IX
"THE ANGLO-AMERICAN HOTELS LIMITED"
I was dying, so they said: two physicians and my nurse--Marion Le Mar.They informed me, very gravely and gently, and the explicit motive oftheir confidence was that I might have time to make my peace withheaven, and settle my affairs with men. It was easy to believe them. Iwas so feeble. When the men of medicine had gone, Marion surprised meby throwing herself down upon her knees beside my bed and bursting intothe most passionate fit of weeping I have ever witnessed. As I couldnot calm her, I occupied the time of her abandonment in considering howI might provide best for her future. I thought of a will, but dismissedthe idea, because of its publicity. Marion could not afford toadvertise her whereabouts to our enemies. I decided at last to withdrawall my money and the jewels from the bank and give them to her while Ilived. When, therefore, she grew tranquil, I made her write a letterand a cheque, both of which, with exhausting effort, I contrived tosign. But she resolutely declined to leave me for a moment, so I wascompelled to send a waiter on the errand. He was, by good chance, anhonest man, and an hour later my bed was strewn with bank-notes andwith flashing gems.
But Marion would not take them. She implored me, for my soul's sake andher satisfaction, to make full restoration to the man I hadblackmailed, and so vehemently and persistently did she entreat methat, in very weakness, I at length gave way, only stipulating that sheshould retain sufficient money to pay the debts my illness hadincurred, and to keep her for a little while till she should findemployment. While she was packing up the jewels to send to Sir CharlesVenner, I fell asleep, and when I awoke I was once more a pauper.
It was very curious. From that instant I grew better, and hour by hourmy strength increased. On the evening of the fourth day, thereafter, Iarrived, after much reflection, at the conclusion that Marion hadprevailed upon the physicians to pretend that I was dying in order torob me of the jewels. I also believed her story that she had restoredthem to Sir Charles to be a falsehood, and I entertained no doubtwhatever but that she would presently desert and leave me to my fate.Naturally, I kept these opinions to myself. It was useless to discussthem, and I told myself that such a course would only hasten herdeparture. I thought her something like a fiend in human form, but shewas very beautiful, and I loved her so madly that all I wished for inthe world was to retain her by my side as long as possible. With thatend in view, I played the hypocrite, and let her think me every simplekind of fool she wished. I derived a bitter-sweet satisfaction from thegame, for on her part she pretended to be ardently attached to me. Wespent the hours building castles in the air, weaving pretty fancies oflove in a cottage, and a long life shared together. She said she had afriend, an old kind-hearted gentleman, whom she could depend upon tofind me some employment, as soon as I was perfectly restored to health.I was then to turn over a new leaf, and live an honest, hard-workinglife, and she would be my wife, my comforter, my devoted helpmate, tothe end. It was a very pretty dream, but the strange and bitter featureof it was that I sighed for it to come true. I was tired of myrascality. My long illness had made a changed man of me, and if I couldhave believed in Marion's avowals, I would have been as happy as a kingto mend my ways for her sweet sake, and never do a shady thing again.Once or twice I tried my best to induce her to explain to me themysteries connected with Sir Charles Venner's secret society ofconsumptives which I had been unable to fathom. On that subject,however, she maintained an adamantine reticence, and when I ventured topress her in love's name, she entreated me in tears to forbear, sayingthat she was bound by an oath which she could not break. Her art wasperfect, for she used to add: "How, dear Agar, could you trust me, ifyou proved me capable of breaking a solemn oath, sworn to God?"
I could only have effectually answered her by voicing my convictions ofher baseness, and that would have driven her away. On the contrary, Ipraised her constancy, and received my reward from the exquisitelyassumed love-light in her glorious brown eyes. The drama took anotherweek to play out. By that time I was quite out of danger, and, althoughstill painfully feeble, my physician assured me that I should soon beable to leave my bed. Marion's joy at that knew no bounds. She coveredme with kisses, and insisted that she should write forthwith to her oldfriend, to inform him of her whereabouts, and the hopes she reposed inhim for our happiness and welfare.
"What is his name, sweetheart?" I asked. I had not troubled to inquirebefore.
She gave me a bright smile. "I'll tell you on our wedding-day," shereplied. "It is a little surprise that I am keeping for you, dear."
My thought was: "She is, after all, a poor hand at invention!" I feltconvinced that she was simply paving the way with her letter for herescape, and when she went out to post it, I cried aloud in mybitterness of spirit--"To-morrow morning there will come a telegram,and she will leave me!"
So it happened! She was seated by my bed, reading me the morningjournals, when, of a sudden, a knock sounded on the door, and a waiterentered with a wire upon a salver. "For Nurse Hampton!" he announced.Such was the name she had assumed when first we came to the hotel.
Marion started up with a little cry of delight that echoed itself inanguish in my heart. I knew what that envelope contained as well asshe. Holding my breath, I watched her with critical intentness. But Ihad no fault to find. To the very last she maintained her part, playingit like the unimaginably perfect actress that she was. Tearing it open,she read its contents with an expression of happy expectation, whichquickly changed before my eyes to fear and passionate concern.
"Mon Dieu!" she gasped, and crushing up the paper in her hand, sheturned to me. "Agar!" she cried, "he is very ill, dying they say, andhe needs me. I must go to him at once!"
