Luke Somerton rated his wife in a quiet, manly fashion for her injustice towards Paul, and her unkind return for the generous attention of Miss Tallant; and by-and-by Mrs. Somerton began to cry, and that was a sufficient apology to the rich merchant’s daughter, who sat beside the bailiff’s wife and said all sorts of comforting things, whilst Mr. Somerton set about packing up a carpet-bag for the purpose of going to London; and eventually Miss Somerton presented herself, and requested that she might be permitted to accompany her father.
CHAPTER XX.
SHOWS HOW THE PURSE FOUND ITS WAY INTO PAUL SOMERTON’S BOX.
In this world the victory is not always with the good and the true. It has shaken many a man’s faith before now to see the wicked and the selfish thrive, whilst the noble, and the generous, and the pure, were beggars.
Suppose there were no hereafter? What would compensate us for the unequal justice which, judged by the world’s standard, is meted out? What would hinder the unfortunate and poverty-stricken from making their quietus with a bare bodkin? What would reconcile the man bound to work on, and toil on, and sweat and drudge in misery, from eating his very life out with envy of the rich? What would prevent the wealthy man who, willing to help his poorer brethren to the fullest extent, finds individual help like his of comparatively little use—what would there be left for him but to put down the unequal distribution of riches to gross injustice? How could we reconcile it with a good and beneficent Creator, that some are born and bred in poverty and wretchedness, and are doomed to wear the chain of want all their lives; whilst others inherit all the luxuries of purple and fine linen, and chairs of state and command? What else but a future of rewards and punishments would enable us to live and endure all this, rich and poor, good and bad, selfish and generous?
Honesty is the best policy in the end, so far as personal happiness is concerned. It is a selfish way of preaching honesty nevertheless; but how often, in a worldly sense, does the axiom seem to be reversed. On the Stock Exchange there were certain men who were dishonest. They lied wilfully and designedly about the credit of banks and companies; they propagated scandalous reports about certain establishments; they sent out thousands of lying letters throughout the country, cautioning people against concerns which they knew to be safe. Then they went into the market and sold shares which they did not possess, and secured low quotations in the newspapers. This frightened people who had invested their money honourably, and they began to sell. Confidence was shaken, and the “bears” made money. Their lies and dishonesty ruined hundreds of honest people; but men like young Tallant and Mr. Gibbs profited by the transactions. They bought and sold at pleasure, and in the midst of the general panic selected what concern they liked for ruin.
It is true that by degrees the gentlemen known as “bears” created a storm which they could not control, and that some fell by their own thunder—some were caught in their own snares; whilst others thrived and waxed rich, and retired on handsome fortunes, many of them made by purchasing at a low figure shares which they had assisted to depreciate.
Young Tallant was amongst those who made large sums of money. He was fortunate in all he undertook; and on that very morning when he was denounced at the great City meeting, his “bearing” speculations represented a profit to the tune of many thousands. It was in this wise: he was a director of the Mercantile Finance Bank. On the previous day the shares had been run down by false reports to ten shillings a share—scrip upon which twenty pounds had been paid. Young Tallant bought two thousand shares at the close of the market. The next day the Times contradicted the rumours, the directors made a statement, confidence was restored in a few hours, and the director who knew that such would be the case, sold his two thousand at an average of more than seven pounds a share.
Since the row at the Ashford Club he had acted more upon his own account, and had avoided Mr. Shuffleton Gibbs, who, left to his own machinations, had been a little too clever in his stock-jobbing operations; he had sold largely shares which had rallied, and were likely to stand all future assaults. But he still had schemes on hand which seemed likely to bear substantial monetary fruits. He was rich enough, as the readers of this history will no doubt have guessed, to encompass his revenge against Paul Somerton.
The plot had been well and skilfully managed. Thomas Dibble had led a life of dreadful misery since his loss of the five hundred pounds, and Mr. Gibbs had aggravated his torture with a thumb-screwish perfection of cruelty. The shares which Thomas Dibble had bought carried a future responsibility of fifteen hundred pounds. So that his loss, instead of being five hundred, might really have been increased to two thousand.
Mr. Gibbs, by degrees, explained this to the wretched Dibble, who had lain awake during long weary nights, beside the partner of his bosom, suffering all sorts of agonies, and without daring to explain his misery to Mrs. D., who said enough every day and night about the five hundred pounds to have broken down more sensitive minds than Dibble’s.