CHAPTER LXXIII.
MARIE'S FORTUNE.
When Marie Melmotte assured Sir Felix Carbury that her father hadalready endowed her with a large fortune which could not be takenfrom her without her own consent, she spoke no more than the truth.She knew of the matter almost as little as it was possible that sheshould know. As far as reticence on the subject was compatible withthe object he had in view Melmotte had kept from her all knowledgeof the details of the arrangement. But it had been necessary whenthe thing was done to explain, or to pretend to explain, much; andMarie's memory and also her intelligence had been strong beyond herfather's anticipation. He was deriving a very considerable incomefrom a large sum of money which he had invested in foreign funds inher name, and had got her to execute a power of attorney enablinghim to draw this income on her behalf. This he had done fearingshipwreck in the course which he meant to run, and resolved that, letcircumstances go as they might, there should still be left enoughto him of the money which he had realised to enable him to livein comfort and luxury, should he be doomed to live in obscurity,or even in infamy. He had sworn to himself solemnly that under nocircumstances would he allow this money to go back into the vortex ofhis speculations, and hitherto he had been true to his oath. Thoughbankruptcy and apparent ruin might be imminent he would not bolsterup his credit by the use of this money even though it might appearat the moment that the money would be sufficient for the purpose. Ifsuch a day should come, then, with that certain income, he would makehimself happy, if possible, or at any rate luxurious, in whatevercity of the world might know least of his antecedents, and give himthe warmest welcome on behalf of his wealth. Such had been his schemeof life. But he had failed to consider various circumstances. Hisdaughter might be untrue to him, or in the event of her marriagemight fail to release his property,--or it might be that the verymoney should be required to dower his daughter. Or there might cometroubles on him so great that even the certainty of a future incomewould not enable him to bear them. Now, at this present moment,his mind was tortured by great anxiety. Were he to resume thisproperty it would more than enable him to pay all that was due tothe Longestaffes. It would do that and tide him for a time over someother difficulties. Now in regard to the Longestaffes themselves, hecertainly had no desire to depart from the rule which he had madefor himself, on their behalf. Were it necessary that a crash shouldcome they would be as good creditors as any other. But then he waspainfully alive to the fact that something beyond simple indebtednesswas involved in that transaction. He had with his own hand tracedDolly Longestaffe's signature on the letter which he had found in oldMr. Longestaffe's drawer. He had found it in an envelope, addressedby the elder Mr. Longestaffe to Messrs. Slow and Bideawhile, andhe had himself posted this letter in a pillar-box near to his ownhouse. In the execution of this manoeuvre, circumstances had greatlybefriended him. He had become the tenant of Mr. Longestaffe'shouse, and at the same time had only been the joint tenant of Mr.Longestaffe's study,--so that Mr. Longestaffe's papers were almost inhis very hands. To pick a lock was with him an accomplishment longsince learned. But his science in that line did not go so far asto enable him to replace the bolt in its receptacle. He had pickeda lock, had found the letter prepared by Mr. Bideawhile with itsaccompanying envelope, and had then already learned enough of thedomestic circumstances of the Longestaffe family to feel assured thatunless he could assist the expedition of this hitherto uncompletedletter by his own skill, the letter would never reach its intendeddestination. In all this fortune had in some degree befriended him.The circumstances being as they were it was hardly possible that theforgery should be discovered. Even though the young man were to swearthat the signature was not his, even though the old man were to swearthat he had left that drawer properly locked with the unsigned letterin it, still there could be no evidence. People might think. Peoplemight speak. People might feel sure. And then a crash would come. Butthere would still be that ample fortune on which to retire and eatand drink and make merry for the rest of his days.
Then there came annoying complications in his affairs. What hadbeen so easy in reference to that letter which Dolly Longestaffenever would have signed, was less easy but still feasible in anothermatter. Under the joint pressure of immediate need, growing ambition,and increasing audacity it had been done. Then the rumours thatwere spread abroad,--which to Melmotte were serious indeed,--theynamed, at any rate in reference to Dolly Longestaffe, the very thingthat had been done. Now if that, or the like of that, were broughtactually home to him, if twelve jurymen could be got to say that hehad done that thing, of what use then would be all that money? Whenthat fear arose, then there arose also the question whether it mightnot be well to use the money to save him from such ruin, if it mightbe so used. No doubt all danger in that Longestaffe affair mightbe bought off by payment of the price stipulated for the Pickeringproperty. Neither would Dolly Longestaffe nor Squercum, of whom Mr.Melmotte had already heard, concern himself in this matter if themoney claimed were paid. But then the money would be as good aswasted by such a payment, if, as he firmly believed, no sufficientevidence could be produced to prove the thing which he had done.