I had expected it, expected it for days, and yet, none the less, theblow was stunning when it fell. Indeed, in my experience, it is alwaysthe long-prevised calamity which causes most dismay. For a while Icould not speak, and turning my head I weakly closed my eyes in aneffort to conceal the tears which sprang unbidden there.
But when she stooped and tried to kiss me, her falseness roused asudden madness in my breast. Flinging her aside, I started upright inthe bed, and all my pent-up scorn found vent. Passion lent me strengthto strip her baseness bare, and no whit did I spare her. "Go, youJade!" I muttered at the last, for I was failing. "Go! and take withyou my curse! It is years since I have breathed a prayer--but now Ipray to God that never may I see your traitoress face again!"
She stood before me, pale as death, her great eyes blazing in her head.But not one word did she reply, and when I fell exhausted on thepillows, she turned with one long glance, and slowly glided from theroom.
Five minutes later, she returned, gowned for the street, but I merelyglanced at her, then closed my eyes in icy scorn. In perfect silenceshe approached the bed and placed some parcel lightly on the cover-lid.I heard her steps retreat, and presently the door was very softlyclosed.
Sure that she was gone, I started up in order to investigate her latestact. The parcel contained an account sheet covered with her writing,which showed me that my debts to date approached one hundred pounds.Within the cover were banknotes for two hundred.
It seemed that my vituperations had stung to life in her some lingeringspark of shame. Drearily I congratulated myself, and tried to findcomfort in the thought that, at all events, I should not be obliged torecommence my battle with the world entirely penniless. But I was sickat heart, sick and absolutely hopeless.
The next week passed and left me more pronouncedly improved in health,but desperate in mind; so desperate that I was fit for any villainy.For still another week I nursed myself, hating to see my little stockof money dwindle, but not daring to begin the struggle without astock-in-trade of strength.
With that at length acquired, I quitted the hotel and went to BrutonStreet, where I resolved to take up my abode until, by dint of luck orcraft, I might repair my scattered fortunes.
My first act was to disguise myself as a professional and somewhatportly gentleman. For a model I too
k the physician who had recentlyattended me, and as I had closely and frequently remarked his ways, Iwas able to reproduce him with nice enough fidelity. Having armedmyself with a revolver, I employed a cab and drove straightway to SirCharles Venner's residence in Harley Street, fiercely determined tosettle my account with him at once, for good and all. To myastonishment, however, I found the place in the hands of anothersurgeon, who curtly informed me that Sir Charles Venner, several weeksago, had sold his practice, and gone abroad to parts unknown. I drovethence to Dr. Fulton's house, and a similar story was related there.Thoroughly enraged, I went to my old master's place in Curzon Street.The lackey, who opened the door, seemed much astonished at my question.
"Why, sir," said he, "Lady Farmborough lives here now. Sir WilliamDagmar sold his lease to her before he went abroad, more than a monthago!"
I turned away in growing despair, beginning at last to perceive thatthe whole of the secret society must have fled from England as soon asthey had heard of my escape from Venner's hands. But I determined toleave no point of hope untried, and my next visit was to the KingsmereHospital for Consumptives. It was shut up, and the walls were plasteredover with placards--"To Let." I then successively attacked the housesof the remaining members still unaccounted for, and ere the day wasdone, I discovered that Mr. Humphreys had set out upon a tour of Asia,and that Mr. Nevil Pardoe had died suddenly upon the morning after myescape from Staines.
My occupation was gone--reft from my hand! As a blackmailer, I might aswell incontinently close my shutters, for there was not a soul left inGreat Britain upon whom I could levy for either money or revenge, and Ihad no funds to pursue them on a wild-goose chase abroad.
I felt that the world was going very badly with me when I reached theend of my discoveries, but my cup was not yet full. While waiting formy dinner, at a restaurant in Jermyn Street, I picked up, by chance,the _Daily Chronicle_, to while away the time and rid my mind of itsunwelcome thoughts. It was neatly folded in a small square compass, andas I smoothed it out to turn the page, a poignantly familiar name thatwas planted in the marriage column caught my eye. A second later,trembling with passion, I read the following announcement:--
"Dagmar--Le Mar. On the -- instant, at the bridegroom's residence,Cairo, by the Rev. Francois Long, S.J., William Dagmar, of Flag HillPark, Newhaven, fourth baronet, to Marion, only daughter of the lateColonel Comte Hypolite Le Mar, Huitieme Regiment, Chasseurs d'Afrique."
I tore the paper into shreds, and in the act I fatuously thought that Ihad torn the image of that false fair woman from my heart. At allevents, I contrived to eat a very hearty dinner, and before I came tocoffee, I had already formed a plan to make myself a millionaire.
