A CORNER IN DIAMONDS.
John Girdlestone propounded his intention with such dignity and emphasis
that he evidently expected the announcement to come as a surprise upon
his son. If so, he was not disappointed, for the young man stared
open-eyed.
"A corner in diamonds!" he repeated. "How will you do that?"
"You know what a corner is," his father explained. "If you buy up all
the cotton, say, or sugar in the market, so as to have the whole of it
in your own hands, and to be able to put your own price on it in selling
it again--that is called making a corner in sugar or cotton. I intend
to make a corner in diamonds."
"Of course, I know what a corner is," Ezra said impatiently. "But how
on earth are you going to buy all the diamonds in? You would want the
capital of a Rothschild?"
"Not so much as you think, my boy, for there are not any great amount of
diamonds in the market at any one time. The yield of the South African
fields regulates the price. I have had this idea in my head for some
time, and have studied the details. Of course, I should not attempt to
buy in all the diamonds that are in the market. A small portion of them
would yield profit enough to float the firm off again."
"But if you have only a part of the supply in your hands, how are you to
regulate the market value? You must come down to the prices at which
other holders are selling."
"Ha! Ha! Very good! very good!" the old merchant said, shaking his head
good-humouredly. "But you don't quite see my plan yet. You have not
altogether grasped it. Allow me to explain it to you."
His son lay back upon the sofa with a look of resignation upon his face.
Girdlestone continued to stand upon the hearth-rug and spoke very slowly
and deliberately, as though giving vent to thoughts which had been long
and carefully considered.
"You see, Ezra," he said, "diamonds, being a commodity of great value,
of which there is never very much in the market at one time, are
extremely sensitive to all sorts of influences. The value of them
varies greatly from time to time. A very little thing serves to
depreciate their price, and an equally small thing will send it up
again."
Ezra Girdlestone grunted to show that he followed his father's remarks.
"I did some business in diamonds myself when I was a younger man, and so
I had an opportunity of observing their fluctuations in the market.
Now, there is one thing which invariably depreciates the price of
diamonds. That is the rumour of fresh discoveries of mines in other
parts of the world. The instant such a thing gets wind the value of the
stones goes down wonderfully. The discovery of diamonds in Central
India not long ago had that effect very markedly, and they have never
recovered their value since. Do you follow me?"
An expression of interest had come over Ezra's face, and he nodded to
show that he was listening.
"Now, supposing," continued the senior partner, with a smile on his thin
lips, "that such a report got about. Suppose, too, that we were at this
time, when the market was in a depressed condition, to invest a
considerable capital in them. If these rumours of an alleged discovery
turned out to be entirely unfounded, of course the value of the stones
which we held would go up once more, and we might very well sell out for
double or treble the sum that we invested. Don't you see the sequence
of events?"
"There seems to me to be rather too much of the 'suppose' in it,"
remarked Ezra. "How do we know that such rumours will get about; and if
they do, how do we know that they will prove to be unfounded?"
"How are we to know?" the merchant cried, wriggling his long lank body
with amusement. "Why, my lad, if we spread the rumours ourselves we
shall have pretty good reason to believe that they are unfounded.
Eh, Ezra? Ha! ha! You see there are some brains in the old man yet."
Ezra looked at his father in considerable surprise and some admiration.
"Why, damn it!" he exclaimed, "it's dishonest. I'm not sure that it's
not actionable."
"Dishonest! Pooh!" The merchant snapped his fingers. "It's finesse, my
boy, commercial finesse. Who's to trace it, I should like to know.
