The Mysteries of London Volume 1

by Reynolds, George W. M.

  The Buffer shut the door of the dissecting-room, because the draught caused the candle to flicker, and menaced the light with extinction. He then proceeded to obey the directions which he had received from his accomplice.

  The Buffer removed the sack from the body, which he then stretched out at length upon the inclined table, taking care to place its head on the higher extremity and immediately beneath the pulley.

  “There, old feller,” he said, “you’re comfortable, at any rate. What a blessin’ it would be to your friends, if they was ever to find out that you’d been had up again, to know into what skilful hands you’d happened to fall!”

  Thus musing, the Buffer turned his back listlessly towards the corpse, and leant against the table on which it was lying.

  “Let me see,” he said to himself, “there’s thirty-one pounds that was buried along with him, and then there’s ten pounds that the sawbones is a paying now to Tony for the snatch; that makes forty-one pounds, and there’s three to go shares. What does that make? Threes into four goes once—threes into eleven goes three and two over—that’s thirteen pounds a-piece, and two pound to split—”

  The Buffer started abruptly round, and became deadly pale. He thought he heard a slight movement of the corpse, and his whole frame trembled.

  Almost at the same moment some object was hurled violently against the window; the glass was shivered to atoms; the candle was thrown down and extinguished; and total darkness reigned in the dissecting-room.

  “Holloa!” cried the Buffer, turning sick at heart; “what’s that?”

  Scarcely had these words escaped his lips when he felt his hand suddenly grasped by the cold fingers of the corpse.

  “O God!” cried the miscreant; and he fell insensible across the body on the table.

  CHAPTER CIX.

  THE STOCK-BROKER.

  UPON a glass-door, leading into offices on a ground floor in Tokenhouse Yard, were the words “JAMES TOMLINSON, Stock-broker.”

  It was about eleven o’clock in the morning.

  A clerk was busily employed in writing at a desk in the front office. The walls of this room were covered with placards, bills, and prospectuses, all announcing the most gigantic enterprises, and whose principal features were large figures expressing millions of money.

  These prospectuses were of various kinds. Some merely put forth schemes by which enormous profits were to be realised, but which had not yet arrived to that state of maturity (the point at which the popular gullibility has been laid hold of,) when Directors, Secretaries, and Treasurers can be announced in a flaming list. Others denoted that the projectors had triumphed over the little difficulty of obtaining good names to form a board; and the upper part of this class of prospectuses was embellished with a perfect array of M.P.’s, Aldermen, and Esquires.

  The prospectuses, one and all, set forth, with George-Robins-flourishes and poetico-hyperbolical flowers of rhetoric, the unparalleled and astounding advantages to be reaped from the enterprises respectfully submitted to public consideration and to the monied world especially. The face of the globe was a complete paradise according to those announcements. The interior of Africa was represented to be a perfect mine of gold by the projectors of a company to trade to those salubrious parts; the cannibals of the South Sea Islands became intelligent and interesting beings in the language of another association of speculators; the majestic scenery of the North Pole and the phenomena of the aurora borealis were held out by a colonizing company as inducements to families to emigrate to Spitzbergen; the originators of a scheme for forming railways in Egypt expatiated upon the delights of travelling at the rate of sixty miles an hour through a land famous for its antiquarian remains, and along the banks of a river where the young alligators might be seen disporting in the sun; and numerous other prospectuses of majestic enterprises developed their original principles and prospective benefits to the astounded reader.

  One would have imagined that any individual with a five-pound note in his pocket, had only just to step into Mr. Tomlinson’s office, take five shares in as many enterprises, pay one pound deposit upon each, and walk out again a man of vast wealth.

  Mr. Tomlinson himself was seated in a decently furnished room, which constituted the “private office.” He was looking well, but somewhat careworn, and not quite so comfortable as a man who had passed through the Bankruptcy Court, got his certificate, and was in business once more, might be expected to look. In a word, he had a hard struggle to make his way respectably, and was compelled to meddle in many things that shocked his somewhat sensitive disposition.

