Provisional Committee.
SIR POLLOXFEN TREMENS, Bart. Of Toddymains.
TAVISH M’TAVISH of Invertavish.
THE M’CLOSKIE.
AUGUST REGINALD DUNSHUNNER, Esq. of St. Mirrens.
SAMUEL SAWLEY, Esq., Merchant.
MHIC-MHAC-VICH-INDUIBH.
PHELIM O’FINLAN, Esq. of Castle-Rock, Ireland.
THE CAPTAIN of M’ALCOHOL.
FACTOR for GLENTUMBLERS.
JOHN JOB JOBSON, Esq., Manufacturer.
EVAN M’CLAW of Glenscart and Inveryewky.
JOSEPH HECKLES, Esq.
HABAKKUK GRABBIE, Portioner in Ramoth-Drumclog.
_Engineer_, WALTER SOLDER, Esq.
_Interim Secretary_, ROBERT M’CORKINDALE, Esq.
“The necessity of a direct line of Railway communication through the
fertile and populous district known as the VALLEY OF GLENMUTCHKIN
has been long felt and universally acknowledged. Independently of the
surpassing grandeur of its mountain scenery, which shall immediately
be referred to, and other considerations of even greater importance,
GLENMUTCHKIN is known to the capitalist as the most important
BREEDING-STATION in the Highlands of Scotland, and indeed as the great
emporium from which the southern markets are supplied. It has been
calculated by a most eminent authority that every acre in the strath
is capable of rearing twenty head of cattle; and as it has been
ascertained, after a careful admeasurement, that there are not less
than TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND improvable acres immediately contiguous to the
proposed line of Railway, it may confidently be assumed that the number
of Cattle to be conveyed along the line will amount to FOUR MILLIONS
annually, which, at the lowest estimate, would yield a revenue larger,
in proportion to the capital subscribed, than that of any Railway as yet
completed within the United Kingdom. From this estimate the traffic in
Sheep and Goats, with which the mountains are literally covered, has
been carefully excluded, it having been found quite impossible (from
its extent) to compute the actual revenue to be drawn from that most
important branch. It may, however, be roughly assumed as from seventeen
to nineteen per cent. upon the whole, after deduction of the working
expenses.
“The population of Glenmutchkin is extremely dense. Its situation on
the west coast has afforded it the means of direct communication with
America, of which for many years the inhabitants have actively availed
themselves. Indeed, the amount of exportation of live stock from this
part of the Highlands to the Western continent has more than once
attracted the attention of Parliament. The Manufactures are large and
comprehensive, and include the most famous distilleries in the world.
The Minerals are most abundant, and among these may be reckoned quartz,
porphyry, felspar, malachite, manganese, and basalt.
“At the foot of the valley, and close to the sea, lies the important
village known as the CLACHAN of INVERSTARVE. It is supposed by various
eminent antiquaries to have been the capital of the Picts, and, among
the busy inroads of commercial prosperity, it still retains some
interesting traces of its former grandeur. There is a large fishing
station here, to which vessels from every nation resort, and the demand
for foreign produce is daily and steadily increasing.
“As a sporting country Glenmutchkin is unrivalled; but it is by the
tourists that its beauties will most greedily be sought. These consist
of every combination which plastic nature can afford: cliffs of unusual
magnitude and grandeur; waterfalls only second to the sublime cascades
of Norway; woods of which the bark is a remarkably valuable commodity.
It need scarcely be added, to rouse the enthusiasm inseparable from this
glorious glen, that here, in 1745, Prince Charles Edward Stuart, then in
the zenith of his hopes, was joined by the brave Sir Grugar M’Grugar at
the head of his devoted clan.
“The Railway will be twelve miles long, and can be completed within six
months after the Act of Parliament is obtained. The gradients are easy,
and the curves obtuse. There are no viaducts of any importance, and only
four tunnels along the whole length of the line. The shortest of these
does not exceed a mile and a half.
“In conclusion, the projectors of this Railway beg to state that they
have determined, as a principle, to set their face AGAINST ALL SUNDAY
TRAVELLING WHATSOEVER, and to oppose EVERY BILL which may hereafter
be brought into Parliament, unless it shall contain a clause to that
effect. It is also their intention to take up the cause of the poor and
neglected STOKER, for whose accommodation, and social, moral, religious,
and intellectual improvement, a large stock of evangelical tracts will
speedily be required. Tenders of these, in quantities of not less than
12,000, may be sent in to the Interim Secretary. Shares must be applied
for within ten days from the present date.
