Cord and Creese

J >> James de Mille >> Cord and Creese

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Saying this he handed to Despard a miniature, painted on enamel,
representing a beautiful woman, whose features were like his own.

"My mother!" cried Despard, passionately, and he covered the miniature
with kisses.

"I buried your father," said the stranger, after a long pause. "His
remains now lie on Coffin Island, in their last resting-place."

"And who are you? What are you? How did you find me out? What is your
object?" cried Despard, eagerly.

"I am Mr. Wheeler," said the stranger, calmly; "and I come to give you
these things in order to fulfill my duty to the dead. It remains for you
to fulfill yours."

"That duty shall be fulfilled!" exclaimed Despard. "The law does not
help me: I will help myself. I know some of these men at least. I will
do the duty of a son."

The stranger bowed and withdrew.

Despard paced the room for hours. A fierce thirst for vengeance had
taken possession of him. Again and again he read the manuscript, and
after each reading his vengeful feeling became stronger.

At last he had a purpose. He was no longer the imbecile--the crushed--
the hopeless. In the full knowledge of his father's misery his own
became endurable.

In the morning he saw Langhetti and told him all.

"But who is the stranger?" Despard asked in wonder.

"It can only be one person," said Langhetti, solemnly.

"Who?"

"Louis Brandon. He and no other. Who else could thus have been chosen to
find the dead? He has his wrongs also to avenge."

Despard was silent. Overwhelming thoughts crowded upon him. Was this man
Louis Brandon?

"We must find him," said he. "We must gain his help in our work. We must
also tell him about Edith."

"Yes," replied Langhetti. "But no doubt he has his own work before him;
and this is but part of his plan, to rouse you from inaction to
vengeance."

CHAPTER XLVIII.

WHO IS HE?

On the morning after the last escape of Beatrice, Clark went up to
Brandon Hall. It was about nine o'clock. A sullen frown was on his face,
which was pervaded by an expression of savage malignity. A deeply
preoccupied look, as though he were altogether absorbed in his own
thoughts, prevented him from noticing the half-smiles which the servants
cast at one another.

Asgeelo opened the door. That valuable servant was at his post as usual.
Clark brushed past him with a growl and entered the dining-room.

Potts was standing in front of the fire with a flushed face and savage
eyes. John was stroking his dog, and appeared quite indifferent. Clark,
however, was too much taken up with his own thoughts to notice Potts. He
came in and sat down in silence.

"Well," said Potts, "did you do that business?"

"No," growled Clark.

"No!" cried Potts. "Do you mean to say you didn't follow up the fellow?"

"I mean to say it's no go," returned Clark. "I did what I could. But
when you are after a man, and he turns out to be the DEVIL HIMSELF, what
can you do?"

At these words, which were spoken with unusual excitement, John gave a
low laugh, but said nothing.

"You've been getting rather soft lately, it seems to me," said Potts.
"At any rate, what did you do?"

"Well," said Clark, slowly--"I went to that inn--to watch the fellow. He
was sitting by the fire, taking it very easy. I tried to make out
whether I had ever seen him before, but could not. He sat by the fire,
and wouldn't say a word. I tried to trot him out, and at last I did so.
He trotted out in good earnest, and if any man was ever kicked at and
ridden rough-shod over, I'm that individual. He isn't a man--he's
Beelzebub. He knows every thing. He began in a playful way by taking a
piece of charcoal and writing on the wall some marks which belong to me,
and which I'm a little delicate about letting people see; in fact, the
Botany Bay marks."

"Did he know that?" cried Potts, aghast.

"Not only knew it, but, as I was saying, marked it on the wall. That's a
sign of knowledge. And for fear they wouldn't be understood, he kindly
explained to about a dozen people present the particular meaning of
each."

"The devil!" said John.

"That's what I said he was," rejoined Clark, dryly. "But that's nothing.
I remember when I was a little boy," he continued, pensively, "hearing
the parson read about some handwriting on the wall, that frightened
Beelzebub himself; but I tell you this handwriting on the wall used me
up a good deal more than that other. Still what followed was worse."

Clark paused for a little while, and then, taking a long breath, went
on.

"He proceeded to give to the assembled company an account of my life,
particularly that very interesting part of it which I passed on my last
visit to Botany Bay. You know my escape."

He stopped for a while.

"Did he know about that, too?" asked Potts, with some agitation.

