A SPECULATION.
"When the cat is away, the mice begin to play." It is an old and a true
saying, and Michael, had he been an experienced mouser, would have
remembered it to his advantage, when he thought of leaving the
banking-house to the tender mercies of his colleagues. His confidence in
Planner was very great, and I will not say undeserved; still some
account should have been taken of his previous habits, and the positive
abiding infirmity of human nature. It was surely dangerous to surround a
man so fickle, and so easily led by the delusions of his sanguine
spirit, with every temptation to walk astray, and to remove every check
that had hitherto kept down the capricious movements of his most
unsteady will. The daily, almost hourly presence of Allcraft, his
vigorous and immediate superintendence of affairs, had subdued the
speculative soul of Planner, and rendered him a useful man of business.
He was, in truth, a good accountant, ardent in his pursuits, a faithful
friend, an honest man. With the needful restraints upon him, he proved,
as Allcraft had believed he would, a warm and active partisan. Had those
restraints been continued for any time--had he been trained, and so
reconciled and accustomed to his yoke, all might have prospered and been
well with him. His own happiness might have been secured, and the hopes
of his friend and patron would not have been blasted. It was the
misfortune of Allcraft, with all his long-sightedness, not to see far
enough. He was to blame, deeply to blame, for the desertion of a man
whom he knew to be at the mercy of his own wayward spirit, and utterly
incapable of self-defence. Yet, called abroad, what could he do? It is
the fate of cunning, as it is of suspicion and other mortal weaknesses,
to fall into toils of its own weaving. Michael too soon was called to
pay the penalty. Allcraft had been in France a fortnight, when Planner
received a fatal visit at the bank from a very old friend and stanch
ally--a creature as excitable and sanguine as himself, as full of
projects, and as unsuccessful. They had known each other in the early
and distant days of their prosperity--they had grown poor together--they
were united by the uniformity of their fortunes as by the similarity of
their natures. They had both for years regarded themselves as the
persecuted and injured of society--and both were satisfied of their
ability to achieve miracles, time and the occasion serving. It is not
for speculative spirits to be disheartened by failure, but rather to be
encouraged by ill success to fresh extravagance, else had the poor
result of all their schemes long since extinguished the fire at work
within them. Not one of their innumerable plans had shown a gleam, a
spark, of reality and life. One morning, about five years before the
present visit, Mr William Wedge rose from bed with the pleasing notion
that he would ruin all the public gaming-houses in the world. He had
suddenly discovered the secret of their success--the cause of their
enormous gains--and had arranged, with minutest care and skill, a
systematic course of play to bring against them. It was with difficulty
that he contained himself until he mentioned his good fortune to his
friend. They met time after time in secret, grew fearfully
mysterious--closed their windows in the open day--played cards from
morning till night, and sometimes through the night--with no other eye
upon them than the very feeble, faint-glimmering one of their farthing
rushlight;--they carried directions in their pocket--learnt them
off--repeated them until they grew familiar as their oaths, and more
familiar than their prayers. To realize between them a standing capital
of five pounds, a sum essential to their operations, they pawned all the
available clothing they possessed; and on the very night that they
obtained the cash, they sallied forth to carry devastation and affright
throughout the camps of innocent and unsuspecting blacklegs. As might be
expected, it took about as many minutes as they had pounds to effect the
ruin of the adventurers. Did they despond? Not they; a flaw existed in
their calculations. They looked for it with care, and were torn from
their employment only by the exigencies of the time, and the pressing
demands of nature for immediate bread. Mr Wedge had from this period
struggled on, living as he knew how, and nobody could tell, until
Planner's unexpected good fortune and ascent provided him with an
allowance and a quiet mind to follow out his views. Since Planner's
introduction into the bank, he had behaved faithfully and well to his
ancient crony; in addition to a pension, paid weekly and in advance, he
gave him a right of entree to his rooms after the hours of business, a
certain supper three times a-week, and an uncertain quantity of brandy
and water on the same occasions. One stipulation only he deemed
necessary for his protection. He had given his word to Allcraft to avoid
all trading unconnected with the bank--to abstain from speculation. Weak
at the best of times, he knew himself to be literally helpless with the
_ignis fatuus_ of a hopeful project before his eyes; and he made a
condition of Wedge's visits--his silence upon matters of business,
private or public. It was a wise resolution, nobly formed, and for a
season well carried out. Wedge promised to be cautious, and did not
break his word. Peace of mind, a regular diet, and a full stomach, were
such extraordinary circumstances in the daily doings of the latter, that
the restraint upon his tongue was, in the first month or two of the new
excitement, scarcely felt as an inconvenience. Planner himself, with the
eye of Allcraft upon him, kept his natural inclination safely in the
rear of _his_ promise, and so the days and nights passed pleasantly. On
the evening above alluded to--that is to say, just a fortnight after
Michael's departure--Wedge came as usual for his supper, grog, and
conversation. The clock had just struck eleven--the friends were sitting
together, their feet upon the fender, their hands upon their tumblers.
As was usual with them, they discussed the doings of the nation, and
called in question the proceedings of the existing government. One
subject after another was dismissed--politics, law, love, and
religion--they abused every thing, and agreed marvellously. It was
getting very near midnight, the hour at which, it is said, devils are
let loose upon earth for mischief--when a rascally little imp crawled up
to Planner's ear, and put it into his head to talk about the amusements
of the poor, and their effects upon the rising generation.
"They will be sorry for it, Wedge--mark my words. All this stabbing and
killing comes from too much work and no play. Jack's at his tools for
ever--gets a dull boy--and then stabs and cuts about him for the sake of
getting lively. Government should have playgrounds in every parish. They
would save the expense in the rapid diminution of the standing army. I
wrote a letter once to the prime minister"----
Wedge sighed.