“By order of the Provisional Committee,
“ROBERT M’CORKINDALE, _Secretary_.”
“There!” said Bob, slapping down the prospectus on the table with as
much triumph as if it had been the original of Magna Charta, “what do
you think of that? If it doesn’t do the business effectually, I shall
submit to be called a Dutchman. That last touch about the stoker will
bring us in the subscriptions of the old ladies by the score.”
“Very masterly indeed,” said I. “But who the deuce is
Mhic-Mhac-vich-Induibh?”
“A bona-fide chief, I assure you, though a little reduced. I picked him
up upon the Broomielaw. His grandfather had an island somewhere to the
west of the Hebrides; but it is not laid down in the maps.”
“And the Captain of M’Alcohol?”
“A crack distiller.”
“And the Factor for Glentumblers?”
“His principal customer. But, bless you, my dear St. Mirrens! Don’t
bother yourself any more about the committee. They are as respectable a
set--on paper at least--as you would wish to see of a summer’s morning,
and the beauty of it is that they will give us no manner of trouble. Now
about the allocation. You and I must restrict ourselves to a couple of
thousand shares apiece. That’s only a third of the whole, but it won’t
do to be greedy.”
“But, Bob, consider! Where on earth are we to find the money to pay up
the deposits?”
“Can you, the principal director of the Glenmutchkin Railway, ask me,
the secretary, such a question? Don’t you know that any of the banks
will give us tick to the amount ‘of half the deposits.’ All that is
settled already, and you can get your two thousand pounds whenever you
please merely for the signing of a bill. Sawley must get a thousand
according to stipulation; Jobson, Heckles, and Grabbie, at least five
hundred apiece; and another five hundred, I should think, will exhaust
the remaining means of the committee. So that, out of our whole
stock, there remain just five thousand shares to be allocated to the
speculative and evangelical public. My eyes! Won’t there be a scramble
for them!”
Next day our prospectus appeared in the newspapers. It was read,
canvassed, and generally approved of. During the afternoon I took an
opportunity of looking into the Tontine, and, while under shelter of
the Glasgow “Herald,” my ears were solaced with such ejaculations as the
following:
“I say, Jimsy, hae ye seen this grand new prospectus for a railway tae
Glenmutchkin?”
“Ay. It looks no that ill. The Hieland lairds are pitting their best
foremost. Will ye apply for shares?”
“I think I’ll tak’ twa hundred. Wha’s Sir Polloxfen Tremens?”
“He’ll be yin o’ the Ayrshire folk. He used to rin horses at the Paisley
races.”
(“The devil he did!” thought I.)
“D’ ye ken ony o’ the directors, Jimsy?”
“I ken Sawley fine. Ye may depend on ‘t, it’s a gude thing if he’s in
‘t, for he’s a howkin’ body.
“Then it’s sure to gae up. What prem. d’ ye think it will bring?”
“Twa pund a share, and maybe mair.”
“‘Od, I’ll apply for three hundred!”
“Heaven bless you, my dear countrymen!” thought I, as I sallied forth to
refresh myself with a basin of soup, “do but maintain this liberal
and patriotic feeling--this thirst for national improvement, internal
communication, and premiums--a short while longer, and I know whose
fortune will be made.”
On the following morning my breakfast-table was covered with shoals of
letters, from fellows whom I scarcely ever had spoken to,--or who, to
use a franker phraseology, had scarcely ever condescended to speak to
me,--entreating my influence as a director to obtain them shares in the
new undertaking. I never bore malice in my life, so I chalked them down,
without favouritism, for a certain proportion. While engaged in this
charitable work, the door flew open, and M’Corkindale, looking utterly
haggard with excitement, rushed in.
“You may buy an estate whenever you please, Dunshunner,” cried he; “the
world’s gone perfectly mad! I have been to Blazes, the broker, and he
tells me that the whole amount of the stock has been subscribed for four
times over already, and he has not yet got in the returns from Edinburgh
and Liverpool!”
“Are they good names, though, Bob--sure cards--none of your M’Closkies
and M’Alcohols?”
“The first names in the city, I assure you, and most of them holders for
investment. I wouldn’t take ten millions for their capital.”
“Then the sooner we close the list the better.”
“I think so too. I suspect a rival company will be out before long.
Blazes says the shares are selling already conditionally on allotment,
at seven and sixpence premium.”
