Frank was silent. After a pause his wife spoke.
“But that would be cheating, would it not, Arthur?”
Prescott hesitated; he was too straightforward to equivocate.
“I don’t know that it would be absolutely cheating, Kate. Frank, you see, has lost a large sum by the fall of the Bank, and he may consider that he has a perfect right to save the rest if he can. Hundreds will do so, no doubt.”
“Still, I suppose it is cheating all the same, Arthur?” Kate said quietly. “If Frank’s money properly belongs to the creditors of the Bank, it must be cheating if he goes off without paying it.”
“Look here, Prescott,” Frank said gravely; “the interest and sympathy of the public will in this, as in all cases, be with the depositor, and not with the shareholder. In this case more than ordinarily so; for the depositors in the ‘Indian’ were old Indian officers, and their widows and children. The distress this smash will cause will be terrible; and by what I hear, even after the greatest amount possible is wrung out of the shareholders, there will not be nearly enough to pay the depositors in full. Now, Prescott, I could stand a good deal of hardship and trial, but I could not stand being pointed at as a man who had swindled—that would be the word, old man; there is no use mincing it—the widows and orphans who have been brought to want by the failure of the Bank. Even for Katie’s sake I could not do that.”
“You never thought we would, did you, Arthur?”
“No, I did not,” Prescott answered. “I thought you would not, still I thought it right to suggest the thing before it is too late to be carried out. There is no doubt that a vast number of the unfortunate shareholders of the ‘Indian’ are preparing to spend the rest of their time on the Continent.”
“It is very wicked of them,” Katie said, earnestly.
“You are too hard, little woman,” Frank said. “We must not judge other people by ourselves. There are circumstances under which I might myself do what they are doing. For me there would be no excuse for choosing a life of dishonest ease to setting-to at hard work of some sort. I am not yet seven-and-twenty; it is comparatively easy for me to begin life; but suppose I were an old man, with no possible kind of work to turn to to earn a living, and with a wife of my own age, and a grown-up daughter or two, what then? What could I possibly do? You must remember our case is just as hard as that of the depositors. We bought shares at prices which paid five or six per cent.—no extraordinary interest—and we imagined that the money was absolutely safe. The depositors put their money in the Bank, and received interest for it. The Bank goes, from no fault of ours any more than of theirs. We lose every penny invested; they will receive, at any rate, some part of what they put in. I think, then, that an old man, in the case I have spoken of, would be morally justified in trying to save anything which may remain to him; but I do not think a young man would be.”