I should explain that at the time of which I now write, the historicalAmerican financial invasion of Great Britain was in full blast. Thebillionaire Yankee magnate, J. Stelfox Steele, at the head of hisomnivorous trust, had already succeeded in enfolding within hisoctopus-like tentacles an alarming number of England's richestcommercial industries. Not content with having secured our railways,tramways and shipping, his latest achievement had been to form a"combine" of hotel and brewery proprietaries, with the result thattwo-thirds of the breweries, and almost every important and fashionablehotel within the confines of the kingdom were conducted under hisdirection, while the entire liquor traffic was absolutely in his grip.This prodigious organization Mr. Stelfox Steele had named--"TheAnglo-American Hotels Limited," probably in a spirit of derision, foralthough all the property was English, the major portion of the profitswere designed to travel into Yankee pockets. It had scarcely beenregistered a company before the British public began to regard it withboth fear and loathing, for its first and immediate work of consequencehad been slightly to raise the price of beer, and at the same timelargely to increase the cost of living in hotels. In palace,public-house and thoroughfares, it constituted the topic of the hour.The fact is, it affected everyone, the highest and the lowest in theland alike, and very seldom could two men foregather for longer thanfive minutes without the exciting subject being introduced. As the"combine" had, to some extent, victimised me during my residence at theColonnade Hotel, I shared in the popular indignation, and during myconvalescence I had taken pains to make myself thoroughly acquaintedwith its construction, policy and aims, and I had carefully digestedeverything that had been published concerning its promoters. Mr.Stelfox Steele's sudden and brilliant appearance in the financialfirmament, and his consequent magnificent and uninterruptedlysuccessful career, had, moreover, completely captivated my romanticfancy, and I was quite anxious to hear as much about him as I could.For that reason I became speedily interested in the conversation of twogentlemen who sat at the adjoining table while I dined.
They were of interesting appearance, certainly; portly, conventional,bald-headed souls, both; typical men of business, in a largeway--perhaps stockbrokers; but the matter of their talk was decidedlyexciting and suggestive to a person like myself.
"What is this Stelfox Steele like to look at, Gregson? You know him,don't you?" were the first words that attracted my attention, andthereafter I did not lose a syllable.
"Well!" replied the other, "I know him in a way. That is to say, I havemet him once or twice in business, though I don't suppose he wouldrecognise me if we passed each other in the street ..."
"Oh! he is that sort, is he?"
"Now, Scott, you go too fast. I did not mean you to infer he is a snob.But he must meet a lot of people, don't you know, and they say hismemory for faces is not excellent."
"Is he like his photographs?"
"He is their living image."
"Then he is no Adonis, Greg."
"N--no," said Gregson, rather doubtfully. "But I'd not call him an uglyman, Scott. There is an air of quiet force about the fellow that markshim from the crowd. And he has some quaint mannerisms, too, that arenot unpleasing."
"For instance?"
"Well, he grips your hand very hard and looks very straight into youreyes, when he meets you. It quite startles one at first, but, for mypart, I don't dislike it. It seems honest, if it isn't. Then again,when he talks, he invariably drops his voice and half closes his eyes,no matter what the subject is, just as though he were making you animportant confidence. In my opinion he owes a good deal of his successto those two apparent trifles. There's a lot in manner, Scott; morethan most people imagine, and his manner simply provokes trust."
"Good Lord, Gregson, you don't mean to say you like the beast!"
"Like him!" echoed the other, raising his glass. "Why, here's to hisconfusion. We'll soon be all his bond-slaves, if he has his way! You'veheard about his latest scheme, to corner wolfram, haven't you?"
"Please the pigs," muttered Scott, "something will break him before hebrings that off. Fancy the villain daring to even dream of interferingwith the working of our arsenals. It's bounce, of course, but whattremendous bounce!"
"If he succeeds," said Gregson, gloomily, "the whole world might aswell become American citizens at once. Without wolfram we'll not beable to provide our ships with armour-plate, nor manufacture a singlebig gun, except by the gracious favour of J. Stelfox Steele."
"Is it as bad as that?"
"Very nearly. It is impossible to harden steel properly withoutwolfram. Professor Bryant told me so to-day!"
"The fellow is a public danger--by Jove!"
"Say, rather a national menace, and you will not overstate the case. Itell you what, Scott, whoever tripped him up would deserve well of hiscountry."
"I'd subscribe to a monument for such an one--by gad!"
I felt inclined to cry out at this juncture: "Sirs, look at me, the manis found!" But I restrained the impulse, despite the fact that I wasthoroughly elated, and perfectly persuaded too that I had a mission tofulfil in life to save my country.
An hour later, I returned to Bruton Street, burdened with a largebundle of photographs, which I had purchased on the road. Theyrepresented J. Stelfox Steele, and in every conceivable posture andattitude w
hich a human being can assume. I set them about my room andbegan earnest study. The head was large, and yet rather brainy thanintellectual, and the face argued a mind rather active than reflective.The eyes were well-shaped and neither prominent nor deep-set. The nosewas straight and shapely, like my own. Several photographs smiled.These evidenced him to possess a long, white set of teeth. The upperlip was long and hairless, ergo a tenacious disposition. The lower wasthin and compressed--it helped his square, clean-shaven chin to expressa powerful determination. For the rest he wore a short, thick, grizzledcrop of hair.