“The deuce they are! I say, Bob, since we have the cards in our hands,
would it not be wise to favour them with a few hundreds at that rate? A
bird in the hand, you know, is worth two in the bush, eh?”
“I know no such maxim in political economy,” replied the secretary. “Are
you mad, Dunshunner? How are the shares to go up, if it gets wind that
the directors are selling already? Our business just now is to _bull_
the line, not to _bear_ it; and if you will trust me, I shall show them
such an operation on the ascending scale as the Stock Exchange has not
witnessed for this long and many a day. Then to-morrow I shall advertise
in the papers that the committee, having received applications for ten
times the amount of stock, have been compelled, unwillingly, to close
the lists. That will be a slap in the face to the dilatory gentlemen,
and send up the shares like wildfire.”
Bob was right. No sooner did the advertisement appear than a
simultaneous groan was uttered by some hundreds of disappointed
speculators, who, with unwonted and unnecessary caution, had been
anxious to see their way a little before committing themselves to our
splendid enterprise. In consequence, they rushed into the market, with
intense anxiety to make what terms they could at the earliest stage,
and the seven and sixpence of premium was doubled in the course of a
forenoon.
The allocation passed over very peaceably. Sawley, Heckles, Jobson,
Grabbie, and the Captain of M’Alcohol, besides myself, attended, and
took part in the business. We were also threatened with the presence
of the M’Closkie and Vich-Induibh; but M’Corkindale, entertaining some
reasonable doubts as to the effect which their corporeal appearance
might have upon the representatives of the dissenting interest, had
taken the precaution to get them snugly housed in a tavern, where an
unbounded supply of gratuitous Ferintosh deprived us of the benefit of
their experience. We, however, allotted them twenty shares apiece. Sir
Polloxfen Tremens sent a handsome, though rather illegible, letter of
apology, dated from an island in Loch Lomond, where he was said to be
detained on particular business.
Mr. Sawley, who officiated as our chairman, was kind enough, before
parting, to pass a very flattering eulogium upon the excellence and
candour of all the preliminary arrangements. It would now, he said, go
forth to the public that the line was not, like some others he could
mention, a mere bubble, emanating from the stank of private interest,
but a solid, lasting superstructure, based upon the principles of sound
return for capital, and serious evangelical truth (hear, hear!). The
time was fast approaching when the gravestone with the words “HIC OBIT”
chiselled upon it would be placed at the head of all the other lines
which rejected the grand opportunity of conveying education to the
stoker. The stoker, in his (Mr. Sawley’s) opinion, had a right to ask
the all-important question, “Am I not a man and a brother?” (Cheers.)
Much had been said and written lately about a work called “Tracts for
the Times.” With the opinions contained in that publication he was not
conversant, as it was conducted by persons of another community from
that to which he (Mr. Sawley) had the privilege to belong. But he hoped
very soon, under the auspices of the Glenmutchkin Railway Company, to
see a new periodical established, under the title of “Tracts for the
Trains.” He never for a moment would relax his efforts to knock a nail
into the coffin which, he might say, was already made and measured and
cloth-covered for the reception of all establishments; and with these
sentiments, and the conviction that the shares must rise, could it be
doubted that he would remain a fast friend to the interests of this
company for ever? (Much cheering.)
After having delivered this address, Mr. Sawley affectionately squeezed
the hands of his brother directors, and departed, leaving several of us
much overcome. As, however, M’Corkindale had told me that every one of
Sawley’s shares had been disposed of in the market the day before, I
felt less compunction at having refused to allow that excellent man an
extra thousand beyond the amount he had applied for, notwithstanding his
broadest hints and even private entreaties.
“Confound the greedy hypocrite!” said Bob; “does he think we shall let
him burke the line for nothing? No--no! let him go to the brokers and
buy his shares back, if he thinks they are likely to rise. I’ll be bound
he has made a cool five hundred out of them already.”
On the day which succeeded the allocation, the following entry appeared
in the Glasgow sharelists: “Direct Glenmutchkin Railway 15s. 15s. 6d.
15s. 6d. 16s. 15s. 6d. 16s. 16s. 6d. 16s. 6d. 16s. 17s. 18s. 18s. 19s.
6d. 21s. 21s. 22s. 6d. 24s. 25s. 6d. 27s. 29s. 29s. 6d. 30s. 31s.”
