CHAPTER VIII
THE HAND OF MISFORTUNE
Between the two men, seated opposite each other in the large butsomewhat barely furnished office, the radical differences, both inappearance and mannerisms, perhaps, also, in disposition, had neverbeen more strongly evident. They were partners in business and faceto face with ruin. Stephen Laverick, senior member of the firm,although an air of steadfast gloom had settled upon his clean-cut,powerful countenance, retained even in despair something of thatdogged composure, temperamental and wholly British, which had servedhim well along the road to fortune. Arthur Morrison, the man whosat on the other side of the table, a Jew to his finger-tipsnotwithstanding his altered name, sat like a broken thing, withtears in his terrified eyes, disordered hair, and parchment-paleface. Words had flown from his lips in a continual stream. Hefloundered in his misery, sobbed about it like a child. The handof misfortune had stripped him naked, and one man, at least, sawhim as he really was.
"I can't stand it, Laverick,--I couldn't face them all. It's toocruel--too horrible! Eighteen thousand pounds gone in one week,forty thousand in a month! Forty thousand pounds! Oh, my God!"
He writhed in agony. The man on the other side of the table saidnothing.
"If we could only have held on a little longer! 'Unions' must turn!They will turn! Laverick, have you tried all your friends? Think!Have you tried them all? Twenty thousand pounds would see us throughit. We should get our own money back--I am sure of it. There'sRendell, Laverick. He'd do anything for you. You're always shootingor playing cricket with him. Have you asked him, Laverick? He'dnever miss the money."
"You and I see things differently, Morrison," Laverick answered."Nothing would induce me to borrow money from a friend."
"But at a time like this," Morrison pleaded passionately. "Everyone does it sometimes. He'd be glad to help you. I know he would.Have you ever thought what it will be like, Laverick, to behammered?"
"I have," Laverick admitted wearily. "God knows it seems asterrible a thing to me as it can to you! But if we go down, wemust go down with clean hands. I've no faith in your infernalmarket, and not one penny will I borrow from a friend."
The Jew's face was almost piteous. He stretched himself across thetable. There were genuine tears in his eyes.
"Laverick," he said, "old man, you're wrong. I know you think I'vebeen led away. I've taken you out of our depth, but the onlytrouble has been that we haven't had enough capital, and no backing.Those who stand up will win. They will make money."
"Unfortunately," Laverick remarked, "we cannot stand up. Pleaseunderstand that I will not discuss this matter with you in any way.I will not borrow money from Rendell or any friend. I have askedthe bank and I have asked Pages, who will be our largest creditors.To help us would simply be a business proposition, so far as theyare concerned. As you know, they have refused. If you see any hopein that direction, why don't you try some of your own friends? Forevery one man I know in the House, you have seemed to be bosomfriends with at least twenty."
Morrison groaned.
"Those I know are not that sort of friend," he answered. "They willdrink with you and spend a night out or a week-end at Brighton, butthey do not lend money. If they would, do you think I would mindasking? Why, I would go on my knees to any man who would lend usthe money. I would even kiss his feet. I cannot bear it, Laverick!I cannot! I cannot!"
Laverick said nothing. Words were useless things, wasted upon sucha creature. He eyed his partner with a contempt which he took nopains to conceal. This, then, was the smart young fellow recommendedto him on all sides, a few years ago, as one of the shrewdest youngmen in his own particular department, a person bound to succeed, amoney-maker if ever there was one! Laverick thought of him as heappeared at the office day by day, glossy and immaculately dressed,with a flower in his buttonhole, boots that were a trifle too shiny,hat and coat, gloves and manner, all imitation but all very near thereal thing. What a collapse!
"You're going to stay and see it through?" he whined across the table.
"Certainly," Laverick answered.
The young man buried his face in his hands.
"I can't! I can't!" he moaned. "I couldn't bear seeing all thefellows, hearing them whisper things--oh, Lord! Oh, Lord!...Laverick, we've a few hundreds left. Give me something and let meout of it. You're a stronger sort of man than I am. You can faceit,--I can't! Give me enough to get abroad with, and if ever Ido any good I'll remember it, I will indeed."
Laverick was silent for a moment. His companion watched his faceeagerly. After all, why not let him go? He was no help, no comfort.The very sight of him was contemptible.
"I have paid no money into the bank for several days," Laverick saidslowly. "When they refused to help us, it was, of course, obviousthat they guessed how things were."
"Quite right, quite right!" the young man interrupted feverishly."They would have stuck to it against the overdraft. How much havewe got in the safe?"
"This afternoon," Laverick continued, "I changed all our cheques.You can count the proceeds for yourself. There are, I think, elevenhundred pounds. You can take two hundred and fifty, and you can takethem with you--to any place you like."
The young man was already at the safe. The notes were between them,on the table. He counted quickly with the fingers of a bornmanipulator of money. When he had gathered up two hundred and fiftypounds, Laverick's hand fell upon his.
"No more," he ordered sternly.
"But, my dear fellow," Morrison protested, "half of eleven hundredis five hundred and fifty. Why should we not go halves? That isonly fair, Laverick. It is little enough. We ought to have had agreat deal more."
Laverick pushed him contemptuously away and locked up the remainderof the notes.
"I am letting you take two hundred and fifty pounds of this money,"he said, "for various reasons. For one, I can bear this thingbetter alone. As for the rest of the money, it remains there forthe accountant who liquidates our affairs. I do not propose totouch a penny of it."
The young man buttoned up his coat with an hysterical little laugh.Such ways were not his ways. They were not, indeed, within thelimit of his understanding. But of his partner he had learned onething, at least. The word of Stephen Laverick was the word of truth.He shambled toward the door. On the whole, he was lucky to havegot the two hundred and fifty pounds.
"So long, Laverick," he said from the door. "I'm--I'm sorry."
It was characteristic of him that he did not venture to offer hishand. Laverick nodded, not unkindly. After all, this young man wasas he had been made.
"I wish you good luck, Morrison," he said. "Try South Africa."
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