“If he had never meddled with our credit,” said Mr. Berkeley, “he might have cheated the Stamp-office to his heart’s content, for anything we should have done to prevent it. But having acted the part that he has by us——”
Fanny and Melea looked at each other with sorrow in their faces; which their brother observed, and quietly said,
“It is not in a spirit of retaliation that we are going to act against Cavendish. It is necessary, for the public safety, that his bank should be closed while there is a chance of its discharging its obligations. If it goes on another year,—I say this in the confidence of our own family circle,—it must break, and ruin half the people in Haleham. If Cavendish can be so timely beset with difficulties,—which, remember, he has brought on himself,—as to be induced to give up the bank, and confine himself to his other businesses, it is possible that those who have trusted him may get their dues, and that banking credit may be saved the shock which his failure must otherwise soon bring upon it.”
“But what is the penalty?”
“A fine of 100l. for every act of issue after the term of license has expired. I am now employed in discovering what Cavendish’s issues have been since the expiration of his license. I hope we may find him liable for just so much as may make him glad to close his bank for the sake of a composition; and not enough to ruin him; though I fancy it would not require a very heavy liability to do that.”
“What a hateful business to be engaged in!” exclaimed Melea.
Very disagreeable indeed, Horace admitted; but Cavendish’s offences towards the D—— bank deserved the worst punishment they could bring upon him. He had known of the forgeries of their notes longer than they had; and not only had he given them no warning, but he had whispered the fact elsewhere in every quarter where it could injure their credit just so far as to make people shy of taking their notes, without causing an abrupt shock, in which he might himself have been involved. He insinuated no doubts of the stability of their house; but told several people in confidence that forgeries of their notes were abroad, so well executed, that it was scarcely possible to distinguish the true notes from the false.
“How came he to know sooner than the partners themselves?” inquired Melea: but neither father nor brother appeared to hear the question.
“May one ask about the forgers,” inquired Fanny, “who they are, and how you dealt with them?”
“No; you may not ask,” replied her brother, smiling. “We are bound not to tell this, even to our own families. Be satisfied in your ignorance; for it is a very sad story, and it would give you nothing but pain to hear it.”