“They might go higher, and they ought to go higher,” said Bob, musingly;
“but there’s not much more stock to come and go upon, and these
two share-sharks, Jobson and Grabbie, I know, will be in the market
to-morrow. We must not let them have the whip-hand of us. I think upon
the whole, Dunshunner, though it’s letting them go dog-cheap, that we
ought to sell half our shares at the present premium, while there is a
certainty of getting it.”
“Why not sell the whole? I’m sure I have no objections to part with
every stiver of the scrip on such terms.”
“Perhaps,” said Bob, “upon general principles you may be right; but then
remember that we have a vested interest in the line.”
“Vested interest be hanged!”
“That’s very well; at the same time it is no use to kill your salmon in
a hurry. The bulls have done their work pretty well for us, and we
ought to keep something on hand for the bears; they are snuffing at it
already. I could almost swear that some of those fellows who have sold
to-day are working for a time-bargain.”
We accordingly got rid of a couple of thousand shares, the proceeds of
which not only enabled us to discharge the deposit loan, but left us
a material surplus. Under these circumstances a two-handed banquet was
proposed and unanimously carried, the commencement of which I distinctly
remember, but am rather dubious as to the end. So many stories have
lately been circulated to the prejudice of railway directors that I
think it my duty to state that this entertainment was scrupulously
defrayed by ourselves and _not_ carried to account, either of the
preliminary survey, or the expenses of the provisional committee.
Nothing effects so great a metamorphosis in the bearing of the outer
man as a sudden change of fortune. The anemone of the garden differs
scarcely more from its unpretending prototype of the woods than Robert
M’Corkindale, Esq., Secretary and Projector of the Glenmutchkin Railway,
differed from Bob M’Corkindale, the seedy frequenter of “The Crow.” In
the days of yore, men eyed the surtout--napless at the velvet collar,
and preternaturally white at the seams--which Bob vouchsafed to wear
with looks of dim suspicion, as if some faint reminiscence, similar to
that which is said to recall the memory of a former state of existence,
suggested to them a notion that the garment had once been their own.
Indeed, his whole appearance was then wonderfully second-hand. Now he
had cast his slough. A most undeniable taglioni, with trimmings
just bordering upon frogs, gave dignity to his demeanour and twofold
amplitude to his chest. The horn eye-glass was exchanged for one of
purest gold, the dingy high-lows for well-waxed Wellingtons, the Paisley
fogle for the fabric of the China loom. Moreover, he walked with a
swagger, and affected in common conversation a peculiar dialect which
he opined to be the purest English, but which no one--except a
bagman--could be reasonably expected to understand. His pockets were
invariably crammed with sharelists; and he quoted, if he did not
comprehend, the money article from the “Times.” This sort of assumption,
though very ludicrous in itself, goes down wonderfully. Bob gradually
became a sort of authority, and his opinions got quoted on ‘Change. He
was no ass, notwithstanding his peculiarities, and made good use of his
opportunity.
For myself, I bore my new dignities with an air of modest meekness. A
certain degree of starchness is indispensable for a railway director, if
he means to go forward in his high calling and prosper; he must abandon
all juvenile eccentricities, and aim at the appearance of a decided
enemy to free trade in the article of Wild Oats. Accordingly, as the
first step toward respectability, I eschewed coloured waistcoats and
gave out that I was a marrying man. No man under forty, unless he is a
positive idiot, will stand forth as a theoretical bachelor. It is all
nonsense to say that there is anything unpleasant in being courted.
Attention, whether from male or female, tickles the vanity; and although
I have a reasonable, and, I hope, not unwholesome regard for the
gratification of my other appetites, I confess that this same vanity is
by far the most poignant of the whole. I therefore surrendered myself
freely to the soft allurements thrown in my way by such matronly
denizens of Glasgow as were possessed of stock in the shape of
marriageable daughters; and walked the more readily into their toils
because every party, though nominally for the purposes of tea, wound up
with a hot supper, and something hotter still by way of assisting the
digestion.
I don’t know whether it was my determined conduct at the allocation, my
territorial title, or a most exaggerated idea of my circumstances, that
worked upon the mind of Mr. Sawley. Possibly it was a combination of the
three; but, sure enough few days had elapsed before I received a
formal card of invitation to a tea and serous conversation. Now serious
conversation is a sort of thing that I never shone in, possibly because
my early studies were framed in a different direction; but as I really
was unwilling to offend the respectable coffin-maker, and as I found
that the Captain of M’Alcohol--a decided trump in his way--had also
received a summons, I notified my acceptance.