  A short, well-dressed, good-humoured man, with a small quick eye, was sitting on one side of the fire, conversing with the stock-broker.

  “Well, Mr. Tomlinson,” he said, “on those conditions I will lend my name to the Irish Railway Company proposed. But, remember, I require fifty shares, and I am not to pay a farthing for them.”

  “Oh, of course,” cried Tomlinson; “that is precisely the proposal I was instructed to make to you. The fact is, between you and me, the projectors are all men of straw—one came out of Whitecross Street Prison a few weeks ago, and another has been a bankrupt twice and an insolvent seven times; and so they must raise heaven and earth to get good names.”

  “ ’Tis their only plan—their only plan,” answered the gentleman; “and I flatter myself,” he added, drawing himself up, “that the countenance of Mr. Sheriff Popkins is not to be sneezed at.”

  “On the contrary, my dear Mr. Popkins,” said Tomlinson, “your name will soon bring a host of others.”

  “I should think so, Mr. Tomlinson—I should think so,” was the self-sufficient reply.

  “Well, then, Mr. Popkins, shall I make an appointment for you to meet Messrs. Bubble and Chouse to-morrow morning at my office?”

  “If you please, my dear sir. And now I wish you to do a little matter for me. The fact is, I have been fool enough to take thirty shares in a certain railway company, and I have been elected a director. The company is in a most flourishing condition, and so I mean to make them purchase my shares of me. You will accordingly have the kindness to let it be known on ’Change that you have my shares to sell; but you must mind and not part with them. The thing will get to the Company’s ears, and they will be terribly alarmed at the prospect of the injury which may be done to the enterprise by a director offering his shares for sale. They will then send and negotiate with you privately, and you can make a good bargain with them.”

  “I understand,” said Tomlinson. “I shall only breathe a whisper about the shares being offered for sale, in a quarter whence I know the rumour will immediately fly to the Directors of the Company.”

  “Good,” observed Mr. Sheriff Popkins. “Here is the scrip: you can tell me what you have done when I call to-morrow morning to meet Messrs. Bubble and Choose.”

  The worthy sheriff then withdrew, and Mr. Alderman Sniff was announced.

  “Mr. Tomlinson,” said this gentleman, “I wish you to do your best for a new Joint Stock-Company which I have just founded. This is the prospectus.”

  The stock-broker glanced over it, and said, in a musing manner, “Ah! very good indeed—excellent! ‘British Marble Company.’ Famous idea! ‘Capital Two Hundred Thousand Pounds in Ten Thousand Shares of Twenty Pounds Each.’ Good again. ‘Deposit One Pound per Share.’ That will do. Then comes the Board of Directors—all good names. I see you have made yourself Managing Director: well, that’s quite fair! Then, again, ‘Auditor, Mr. Alderman Sniff; Treasurer, Mr. Alderman Sniff; Secretary, Mr. Alderman Sniff.’ But who sells the quarry to the Company? Oh! I see, ‘Mr. Alderman Sniff.’”

  “Well, what do you think of it?” demanded the alderman.

  “You ask me candidly, my dear sir?”

  “Certainly,” replied the alderman.

  “I think the plan is
excellent. The only drawback to its success, is—shall I speak openly?”

  “I wish you to do so.”

  “Then I am of opinion that you have given yourself too many situations,” continued Tomlinson. “In the first place you found the Company, and you make yourself Managing Director. Well and good. But then you also sell the quarry to the Company. Now, as Managing Director, you have to award to yourself a sum for that quarry; as Treasurer you pay yourself; as Secretary you draw up the agreements; and as Auditor you confirm your own accounts!”

  “Perfectly correct, Mr. Tomlinson. Is it not a rule that Joint-Stock Companies are never to benefit any one save the founder?”

  “Oh! no one denies that,” answered the stock-broker. “What I am afraid of is, that the public will not bite, when they see one man occupying so many situations in the Company.”