"Johnnie," said Clark, "he knew a precious sight more than you do, and
told some things which I had forgotten myself. Why, that devil stood up
there and slowly told the company not only what I did but what I felt.
He brought it all back. He told how I looked at Stubbs, and how Stubbs
looked at me in the boat. He told how we sat looking at each other, each
in our own end of the boat."

Clark stopped again, and no one spoke for a long time.

"I lost my breath and ran out," he resumed, "and was afraid to go back.
I did so at last. It was then almost midnight. I found him still sitting
there. He smiled at me in a way that fairly made my blood run cold.
'Crocker,' said he, 'sit down.'"

At this Potts and John looked at each other in horror.

"He knows that too?" said John.

"Every thing," returned Clark, dejectedly.

"Well, when he said that I looked a little surprised, as you may be
sure.

"'I thought you'd be back,' said he, 'for you want to see me, you know.
You're going to follow me,' says he. 'You've got your pistols all ready,
so, as I always like to oblige a friend, I'll give you a chance. Come.'

"At this I fairly staggered.

"'Come,' says he, 'I've got all that money, and Potts wants it back. And
you're going to get it from me. Come.'

"I swear to you I could not move. He smiled at me as before, and quietly
got up and left the house. I stood for some time fixed to the spot. At
last I grew reckless. 'If he's the devil himself,' says I, 'I'll have it
out with him.' I rushed out and followed in his pursuit. After some time
I overtook him. He was on horseback, but his horse was walking. He heard
me coming. 'Ah, Crocker,' said he, quite merrily, 'so you've come, have
you?'

"I tore my pistol from my pocket and fired. The only reply was a loud
laugh. He went on without turning his head. I was now sure that it was
the devil, but I fired my other pistol. He gave a tremendous laugh,
turned his horse, and rode full at me. His horse seemed as large as the
village church. Every thing swam around, and I fell headforemost on the
ground. I believe I lay there all night. When I came to it was morning,
and I hurried straight here."

As he ended Clark arose, and, going to the sideboard, poured out a large
glass of brandy, which he drank raw.

"The fact is," said John, after long thought, "you've been tricked. This
fellow has doctored your pistols and frightened you."

"But I loaded them myself," replied Clark.

"When?"

"Oh, I always keep them loaded in my room. I tried them, and found the
charge was in them."

"Oh, somebody's fixed them."

"I don't think half as much about the pistols as about what he told me.
What devil could have put all that into his head? Answer me that," said
Clark.

"Somebody's at work around us," said John. "I feel it in my bones."

"We're getting used up," said Potts. "The girl's gone again."

"The girl! Gone!"

"Yes, and Mrs. Compton too."

"The devil!"

"I'd rather lose the girl than Mrs. Compton; but when they both vanish
the same night what are you to think?"

"I think the devil is loose."

"I'm afraid he's turned against us," said Potts, in a regretful tone.
"He's got tired of helping us."

"Do none of the servants know any thing about it?"

"No--none of them."

"Have you asked them all?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't that new servant, the Injin?"

"No; they all went to bed at twelve. Vijal was up as late as two. They
all swear that every thing was quiet."

"Did they go out through the doors?"

"The doors were all locked as usual."

"There's treachery somewhere!" cried John, with more excitement than
usual.

The others were silent.

"I believe that the girl's at the bottom of it all," said John. "We've
been trying to take her down ever since she came, but it's my belief
that we'll end by getting took down ourselves. I scented bad luck in her
at the other side of the world. We've been acting like fools. We ought
to have silenced her at first."

"No," rejoined Potts, gloomily. "There's somebody at work deeper than
she is. Somebody--but who?--who?"

"Nobody but the devil," said Clark, firmly.

"I've been thinking about that Italian," continued Potts. "He's the only
man living that would bother his head about the girl. They know a good
deal between them. I think he's managed some of this last business. He
humbugged us. It isn't the devil; it's this Italian. We must look out;
he'll be around here again perhaps."

Clark's eyes brightened.

"The next time," said he, "I'll load my pistols fresh, and then see if
he'll escape me!"

At this a noise was heard in the hall. Potts went out. The servants had
been scouring the grounds as before, but with no result.

"No use," said John. "I tried it with my dog. He went straight down
through the gate, and a little distance outside the scent was lost. I
tried him with Mrs. Compton too. They both went together, and of course
had horses or carriages there."

"What does the porter say?" asked Clark.