A strong, well-balanced countenance upon the whole, and eminently easyto impersonate. Indeed, fortune favoured me more than her wont, for myears and shape of face resembled his in an extraordinary degree. Ispent two hours, however, in careful thought and anxious contemplationbefore I allowed my wish to have its way. I even tried to catch hisbent of mind from his counterfeit presentments, so that nothing mightbe lacking in my intended effort. At last I arose, and opening adrawer, examined my collection of false teeth. I soon found the set Iwanted, and in a trice made change with those I wore. I wanted tosurprise myself, so I rigidly refrained from glancing at a mirror. Mynext act was to explore my wig-box, and presently my head was clothed.Closing my eyes, I spurred my will, and twisted suddenly the featuresthat required such exercise. Finally, I stepped before the glass. J.Stelfox Steele looked back at me--and that result I had obtainedwithout having employed either paint, grease-pot, or other artificethan those I have described. I almost wept with joy, I felt sogratified, for already, in my dreams, I saw myself a millionaire.
My next week was a very busy one. I procured two suits of clothes, suchas it was notorious that the great magnate always wore. I practisedhalf-a-dozen hours each day before my mirror, until I had his face byheart and could imitate it swimmingly. And last, but not least, Ipurchased several piles of newspapers that had recorded J. StelfoxSteele's doings and sayings, manners and habits of life, over whichaccounts I pored like an ardent student in my leisure hours.
At the end of that period I was perfectly self-confident and anxious tocommence my task. I was compelled, however, by force of circumstance,to postpone the battle for awhile, because Mr. Stelfox Steele hadunexpectedly arrived in London. He came, according to the papers--whichwere full of him--to instal one of his co-adjutor millionaires, namedSampson Y. May, as supreme head of the Anglo-American Hotels Limited,during his temporary absence in South America, whither he proposed toproceed immediately, in order to purchase some large tracts ofwolfram-bearing territory, whose control he needed for the perfectionof the trust he was then engaged in forming.
I was at first disgusted at the delay, but not for long. Somethingcaught me by the throat and said to me: "You fool, here is theopportunity of your life. Contrive to see the man, and then you will bebetter able to secure your chances of impersonating him successfully."
To think was to act. It was then early morning. By ten o'clock I wouldhave passed muster anywhere as a good-looking, languid, idle, elderlyclubman. I wore a grey moustache, and side levers; a slightly darkerwig and a monocle. I was, in fact, Lord Algernon Darnley. A "while youwait" printer inscribed the name upon some pasteboards, armed withwhich, I drove to the office of the Anglo-American Hotels Limited.
My card was deferentially received, but a polite secretary informed methat it would be impossible for the magnate to see me without aprearranged appointment.
"I have one," I drawled, unabashed by the rebuff, "Mr. Steeleparticularly requested me, through a common acquaintance, to call."
The secretary departed and returned. "Mr. Steele is exceedingly busy,"he declared. "He will be glad if you will state your business to me."
"It's private," I said calmly. "I won't keep him long. I have adocument to give him, that's all, but it's got to be placed in hishands."
I was requested to wait five minutes. I waited an hour, and was at lastushered to the great man's presence.
My first thought was: "How like his photographs!" But he was a tallerman than I by a good two inches. Gregson was quite right. He looked mein the eyes very straight and keenly, and he gave my hand an energeticsqueeze.
"Are we acquainted?" he demanded, in sharp, incisive tones, and heimmediately sat down, pointing briskly to a chair. "Now, what's yourbusiness?"
His voice was almost free from twang, but peculiar, all the same. I hadto pinch my leg to keep from mimicking it to his face.
"I fibbed," I began coolly, drawling my words to suit my character. "Icould have got an introduction easily, but what's the use when a fibwould do the trick as well, and quicker, probably. I wanted to see you,don't you know!"
He gave a quick smile, and a quicker, though slighter frown. "Well," hesaid, "you are here, what can I do for you? I can only spare you sixtyseconds!" He took out his watch.
"I've a hundred thousand lying idle," I drawled.
"Pounds or dollars?" He half-closed his eyes, and his tones, thoughrapid, dropped to a murmur.
"Pounds."
"Well, sir, that is, Lord Darnley?"
"I thought of Anglo-American Hotels?" said I.
"You could not do better," he declared.
"Thanks!" I stood up. "I'm much obliged to you. Good-day!"
A bell tinkled, we shook hands, and I marched off thoroughly delighted.I had his voice now, and I knew his height;--my two weak points wereremedied.
On the following Sunday evening, at midnight, he set out for New York,and I was one of the crowd that watched him catch his train at EustonStation. Next morning I searched the papers through and through, butall they had to say of Mr. Steele was that he had sailed. Afterbreakfast I packed my trunk and drove to a little unfrequented hotel inLambert Road, where, _in propria persona_, I engaged a bedroom and asitting-room upon the first floor, in my own name--Agar Hume. About anhour later a well-dressed elderly gentleman slipped out of my bedroom,and, descending the stairs, stepped into the street. This personordered a hansom to take him to the City, giving the driver the addressof a substantial firm of stockbrokers--named Ducker and Sims. I hadpreviously taken care to ascertain that the firm in question had neverbeen in any way connected with J. Stelfox-Steele.
Upon arrival I begged to be allowed an immediate private interview withone of the partners, pretending that my business was of the utmosturgency. My prayer was granted, and I was conducted into a massivelyfurnished office, where a hawk-faced man, of about forty years of age,was seated at a desk dictating letters to an ancient shorthand writer.
