The erstwhile Napoleon passed the orange-coloured paper to Sir Arthur Custer.
‘No answer,’ he said calmly to the page.
CHAPTER XIII—THE VASE
The sensation of the next day’s Stock Exchange was the unsuccessfulness of the attempts of Simon Lock’s brokers—he employed several different firms—to buy La Princesse shares. It was not definitely stated who wanted these shares, but everyone seemed to be aware that Simon Lock was the man in the hole. The Exchange laughed quietly to itself; it did not dare to laugh aloud, for Simon Lock was still a person to be feared. Not a single share was to be obtained at any price; they had all been withdrawn from the market. In vain Simon Lock tried to discover the holders. The identity of the holders seemed to be wrapped in impenetrable mystery. He went to one man, a member of the Westralian market, who varied the excitements of the Exchange by the excitements of prodigious play at Monte Carlo, and took him out to lunch. The great Simon Lock actually took this man, a nonentity in the distinguished financial circles in which Simon moved, out to lunch at a famous and expensive restaurant, where those City men who want real turtle soup can always get it.
‘My people sold you ten thousand Princesse shares the other day,’ said Simon Lock ingratiatingly to this man.
‘True,’ said the man cautiously, ‘at three.’ ‘Just so,’ said Lock; ‘and we have to deliver in a week.’
‘In a week,’ repeated the man absently.
‘Well, look here,’ said Simon Lock, making a sudden plunge, ‘we don’t want to deliver; it doesn’t suit us. See?’