"He swears that he was up till two, and then went to bed, and that
nobody was near the gate."

"Well, we can't do any thing," said Potts; "but I'll send some of the
servants off to see what they can hear. The scent was lost so soon that
we can't tell what direction they took.

"You'll never get her again," said John; "she's gone for good this
time."

Potts swore a deep oath and relapsed into silence. After a time they all
went down to the bank.

CHAPTER XLIX.

THE RUN ON THE BANK.

Not long after the bank opened a number of people came in who asked for
gold in return for some bank-notes which they offered. This was an
unusual circumstance. The people also were strangers. Potts wondered
what it could mean. There was no help for it, however. The gold was paid
out, and Potts and his friends began to feel somewhat alarmed at the
thought which now presented itself for the first time that their very
large circulation of notes might be returned upon them. He communicated
this fear to Clark.

"How much gold have you?"

"Very little."

"How much?"

"Thirty thousand."

"Phew!" said Clark, "and nearly two hundred thousand out in notes!"

Potts was silent.

"What'll you do if there is a run on the bank?"

"Oh, there won't be."

"Why not?"

"My credit is too good."

"Your credit won't be worth a rush if people know this."

While they talked persons kept dropping in. Most of the villagers and
people of the neighborhood brought back the notes, demanding gold. By
about twelve o'clock the influx was constant.

Potts began to feel alarmed. He went out, and tried to bully some of the
villagers. They did not seem to pay any attention to him, however. Potts
went back to his parlor discomfited, vowing vengeance against those who
had thus slighted him. The worst of these was the tailor, who brought in
notes to the extent of a thousand pounds, and when Potts ordered him out
and told him to wait, only laughed in his face.

"Haven't you got gold enough?" said the tailor, with a sneer. "Are you
afraid of the bank? Well, old Potts, so am I."

At this there was a general laugh among the people.

The bank clerks did not at all sympathize with the bank. They were too
eager to pay out. Potts had to check them. He called them in his parlor,
and ordered them to pay out more slowly. They all declared that they
couldn't.

The day dragged on till at last three o'clock came. Fifteen thousand
pounds had been paid out. Potts fell into deep despondency. Clark had
remained throughout the whole morning.

"There's going to be a run on the bank!" said he. "It's only begun."

Potts's sole answer was a curse.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"You'll have to help me," replied Potts. "You've got something."

"I've got fifty thousand pounds in the Plymouth Bank."

"You'll have to let me have it."

Clark hesitated.

"I don't know," said he.

"D-n it, man, I'll give you any security you wish. I've got more
security than I know what to do with."

"Well," said Clark, "I don't know. There's a risk."

"I only want it for a few days. I'll send down stock to my London broker
and have it sold. It will give me hundreds of thousands--twice as much
as all the bank issue. Then I'll pay up these devils well, and that d
----d tailor worst of all. I swear I'll send it all down to-day, and have
every bit of it sold. If there's going to be a run, I'll be ready for
them."

"How much have you?"

"I'll send it all down--though I'm devilish sorry," continued Potts.
"How much? why, see here;" and he penciled down the following figures on
a piece of paper, which he showed to Clark:

California Company.................L100,000
Mexican bonds ..................... 50,000
Guatemala do. ..................... 50,000
Venezuela do. ..................... 50,000
--------
L250,000

"What do you think of that, my boy?" said Potts.

"Well," returned Clark, cautiously, "I don't like them American names."

"Why," said Potts, "the stock is at a premium. I've been getting from
twenty to twenty-five per cent. dividends. They'll sell for three
hundred thousand nearly. I'll sell them all. I'll sell them all," he
cried. "I'll have gold enough to put a stop to this sort of thing
forever."

"I thought you had some French and Russian bonds," said Clark.

"I gave those to that devil who had the--the papers, you know. He
consented to take them, and I was very glad, for they paid less than the
others."

Clark was silent.

"Why, man, what are you thinking about? Don't you know that I'm good for
two millions, what with my estate and my stock?"

"But you owe an infernal lot."

"And haven't I notes and other securities from every body?"

"Yes, from every body; but how can you get hold of them?"

"The first people of the county!"

"And as poor as rats."

"London merchants!"

"Who are they? How can you get back your money?"

"Smithers & Co. will let me have what I want."

"If Smithers & Co. knew the present state of affairs I rather think that
they'd back down."