"Mr. Ducker?" I asked, as he glanced up.
"Mr. Ducker is at present in Chicago. My name is Sims." he replied."Kindly take that chair. By the way, have I the honour of youracquaintance?"
"No, Mr. Sims; my name is Brown."
"Ah! And you wished to see me----"
"On private business, extremely important business, Mr. Sims." Iglanced suggestively at the ancient shorthand writer, who appeared tobe dozing.
"My confidential clerk, Mr. Brown," explained Mr. Sims. "You may speakbefore him."
"Excuse me," said I, "I am merely a messenger, and my directions areparticular."
Mr. Sims raised his eyebrows, and curtly commanded his satellite toleave the room. The ancient awoke with a start, and nervously departed.
"May I lock the door?" I asked.
"Your business must be mighty curious, Mr. Brown," he replied, lookingutterly astonished.
"It is," I answered simply, looking straight into his eyes.
He sprang to his feet, crossed the room, and locked the door.
"Now?" said he, returning.
"Thank you, Mr. Sims."
"Well?"
"It is my province to convince you, sir, that by momentarilydisregarding the ordinary rules of courtesy which hold in yourprofession, you may secure a client whose business will yield yougreater profit than that of any dozen others whom you have. Nay, sir, Ispeak on hearsay, but advisedly, for my master is well aware of thesubstantial undertakings of your firm."
&n
bsp; "Your master must be a large operator," he muttered with a gasp.
I smiled. "He is, indeed."
"And his name?"
"I am forbidden to relate it, sir."
He frowned and gazed at me, the most puzzled and astonished man inLondon.
"What do you want, then," he demanded.
"My master wishes you to call upon him, Mr. Sims. He is unable to visityou, for reasons which he will personally explain if you will complywith his request!"
"This is most unusual!" he replied. "Where is he to be found?"
"I can only tell you, sir, if you consent to give me your word, as aman of honour, that you will go to see him at three o'clock thisafternoon. I should tell you, Mr. Sims, that if you refuse, your ownwill be the only disadvantage."
"I--I--I never heard of such a thing in my life!" he stammered."But--but--in any case, I cannot go--at three o'clock. I have apressing business engagement."
I got to my feet, smiling contemptuously. "Then I have only to thankyou for your patience, Mr. Sims," I said, with an expressive shouldershrug. "Good-morning, sir!"
"I could go at four!" he cried, of a sudden.
I glanced at him, and perceived that the day was mine. Curiosity wassimply eating the man. I smiled and, shook my head. "My master saidThree!"
"With a great effort, I could make it half-past. What do you say, Mr.Brown; shall we split the difference?"
"I cannot, Mr. Sims. I would be dismissed at once."
"Then, three."
"And your word of honour, sir?"
He nodded. I liked that nod.
"You will find my master at the Golden Grove Hotel, in Lambert Road," Isaid. "Kindly ask for Mr. Agar Hume."
His face fell, and he looked absurdly disappointed.
"Agar Hume! Lambert Road!" he muttered in amazed disgust.
"Believe me, sir, it is unwise to judge men by the sounds of names,which may or not belong to them. Stelfox Steele imparts a strangelyfurtive signification to the ear, and yet its owner is about therichest man and biggest operator on our little globe. I congratulateyou upon your determination. A little later you will congratulateyourself. But in the meanwhile, let me recommend you to keep ourinterview a secret even from your partner. My master will be bestpleased so. Good-morning, Mr. Sims!"
"One second!" he gasped. "Am I to understand--er--that--er--Mr. StelfoxSteele----"
"Is on his way to America," I interrupted sharply. "Good-morning, sir!"Whereupon, hastily unfastening the door, I made my escape before he hadtime to say another word.
After bolting an apology for a lunch, I drove back to Lambert Road in afourwheeler. During the journey, I contrived to become Agar Hume again,for I did not wish the people in my little inn to see a dozen differentpersons using my room as if it belonged to them. The driver stared atme aghast when I alighted. He had taken up an old man, and he put downa young one. I detest sharp-eyed cab-drivers, they are a publicnuisance.
It was striking two as I entered my bedroom. At half-past, I resembledJ. Stelfox Steele as closely as I wished. In order to make up thedifference in our heights, I was obliged to resort to a ratherinconvenient trick. I took off my bed-clothes and spread them doubledon the floor of my sitting-room, at my own side of the table. These Icovered with mats, and set my chair over all. I sprang thus two inches,in as many minutes, whether seated or erect, but I could not leave mypedestal, without losing those same inches; wherefore theinconvenience. I dislike tricks of that sort, but it is my rule neverto neglect any detail that I am aware of, and as my pedestal was hiddenby the table-cloth, and, moreover, I could not perceive any necessityto walk about during the forthcoming interview, I had really verylittle to grumble at. My last act was to don a huge brown beard, and apair of goggles. These made me look like an old hayseed farmer, but J.Stelfox Steele was underneath the disguise waiting to disclose himself.When it wanted ten minutes to the hour, I left my bedroom, the door ofwhich I locked, entered my sitting-room, and, mounting my pedestal, Isat down to wait. I had previously arranged a screen before the outerdoor, so that the servant who would show up Mr. Sims might not look inand remark my latest transformation.