But the complications were so many! Perhaps in his admiration for thecountry of his adoption Mr. Melmotte had allowed himself to attachhigher privileges to the British aristocracy than do in truth belongto them. He did in his heart believe that could he be known to allthe world as the father-in-law of the eldest son of the Marquis ofAuld Reekie he would become, not really free of the law, but almostsafe from its fangs in regard to such an affair as this. He thoughthe could so use the family with which he would be connected as toforce from it that protection which he would need. And then again, ifhe could tide over this bad time, how glorious would it be to have aBritish Marquis for his son-in-law! Like many others he had failedaltogether to enquire when the pleasure to himself would come, orwhat would be its nature. But he did believe that such a marriagewould add a charm to his life. Now he knew that Lord Nidderdale couldnot be got to marry his daughter without the positive assurance ofabsolute property, but he did think that the income which might thusbe transferred with Marie, though it fell short of that which hadbeen promised, might suffice for the time; and he had already givenproof to the Marquis's lawyer that his daughter was possessed of theproperty in question.
And indeed, there was another complication which had arisen withinthe last few days and which had startled Mr. Melmotte very muchindeed. On a certain morning he had sent for Marie to the study andhad told her that he should require her signature in reference to adeed. She had asked him what deed. He had replied that it would be adocument regarding money and reminded her that she had signed such adeed once before, telling her that it was all in the way of business.It was not necessary that she should ask any more questions as shewould be wanted only to sign the paper. Then Marie astounded him, notmerely by showing him that she understood a great deal more of thetransaction than he had thought,--but also by a positive refusal tosign anything at all. The reader may understand that there had beenmany words between them. "I know, papa. It is that you may have themoney to do what you like with. You have been so unkind to me aboutSir Felix Carbury that I won't do it. If I ever marry the money willbelong to my husband!" His breath almost failed him as he listenedto these words. He did not know whether to approach her with threats,with entreaties, or with blows. Before the interview was over he hadtried all three. He had told her that he could and would put her inprison for conduct so fraudulent. He besought her not to ruin herparent by such monstrous perversity. And at last he took her by botharms and shook her violently. But Marie was quite firm. He might cuther to pieces; but she would sign nothing. "I suppose you thought SirFelix would have had the entire sum," said the father with deridingscorn.
"And he would;--if he had the spirit to take it," answered Marie.
This was another reason for sticking to the Nidderdale plan. Hewould no doubt lose the immediate income, but in doing so he wouldsecure the Marquis. He was theref
ore induced, on weighing in hisnicest-balanced scales the advantages and disadvantages, to leave theLongestaffes unpaid and to let Nidderdale have the money. Not that hecould make up his mind to such a course with any conviction that hewas doing the best for himself. The dangers on all sides were verygreat! But at the present moment audacity recommended itself to him,and this was the boldest stroke. Marie had now said that she wouldaccept Nidderdale,--or the sweep at the crossing.
On Monday morning,--it was on the preceding Thursday that he had madehis famous speech in Parliament,--one of the Bideawhiles had cometo him in the City. He had told Mr. Bideawhile that all the worldknew that just at the present moment money was very "tight" in theCity. "We are not asking for payment of a commercial debt," said Mr.Bideawhile, "but for the price of a considerable property which youhave purchased." Mr. Melmotte had suggested that the characteristicsof the money were the same, let the sum in question have become duehow it might. Then he offered to make the payment in two bills atthree and six months' date, with proper interest allowed. But thisoffer Mr. Bideawhile scouted with indignation, demanding that thetitle-deeds might be restored to them.
"You have no right whatever to demand the title-deeds," saidMelmotte. "You can only claim the sum due, and I have already toldyou how I propose to pay it."
