation. In the end Ovington nodded. He called Rodd from the counter and gave an order. He left his customer in the bank.

When he re-entered the parlor Grounds had disappeared, and Arthur, who was bending over his, papers, looked up. "Wolley wanted his notes renewed, I suppose?" he said. The bank had few secrets for this shrewd young man, who had learnt as much of business in eighteen months as Rodd the cas.h.i.+er had learned in ten years, or as Clement Ovington would learn in twenty.

The banker nodded. "And three hundred more on his standing loan."

Arthur whistled. "I wonder you go on carrying him, sir."

"If I cut him loose now----"

"There would be a loss, of course."

"Yes, but that is not all, lad. Where would the Railroad scheme be?

Gone. And that's not all, either. His fall would deal a blow to credit. The money that we are drawing out of the old stockings and the cracked tea-pots would go back to them. Half the clothiers in the Valley would s.h.i.+ver, and neither I nor you would be able to say where the trouble would stop, or who would be in the _Gazette_ next week.

No, we must carry him for the present, and pay for his railway shares too. But we shall hold them, and the profits will eventually come to us. And if the railway is made, it will raise the value of mills and increase our security; so that whether he goes on or we have to take the mills over--which Heaven forbid!--the ground will be firmer. It went well?"

"Splendidly! The way you managed them!" The lad laughed.

"What is it?"

"Grounds asked me if I did not think that you were like the pictures of old Boney. I said I did. The Napoleon of Finance, I told him. Only, I added, you knew a deal better where to stop."

Ovington shook his head at the flatterer, but was pleased with the flattery. More than once, people had stopped him in the street and told him that he was like Napoleon. It was not only that he was stout and of middle height, with his head sunk between his shoulders; but he had the cla.s.sic profile, the waxen complexion, the dominating brow and keen bright eyes, nay, something of the air of power of the great Exile who had died three years before. And he had something, too, of his ambition. Sprung from nothing, a self-made man, he seemed in his neighbors' eyes to have already reached a wonderful eminence. But in his own eyes he was still low on the hill of fortune. He was still a country banker, and new at that. But if the wave of prosperity which was sweeping over the country and which had already wrought so many changes, if this could be taken at the flood, nothing, he believed, was beyond him. He dreamed of a union with Dean's, the old conservative steady-going bank of the town; of branches here and branches there; finally of an amalgamation with a London bank, of Threadneedle Street, and a directors.h.i.+p--but Arthur was speaking.

"You managed Grounds splendidly," he said. "I'll wager he's sweating over what he's done! But do you think--" he looked keenly at the banker as he put the question, for he was eager to know what was in his mind--"the thing will succeed, sir?"

"The railroad?"

"Yes."

"I think that the shares will go to a premium. And I see no reason why the railroad should not do. If I did not think so, I should not be fostering it. It may take time and, of course, more money than we think. But if nothing occurs to dash the public--no, I don't see why it should not succeed. And if it does it will give such an impetus to the trade of the Valleys, three-fourths of which pa.s.ses through our hands, as will repay us many times over."

"I am glad you think so. I was not sure."

"Because I led Grounds a little? Oh, that was fair enough. It does not follow from that, that honesty is not the banker's only policy. Make no mistake about that. But I am going into the house now. Just bring me the note-issue book, will you? I must see how we stand. I shall be in the dining-room."

But when Arthur went into the house a few minutes later he met Betty, who was crossing the hall. "Your father wanted this book," he said.

"Will you take it to him?"

But Betty put her hands behind her back. "Why? Where are you going?"

"You have forgotten that it is Sat.u.r.day. I am going home."

"Horrid Sat.u.r.day! I thought that to-night, with father just back----"

"I wouldn't go? If I don't my mother will think that the skies have fallen. Besides, I am riding Clement's mare, and if I don't go, how is he to come back?"

"As you go at other times. On his feet."

"Ah, well, very soon I shall have a horse of my own. You'll see, Betty. We are all going to make our fortunes now."