If Mr. Davenport Dunn had passed a day of unusual happiness and ease,
the night which followed was destined to be one of intense labor and
toil. Scarcely had the quiet of repose settled down upon the Hermitage,
than the quick tramp of horses, urged to their sharpest trot, was
heard approaching, and soon after Mr. Hankes descended from his
travelling-carriage at the door.
Dunn had been standing at his open window gazing into the still
obscurity of the night, and wondering at what time he might expect him,
when he arrived.
“You have made haste, Hankes,” said he, not wasting a word in
salutation. “I scarcely looked to see you before daybreak.”
“Yes, sir; the special train behaved well, and the posters did their
part as creditably. I had about four hours altogether in Dublin, but
they were quite sufficient for everything.”
“For everything?” repeated Dunn.
“Yes; you'll find nothing has been forgotten. Before leaving Cork, I
telegraphed to Meekins of the 'Post,' and to Browne of the 'Banner,'
to meet me on my arrival at Henrietta Street. Strange enough, they both
were anxiously waiting for some instructions on the very question at
issue. They came armed with piles of provincial papers, all written
in the same threatening style. One in particular, the 'Upper Ossory
Beacon,' had an article headed, 'Who is our Dionysius?'”
“Never mind that,” broke in Dunn, impatiently. “You explained to them
the line to be taken?”
“Fully, sir. I told them that they were to answer the attacks weakly,
feebly, deprecating in general terms the use of personalities, and
throwing out little appeals for forbearance, and so on. On the question
of the Bank, I said, 'Be somewhat more resolute; hint that certain
aspersions might be deemed actionable; that wantonly to assail credit is
an offence punishable at law; and then dwell upon the benefits already
diffused by these establishments, and implore all who have the interest
of Ireland at heart not to suffer a spirit of faction to triumph over
their patriotism.'”
“Will they understand the part?” asked Dunn, more impatiently than
before.
“Thoroughly; Browne, indeed, has a leader already 'set up'--”
“What do I care for all these?” broke in Dunn, peevishly. “Surely no man
knows better than yourself that these fellows are only the feathers that
show where the wind blows. As to any influence they wield over public
opinion, you might as well tell me that the man who sweats a guinea can
sway the Stock Exchange.”
Hankes shook his head dissentingly, but made no reply.
“You have brought the Bank accounts and the balance-sheet?”
“Yes, they are all here.”
“Have you made any rough calculation as to the amount--” He stopped.
“Fifty thousand ought to cover it easily--I mean with what they have
themselves in hand. The first day will be a heavy one, but I don't
suspect the second will, particularly when it is known that we are
discounting freely as ever.”
“And now as to the main point?” said Dunn.
“All right, sir. Etheridge's securities give us seventeen thousand; we
have a balance of about eleven on that account of Lord Lackington; I
drew out the twelve hundred of Kellett's at once; and several other
small sums, which are all ready.”
“It _is_ a bold stroke!” muttered Dunn, musingly.
“None but an original mind could have hit upon it, sir. I used to
think the late Mr. Robins a very great man, sir,--and he _was_ a great
man,--but this is a cut above him.”
“Let us say so when it has succeeded, Hankes,” said Dunn, with a
half-smile.
As he spoke, he seated himself at the table, and, opening a massive
account-book, was soon deep in its details. Hankes took a place beside
him, and they both continued to con over the long column of figures
together.
“We stand in a safer position than I thought, Hankes,” said Dunn,
leaning back in his chair.
“Yes, sir; we have been nursing this Ossory Bank for some time. You
remember, some time ago, saying to me, 'Hankes, put condition on that
horse, we 'll have to ride him hard before the season is over'?”
“Well, you have done it cleverly, I must say,” resumed Dunn. “This
concern is almost solvent.”
“Almost, sir,” echoed Hankes.
“What a shake it will give them all, Hankes,” said Dunn, gleefully,
“when it once sets in, as it will and must, powerfully! The Provincial
will stand easily enough.”
“To be sure, sir.”
“And the Royal, also; but the 'Tyrawley'--”
“And the 'Four Counties,'” added Hankes. “Driscoll is ready with four
thousand of the notes 'to open the ball,' as he says, and when Terry's
name gets abroad it will be worse to them than a placard on the walls.”
“I shall not be sorry for the 'Four Counties.' It was Mr. Morris, the
chairman, had the insolence to allude to me in the House, and ask if it
were true that the Ministry had recommended Mr. Davenport Dunn as a fit
object for the favors of the Crown? That question, sir, placed my claim
in abeyance ever since. The Minister, pledged solemnly to me, had to
rise in his place and say 'No.' Of course he added the stereotyped
sarcasm, 'Not that, if such a decision had been come to, need the
Cabinet have shrunk from the responsibility through any fears of the
honorable gentleman's indignation.'”
“Well, Mr. Morris will have to pay for his joke now,” said Hankes. “I 'm
told his whole estate is liable to the Bank.”
“Every shilling of it. Driscoll has got me all the details.”