I mention these details, not because they were of any urgent moment,but to evidence the amount of attention and forethought which I hadbestowed upon the business in hand. The fact is, in my experience, itis always some absurdly finicking trifle, which, when neglected, bringsdisaster to the greatest undertakings. I was once hissed off the stageat Newcastle-on-Tyne, when attempting to impersonate Mr. Gladstone,because, forsooth, although my disguise was elsewise perfect, I had notremembered to change a pair of sharp-toed boots which I had worn a fewminutes earlier while imitating Mr. Greatorex, a dandified celebrity oflocal fame. That failure had been a very bitter pill to swallow at thetime, but it was of more real use to me than all my triumphs puttogether, and I never forgot the lesson that it inculcated.
Mr. Sims was only two minutes late. In answer to my brisk "come in, andshut the door behind you!" he entered silently, but as he turned thecorner of the screen and caught sight of my bearded face, he uttered anunpremeditated little nervous laugh. "Just such a laugh any man mightinvoluntarily utter, who had been wishing, but not expecting, theimprobable to happen!" thought I. His laugh, translated into words,said this--"I never really believed you could be Stelfox Steele, Mr.Agar Hume, in spite of what your wily secretary tried to hint!"
I stood up, and glared at him through my goggles.
"Mr. Sims?" I demanded.
He bowed, measuring me with a sweeping hawk-sharp glance.
"Shake!" I said, of a sudden, after a full minute's silence, andbriskly extended my hand.
He responded somewhat slowly and doubtfully to my invitation. But Itore off my goggles, and looking him straight and keenly in the eyes,seized his hand. I squeezed it with all my strength, then pointed to achair.
He obeyed with a wince, wringing his hand the while.
"Really, Mr. Hume," he began, with a deprecating frown, "I am at aloss----"
"One second!" I interrupted, and deftly removed my beard.
He gave me one quick astonished look, then sprang to his feet, his eyesalight, his face flushing with excitement.
"Is it possible?" he cried.
"You know me," I demanded.
"Why sir, of course!"
"But we have never met!" I cried, frowning blackly.
"No, sir, no," he responded, hastily. "But Mr. Stelfox Steele's face isas familiar to the public as that of Mr. Chamberlain. I am glad to meetyou, sir."
I nodded and sat down. "Pray resume your seat, Mr. Sims." He obeyed.
I leaned across the table and beckoned with my hand. Next moment ourheads were almost touching.
"You are wondering," said I.
"Yes," he answered frankly.
"I am supposed to be on my way to New York," I went on, in very lowtones. "I am being impersonated on the steamer by one of my clerks, whowill keep his cabin all the way. Before he arrives at the otherside--all will be over. I have taken every precaution against failure.I cannot, shall not fail, Mr. Sims, unless you fail me."
"Some big coup on exchange, I presume?" he muttered, "and a lone hand,too--eh?"
"Exactly! But you are still wondering--speak!"
He bit his lips. "It--is the honour you have paid me--me!" hestammered. "Messrs. Max and Humphreys are your brokers, I believe."
"And I have no fault to find with them," I answered quickly, "exceptthat Sampson May, Vanderwill, and most of my other associates also dealwith them. You understand?"
"Ah!" he cried, "I see! You'll be wanting me to bear stocks, eh, Mr.Steele?"
I smiled in commendation of his shrewdness. "Well, Mr. Sims," Imuttered, "may I depend on you?"
"Most certainly. I am deeply----"
I waved my hand. "Money talks," I interrupted drily. "I require noassurances. Serve me well, and I'll make your fortune. Fail me, and bythe God above us, I'll break you, Mr. Sims. Those are my terms."
"Agreed!"
he cried, his eyes shining like stars. "Now, sir, yourinstructions. What am I to bear?"
"Anglo-American Hotels," I murmured softly.
He started upright, and gazed at me like one confounded."Anglo-Americans," he gasped.
"Listen," said I. "To-morrow morning you will sell one hundred thousandshares--cash-on-delivery--to be handed over on Saturday. The market isat present steady at forty shillings. Your first operation will notaffect it one iota. In the afternoon you will sell another hundredthousand--same terms. You'll get the same figure, for, although myassociates will be nervous, they are too deeply involved to dare letthe price fall, till they are sure, and they'll buy at evens, neverdreaming that they are bucking-up against a stone wall. Next morningsell two hundred thousand. That will turn the balance. The price willprobably drop a bit. In the afternoon sell three hundred thousand.You'll find by then the market in a panic, for my pals will have smelta big rat, and they'll no longer show fight. Indeed, I expect they willfollow my lead, and to save themselves, start selling too. However,keep on selling a hundred thousand each half-day, till the absoluteslump. That will arrive on Friday morning at latest. I reckon theshares should by then reach bottom, say from three to seven shillings.You will then buy scrip against deliveries on your former sales andreport to me here at 11 a.m. on Saturday morning, with the transfersfor signature. By the way, Agar Hume is a good name, and will look fineon the transfers. Stick to it! That is all I need say, I think, exceptthat I advise you to follow my lead as far as your means allow. Thetransaction will enrich you. Your commission will, of course, be at theordinary rate."