Mr. Bideawhile was nearly beside himself with dismay. In the wholecourse of his business, in all the records of the very respectablefirm to which he belonged, there had never been such a thing as this.Of course Mr. Longestaffe had been the person to blame,--so at leastall the Bideawhiles declared among themselves. He had been so anxiousto have dealings with the man of money that he had insisted that thetitle-deeds should be given up. But then the title-deeds had not beenhis to surrender. The Pickering estate had been the joint property ofhim and his son. The house had been already pulled down, and now thepurchaser offered bills in lieu of the purchase money! "Do you meanto tell me, Mr. Melmotte, that you have not got the money to pay forwhat you have bought, and that nevertheless the title-deeds havealready gone out of your hands?"
"I have property to ten times the value, twenty times the value,thirty times the value," said Melmotte proudly; "but you must knowI should think by this time that a man engaged in large affairscannot always realise such a sum as eighty thousand pounds at a day'snotice." Mr. Bideawhile without using language that was absolutelyvituperative gave Mr. Melmotte to understand that he thought thathe and his client had been robbed, and that he should at once takewhatever severest steps the law put in his power. As Mr. Melmotteshrugged his shoulders and made no further reply, Mr. Bideawhilecould only take his departure.
The attorney, although he was bound to be staunch to his own client,and to his own house in opposition to Mr. Squercum, nevertheless wasbecoming doubtful in his own mind as to the genuineness of the letterwhich Dolly was so persistent in declaring that he had not signed.Mr. Longestaffe himself, who was at any rate an honest man, had givenit as his opinion that Dolly had not signed the letter. His son hadcertainly refused to sign it once, and as far as he knew could havehad no opportunity of signing it since. He was all but sure that hehad left the letter under lock and key in his own drawer in the roomwhich had latterly become Melmotte's study as well as his own. Then,on entering the room in Melmotte's presence,--their friendship at thetime having already ceased,--he found that his drawer was open. Thissame Mr. Bideawhile was with him at the time. "Do you mean to saythat I have opened your drawer?" said Mr. Melmotte. Mr. Longestaffehad become very red in the face and had replied by saying that hecertainly made no such accusation, but as certainly he had not leftthe drawer unlocked. He knew his own habits and was sure that he hadnever left that drawer open in his life. "Then you must have changedthe habits of your life on this occasion," said Mr. Melmotte withspirit. Mr. Longestaffe would trust himself to no other word withinthe house, but, when they were out in the street together, he assuredthe lawyer that certainly that drawer had been left locked, and thatto the best of his belief the letter unsigned had been left withinthe drawer. Mr. Bideawhile could only remark that it was the mostunfortunate circumstance with which he had ever been concerned.
The marriage with Nidderdale would upon the whole be the best thing,if it could only be accomplished. The reader must understand thatthough Mr. Melmotte had allowed himself considerable poetical licencein that statement as to property thirty times as great as the pricewhich he ought to have paid for Pickering, still there was property.The man's speculations had been so great and so wide that he did notreally know what he owned, or what he owed. But he did know that atthe present moment he was driven very hard for large sums. His chieftrust for immediate money was in Cohenlupe, in whose hands had reallybeen the manipulation of the shares of the Mexican railway. He hadtrusted much to Cohenlupe,--more than it had been customary with himto trust to any man. Cohenlupe assured him that nothing could be donewith the railway shares at the present moment. They had fallen underthe panic almost to nothing. Now in the time of his trouble Melmottewanted money from the great railway, but just because he wanted moneythe great railway was worth nothing. Cohenlupe told him that he musttide over the evil hour,--or rather over an evil month. It was atCohenlupe's instigation that he had offered the two bills to Mr.Bideawhile. "Offer 'em again," said Cohenlupe. "He must take thebills sooner or later."
On the Monday afternoon Melmotte met Lord Nidderdale in the lobbyof the House. "Have you seen Marie lately?" he said. Nidderdale hadbeen assured that morning, by his father's lawyer, in his father'spresence, that if he married Miss Melmotte at present he wouldundoubtedly become possessed of an income amounting to something overL5,000 a year. He had intended to get more than that,--and was hardlyprepared to accept Marie at such a price; but then there probablywould be more. No doubt there was a difficulty about Pickering.Melmotte certainly had been raising money. But this might probably bean affair of a few weeks. Melmotte had declared that Pickering shouldbe made over to the young people at the marriage. His father hadrecommended him to get the girl to name a day. The marriage could bebroken off at the last day if the property were not forthcoming.
"I'm going up to your house almost immediately," said Nidderdale.
"You'll find the women at tea to a certainty between five and six,"said Melmotte.
The Way We Live Now Page 75