“Lushington will be the great sufferer by the 'Tyrawley,'” continued
Hankes.
“Another of them, Hankes,--another of them,” cried Dunn, rubbing his
hands joyfully. “Tom Lushington--the Honorable Tom, as they called
him--blackballed me at 'Brookes's. They told me his very words: 'It's
bad enough to be “Dunned,” as we are, out of doors, but let us, at
least, be safe from the infliction at our Clubs.' A sorry jest, but
witty enough for those who heard it.”
“I don't think he has sixpence.”
“No, sir; nor can he remain a Treasury Lord with a fiat of bankruptcy
against him. So much, then, for Tom Lushington! I tell you, Hankes,”
said he, spiritedly, “next week will have its catalogue of shipwrecks.
There's a storm about to break that none have yet suspected.”
“There will be some heavy sufferers,” said Hankes gravely.
“No doubt, no doubt,” muttered Dunn. “I never heard of a battle without
killed and wounded. I tell you, sir, again,” said he, raising his voice,
“before the week ends the shore will be strewn with fragments; we alone
will ride through the gale unharmed. It is not fully a month since
I showed the Chief Secretary here--ay, and his Excellency, also--the
insolent but insidious system of attack the Government journals maintain
against me, the half-covert insinuations, the impertinent queries,
pretended inquiries for mere information's sake. Of course, I got for
answer the usual cant about 'freedom of the press,' 'liberty of public
discussion,' with the accustomed assurance that the Government had
not, in reality, any recognized organ; and, to wind up, there was the
laughing question, 'And what do you care, after all, for these fellows?'
But now I will show what I _do_ care,--that I have good and sufficient
reason to care,--that the calumnies which assail me are directed against
my material interests; that it is not Davenport Dunn is 'in cause,' but
all the great enterprises associated with his name; that it is not an
individual, but the industry of a nation, is at stake; and I will say to
them, 'Protect me, or--' You remember the significant legend inscribed
on the cannon of the Irish Volunteers, 'Independence or--' Take my word
for it, I may not speak as loudly as the nine-pounder, but my fire will
be to the full as fatal!”
Never before had Hankes seen his chief carried away by any sense of
personal injury; he had even remarked, amongst the traits of his great
business capacity, that a calm contempt for mere passing opinion was his
characteristic, and he was sorely grieved to find that such equanimity
could be disturbed. With his own especial quickness Dunn saw what was
passing in his lieutenant's mind, and he added hastily,--
“Not that, of all men, I need care for such assaults; powerful even
to tyranny as the press has become amongst us, there is one thing more
powerful still, and that is--Prosperity! Ay, sir, there may be cavil and
controversy as to your abilities; some may condemn your speech, or carp
at your book, they may cry down your statecraft, or deny your diplomacy;
but there is a test that all can appreciate, all comprehend, and that
is--Success. Have only _that_, Hankes, and the world is with you.”
“There's no denying that,” said Hankes, solemnly.
“It is the gauge of every man,” resumed Dunn,--“from him that presides
over a Railway Board to him that sways an Empire. And justly so, too,”
added he, rapidly. “A man must be a consummate judge of horseflesh that
could pick out the winner of the Oaks in a stable; but the scrubbiest
varlet on the field can _see_ who comes in first on the day of the race!
Have you ever been in America, Hankes?” asked he, suddenly.
“Yes; all over the States. I think I know Cousin Jonathan as well as I
know old John himself.”
“You know a very shrewd fellow, then,” muttered Dunn; “over-shrewd,
mayhap.”
“What led you to think of that country now?” asked the other, curiously.
“I scarcely know,” said Dunn, carelessly, as he walked the room in
thoughtfulness; then added, “If no recognition were to come of these
services of mine, I 'd just as soon live there as here. I should, at
least, be on the level of the best above me. Well,” cried he, in a
higher tone, “we have some trumps to play out ere it come to that.”
Once more they turned to the account books and the papers before them,
for Hankes had many things to explain and various difficulties to
unravel. The vast number of those enterprises in which Dunn engaged had
eventually blended and mingled all their interests together. Estates and
shipping, and banks, mines, railroads, and dock companies had so often
interchanged their securities, each bolstering up the credit of the
other in turn, that the whole resembled some immense fortress, where the
garrison, too weak for a general defence, was always hastening to some
one point or other,--the seat of immediate attack. And thus an Irish
draining-fund was one day called upon to liquidate the demands upon a
sub-Alpine railroad, while a Mexican tin-mine flew to the rescue of a
hosiery scheme in Balbriggan! To have ever a force ready on the point
assailed was Dunn's remarkable talent, and he handled his masses like a
great master of war.