M’Alcohol and I went together. The captain, an enormous brawny Celt,
with superhuman whiskers and a shock of the fieriest hair, had figged
himself out, _more majorum_, in the full Highland costume. I never saw
Rob Roy on the stage look half so dignified or ferocious. He glittered
from head to foot with dirk, pistol, and skean-dhu; and at least a
hundredweight of cairngorms cast a prismatic glory around his person. I
felt quite abashed beside him.
We were ushered into Mr. Sawley’s drawing-room. Round the walls, and
at considerable distances from each other, were seated about a dozen
characters, male and female, all of them dressed in sable, and wearing
countenances of woe. Sawley advanced, and wrung me by the hand with
so piteous an expression of visage that I could not help thinking some
awful catastrophe had just befallen his family.
“You are welcome, Mr. Dunshunner--welcome to my humble tabernacle. Let
me present you to Mrs. Sawley”--and a lady, who seemed to have bathed
in the Yellow Sea, rose from her seat, and favoured me with a profound
curtsey.
“My daughter--Miss Selina Sawley.”
I felt in my brain the scorching glance of the two darkest eyes it ever
was my fortune to behold, as the beauteous Selina looked up from the
perusal of her handkerchief hem. It was a pity that the other features
were not corresponding; for the nose was flat, and the mouth of such
dimensions that a harlequin might have jumped down it with impunity; but
the eyes _were_ splendid.
In obedience to a sign from the hostess, I sank into a chair beside
Selina; and, not knowing exactly what to say, hazarded some observation
about the weather.
“Yes, it is indeed a suggestive season. How deeply, Mr. Dunshunner, we
ought to feel the pensive progress of autumn toward a soft and premature
decay! I always think, about this time of the year, that nature is
falling into a consumption!”
“To be sure, ma’am,” said I, rather taken aback by this style of
colloquy, “the trees are looking devilishly hectic.”
“Ah, you have remarked that too! Strange! It was but yesterday that I
was wandering through Kelvin Grove, and as the phantom breeze brought
down the withered foliage from the spray, I thought how probable it was
that they might ere long rustle over young and glowing hearts deposited
prematurely in the tomb!”
This, which struck me as a very passable imitation of Dickens’s pathetic
writings, was a poser. In default of language, I looked Miss Sawley
straight in the face, and attempted a substitute for a sigh. I was
rewarded with a tender glance.
“Ah,” said she, “I see you are a congenial spirit! How delightful,
and yet how rare, it is to meet with any one who thinks in unison with
yourself! Do you ever walk in the Necropolis, Mr. Dunshunner? It is my
favourite haunt of a morning. There we can wean ourselves, as it were,
from life, and beneath the melancholy yew and cypress, anticipate the
setting star. How often there have I seen the procession--the funeral of
some very, _very_ little child--”
“Selina, my love,” said Mrs. Sawley, “have the kindness to ring for the
cookies.”
I, as in duty bound, started up to save the fair enthusiast the trouble,
and was not sorry to observe my seat immediately occupied by a very
cadaverous gentleman, who was evidently jealous of the progress I was
rapidly making. Sawley, with an air of great mystery, informed me that
this was a Mr. Dalgleish of Raxmathrapple, the representative of an
ancient Scottish family who claimed an important heritable office. The
name, I thought, was familiar to me, but there was something in the
appearance of Mr. Dalgleish which, notwithstanding the smiles of
Miss Selina, rendered a rivalship in that quarter utterly out of the
question.
I hate injustice, so let me do the honour in description to the Sawley
banquet. The tea-urn most literally corresponded to its name. The table
was decked out with divers platters, containing seed-cakes cut into
rhomboids, almond biscuits, and ratafia-drops. Also on the sideboard
there were two salvers, each of which contained a congregation of
glasses, filled with port and sherry. The former fluid, as I afterward
ascertained, was of the kind advertised as “curious,” and proffered for
sale at the reasonable rate of sixteen shillings per dozen. The banquet,
on the whole, was rather peculiar than enticing; and, for the life of
me, I could not divest myself of the idea that the self-same viands had
figured, not long before, as funeral refreshments at a dirgie. No
such suspicion seemed to cross the mind of M’Alcohol, who hitherto had
remained uneasily surveying his nails in a corner, but at the first
symptom of food started forward, and was in the act of making a clean
sweep of the china, when Sawley proposed the singular preliminary of a
hymn.
