No honest man placed in such a position could dispute the truth of this proposition, and Mr. Mortomley did not attempt to do so.
"And I really do not see how you are to get through it," went on Mr. Forde.
"I think—indeed, I am sure I shall not have any opposing creditor—unless it may be you," said Mortomley suggestively.
"Oh! as for me," answered Mr. Forde, "I shall walk out of the concern whenever you go into liquidation. I have pledged myself so deeply concerning your solvency and respectability that I could not face my directors over your account. It is a fact, I could not. I must leave; and I am not a young and adaptable man, like your nephew there, able to play at football with fortune, and I am not like you, Mr. Mortomley, so fortunate as to have married a wife possessed of money. When I go all goes; when this salary ceases, I have not the faintest idea where to turn to procure another, and what is to become of my wife and children God alone knows. Poor little Alfie!" added Mr. Forde sotto voce, apostrophizing the latest pug-nosed, round-faced, vacant-eyed darling with which Mrs. Forde had as yet blessed the managerial mansion.
That shot went straight home. Mortomley thought of his wife and his Lenore, and remained ashamedly silent. Mr. Forde perceiving his advantage pressed it.
"You are the last man I should have considered capable of taking such a mean advantage."
"Good heavens!" broke in Mortomley, "what would you have me do? Can I keep on a business with men in possession, with judgments out against me, with writs returnable next week and the week after. Mean advantage! I have borne what I think no other man living would have done, and I believe I have been a simple fool for my pains."
At this juncture Rupert interposed.
"If you allow Mr. Forde to persuade you to draw back now you will be a simple fool."
"Keep silence, sir," said Mr. Forde facing round on this undesired prophet.