“My dear Mr. Hahn, it is a pleasure to deal with a man of your courtesy and comprehension.”
His lordship, with a bow, took up the papers the other had laid down on the table, glanced at them, and passed them along to Angus Mackeller, who scrutinized them with the eye of a hawk. His lordship then read very slowly the document he had been asked to sign, and he took a long time in his examination, during which period the keen eyes of the solicitor could scarcely conceal their apprehension. At last his lordship laid it down.
“I am somewhat at a disadvantage,” he said, “among legal instruments. As I informed you, I am fortunate in possessing the services of a dozen sharper men than myself who are good enough, for a consideration, to advise me on these topics. But, alas! not one of them is present at this moment.”
“Why, my lord, I don’t think you have any reason to complain. I’m here alone, without any corroborative witness on my behalf, while there are three of you sitting here.”
“Ah, now you speak, Mr. Hahn, as if we were contestants—combatants, as one might say—instead of being a quartette of friends. There is no need of witnesses where everything has gone on as smoothly as has been the case since you entered this room. You represent men who are only too anxious to do the right thing, and you meet, I hope, a man who is desirous of effecting a compromise, and I think I may say the same for my friend Mackeller. I am sure nothing would give Mackeller greater pleasure than to treat Mr. Schwartzbrod in the same generous, equitable way in which Mr. Schwartzbrod would treat him.” The solicitor leaned back in his chair, while his smile became a sort of fixed grin.
“Precisely, precisely,” he murmured.
“Of course I don’t pretend to penetrate into all the intricacies of this apparently simple little receipt, but it seems to me that in Mr. Schwartzbrod’s generous desire to protect his stockbrokers, he is doing so, doubtless unconsciously, at my expense.”
“At your expense, my lord?”
“Well, that’s the way it looks to me. These stockbrokers, poor devils, must produce some sixty or seventy thousand shares on which they cannot lay their hands, and this, as my ancient friend Euclid used to remark, is impossible. Now, if I sign this receipt, it appears that I waive all claim against these unfortunate, but nevertheless careless stockbrokers.”
“I thought it was understood, my lord, that, as you obtained quiet possession of the gold field, you were not inclined to push to the wall—I think that is your own phrase—a number of men who, as things are going in the city this year, have not been overburdened with business. Indeed, the stagnation in financial circles, the high bank rate, and all that, doubtless accounts for the eagerness with which these men, regarding the honest commission they were earning, ventured to overstep the bounds set for them, thus placing themselves, as one may say, at your mercy. I somehow took it for granted that you had no animus against this unlucky score.”