"Pooh! What! Back down from a man with my means! Nonsense! They know how
rich I am, or they never would have begun. Come, don't be a fool. It'll
take three days to get gold for my stock, and if you don't help me the
bank may stop before I get it. If you'll help me for three days I'll pay
you well."

[Illustration: THE RUN ON THE BANK]

"How much will you give?"

"I'll give ten thousand pounds--there! I don't mind."

"Done. Give me your note for sixty thousand pounds, and I'll let you
have the fifty thousand for three days."

"All right. You've got me where my hair is short; but I don't mind. When
can I have the money?"

"The day after to-morrow. I'll go to Plymouth now, get the money to-
morrow, and you can use it the next day."

"All right; I'll send down John to London with the stock, and he'll
bring up the gold at once."

Clark started off immediately for Plymouth, and not long after John went
away to London. Potts remained to await the storm which he dreaded.

The next day came. The bank opened late on purpose. Potts put up a
notice that it was to be closed that day at twelve, on account of the
absence of some of the directors.

At about eleven the crowd of people began to make their appearance as
before. Their demands were somewhat larger than on the previous day.
Before twelve ten thousand pounds had been paid. At twelve the bank was
shut in the faces of the clamorous people, in accordance with the
notice.

Strangers were there from all parts of the county. The village inn was
crowded, and a large number of carriages was outside. Potts began to
look forward to the next day with deep anxiety. Only five thousand
pounds remained in the bank. One man had come with notes to the extent
of five thousand, and had only been got rid of by the shutting of the
bank. He left, vowing vengeance.

To Potts's immense relief Clark made his appearance early on the
following day. He had brought the money. Potts gave him his note for
sixty thousand pounds, and the third day began.

By ten o'clock the doors were besieged by the largest crowd that had
ever assembled in this quiet village. Another host of lookers-on had
collected. When the doors were opened they poured in with a rush.

The demands on this third day were very large. The man with the five
thousand had fought his way to the counter first, and clamored to be
paid. The noise and confusion were overpowering. Every body was cursing
the bank or laughing at it. Each one felt doubtful about getting his
pay. Potts tried to be dignified for a time. He ordered them to be
quiet, and assured them that they would all be paid. His voice was
drowned in the wild uproar. The clerks counted out the gold as rapidly
as possible, in spite of the remonstrances of Potts, who on three
occasions called them all into the parlor, and threatened to dismiss
them unless they counted more slowly. His threats were disregarded. They
went back, and paid out as rapidly as before. The amounts required
ranged from five or ten pounds to thousands of pounds. At last, after
paying out thousands, one man came up who had notes to the amount of ten
thousand pounds. This was the largest demand that had yet been made. It
was doubtful whether there was so large an amount left. Potts came out
to see him. There was no help for it; he had to parley with the enemy.

He told him that it was within a few minutes of three, and that it would
take an hour at least to count out so much--would he not wait till the
next day? There would be ample time then.

The man had no objection. It was all the same to him. He went out with
his bundle of notes through the crowd, telling them that the bank could
not pay him. This intelligence made the excitement still greater. There
was a fierce rush to the counter. The clerks worked hard, and paid out
what they could in spite of the hints and even the threats of Potts,
till at length the bank clock struck the hour of three. It had been put
forward twenty minutes, and there was a great riot among the people on
that account, but they could not do any thing. The bank was closed for
the day, and they had to depart.

Both Potts and Clark now waited eagerly for the return of John. He was
expected before the next day. He ought to be in by midnight. After
waiting impatiently for hours they at length drove out to see if they
could find him.

About twelve miles from Brandon they met him at midnight with a team of
horses and a number of men, all of whom were armed.

"Have you got it?"

"Yes," said John, "what there is of it."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'm too tired to explain. Wait till we get home."

It was four o'clock in the morning before they reached the bank. The
gold was taken out and deposited in the vaults, and the three went up to
the Hall. They brought out brandy and refreshed themselves, after which
John remarked, in his usual laconic style,

"You've been and gone and done it."

"What?" asked Potts, somewhat puzzled.

"With your speculations in stocks."

"What about them?"

"Nothing," said John, "only they happen to be at a small discount."

"A discount?"

"Slightly."

Potts was silent.

"How much?" asked Clark.