"What do you mean by that, Wedge? Ah, quite right--I see! You are a good
fellow, Wedge. You have kept the compact. I won't be the first to break
it. Let us change the subject. I burnt all my letters and papers the day
I got here. What was the good of keeping them? This is an ungrateful
country, Wedge!"
Wedge sipped his grog, and sighed again.
"What is the matter, boy?" enquired his patron. "Speak your
mind--relieve your heart."
"No, I won't, Planner--I won't be the first. You sha'n't say it is me. I
don't mean to be blamed, that's a fact--but if I dared, oh, that's all!"
"Is it any thing very good?"
"Good! Good, did you say? Well, an agreement's an agreement, Planner. It
isn't for me to introduce the subject; but I could tell you something,
if we were differently situated, that would be a fortune to you. Ah,
Planner, I sha'n't be a burden upon you long! I have hit upon a thing at
last--I am a made man!"
"Now I tell you what, Wedge," said Planner, pulling out his watch, and
looking very serious, "we'll have just five minutes' private
conversation on this matter, and then have done with it. Only five
minutes, mind you, by the watch. If we mutually agree to lay aside our
compact for a minute or so, there's no great harm done, provided it
isn't made a precedent. I should like to see you set a-going, Wedge. You
may open your mind to me, and be sure of good advice. It's now seven
minutes to twelve. Till twelve, Wedge, you are at liberty to talk on
business."
"What were you saying just now about amusements, Planner? Do you
recollect."
"I do."
"I have thought about it for the last six months. We have formed a
company."
"A company!"
Wedge was as full of mystery as an Oxford tractman. He rose on tiptoe
from his chair, proceeded to the passage, listened on the stairs,
returned as carefully, closed the door, resumed his seat.
"A company!" repeated Planner.
"Such an undertaking!" proceeded the ungagged and self-deluded Wedge.
"It's the finest thing that has been thought of for these hundred years.
I _am_ surprised it never once occurred to you. Your mind, Planner,
should have grasped it."
"What can it be?"
"We mean to call it the _Pantamorphica_, because it takes all shapes. We
are in treaty now for a hundred acres of land within three miles of
London. We are to have a race-course--public gardens with fountains and
promenades--a gymnasium for callisthenic and other exercises--boating--a
menagerie--a library--lecture-rooms--conservatories"----
"By Jove, I see!" ejaculated Planner. "Capital!--a universal playground;
trust me, I have thought of it before. Go on."
"These are for the daylight. At night we have a concert-room--a
theatre--saloons for dancing--halls for refreshment--museums for
_converzatione_. In the centre of the public walks we have a synagogue,
a church, and chapel for Sabbath visitors. Then we shall have
aviaries--apiaries--caves--alpine scenery"----
"Upon my soul, Wedge, it's a grand conception!" There was a large clock
at the bottom of the stairs which struck twelve, loud enough to awake
the sleeping household; but, strange to say, neither Planner nor his
friend heard a single chime. "Who are your men?" continued Planner.
"Oh, first-rate men! Three of the first London bankers, two of the chief
architects, the richest capitalist in England"----
"What, have you got them all?"
"No, but we mean to ask them to take shares, and to take part in the
direction. They'll jump, sir, at the offer."
"Ah, that they will! What's your capital?"
"Half a million--five thousand shares of a hundred each. It's nothing at
all!"
"No, nothing really. What is your appointment?"
"I am secretary; and I am to have a bonus of five thousand pounds when
the thing is fairly started."
"You well deserve it, Wedge. Ah, sir, I have dreamt of this before!"
"No--have you?"
"It must do, Wedge. It can't help itself. People will be amused--people
will pay for it. Amuse them from morning till night--change the scene
every hour of the day--vary the pleasures. Wedge, you are a national
benefactor."
"It is past twelve," said Wedge hesitatingly, looking at the watch.
"No--is it?" asked Planner, looking at it likewise. "There must be some
mistake. Have you heard the clock strike?"
"No."
"Nor I; my watch is out of order--too fast a great deal. Let us go by
the big clock. Now, when that strikes twelve, Wedge, you shall go home,
and I'll to bed--an understanding is an understanding, Wedge."
"And so you like it, Planner--eh?"
"Like it, sir"----
It was exactly a quarter to four o'clock when Planner put out his
bedroom candle, and Wedge tucked himself up as well as he could on the
hard horsehair sofa in Planner's sitting-room. Having enlarged upon the
_Pantamorphica_ speculation until the above unreasonable hour, it was
not deemed respectable for Mr Wedge to quit the banking-house on the
dark side of sunrise. The latter gentleman had worked himself up to such
a pitch of excitement in blowing out his bubble, that it was very nearly
six o'clock before he could be pronounced in a condition to say his
prayers like a rational being, and go to sleep. As for Planner, he had
heard too much to be quiet. He tossed his head on his pillow--turned
from side to side--sat up and lay down again at intervals, until the
break of day. He had resolved to take an active interest in this
glorious undertaking. Nothing should hinder him. Its returns must
necessarily be immense. He had promised Allcraft to enter into no
business foreign to the banking-house. But what of that? He should be
without an excuse for his blindness if he closed his eyes to the
advantages which stared him in the face. He would not be selfish.
Allcraft should share in the reward. He, who had acted so friendly a
part to him, should be repaid for his noble conduct. "Share and share
alike," should be his motto. And he would not hesitate or postpone his
intentions. He would look thoroughly into the affair at once, and go
boldly forward. It should be his pleasure and his pride to greet and
surprise his partner with the unexpected news the instant he returned.
Sweet are the visions of life, sleeping or waking. It is the substance
and the truth that pass like iron to the soul, and kill it. Poor
Planner!