Mr. Sims had fallen back in his chair. His eyes were as round asmarbles, and his mouth gaped ajar.
"You looked surprised!" I observed, with an indulgent smile.
He passed his hand nervously across his brow, and gave himself a littleshake.
"It's colossal--but immoral!" he gasped. "Colossally immoral! Yourassociates----" he stopped short, lacking words.
"My associates are men of business," I said, coldly. "And they would bethe first to tell you that there is no morality involved in businesstransactions. I propose to treat them as they would treat me, if theywere clever enough to perceive a way. But we waste time, sir. Thequestion is, are you the man to handle the affair?"
"Yes," he cried. "Indeed, yes."
I nodded and stood up. "Then adieu till Saturday. My secretary, Brown,in the meanwhile, will wait upon you every afternoon. Good-day, Mr.Sims!"
He bowed, and, stammering some form of farewell, took his departure. Amoment later I locked the door behind him, and, retiring into my innerroom, threw myself down upon the bed--to think. I had succeeded beyondmy dreams. The stockbroker had swallowed both bait and hook like thegreediest of gudgeons. He had not asked me one difficult question, and,whether from diffidence or obsequiousness, he had neglected to demandthe slightest proof of my _bona fides_. Concerning the latter point,however, I thought it possible that he might, after reflection, returnand try to repair his folly. I therefore postponed changing my disguisefor several hours, so that I might not be caught unawares. But Mr. Simsdid not venture to come back, and when night fell, I felt safe. I hadonly ten pounds left in the world at that juncture, but I considered myfuture so brilliantly assured, and I felt so satisfied with myself,that, as Agar Hume, _in propria persona_, I treated myself to dinner atthe Trocadero, and afterwards to a music-hall.
I passed the next day reading a French novel, until three o'clock inthe afternoon, when I assumed the form of Brown, Mr. Stelfox Steele'sfictitious lackey. At a little after four o'clock I entered Mr. Sims'office, and was immediately ushered into the stockbroker's privatesanctum.
Mr. Sims began to greet me with great effusiveness, but I cut himshort, and even refused to sit down.
"Excuse me," I said, quickly, "a certain gentleman is very anxiouslyexpecting my return to Lambert Road, and I simply dare not keep himwaiting an unnecessary second. Did you sell the shares, sir?"
"Yes--two hundred thousand!"
"And the figure, Mr. Sims?"
"Forty shillings, Mr. Brown; just as he predicted!"
"Is the market at all upset?"
"Excited rather, I should say. Mr. Sampson Y. May, the Manager of theTrust, came to see me, and tried to pump me, but naturally, I kept aclose mouth."
"Good," said I, "my master will be pleased."
"Has he any further orders for me, Mr. Brown?"
"Only to carry on. Good-afternoon, sir! I must hurry back."
"Good-afternoon, Mr. Brown; pray give Mr.--er--Hume--my kind regards."
I nodded and withdrew, happy as a king. But until the same hour on thefollowing day I suffered the most poignant anxiety. It was relieved,however, on the way to the stockbrokers' office. As I drove over thebridge, the newsboys were crying at the top of their voices: "Greatfall in Anglo-American Hotels. Panic on the Stock Exchange!"
I bought a paper and, trembling with delight, was speedily convinced ofthe truth of their assertions. The shares in the great trust, whichyesterday had stood firm at forty shillings, had already fallen totwenty, and the market was in a state of collapse. The journal haddevoted its leading article to the affair and, voicing the popularattitude, was mildly jubilant at so severe a check having been given toAmerican enterprise. I found Mr. Sims in a state of rapturousexcitement. As soon as I had entered the room, he locked the door, and,seizing both my hands, he wrung them as warmly as though I had been hisdearest friend, new met after years of separation.
"To think that I almost drove you away from my door the other day!" hecried in a whirl. "Mr. Brown, what don't I owe you. What don't I oweyou?"
"You owe me nothing," I replied. "Your gratitude is entirely due to Mr.Agar Hume, sir; I was merely his messenger."
"Messenger or not," he retorted warmly, "you brought me a message whichhas made my fortune, and when this business is over I shall insist uponmaking you a handsome present, Mr. Brown."
I waved my hand and shrugged my shoulders. "My master does not allow meto accept presents," I said, with dignity. "But that reminds me, I amkeeping him in suspense. How many shares did you sell to-day?"
"Five hundred thousand!"
"And the figure?"
"Forty shillings for the first hundred; thirty-five for the second;thirty for the third, and twenty for the last two. The price droppedlike a rocket in the last half-hour, and now the whole exchange is fullof bears; there is scarcely a single buyer offering. I have no doubtbut that to-morrow there will be a further heavy fall."
"Hum!" said I. "Let me see, you have now in credit for my master onemillion one hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds. That is to say, ofcourse, on settlement. Am I right?"
"Perfectly, Mr. Brown. And for that sum I have disposed of sevenhundred thousand shares. I hope that Mr.--er--ah--Hume--will besatisfied."