  “Nonsense, my dear fellow! The name of an alderman will carry every thing before it. Does not the world believe that the Aldermen of the City of London are all as rich as Crœsus?”

  “Whereas, between you and me,” returned Tomlinson with a sly laugh, “there is scarcely one of them who has got a penny if his affairs came to be wound up.”

  “And yet we live gloriously, ha! ha!” chuckled Mr. Alderman Sniff. “But to return to my business: what can you do for me?”

  “I can certainly recommend the enterprise,” answered Tomlinson. “But where can the marble be seen?”

  “At my office,” said the alderman. “I went and bought the finest piece that was ever imported from Italy; and there it is in my counting-house, labelled ‘BRITISH MARBLE’ in letters at least half a foot high.”

  “Where is the quarry situated?” inquired Tomlinson.

  “Oh! I haven’t quite made up my mind about that yet,” was the answer given by Mr. Alderman Sniff. “The truth is, I am going down into Wales this week, and I shall buy the first field I can get cheap in some rude part of the country. That is the least difficulty in the whole enterprise.”

  “Your plans are admirable, my dear sir,” exclaimed Tomlinson. “I will do all I can for you. Will you take a glass of wine and a biscuit?”

  “No, I thank you—not now,” said the Alderman. “I have promised a colleague to sit for him to-day at Guildhall police-court. Last week I was on the rota for attendance there, and I remanded a man who was brought up on a charge of obtaining three and sixpence under false pretences.”

  “Indeed?” ejaculated Tomlinson, whose eyes were fixed upon the “Two Hundred Thousand Pounds” in the alderman’s prospectus.

  “Yes,” continued Mr. Sniff; “and I am going to sit to-day because that fellow comes up again. I mean to clear the City of all such rogues and vagabonds. I shall give him a taste of the treadmill for two months. So, good morning. By the by, call as you pass my office and have a look at the marble; and mind,” he added, sinking his voice, “you don’t let out that it came from Italy. It is pure Welsh marble, remember!”

  Alderman Sniff chuckled at this pleasant idea, and then hastened to Guildhall, where he fully justified his character of being the most severe magistrate in the City of London.

  A few minutes after Mr. Alderman Sniff had taken his departure, Mr. Greenwood was announced.

  “My dear Tomlinson, I am delighted to see you,” said the capitalist. “It is really an age—a week at least—since I saw you. How do matters get on?”

  “I have prospects of doing an excellent business,” answered Tomlinson. “The numberless bubble companies that are started every day, are the making of us stock-brokers. We dispose of shares or effect transfers, and obtain our commission, let the result be what it may to the purchasers.”

  “And I hope that you have conquered those ridiculous qualms of conscience which always made a coward of you, when you were in Lombard Street?” said Greenwood.

  “Needs must when the devil drives,” observed Tomlinson drily.

  “For my part,” continued Greenwood, “I take advantage of this mania on the part of the English for speculation in joint-stock companies and railway shares. A day of reaction will come and the effects will be fearful. Thousands and thousands of families will be involved in irretrievable ruin. That day may not occur for one year—two years—five years—or even ten years;—but come it will; and the signal for it will be when the House of Commons is inundated with railway and joint-stock company business, and when it is compelled to postpone a portion of that business until the ensuing session. Then confidence will receive a shock: an interval for calm meditation will occur; and the result will be awful. Every one will be anxious to sell shares, and there will be no buyers. Now mark my words, Tomlinson; and, if you speculate on your own account, speculate accordingly. I do so.”

  “And you are not likely to go wrong, I know,” said Tomlinson. “But stock-brokers do not risk any money of their own: they have plenty of clients, who will do that for them.”

  “Then you are really thriving?” asked Greenwood.

  “I am earning a living, and my business is increasing. But I feel hanging like a mill-stone round my neck the thousand pounds which you lent me at twenty per cent.—”

  “Yes—only twenty per cent.”

  “Only at twenty per cent.,” continued Tomlinson with a sigh: “and I am unable to return you more than one hundred at present, although I agreed to pay you two hundred every four months.”