I haven't worked out all the details--I want your co-operation over
that--but here's a rough sketch of my plan. We send a man we can depend
upon to some distant part of the world--Chimborazo, for example, or the
Ural Mountains. It doesn't matter where, as long as it is out of the
way. On arriving at this place our agent starts a report that he has
discovered a diamond mine. We should even go the length, if he
considers it necessary, of hiding a few rough stones in the earth, which
he can dig up to give colour to his story. Of course the local press
would be full of this. He might present one of the diamonds to the
editor of the nearest paper. In course of time a pretty coloured
description of the new diamond fields would find its way to London and
thence to the Cape. I'll answer for it that the immediate effect is a
great drop in the price of stones. We should have a second agent at the
Cape diamond fields, and he would lay our money out by buying in all
that he could while the panic lasted. Then, the original scare having
proved to be all a mistake, the prices naturally go up once more, and we
get a long figure for all that we hold. That's what I mean by making 'a
corner in diamonds.' There is no room in it for any miscalculation. It
is as certain as a proposition of Euclid, and as easily worked out."
"It sounds very nice," his son remarked thoughtfully. "I'm not so sure
about its working, though."
"It must work well. As far as human calculation can go there is no
possibility of failure. Besides, my boy, never lose sight of the fact
that we shall be speculating with other people's money. We ourselves
have nothing to lose, absolutely nothing."
"I am not likely to lose sight of it," said Ezra angrily, his mind
coming back to his grievance.
"I reckon that we can raise from forty to fifty thousand pounds without
much difficulty. My name is, as you know, as good as that of any firm
in the City. For nearly forty years it has been above stain or
suspicion. If we carry on our plans at once, and lay this money out
judiciously, all may come right."
"It's Hobson's choice," the young man remarked. "We must try some bold
stroke of the sort. Have you chosen the right sort of men for agents?
You should have men of some standing to set such reports going.
They would have more weight then."
John Girdlestone shook his head despondingly. "How am I to get a man of
any standing to do such a piece of business?" he said.
"Nothing easier," answered Ezra, with a cynical laugh. "I could pick
out a score of impecunious fellows from the clubs who would be only too
glad to earn a hundred or two in any way you can mention. All their
talk about honour and so forth is very pretty and edifying, but it's not
meant for every day use. Of course we should have to pay him."
"Them, you mean?"
"No, we should only want one man."
"How about our purchaser at the diamond fields?"
"You don't mean to say," Ezra said roughly, "that you would be so absurd
as to trust any man with our money. Why, I wouldn't let the Archbishop
of Canterbury out of my sight with forty thousand pounds of mine. No, I
shall go myself to the diamond fields--that is, if I can trust you here
alone."
"That is unkind, Ezra," said his father. "Your idea is an excellent
one. I should have proposed it myself but for the discomforts and
hardships of such a journey."
"There's no use doing things by halves," the young man remarked. "As to
our other agent, I have the very man--Major Tobias Clutterbuck. He is a
shrewd, clever fellow, and he's always hard up. Last week he wanted to
borrow a tenner from me. The job would be a godsend to him, and his
social rank would be a great help to our plan. I'll answer for his
jumping at the idea."
"Sound him on the subject, then."
"I will."
"I am glad," said the old merchant, "that you and I have had this
conversation, Ezra. The fact of my having speculated without your
knowledge, and deceived you by a false ledger, has often weighed heavily
upon my conscience, I assure you. It is a relief to me to have told you
all."
"Drop the subject, then," Ezra said curtly. "I must put up with it, for
I have no redress. The thing is done and nothing can undo it; but I
consider that you have willfully wasted the money."
"Believe me, I have tried to act for the best. The good name of our
firm is everything to me. I have spent my whole life in building it up,
and if the day should come when it must go, I trust that I may have gone
myself. There is nothing which I would not do to preserve it."
"I see they want our premiums," Ezra said, glancing at the open letter
upon the table. "How is it that none of those ships go down?
That would give us help."
"Hush! hush!" John Girdlestone cried imploringly. "Speak in a whisper
when you talk of such things."
"I can't understand you," said Ezra petulantly. "You persistently
over-insure your ships, year after year. Look at the _Leopard_; it is
put at more than twice what she was worth as new. And the _Black
Eagle_, I dare say, is about the same. Yet you never have an accident
with them, while your two new uninsured clippers run each other down."
"Well, what more can I do?" replied the merchant "They are thoroughly
rotten. I have done nothing for them for years. Sooner or later they
must go. I cannot do any more."