The hymn was accordingly sung. I am thankful to say it was such a one
as I never heard before, or expect to hear again; and unless it was
composed by the Reverend Saunders Peden in an hour of paroxysm on the
moors, I cannot conjecture the author. After this original symphony, tea
was discussed, and after tea, to my amazement, more hot brandy-and-water
than I ever remember to have seen circulated at the most convivial
party. Of course this effected a radical change in the spirits and
conversation of the circle. It was again my lot to be placed by the side
of the fascinating Selina, whose sentimentality gradually thawed away
beneath the influence of sundry sips, which she accepted with a delicate
reluctance. This time Dalgleish of Raxmathrapple had not the remotest
chance. M’Alcohol got furious, sang Gaelic songs, and even delivered a
sermon in genuine Erse, without incurring a rebuke; while, for my own
part, I must needs confess that I waxed unnecessarily amorous, and the
last thing I recollect was the pressure of Mr. Sawley’s hand at the
door, as he denominated me his dear boy, and hoped I would soon come
back and visit Mrs. Sawley and Selina. The recollection of these
passages next morning was the surest antidote to my return.
Three weeks had elapsed, and still the Glenmutchkin Railway shares were
at a premium, though rather lower than when we sold. Our engineer,
Watty Solder, returned from his first survey of the line, along with
an assistant who really appeared to have some remote glimmerings of the
science and practice of mensuration. It seemed, from a verbal report,
that the line was actually practicable; and the survey would have
been completed in a very short time, “if,” according to the account
of Solder, “there had been ae hoos in the glen. But ever sin’ the
distillery stoppit--and that was twa year last Martinmas--there wasna a
hole whaur a Christian could lay his head, muckle less get white sugar
to his toddy, forby the change-house at the clachan; and the auld lucky
that keepit it was sair forfochten wi’ the palsy, and maist in the
dead-thraws. There was naebody else living within twal’ miles o’ the
line, barring a taxman, a lamiter, and a bauldie.”
We had some difficulty in preventing Mr. Solder from making this report
open and patent to the public, which premature disclosure might have
interfered materially with the preparation of our traffic tables, not
to mention the marketable value of the shares. We therefore kept him
steadily at work out of Glasgow, upon a very liberal allowance, to
which, apparently, he did not object.
“Dunshunner,” said M’Corkindale to me one day, “I suspect that there is
something going on about our railway more than we are aware of. Have you
observed that the shares are preternaturally high just now?”
“So much the better. Let’s sell.”
“I did so this morning, both yours and mine, at two pounds ten shillings
premium.”
“The deuce you did! Then we’re out of the whole concern.”
“Not quite. If my suspicions are correct, there’s a good deal more money
yet to be got from the speculation. Somebody had been bulling the stock
without orders; and, as they can have no information which we are not
perfectly up to, depend upon it, it is done for a purpose. I suspect
Sawley and his friends. They have never been quite happy since the
allocation; and I caught him yesterday pumping our broker in the
back shop. We’ll see in a day or two. If they are beginning a bearing
operation, I know how to catch them.”
And, in effect, the bearing operation commenced. Next day, heavy
sales were effected for delivery in three weeks; and the stock, as if
water-logged, began to sink. The same thing continued for the following
two days, until the premium became nearly nominal. In the meantime, Bob
and I, in conjunction with two leading capitalists whom we let into the
secret, bought up steadily every share that was offered; and at the end
of a fortnight we found that we had purchased rather more than double
the amount of the whole original stock. Sawley and his disciples, who,
as M’Corkindale suspected, were at the bottom of the whole transaction,
having beared to their hearts’ content, now came into the market to
purchase, in order to redeem their engagements.
I have no means of knowing in what frame of mind Mr. Sawley spent the
Sunday, or whether he had recourse for mental consolation to Peden;
but on Monday morning he presented himself at my door in full funeral
costume, with about a quarter of a mile of crape swathed round his hat,
black gloves, and a countenance infinitely more doleful than if he had
been attending the interment of his beloved wife.
“Walk in, Mr. Sawley,” said I, cheerfully. “What a long time it is
since I have had the pleasure of seeing you--too long indeed for brother
directors! How are Mrs. Sawley and Miss Selina? Won’t you take a cup of
coffee?”
“Grass, sir, grass!” said Mr. Sawley, with a sigh like the groan of
a furnace-bellows. “We are all flowers of the oven--weak, erring
creatures, every one of us. Ah, Mr. Dunshunner, you have been a great
stranger at Lykewake Terrace!”