"I am sure he will be." I put on my hat. "Keep on selling till theyreach five shillings, please, then buy scrip through another broker, ormore, as fast as possible, until we stand even. Those are my master'slatest orders, Mr. Sims."
"Very good, Mr. Brown. Anything else?"
"Not at present, sir. Good-evening!"
Next day "Anglo-American Hotels" fell as low as four shillings, andcontinued at that price until the following afternoon, when they beganto rise, owing to the heavy purchases made on my account by the brokersemployed in that behalf by Mr. Sims. On this point I need only remarkthat my agents, during that period, bought shares to replace thefictitious ones which had been sold at my behest for a little overL450,000.
On Saturday morning, promptly at the appointed hour, Mr. Sims came tome, at the Golden Grove Hotel. As may be readily imagined, I receivedhim in the guise of Mr. Stelfox Steele, and I took every conceivablecare that he should still persist in his delusion. He brought with hima large bundle of transfer forms, which it took me an hour to sign,writing at the top of my speed, for not many of the shares were inlarger parcels than a thousand. I subscribed them all with my ownname--Agar Hume. Mr. Si
ms meanwhile watching my flying pen inrespectful silence. When I had finished, I pushed aside the paperstowards him, and heaved a deep sigh.
"Never mind details, Mr. Sims," I said, wearily, "Brown has bored mewith them through the week. He tells me that when your commission isdeducted I am to receive L650,000?"
"Yes, sir. A splendid week's work, Mr. Steele."
I shrugged my shoulders. "Not too bad, since I was pressed for time,but a bagatelle, Mr. Sims, to the business we shall yet do together. Bythe way, I leave London to-night, but Brown will stay behind me toreceive the money. When can you be ready to settle?"
"On Monday, at noon, if that will suit you, Mr. Steele?"
I nodded. "It will do. Make out an open bank-cheque and hand it toBrown, who will give you a receipt signed by Agar Hume. You willunderstand that I cannot discharge you in my own name?"
"Certainly, sir."
"Well, Sims, I hope that you have profited by my example and advice?"
He gave me a look of deep gratitude. "Thanks to you, sir," he cried. "Iam a rich man to-day, that is to say, from my point of view--not yours,sir."
"How much have you made?"
"Seventy thousand, commission included. I cannot sufficiently expressmy obligation to you, Mr. Steele. There are not many operators who willallow their brokers to follow their lead. But you, sir, were more thangenerous!"
I smiled. "I can afford such a pastime occasionally, Sims. Besides, Iliked your face. Ah! well. I shall not detain you now, for I am verybusy myself. Good-bye!"
He stood up, and we shook hands.
"We'll meet again, sir, I hope," he cried. "You were good enough tohint a moment since----"
"Yes," I interrupted, "We'll meet again. But our acquaintanceship mustnecessarily be preserved a secret from the world. Therefore be goodenough not to feel offended should we by any chance encounter inpublic, and you receive no recognition at my hands. When I want you, mysecretary, Brown, will let you know. Until then, farewell!"
He bowed deeply, and respectfully retired.
As for me, I removed my disguise as quickly as I could, and changed myclothes. I then paid my reckoning at the hotel, and set off for BrutonStreet, with exactly three pounds in my pocket. There I remained untilMonday afternoon, sunk in a veritable debauch of dreams. The timepassed on the wings of brilliant fancies, and not an hour appeared toolong, despite my natural anxiety to finger the money which my audaciousdexterity had won. My extraordinary success had, in fact, turned myhead a little, and had swelled my vanity to proportions so magnificentthat I fell into a stupor of self-reverence, and often even forgot toeat. I awakened at length, however, to thoughts of revenge. Somewherehiding from me in the world was a certain great surgeon--named, SirCharles Venner--who had inflicted on my body inhuman tortures. He haddriven needles into my fingers, and he had seared my feet withbranding-irons. I had been obliged by poverty temporarily to relinquishall idea of vengeance. But now I was rich! rich! I sprang to my feetwith a sudden cry of rage and exultation, savagely resolved to repay myenemy with interest for every pang that I had suffered at his hands.After that I dreamed no more.
My final interview with Mr. Sims was brief, but eminently satisfactory.In exchange for a receipt which I had written out beforehand, he handedto me, as he thought to Mr. Brown, an open cheque, drawn in favour ofMr. Agar Hume on the Bank of England, for L650,000--which was marked"good." He then shook me warmly by the hand and begged me to allow himto make me a present. That, however, I refused, and half-an-hour laterI was again in my room at Bruton Street, stripping off for the lasttime my disguise as "Brown," the Secretary.
I then repaired to my bank, and, much to the old manager'sastonishment, re-opened my account there with the cheque thatrepresented my princely and strangely-gotten fortune. The manager didnot ask me for a reference on that occasion. Indeed, he nearly fellover himself in his anxiety to be polite, and he personally conductedme when I departed to the outer door. Truly, money makes the man.
Two days afterwards, I set out for Paris on my way to Cairo, my pocketsfull of foreign gold, and armed besides with letters of credit forlarge amounts. My intention was to find, first of all, my false love,Marion Le Mar, now Lady Dagmar. And through her, if possible, myenemy--Sir Charles Venner.
First Person Paramount Page 11