"I have a statement here," said John. "When I got to London, I saw the
broker. He said that American stocks, particularly those which I held,
had undergone a great depreciation. He assured me that it was only
temporary, that the dividends which these stocks paid were enough to
raise them in a short time, perhaps in a few weeks, and that it was
madness to sell out now. He declared that it would ruin the credit of
the Brandon Bank if it were known that we sold out at such a fearful
sacrifice, and advised me to raise the money at a less cost.

"Well, I could only think of Smithers & Co. I went to their office. They
were all away. I saw one of the clerks who said they had gone to see
about some Russian loan or other, so there was nothing to do but to go
back to the broker. He assured me again that it was an unheard of
sacrifice; that these very stocks which I held had fallen terribly, he
knew not how, and advised me to do any thing rather than make such a
sacrifice. But I could do nothing. Gold was what I wanted, and since
Smithers & Co. were away this was the only way to get it."

"Well!" cried Potts, eagerly. "Did you get it?"

"You saw that I got it. I sold out at a cost that is next to ruin."

"What is it?"

"Well," said John, "I will give you the statement of the broker," and he
drew from his pocket a paper which he handed to the others. They looked
at it eagerly.

It was as follows:

100 shares California @ L1000 each. 65 per
cent, discount........................L35,000
50 shares Mexican. 75 per cent, discount 12,500
50 shares Guatemala. 80 per cent, dis-
count ................................ 10,000
50 shares Venezuela. 80 per cent discount 10,000
-------
L67,000

The faces of Potts and Clark grew black as night as they read this. A
deep execration burst from Potts. Clark leaned back in his chair.

"The bank's blown up!" said he.

"No, it ain't," rejoined Potts.

"Why not?"

"There's gold enough to pay all that's likely to be offered."

"How much more do you think will be offered?"

"Not much; it stands to reason."

"It stands to reason that every note which you've issued will be sent
back to you. So I'll trouble you to give me my sixty thousand; and I
advise you as a friend to hold on to the rest."

"Clark!" said Potts, "you're getting timider and timider. You ain't got
any more pluck these times than a kitten."

"It's a time when a man's got to be careful of his earnings," said
Clark. "How much have you out in notes? You told me once you had out
about L180,000, perhaps more. Well, you've already had to redeem about
L75,000. That leaves L105,000 yet, and you've only got L67,000 to pay it
with. What have you got to say to that?"

"Well!" said Potts. "The Brandon Bank may go--but what then? You forget
that I have the Brandon estate. That's worth two millions."

"You got it for two hundred thousand."

"Because it was thrown away, and dropped into my hands."

"It'll be thrown away again at this rate. You owe Smithers & Co."

"Pooh! that's all offset by securities which I hold."

"Queer securities!"

"All good," said Potts. "All first-rate. It'll be all right. We'll have
to put it through."

"But what if it isn't all right?" asked Clark, savagely.

"You forget that I have Smithers & Co. to fall back on."

"If your bank breaks, there is an end of Smithers & Co."

"Oh no. I've got this estate to fall back on, and they know it. I can
easily explain to them. If they had only been in town I shouldn't have
had to make this sacrifice. You needn't feel troubled about your money.
I'll give you security on the estate to any amount. I'll give you
security for seventy thousand," said Potts.

Clark thought for a while.

"Well!" said he, "it's a risk, but I'll run it"

"There isn't time to get a lawyer now to make out the papers; but
whenever you fetch one I'll do it"

"I'll get one to-day, and you'll sign the papers this evening. In my
opinion by that time the bank'll be shut up for good, and you're a fool
for your pains. You're simply throwing away what gold you have."

Potts went down not long after. It was the fourth day of the run.
Miscellaneous callers thronged the place, but the amounts were not
large. In two hours not more than five thousand were paid out.

At length a man came in with a carpet-bag. He pulled out a vast quantity
of notes.

"How much?" asked the clerk, blandly.

"Thirty thousand pounds," said the man.

Potts heard this and came out.

"How much?" he asked.

"Thirty thousand pounds."

"Do you want it in gold?"

"Of course."

"Will you take a draft on Messrs. Smithers & Co.?"

"No, I want gold."

While Potts was talking to this man another was waiting patiently beside
him. Of course this imperative claimant had to be paid or else the bank
would have to stop, and this was a casualty which Potts could not yet
face with calmness. Before it came to that he was determined to pay out
his last sovereign.

On paying the thirty thousand pounds it was found that there were only
two bags left of two thousand pounds each.

The other man who had waited stood calmly, while the one who had been
paid was making arrangements about conveying his money away.

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