THE NOVELIST

Observer, Volume 2, Issue 41, 25 June 1881, Page 452

THE NOVELIST

S I XTY PER CENT.

A Story, in Two Parts.

PART II

Twenty-two years old, j>pssesscd of a large number of acquaintances in the aristocracy, and having £5000 in hand to commence life with — such was Abel Jownclice's j>osition when he had taken his degree and had received £2000 from his father. Old Jowndice being unaware of his son's resources, now exhorted him to go out to Peru and look after Browne's guano. Bnt Abel expressed his determination to remain in England. " You had better give me a clerkship in your bank, father. You and Browne are going into Parliament, and will require a confidential clerk in the office. Besides, I want to learn banking." "What do you want to learn banking for ?" asked the old man, suspiciously. " Youmusn't expect to become a partner ; we are going to buy out Dottangoe, and when I die the bank must become Browne's sole property. I won't have him worried by partners." "It Avill do Browne no harm to haA'e me as a manager, though. Who would serve him better than his own brother?" " If I could believe that," said old Jowndice, with a glance that tried to read into Abel's very soul. "Certainly, if you would devote yourself like a faithful servant to your brother's interest, you would be acting like a good son towards me. Well, I'll take you on trial ; but remember, I only give my clerks £90 a-year at starting." ' ' You had better appoint me deptuy manager, thougl), at once, at £400 a-year, and let me lodge and board at home," replied Abel, with a coolness that staggered his father. The old man stared a moment, as if he had become suddenly conscious that this youngest son of his was going to be his master. Then he shuffled out, brooding ; but presently, Browne, hearing of what had passed, insisted that Abel's oiler .should be accepted. "There's nobody I should better like to have under me than Abel," he said; "he seems to have brought back a steady business head from Oxford." "Abel has been circumventing you, boy — that's the truth of it !" exclaimed tlie old man, almost angrily. "Tell me the truth, now; he has been talking you into accepting this scheme." "I give you my word, father, that he never breathed a word to me about it. I was as much astonished as gratified when you mentioned the proposal." "Is it so?" answered old Jowndice, and he was mollified. For the last two hours he had been hating his youngest son as an enemy, whose designs he scented, but could not see through. The truth is, however, that Abel's offer came at a very opportune moment. Old Mr Dottangoe, the second partner, was going to retire from the business, and it was probable that the manager, Mr Skinthwaite, would then expect to bo admitted into partnership, and, finding himself disappointed, resign in a huff. Where should old Jowndice look, then, for a confidential man? Besides, the ambitious banker had for some time been nursing a couple of constituencies for himself and his son, and a general election was coining on, so that a part of his time would soon be occupied in political business, the very thought of which he loathed. Old Jowndice's only object in getting a seat in the House of Commons for himself was that Browne's children might be able to say by-and-by : " Our father and grandfather both sat at Parliament." If old Jowndice's father had been still alive, he would have tried to pitchfork that venerable fossil into the House, too, so that it might be said that the heads of three generations of Jowndices had been legislators. The oldness of new families must be achieved at steam-pace nowadays. Had not the ivy been planted over all the new walls of Brownfield Hall, and had not the facade of that mansion been painted with a slight mixture of soot to make it look grey with age ? So Abel became a clerk in his father's bank, and no shop-boy suspected of designs on the | till was ever more closely watched by his master than he was by his father. But extremes meet; and exaggerated mistrust often turns to confidence unlimited. When old Jowndice saw his youngest son betake himself to the dryest work of banking — when he saw him toiling day after | day long after all the other clerks had gone, and sucking quietly but steadily out of Mr Skinthwaite all those secrets of the firm which made that manager an almost invaluable employe, — a man who would be hard to replace ; then old Jowndice rejoiced to think that Abel had in him all the stuff of a drudge, and would never stand in the way of his "brilliant and talented " brother. In what Browne's brilliancy and talents consisted none but his father would have been able to say. But the old man's infatuation led him to think that whatever Browne said or did was perfect, and he had come to regard this douce, book-loving heir of as a high authority on finance, merely because Browne never contradicted him. As for Abel Jowndice, he slaved, because he wanted to master the mysteries of banking, to learn who were his father's customers, and what their pecuniary position was ; and the better to do this he ingratiated himself with Mr Skinthwaite — a keen, active manager, fortyfive years old. This Mr Skinthwaite, being in nowise privy to the arrangement under which Abel had entered the bank, misunderstood it. He thought that old Jowndice, haying at last recognised Browne's notorious busines incapacities, had selected his youngest son to succeed 1 him as effective head of the Bank ; and whereas he Skinthwaite, expected .soon to be admitted as a junior partner, he thought he could not do better than to make a friend at once of Abel, who was to be his future chief and associate. He concealed nothing; he even let him become possessor of a few secrets which he had kept from old Jowndiee. Poor man, he

