Lizzie
It cannot be supposed that Ferdinand Lopez at this time was a very
happy man. He had, at any rate, once loved his wife, and would have
loved her still could he have trained her to think as he thought,
to share his wishes, and "to put herself into the same boat with
him,"--as he was wont to describe the unison and sympathy which he
required from her. To give him his due, he did not know that he was
a villain. When he was exhorting her to "get round her father" he
was not aware that he was giving her lessons which must shock a
well-conditioned girl. He did not understand that everything that she
had discovered of his moral disposition since her marriage was of a
nature to disgust her. And, not understanding all this, he conceived
that he was grievously wronged by her in that she adhered to her
father rather than to him. This made him unhappy, and doubly
disappointed him. He had neither got the wife that he had expected
nor the fortune. But he still thought that the fortune must come if
he would only hold on to the wife which he had got.
And then everything had gone badly with him since his marriage. He
was apt, when thinking over his affairs, to attribute all this to the
fears and hesitation and parsimony of Sexty Parker. None of his late
ventures with Sexty Parker had been successful. And now Sexty was in
a bad condition, very violent, drinking hard, declaring himself to
be a ruined man, and swearing that if this and that were not done
he would have bitter revenge. Sexty still believed in the wealth of
his partner's father-in-law, and still had some hope of salvation
from that source. Lopez would declare to him, and up to this very
time persevered in protesting, that salvation was to be found in
Bios. If Sexty would only risk two or three thousand pounds more
upon Bios,--or his credit to that amount, failing the immediate
money,--things might still be right. "Bios be d----," said Sexty,
uttering a string of heavy imprecations. On that morning he had been
trusting to native produce rather than to the new African spirit. But
now as the Guatemala scheme really took form and loomed on Lopez's
eyesight as a thing that might be real, he endeavoured to keep out of
Sexty's way. But in vain; Sexty too had heard of Guatemala, and in
his misery hunted Lopez about the city. "By G----, I believe you're
afraid to come to Little Tankard Yard," he said one day, having
caught his victim under the equestrian statue in front of the
Exchange.
"What is the good of my coming when you will do nothing when I am
there?"
"I'll tell you what it is, Lopez,--you're not going out of the
country about this mining business, if I know it."
"Who said I was?"
"I'll put a spoke in your wheel there, my man. I'll give a written
account of all the dealings between us to the Directors. By G----,
they shall know their man."
"You're an ass, Sexty, and always were. Look here. If I can carry
on as though I were going to this place, I can draw £5000 from
old Wharton. He has already offered it. He has treated me with a
stinginess that I never knew equalled. Had he done what I had a right
to expect, you and I would have been rich men now. But at last I have
got a hold upon him up to £5000. As you and I stand, pretty nearly
the whole of that will go to you. But don't you spoil it all by
making an ass of yourself."
Sexty, who was three parts drunk, looked up into his face for a few
seconds, and then made his reply. "I'm d----d if I believe a word of
it." Upon this Lopez affected to laugh, and then made his escape.
All this, as I have said, did not tend to make his life happy. Though
he had impudence enough, and callousness of conscience enough, to get
his bills paid by Mr. Wharton as often as he could, he was not quite
easy in his mind while doing so. His ambition had never been high,
but it had soared higher than that. He had had great hopes. He had
lived with some high people. He had dined with lords and ladies.
He had been the guest of a Duchess. He had married the daughter of
a gentleman. He had nearly been a member of Parliament. He still
belonged to what he considered to be a first-rate club. From a great
altitude he looked down upon Sexty Parker and men of Sexty's class,
because of his social successes, and because he knew how to talk and
to look like a gentleman. It was unpleasant to him, therefore, to be
driven to the life he was now living. And the idea of going out to
Guatemala and burying himself in a mine in Central America was not to
him a happy idea. In spite of all that he had done he had still some
hope that he might avoid that banishment. He had spoken the truth
to Sexty Parker in saying that he intended to get the £5000 from
Mr. Wharton without that terrible personal sacrifice, though he had
hardly spoken the truth when he assured his friend that the greater
portion of that money would go to him. There were many schemes
fluctuating through his brain, and all accompanied by many doubts.
