The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope (best fiction novels of all time .TXT) 📕

bishop it is, but we had the two archbishops before. They say he must come because he has something to do with getting up the missionaries for Tibet. But I’ve got the ticket, if you’ll have it.” This was the ticket which was to have taken in Georgiana Longestaffe as one of the Melmotte family, had not Melmotte perceived that it might be useful to him as a bribe. But Paul would not take the bribe. “You’re the only man in London then,” said Melmotte, somewhat offended. “But at any rate you’ll come in the evening, and I’ll have one of Madame Melmotte’s tickets sent to you.” Paul, not knowing how to escape, said that he would come in the evening. “I am particularly anxious,” continued he, “to be civil to those who are connected with our great Railway, and of course, in this country, your name stands first⁠—next to my own.”

Then the great man paused, and Paul began to wonder whether it could be possible that he had been sent for to Grosvenor Square on a Sunday morning in order that he might be asked to dine in the same house a fortnight later. But that was impossible. “Have you anything special to say about the Railway?” he asked.

“Well, yes. It is so hard to get things said at the Board. Of course there are some there who do not understand matters.”

“I doubt if there be anyone there who does understand this matter,” said Paul.

Melmotte affected to laugh. “Well, well; I am not prepared to go quite so far as that. My friend Cohenlupe has had great experience in these affairs, and of course you are aware that he is in Parliament. And Lord Alfred sees farther into them than perhaps you give him credit for.”

“He may easily do that.”

“Well, well. Perhaps you don’t know him quite as well as I do.” The scowl began to appear on Mr. Melmotte’s brow. Hitherto it had been banished as well as he knew how to banish it. “What I wanted to say to you was this. We didn’t quite agree at the last meeting.”

“No; we did not.”

“I was very sorry for it. Unanimity is everything in the direction of such an undertaking as this. With unanimity we can do⁠—everything.” Mr. Melmotte in the ecstasy of his enthusiasm lifted up both his hands over his head. “Without unanimity we can do⁠—nothing.” And the two hands fell. “Unanimity should be printed everywhere about a Boardroom. It should, indeed, Mr. Montague.”

“But suppose the directors are not unanimous.”

“They should be unanimous. They should make themselves unanimous. God bless my soul! You don’t want to see the thing fall to pieces!”

“Not if it can be carried on honestly.”

“Honestly! Who says that anything is dishonest?” Again the brow became very heavy. “Look here, Mr. Montague. If you and I quarrel in that Boardroom, there is no knowing the amount of evil we may do to every individual shareholder in the Company. I find the responsibility on my own shoulders so great that I say the thing must be stopped. Damme, Mr. Montague, it must be stopped. We mustn’t ruin widows and children, Mr. Montague. We mustn’t let those shares run down 20 below par for a mere chimera. I’ve known a fine property blasted, Mr. Montague, sent straight to the dogs⁠—annihilated, sir;⁠—so that it all vanished into thin air, and widows and children past counting were sent out to starve about the streets⁠—just because one director sat in another director’s chair. I did, by G⁠⸺! What do you think of that, Mr. Montague? Gentlemen who don’t know the nature of credit, how strong it is⁠—as the air⁠—to buoy you up; how slight it is⁠—as a mere vapour⁠—when roughly touched, can do an amount of mischief of which they themselves don’t in the least understand the extent! What is it you want, Mr. Montague?”

“What do I want?” Melmotte’s description of the peculiar susceptibility of great mercantile speculations had not been given without some effect on Montague, but this direct appeal to himself almost drove that effect out of his mind. “I only want justice.”

“But you should know what justice is before you demand it at the expense of other people. Look here, Mr. Montague. I suppose you are like the rest of us, in this matter. You want to make money out of it.”

“For myself, I want interest for my capital; that is all. But I am not thinking of myself.”

“You are getting very good interest. If I understand the matter,”⁠—and here Melmotte pulled out a little book, showing thereby how careful he was in mastering details⁠—“you had about £6,000 embarked in the business when Fisker joined your firm. You imagine yourself to have that still.”

“I don’t know what I’ve got.”

“I can tell you then. You have that, and you’ve drawn nearly a thousand pounds since Fisker came over, in one shape or another. That’s not bad interest on your money.”

“There was back interest due to me.”

“If so, it’s due still. I’ve nothing to do with that. Look here, Mr. Montague. I am most anxious that you should remain with us. I was about to propose, only for that little rumpus the other day, that, as you’re an unmarried man, and have time on your hands, you should go out to California and probably across to Mexico, in order to get necessary information for the Company. Were I of your age, unmarried, and without impediment, it is just the thing I should like. Of course you’d go at the Company’s expense. I would see to your own personal interests while you were away;⁠—or you could appoint anyone by power of attorney. Your seat at the Board would be kept for you; but, should anything occur amiss⁠—which it won’t, for the thing is as sound as anything I know⁠—of course you, as absent, would not share the responsibility. That’s what I was thinking. It would be a delightful trip;⁠—but if you don’t like it, you can of course remain at the Board, and be of the greatest use to me.