  “The hundred will do,” said Greenwood; and he wrote out a receipt for that amount.

  Tomlinson handed him over a number of notes, which Greenwood counted and then consigned to his pocket.

  “There is a pretty business to be done in the City now,” said the capitalist, after a pause. “I contrive to snatch an hour or two now and then from the time which I am compelled to devote to the enlightened and independent body that returned me to Parliament; and I seldom come into the City on those occasions without lending a few hundreds to some poor devil who has over-bought himself in shares.”

  “I have no doubt that you thrive, Greenwood,” said the stock-broker. “Every man who takes advantage of the miseries of others must get on.”

  “To be sure—to be sure,” cried the Member of Parliament. “I hope that you will act upon that principle.”

  “I have no reason to complain of the business that I am now doing: I act as honestly as I can—and that principle deprives me of many advantageous affairs. Then I experience annoyance from a constant reminiscence of that poor old man who so nobly sacrificed himself for me.”

  “The eternal cry!” ejaculated Greenwood. “If you are so very anxious to find him out, put an advertisement in the Times—”

  “And if he saw it, he would believe it to be a stratagem of the police to arrest him. You know that there is a warrant out against him. The official assignee took that step.”

  “Well, let him take his chance; and if he should happen to be captured, we will petition the Home Secretary to diminish the period for which he will be sentenced to transportation. Not that such a step would benefit him much, because his age—”

  “Let us drop this subject, Greenwood,” said Tomlinson, evidently affected.

  “With all my heart. I must admit that it moves one’s feelings; and if I met the old man in the street, I should not hesitate to give him a guinea out of my own pocket.”

  “A guinea!” cried Tomlinson—and a smile of contempt curled his lips. “Perhaps you would recommend me to bestow a five-pound note upon that poor Italian nobleman whom you cheated out of his fifteen thousand pounds.”

  “You need not call him a poor nobleman,” answered Greenwood. “He is now worth ten thousand pounds a-year.”

  “Indeed! A great change must have taken place, then, in his fortunes?” exclaimed Tomlinson.

  “The fact, in a few words, is this. A young lady, whom I knew well,” said Greenwood, “obtained l
etters of introduction from Count Alteroni to certain friends of his in Montoni, the capital of Castelcicala, to which state she repaired for the benefit of her health, or some such frivolous reason. She had the good fortune to captivate the Grand Duke—”

  “Miss Eliza Sydney, you mean?” said Tomlinson.

  “The same. Did you know her?”

  “Not at all. But I read in the newspapers the account of her marriage with Angelo III. Proceed.”

  “The moment she married the Grand Duke, a pension of ten thousand a-year was granted to Count Alteroni, by way of indemnification, I have heard, for his estates, which were confiscated after he had fled the country in consequence of political intrigues.”

  “How did you learn all this?”

  “My valet Filippo happens to be a native of Montoni, and he seems well acquainted with all that passes in Castelcicala. Count Alteroni and his family have returned to the villa which they formerly inhabited at Richmond.”

  “I am delighted to hear this good news. You have taken a considerable weight off my mind; the transaction with that nobleman was always a subject of self-reproach.”

  “I dare say,” observed Mr. Greenwood ironically; then, drawing his chair closer to Tomlinson’s seat, he added, “You are no doubt the most punctilious and conscientious of all City men. I have something to communicate to you, and must do it briefly, as I am compelled to return to Spring Gardens, to meet a deputation from the Rottenborough Agricultural Society, at one o’clock precisely—and I never keep such people waiting more than an hour!”

  “That is considerate on your part,” said the stock-broker.

  “Don’t you think it is? But I did not come here for the sole purpose of chatting. The fact is, a gentleman with whom I am acquainted wants a stock-broker for a very delicate and important business—for a business,” added Greenwood, sinking his voice to a whisper, “which requires a man who will be content to put five hundred pounds into his pocket for the service that will be required of him, and perform that service blindfold, as it were.”