If he could get Mr. Wharton's money by giving up his wife, should he
consent to give her up? In either case should he stay or should he
go? Should he run one further great chance with Bios,--and if so, by
whose assistance? And if he should at last decide that he would do so
by the aid of a certain friend that was yet left to him, should he
throw himself at that friend's feet, the friend being a lady, and
propose to desert his wife and begin the world again with her? For
the lady in question was a lady in possession, as he believed, of
very large means. Or should he cut his throat and have done at once
with all his troubles, acknowledging to himself that his career
had been a failure, and that, therefore, it might be brought with
advantage to an end? "After all," said he to himself, "that may be
the best way of winding up a bankrupt concern."
Our old friend Lady Eustace, in these days, lived in a very small
house in a very small street bordering upon May Fair; but the street,
though very small, and having disagreeable relations with a mews,
still had an air of fashion about it. And with her lived the widow,
Mrs. Leslie, who had introduced her to Mrs. Dick Roby, and through
Mrs. Roby to Ferdinand Lopez. Lady Eustace was in the enjoyment of a
handsome income, as I hope that some of my readers may remember,--and
this income, during the last year or two, she had learned to foster,
if not with much discretion, at any rate with great zeal. During
her short life she had had many aspirations. Love, poetry, sport,
religion, fashion, Bohemianism had all been tried; but in each crisis
there had been a certain care for wealth which had saved her from the
folly of squandering what she had won by her early energies in the
pursuit of her then prevailing passion. She had given her money to no
lover, had not lost it on race-courses, or in building churches;--nor
even had she materially damaged her resources by servants and
equipages. At the present time she was still young, and still
pretty,--though her hair and complexion took rather more time than
in the days when she won Sir Florian Eustace. She still liked a
lover,--or perhaps two,--though she had thoroughly convinced herself
that a lover may be bought too dear. She could still ride a horse,
though hunting regularly was too expensive for her. She could
talk religion if she could find herself close to a well-got-up
clergyman,--being quite indifferent as to the denomination of the
religion. But perhaps a wild dash for a time into fast vulgarity was
what in her heart of hearts she liked best,--only that it was so
difficult to enjoy that pleasure without risk of losing everything.
And then, together with these passions, and perhaps above them all,
there had lately sprung up in the heart of Lady Eustace a desire to
multiply her means by successful speculation. This was the friend
with whom Lopez had lately become intimate, and by whose aid he hoped
to extricate himself from some of his difficulties.
Poor as he was he had contrived to bribe Mrs. Leslie by handsome
presents out of Bond Street;--for, as he still lived in Manchester
Square, and was the undoubted son-in-law of Mr. Wharton, his credit
was not altogether gone. In the giving of these gifts no purport was,
of course, named, but Mrs. Leslie was probably aware that her good
word with her friend was expected. "I only know what I used to hear
from Mrs. Roby," Mrs. Leslie said to her friend. "He was mixed up
with Hunkey's people, who roll in money; Old Wharton wouldn't have
given him his daughter if he had not been doing well."
"It's very hard to be sure," said Lizzie Eustace.
"He looks like a man who'd know how to feather his own nest," said
Mrs. Leslie. "Don't you think he's very handsome?"
"I don't know that he's likely to do the better for that."
"Well; no; but there are men of whom you are sure, when you look at
them, that they'll be successful. I don't suppose he was anything to
begin with, but see where he is now!"
"I believe you are in love with him, my dear," said Lizzie Eustace.
"Not exactly. I don't know that he has given me any provocation. But
I don't see why a woman shouldn't be in love with him if she likes.