Partly out of that indolent insolence which power begets, he had
latterly been less mindful of the press, less alive to the strictures of
journalism, and attacks were made upon him which, directed as they were
against his solvency, threatened at any moment to assume a dangerous
shape. Roused at last by the peril, he had determined on playing a bold
game for fortune; and this it was which now engaged his thoughts, and
whose details the dawning day saw him deeply considering. His now great
theory was that a recognized station amongst the nobles of the land was
the one only security against disaster. “Once amongst them,” said he,
“they will defend me as one of their order.” How to effect this grand
object had been the long study of his life. But it was more,--it
was also his secret! They who fancied they knew the man, thoroughly
understood the habits of his mind, his passions, his prejudices, and his
hopes, never as much as suspected what lay at the bottom of them all. He
assumed a sort of manner that in a measure disarmed their suspicion; he
affected pride in that middle station of life he occupied, and seemed to
glory in those glowing eulogies of commercial ability and capacity which
it was the good pleasure of leading journalists just then to deliver.
On public occasions he made an even ostentatious display of these
sentiments, and Davenport Dunn was often quoted as a dangerous man for
an hereditary aristocracy to have against them.
Such was he who now pored over complicated details of figures, intricate
and tangled schemes of finance; and yet, while his mind embraced them,
with other thoughts was he picturing to himself a time when, proud
amongst the proudest, he would take his place with the great nobles of
the land. It was evident that another had not regarded this ambition as
fanciful or extravagant. Lady Augusta--the haughty daughter of one
of the haughtiest in the peerage--as much as said, “It was a fair and
reasonable object of hope; then none could deny the claims he preferred,
nor any affect to undervalue the vast benefits he had conferred on his
country.” There was something so truly kind, so touching too, in the
generous tone she assumed, that Dunn dwelt upon it again and again.
Knowing all the secret instincts of that mysterious brotherhood as she
did, Dunn imagined to himself all the advantage her advice and counsels
could render him. “She can direct me in many ways, teaching me how to
treat these mysterious high-priests as I ought What shall I do to secure
her favor? How enlist it in my cause? Could I make her partner in the
enterprise?” As the thought flashed across him, his cheek burned as
if with a flame, and he rose abruptly from the table and walked to
the window, fearful lest his agitation might be observed. “That were
success, indeed!” muttered he. “What a strong bail-bond would it be when
I called two English peers my brothers-in-law, and an earl for my wife's
father! This would at once lead me to the very step of the 'Order.' How
many noble families would it interest in my elevation! The Ardens are
the best blood of the south, connected widely with the highest in both
countries. Is it possible that this could succeed?” He thought of the
old Earl and his intense pride of birth, and his heart misgave him; but
then, Lady Augusta's gentle tones and gentler looks came to his mind,
and he remembered that though a peer's daughter, she was penniless,
and--we shame to write it--not young. The Lady Augusta Arden marries the
millionnaire Mr. Dunn, and the world understands the compact There are
many such matches every season.
“What age would you guess me to be, Hankes?” said he, suddenly turning
round.
“I should call you--let me see--a matter of forty-five or forty-six,
sir.”
“Older, Hankes,--older,” said he, with a smile of half-pleasure.
“You don't look it, sir, I protest you don't. Sitting up all night and
working over these accounts, one might, perhaps, call you forty-six; but
seeing you as you come down to breakfast after your natural rest, you
don't seem forty.”
“This same life is too laborious; a man may follow it for the ten or
twelve years of his prime, but it becomes downright slavery after that.”
“But what is an active mind like yours to do, sir?” asked Hankes.
“Take his ease and rest himself.”
“Ease!--rest! All a mistake, sir. Great business men can't exist in that
lethargy called leisure.”
“You are quite wrong, Hankes; if I were the master of some venerable old
demesne, like this, for instance, with its timber of centuries' growth,
and its charms of scenery, such as we see around us here, I 'd ask no
better existence than to pass my days in calm retirement, invite a stray
friend or two to come and see me, and with books and other resources
hold myself aloof from stocks and statecraft, and not so much as ask how
are the Funds or who is the Minister.”
“I 'd be sorry to see you come to that, sir, I declare I should,” said
Hankes, earnestly.
“You may live to see it, notwithstanding,” said Dunn, with a placid
smile.
“Ah, sir,” said Hankes, “it's not the man who has just conceived such
a grand idea as this “--and he touched the books before him--“ought to
talk about turning hermit.”
“We'll see, Hankes,--we'll see,” said Dunn, calmly. “There come the
post-horses--I suppose for you.”
“Yes, sir; I ordered them to be here at six. I thought I should have had
a couple of hours in bed by that time; but it does n't signify, I can
sleep anywhere.”
“Let me see,” said Dunn, calculating. “This is Tuesday; now, Friday
ought to be the day, the news to reach me on Thursday afternoon; you can
send a telegraphic message and then send on a clerk. Of course, you will
know how to make these communications properly. It is better I should
remain here in the interval; it looks like security.”
“Do you mean to come over yourself, sir?”
“Of course I do. You must meet me there on Friday morning. Let Mrs.
Hailes have the house in readiness in case I might invite any one.”
“All shall be attended to ir,” said Hankes. “I think I'll despatch
Wilkins to you with the news; he's an awful fellow to exaggerate evil
tidings.”
“Very well,” said Dunn. “Good-night, or, I opine, rather, good-morning.”
And he turned away into his bedroom.