“No,” I replied; “you must issue a notice, setting forth that, owing to General Whittingham’s malversations, payments must be temporarily suspended. Promise it will be all right later on.”
“Very good,” said he; “and now I shall go and look up those officers. I must keep them in good temper, and the men too. I shall give ‘em another ten thousand.”
“Generous hero!” said I, “and I shall go and restore this cash to my employers.”
It was twelve o’clock when I left the Golden House and strolled quietly down to Liberty Street. The larger part of the soldiers had been drawn off, but a couple of companies still kept guard in the Piazza. The usual occupations of life were going on amid a confused stir of excitement, and I saw by the interest my appearance aroused that some part at least of my share in the night’s doing had leaked out. The Gazette had published a special edition, in which it hailed the advent of freedom, and, while lauding McGregor to the skies, bestowed a warm commendation on the “noble Englishman who, with a native love of liberty, had taken on himself the burden of Aureataland in her hour of travail.” The metaphor struck me as inappropriate, but the sentiment was most healthy; and when I finally beheld two officers of police sitting on the head of a drunken man for toasting the fallen rigime, I could say to myself, as I turned into the bank, “Order reigns in Warsaw.”
General assent had proclaimed a suspension of commerce on this auspicious day, and I found Jones sitting idle and ill at ease. I explained to him the state of affairs, showing how the President’s dishonorable scheme had compelled me, in the interests of the bank, to take a more or less active part in the revolution. It was pathetic to hear him bewail the villainy of the man he had trusted, and when I produced the money he blessed me fervently, and at once proposed writing to the directors a full account of the matter.
“They are bound to vote you an honorarium, sir,” he said.
“I don’t know, Jones,” I replied. “I am afraid there is a certain prejudice against me at headquarters. But in any case I have resolved to forego the personal advantage that might accrue to me from my conduct. President McGregor has made a strong representation to me that the schemes of General Whittingham, if publicly known, would, however unjustly, prejudice the credit of Aureataland, and he appealed to me not to give particulars to the world. In matters such as these, Jones, we cannot be guided solely by selfish considerations.”
“God forbid, sir!” said Jones, much moved.
“I have, therefore, consented to restrict myself to a confidential communication to the directors; they must judge how far they will pass it on to the shareholders. To the world at large I shall say nothing of the second loan; and I know you will oblige me by treating this money as the product of realizations in the ordinary course of business. The recent disturbances will quite account for so large a sum being called in.”
“I don’t quite see how I can arrange that.”