He is a deal nicer than those fair-haired men who haven't got a
word to say to you, and yet look as though you ought to jump down
their mouths;--like that fellow you were trying to talk to last
night;--that Mr. Fletcher. He could just jerk out three words at a
time, and yet he was proud as Lucifer. I like a man who if he likes
me is neither ashamed nor afraid to say so."
"There is a romance there, you know. Mr. Fletcher was in love with
Emily Wharton, and she threw him over for Lopez. They say he has not
held up his head since."
"She was quite right," said Mrs. Leslie. "But she is one of those
stiff-necked creatures who are set up with pride though they have
nothing to be proud of. I suppose she had a lot of money. Lopez would
never have taken her without."
When, therefore, Lopez called one day at the little house in the
little street he was not an unwelcome visitor. Mrs. Leslie was in
the drawing-room, but soon left it after his arrival. He had of late
been often there, and when he at once introduced the subject on which
he was himself intent it was not unexpected. "Seven thousand five
hundred pounds!" said Lizzie, after listening to the proposition
which he had come to make. "That is a very large sum of money!"
"Yes;--it's a large sum of money. It's a large affair. I'm in it to
rather more than that, I believe."
"How are you to get people to drink it?" she asked after a pause.
"By telling them that they ought to drink it. Advertise it. It has
become a certainty now that if you will only advertise sufficiently
you may make a fortune by selling anything. Only the interest on
the money expended increases in so large a ratio in accordance with
the magnitude of the operation! If you spend a few hundreds in
advertising you throw them away. A hundred thousand pounds well laid
out makes a certainty of anything."
"What am I to get to show for my money;--I mean immediately, you
know?"
"Registered shares in the Company."
"The Bios Company?"
"No;--we did propose to call ourselves Parker and Co., limited. I
think we shall change the name. They will probably use my name. Lopez
and Co., limited."
"But it's all for Bios?"
"Oh yes;--all for Bios."
"And it's to come from Central Africa?"
"It will be rectified in London, you know. Some English spirit will
perhaps be mixed. But I must not tell you the secrets of the trade
till you join us. That Bios is distilled from the bark of the
Duffer-tree is a certainty."
"Have you drank any?"
"I've tasted it."
"Is it nice?"
"Very nice;--rather sweet, you know, and will be the better for
mixing."
"Gin?" suggested her ladyship.
"Perhaps so,--or whisky. I think I may say that you can't do very
much better with your money. You know I would not say this to you
were it not true. In such a matter I treat you just as if,--as if you
were my sister."
"I know how good you are,--but seven thousand five hundred! I
couldn't raise so much as that just at present."
"There are to be six shares," said Lopez, "making £45,000 capital.
Would you consent to take a share jointly with me? That would be
three thousand seven hundred and fifty."
"But you have a share already," said Lizzie suspiciously.
"I should then divide that with Mr. Parker. We intend to register at
any rate as many as nine partners. Would you object to hold it with
me?" Lopez, as he asked the question, looked at her as though he were
offering her half his heart.
"No," said Lizzie, slowly, "I don't suppose I should object to that."
"I should be doubly eager about the affair if I were in partnership
with you."
"It's such a venture."
"Nothing venture nothing have."
"But I've got something as it is, Mr. Lopez, and I don't want to lose
it all."
"There's no chance of that if you join us."
"You think Bios is so sure!"
"Quite safe," said Lopez.
"You must give me a little more time to think about it," said Lady
Eustace at last, panting with anxiety, struggling with herself,
anxious for the excitement which would come to her from dealing in
Bios, but still fearing to risk her money.
This had taken place immediately after Mr. Wharton's offer of the
£5000, in making which he had stipulated that Emily should be left at
home. Then a few days went by, and Lopez was pressed for his money at
the office of the San Juan mine. Did he or did he not mean to take up
the mining shares allotted to him? If he did mean to do so, he must
do it at once. He swore by all his gods that of course he meant to
take them up. Had not Mr. Wharton himself been at the office saying
that he intended to pay for them? Was not that sufficient guarantee?