“Take a muffin, Mr. Sawley. Anything new in the railway world?”
“Ah, my dear sir,--my good Mr. Augustus Reginald,--I wanted to have some
serious conversation with you on that very point. I am afraid there is
something far wrong indeed in the present state of our stock.”
“Why, to be sure it is high; but that, you know, is a token of the
public confidence in the line. After all, the rise is nothing compared
to that of several English railways; and individually, I suppose,
neither of us has any reason to complain.”
“I don’t like it,” said Sawley, watching me over the margin of his
coffee-cup; “I don’t like it. It savours too much of gambling for a man
of my habits. Selina, who is a sensible girl, has serious qualms on the
subject.”
“Then why not get out of it? I have no objection to run the risk, and if
you like to transact with me, I will pay you ready money for every share
you have at the present market price.”
Sawley writhed uneasily in his chair.
“Will you sell me five hundred, Mr. Sawley? Say the word and it is a
bargain.”
“A time-bargain?” quavered the coffin-maker.
“No. Money down, and scrip handed over.”
“I--I can’t. The fact is, my dear young friend, I have sold all my stock
already!”
“Then permit me to ask, Mr. Sawley, what possible objection you can have
to the present aspect of affairs? You do not surely suppose that we are
going to issue new shares and bring down the market, simply because you
have realised at a handsome premium?”
“A handsome premium! O Lord!” moaned Sawley.
“Why, what did you get for them?”
“Four, three, and two and a half.”
“A very considerable profit indeed,” said I; “and you ought to be
abundantly thankful. We shall talk this matter over at another time, Mr.
Sawley, but just now I must beg you to excuse me. I have a particular
engagement this morning with my broker--rather a heavy transaction to
settle--and so--”
“It’s no use beating about the bush any longer,” said Mr. Sawley, in an
excited tone, at the same time dashing down his crape-covered castor on
the floor. “Did you ever see a ruined man with a large family? Look at
me, Mr. Dunshunner--I’m one, and you’ve done it!”
“Mr. Sawley! Are you in your senses?”
“That depends on circumstances. Haven’t you been buying stock lately?”
“I am glad to say I have--two thousand Glenmutchkins, I think, and this
is the day of delivery.”
“Well, then, can’t you see how the matter stands? It was I who sold
them!”
“Well!”
“Mother of Moses, sir! Don’t you see I’m ruined?”
“By no means--but you must not swear. I pay over the money for
your scrip, and you pocket a premium. It seems to me a very simple
transaction.”
“But I tell you I haven’t got the scrip!” cried Sawley, gnashing his
teeth, while the cold beads of perspiration gathered largely on his
brow.
“That is very unfortunate! Have you lost it?”
“No! the devil tempted me, and I oversold!”
There was a very long pause, during which I assumed an aspect of serious
and dignified rebuke.
“Is it possible?” said I, in a low tone, after the manner of Kean’s
offended fathers. “What! you, Mr. Sawley--the stoker’s friend--the
enemy of gambling--the father of Selina--condescend to so equivocal a
transaction? You amaze me! But I never was the man to press heavily on a
friend”--here Sawley brightened up. “Your secret is safe with me, and
it shall be your own fault if it reaches the ears of the Session. Pay
me over the difference at the present market price, and I release you of
your obligation.”
“Then I’m in the Gazette, that’s all,” said Sawley, doggedly, “and a
wife and nine beautiful babes upon the parish! I had hoped other things
from you, Mr. Dunshunner--I thought you and Selina--”
“Nonsense, man! Nobody goes into the Gazette just now--it will be time
enough when the general crash comes. Out with your cheque-book, and
write me an order for four and twenty thousand. Confound fractions! In
these days one can afford to be liberal.”
“I haven’t got it,” said Sawley. “You have no idea how bad our trade
has been of late, for nobody seems to think of dying. I have not sold a
gross of coffins this fortnight. But I’ll tell you what--I’ll give you
five thousand down in cash, and ten thousand in shares; further I can’t
go.”
“Now, Mr. Sawley,” said I, “I may be blamed by worldly-minded persons
for what I am going to do; but I am a man of principle, and feel deeply
for the situation of your amiable wife and family. I bear no malice,
though it is quite clear that you intended to make me the sufferer. Pay
me fifteen thousand over the counter, and we cry quits for ever.”
“Won’t you take the Camlachie Cemetery shares? They are sure to go up.”
“No!”
“Twelve hundred Cowcaddens Water, with an issue of new stock next week?”