"I'd make 'em go down quick enough," muttered Ezra, with an oath.
"Why don't you make old Miggs bore a hole in them, or put a light to a
barrel of paraffin? Bless your soul! the thing's done every day.
What's the use of being milk-and-watery about it?"
"No, no, Ezra!" cried his father. "Not that--not that. It's one thing
letting matters take their course, and it is another thing giving
positive orders to scuttle a ship. Besides, it would put us in Miggs'
power. It would be too dangerous."
"Please yourself," said Ezra, with a sneer. "You've got us into the
mess and you must take us out again. If the worst comes to the worst
I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll marry Kate Harston, wash my hands of
the firm, leave you to settle matters with the creditors, and retire
with the forty thousand pounds;" with which threat the junior partner
took up his hat and swaggered out of the office.
After his departure, John Girdlestone spent an hour in anxious thought,
arranging the details of the scheme which he had just submitted to his
son. As he sat, his eye chanced to fall upon the two letters lying on
his desk, and it struck him that they had better be attended to. It did
not suit his plans to fall back upon his credit just yet. It has been
already shown that he was a man of ready resource. He rang the bell and
summoned his senior clerk.
"Good morning, John," he said affably.
"Good morning, Mr. Girdlestone, good morning, sir," said wizened little
John Gilray, rubbing his thin yellow hands together, as a sign of his
gratification.
"I hear, John, that you have come into a legacy lately," Mr. Girdlestone
said.
"Yes, sir. Fifteen hundred pounds, sir. Less legacy duty and
incidental expenses, fourteen hundred and twenty-eight six and
fourpence. My wife's brother Andrew left it, sir, and a very handsome
legacy too."
John Girdlestone smiled with the indulgent smile of one to whom such a
sum was absolutely nothing.
"What have you done with the money, then, John?" he asked carelessly.
"Banked it, sir, in the United Metropolitan."
"In the United Metropolitan, John? Let me see. Their present rate of
interest is three and a half?"
"Three, sir," said John.
"Three! Dear me, John, that is poor interest, very poor indeed. It is
most fortunate that I made these inquiries. I was on the point of
drawing fourteen hundred pounds from one of my correspondents as a
temporary convenience. For this I should pay him five per cent. I have
no objection, John, as you are an old servant of the firm, to giving you
the preference in this matter. I cannot take more than fourteen
hundred--but I shall be happy to accommodate you up to that sum at the
rate named."
John Gilray was overwhelmed by this thoughtful and considerate act. "It
is really too generous and kind, sir," he said. "I don't know how to
thank you."
"Don't mention it, John," the senior partner said grandly. "The firm is
always glad to advance the interests of its employees in any reasonable
manner. Have you your cheque-book with you? Fill it up for fourteen
hundred. No more, John; I cannot oblige you by taking any more."
The head clerk having made out his cheque for the amount, and having
signed his name to it in a cramped little quaint handwriting, which
reminded one of his person, was duly presented with a receipt and
dismissed to his counting-house. There he entertained the other clerks
by a glowing description of the magnanimity of his employer.
John Girdlestone took some sheets of blue official paper from a drawer,
and his quill pen travelled furiously over them with many a screech and
splutter.
"Sir," he said to the bank manager, "I enclose fourteen hundred pounds,
which represents the loose cash about the office. I shall make a heavy
deposit presently. In the meantime, you will, of course, honour
anything that may be presented.--Yours truly, JOHN GIRDLESTONE."
To Lloyd's Insurance Agency he wrote:--"Sir,--Enclosed you will find
cheque for 241 pounds seven shillings and sixpence, being amount due as
premium on the _Leopard_, _Black Eagle_, and _Maid of Athens_. Should
have forwarded cheque before, but with so many things of importance to
look after these trifles are liable to be overlooked."
These two epistles having been sealed, addressed, and despatched, the
elder Girdlestone began to feel somewhat more easy in his mind, and to
devote himself once more to the innocent amusement of planning how a
corner might best be created in diamonds.