They knew well enough that Mr. Wharton was a man to whom the raising
of £5000 could be a matter of no difficulty. But they did not know,
never could know, how impossible it was to get anything done by Mr.
Wharton. But Mr. Wharton had promised to pay for the shares, and when
money was concerned his word would surely suffice. Mr. Hartlepod,
backed by two of the Directors, said that if the thing was to go on
at all, the money must really be paid at once. But the conference was
ended by allowing the new local manager another fortnight in which to
complete the arrangement.
Lopez allowed four days to pass by, during each of which he was
closeted for a time with Lady Eustace, and then made an attempt to
get at Mr. Wharton through his wife. "Your father has said that he
will pay the money for me," said Lopez.
"If he has said so he certainly will do it."
"But he has promised it on the condition that you should remain
at home. Do you wish to desert your husband?" To this she made no
immediate answer. "Are you already anxious to be rid of me?"
"I should prefer to remain at home," she said in a very low voice.
"Then you do wish to desert your husband?"
"What is the use of all this, Ferdinand? You do not love me. You did
not marry me because I loved you."
"By heaven I did;--for that and that only."
"And how have you treated me?"
"What have I done to you?"
"But I do not mean to make accusations, Ferdinand. I should only add
to our miseries by that. We should be happier apart."
"Not I. Nor is that my idea of marriage. Tell your father that you
wish to go with me, and then he will let us have the money."
"I will tell him no lie, Ferdinand. If you bid me go, I will go.
Where you find a home I must find one too if it be your pleasure to
take me. But I will not ask my father to give you money because it is
my pleasure to go. Were I to say so he would not believe me."
"It is you who have told him to give it me only on the condition of
your staying."
"I have told him nothing. He knows that I do not wish to go. He
cannot but know that. But he knows that I mean to go if you require
it."
"And you will do nothing for me?"
"Nothing,--in regard to my father." He raised his fist with the
thought of striking her, and she saw the motion. But his arm fell
again to his side. He had not quite come to that yet. "Surely you
will have the charity to tell me whether I am to go, if it be fixed,"
she said.
"Have I not told you so twenty times?"
"Then it is fixed."
"Yes;--it is fixed. Your father will tell you about your things.
He has promised you some beggarly sum,--about as much as a
tallow-chandler would give his daughter."
"Whatever he does for me will be sufficient for me. I am not afraid
of my father, Ferdinand."
"You shall be afraid of me before I have done with you," said he,
leaving the room.
Then as he sat at his club, dining there alone, there came across
his mind ideas of what the world would be like to him if he could
leave his wife at home and take Lizzie Eustace with him to Guatemala.
Guatemala was very distant, and it would matter little there whether
the woman he brought with him was his wife or no. It was clear enough
to him that his wife desired no more of his company. What were the
conventions of the world to him? This other woman had money at her
own command. He could not make it his own because he could not marry
her, but he fancied that it might be possible to bring her so far
under his control as to make the money almost as good as his own.
Mr. Wharton's money was very hard to reach, and would be as hard to
reach,--perhaps harder,--when Mr. Wharton was dead, as now, during
his life. He had said a good deal to the lady since the interview of
which a report has been given. She had declared herself to be afraid
of Bios. She did not in the least doubt that great things might be
ultimately done with Bios, but she did not quite see the way with her
small capital,--thus humbly did she speak of her wealth,--to be one
of those who should take the initiative in the matter. Bios evidently
required a great deal of advertisement, and Lizzie Eustace had a
short-sighted objection to expend what money she had saved on the
hoardings of London. Then he opened to her the glories of Guatemala,
not contenting himself with describing the certainty of the 20 per
cent., but enlarging on the luxurious happiness of life in a country
so golden, so green, so gorgeous, and so grand. It had been the
very apple of the eye of the old Spaniards. In Guatemala, he said,
Cortez and Pizarro had met and embraced. They might have done so for
anything Lizzie Eustace knew to the contrary. And here our hero took
advantage of his name. Don Diego di Lopez had been the first to raise
the banner of freedom in Guatemala when the kings of Spain became
tyrants to their American subjects. All is fair in love and war, and
Lizzie amidst the hard business of her life still loved a dash of
romance. Yes, he was about to change the scene and try his fortune in
that golden, green, and gorgeous country. "You will take your wife of
course," Lady Eustace had said. Then Lopez had smiled, and shrugging
his shoulders had left the room.