“Not if they disseminated the Gauges!”
“A thousand Ramshorn Gas--four per cent. guaranteed until the act?”
“Not if they promised twenty, and melted down the sun in their retort!”
“Blawweary Iron? Best spec. going.”
“No, I tell you once for all! If you don’t like my offer,--and it is an
uncommonly liberal one,--say so, and I’ll expose you this afternoon upon
‘Change.”
“Well then, there’s a cheque. But may the--”
“Stop, sir! Any such profane expressions, and I shall insist upon
the original bargain. So then, now we’re quits. I wish you a very
good-morning, Mr. Sawley, and better luck next time. Pray remember me to
your amiable family.”
The door had hardly closed upon the discomfited coffin-maker, and I was
still in the preliminary steps of an extempore _pas seul_, intended as
the outward demonstration of exceeding inward joy, when Bob M’Corkindale
entered. I told him the result of the morning’s conference.
“You have let him off too easily,” said the political economist. “Had
I been his creditor, I certainly should have sacked the shares into the
bargain. There is nothing like rigid dealing between man and man.”
“I am contented with moderate profits,” said I; “besides, the image of
Selina overcame me. How goes it with Jobson and Grabbie?”
“Jobson had paid, and Grabbie compounded. Heckles--may he die an evil
death!--has repudiated, become a lame duck, and waddled; but no doubt
his estate will pay a dividend.”
“So then, we are clear of the whole Glenmutchkin business, and at a
handsome profit.”
“A fair interest for the outlay of capital--nothing more. But I’m not
quite done with the concern yet.”
“How so? not another bearing operation?”
“No; that cock would hardly fight. But you forget that I am secretary to
the company, and have a small account against them for services already
rendered. I must do what I can to carry the bill through Parliament;
and, as you have now sold your whole shares, I advise you to resign from
the direction, go down straight to Glenmutchkin, and qualify yourself
for a witness. We shall give you five guineas a day, and pay all your
expenses.”
“Not a bad notion. But what has become of M’Closkie, and the other
fellow with the jaw-breaking name?”
“Vich-Induibh? I have looked after their interests as in duty bound,
sold their shares at a large premium, and despatched them to their
native hills on annuities.”
“And Sir Polloxfen?”
“Died yesterday of spontaneous combustion.”
As the company seemed breaking up, I thought I could not do better than
take M’Corkindale’s hint, and accordingly betook myself to Glenmutchkin,
along with the Captain of M’Alcohol, and we quartered ourselves upon
the Factor for Glentumblers. We found Watty Solder very shaky, and his
assistant also lapsing into habits of painful inebriety. We saw little
of them except of an evening, for we shot and fished the whole day, and
made ourselves remarkably comfortable. By singular good luck, the plans
and sections were lodged in time, and the Board of Trade very handsomely
reported in our favour, with a recommendation of what they were pleased
to call “the Glenmutchkin system,” and a hope that it might generally be
carried out. What this system was, I never clearly understood; but,
of course, none of us had any objections. This circumstance gave an
additional impetus to the shares, and they once more went up. I was,
however, too cautious to plunge a second time in to Charybdis, but
M’Corkindale did, and again emerged with plunder.
When the time came for the parliamentary contest, we all emigrated to
London. I still recollect, with lively satisfaction, the many pleasant
days we spent in the metropolis at the company’s expense. There were
just a neat fifty of us, and we occupied the whole of a hotel. The
discussion before the committee was long and formidable. We were opposed
by four other companies who patronised lines, of which the nearest was
at least a hundred miles distant from Glenmutchkin; but as they founded
their opposition upon dissent from “the Glenmutchkin system” generally,
the committee allowed them to be heard. We fought for three weeks a most
desperate battle, and might in the end have been victorious, had not our
last antagonist, at the very close of his case, pointed out no less than
seventy-three fatal errors in the parliamentary plan deposited by the
unfortunate Solder. Why this was not done earlier, I never
exactly understood; it may be that our opponents, with gentlemanly
consideration, were unwilling to curtail our sojourn in London--and
their own. The drama was now finally closed, and after all preliminary
expenses were paid, sixpence per share was returned to the holders upon
surrender of their scrip.
Such is an accurate history of the Origin, Rise, Progress, and Fall of
the Direct Glenmutchkin Railway. It contains a deep moral, if anybody
has sense enough to see it; if not, I have a new project in my eye for
next session, of which timely notice shall be given.