It was certainly the fact that she could not eat him. Other men
before Lopez have had to pick up what courage they could in their
attacks upon women by remembering that fact. She had flirted with him
in a very pleasant way, mixing up her prettiness and her percentages
in a manner that was peculiar to herself. He did not know her, and he
knew that he did not know her;--but still there was the chance. She
had thrown his wife more than once in his face, after the fashion of
women when they are wooed by married men since the days of Cleopatra
downwards. But he had taken that simply as encouragement. He had
already let her know that his wife was a vixen who troubled his life.
Lizzie had given him her sympathy, and had almost given him a tear.
"But I am not a man to be broken-hearted because I have made a
mistake," said Lopez. "Marriage vows are very well, but they shall
never bind me to misery." "Marriage vows are not very well. They may
be very ill," Lizzie had replied, remembering certain passages in her
own life.
There was no doubt about her money, and certainly she could not eat
him. The fortnight allowed him by the San Juan Company had nearly
gone by when he called at the little house in the little street,
resolved to push his fortune in that direction without fear and
without hesitation. Mrs. Leslie again took her departure, leaving
them together, and Lizzie allowed her friend to go, although the last
words that Lopez had spoken had been, as he thought, a fair prelude
to the words he intended to speak to-day. "And what do you think of
it?" he said, taking both her hands in his.
"Think of what?"
"Of our Spanish venture."
"Have you given up Bios, my friend?"
"No; certainly not," said Lopez, seating himself beside her. "I have
not taken the other half share, but I have kept my old venture in the
scheme. I believe in Bios, you know."
"Ah;--it is so nice to believe."
"But I believe more firmly in the country to which I am going."
"You are going then?"
"Yes, my friend;--I am going. The allurements are too strong to
be resisted. Think of that climate and of this." He probably had
not heard of the mosquitoes of Central America when he so spoke.
"Remember that an income which gives you comfort here will there
produce for you every luxury which wealth can purchase. It is to be
a king there, or to be but very common among commoners here."
"And yet England is a dear old country."
"Have you found it so? Think of the wrongs which you have
endured;--of the injuries which you have suffered."
"Yes, indeed." For Lizzie Eustace had gone through hard days in her
time.
"I certainly will fly from such a country to those golden shores on
which man may be free and unshackled."
"And your wife?"
"Oh, Lizzie!" It was the first time that he had called her Lizzie,
and she was apparently neither shocked nor abashed. Perhaps he
thought too much of this, not knowing how many men had called her
Lizzie in her time. "Do not you at least understand that a man or a
woman may undergo that tie, and yet be justified in disregarding it
altogether?"
"Oh, yes;--if there has been bigamy, or divorce, or anything of that
kind." Now Lizzie had convicted her second husband of bigamy, and had
freed herself after that fashion.
"To h---- with their prurient laws," said Lopez, rising suddenly from
his chair. "I will neither appeal to them nor will I obey them. And
I expect from you as little subservience as I myself am prepared to
pay. Lizzie Eustace, will you go with me, to that land of the sun,
_Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,
Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime?_
Will you dare to escape with me from the cold conventionalities, from
the miserable thraldom of this country bound in swaddling cloths?
Lizzie Eustace, if you will say the word, I will take you to that
land of glorious happiness."
But Lizzie Eustace had £4000 a year and a balance at her banker's.
"Mr. Lopez," she said.
"What answer have you to make me?"
"Mr. Lopez, I think you must be a fool."
He did at last succeed in getting himself into the street, and at any
rate she had not eaten him.