thought himself full of cunning, but the young man fresh from Oxford was a much sharper file than he. Abel Jowndice led a double life. A clerk by day, he spent his evenings in going to places of amusement or to parties where he was likely to fall in with some of his old school and college friends. In the course of two years after he had taken to banking he had trebled his capital of £5,000 by lending money to youngsters who were squandering their lives and substance. His three best customers were Lords Belbury, Borromore, and Battlefield ; but they sent a number more to him. It was a godsend to them all that " Jowndey " had entered his father's bank, for they imagined that he was already a partner, and anticipated that they should be able to draw supplies from him without giving him in some shape or other three times that guinea's worth. Lord Belbury was a type of the gentlemanlike borrower, always friendly, frank, and, to a certain extent, careful about Ms embarrasments, and was punctual in his payments, though he might return in a few clays and raise double the former loan. Lord Borromore — a good-natured lout — was an hysteric borrower, who used to talk about bolting to Australia, and sometimes hint at suicide, because "lie could not bear to bring disgrace on his mother." Lord Kafflefield was a specimen of the arrdgant youngster. He had a handsome dark, scrowling face ; he used to bite his moustache, and swear fearful oaths, saying he mmt have this or that at any cost. He treated Abel with bare civility— no more; but, on the other hand, he recklessly gave him securities of the highest value. Abel, who was always cool, let him have what money he wanted, and renewed his bills as often as was necessary. Nobody, however, looked upon this astute young man as a regular money-lender, for lie was as secret as the tomb ; aud it was not often to the advantage of the friends who had. borrowed from him to blab to each other that they had so done. Abel got admitted into the best clubs, and was a welcome guest at great houses. He danced, was obliging to old ladies, agreeable to young ones, but never asserted himself in any conceited way. Talk of JeAv moneylenders with their transparent craft and noisy ostentation, why there was not one among the lot could have held a candle to the smooth, polished young man who had formed a thousand acquaintances at Eton and Oxford, and knew the ins and outs of society like a glove. Abel was a gentleman money-lender, who knew how gentlemen should be treated. When a loan was asked of him, he used to consider for a moment, nod good-naturedly, and promise to send the cheque in the morning, leaving his debtors to forward him their bills at their convenience. And this he did even with borrowers whose credit was shaky ; for he had noticed that men are often trustworthy in proportion as you trust them. The worst tricks upon lenders are played by men who feel that they are mistrusted, and who consequently exercise all their wits in foiling suspicion. One day a youngster, named the Hon. Peter Skip penham, who had been flying kites to anytime, ran, with a flushed face, into the Jowndice's bank, and asked Abel to casli him a cheque for £2,000, drawn on a country bank by his, Skippenham's, elder brother. "Abel, who was oft" his guard at the moment, ordered the cashier to pay the money ; but the moment young Skippenham was gone, he suspected a forgery. Instead of putting his suspicions to the proof, as a less clever man would have done, thereby bringing Skippcnham to trouble, he wrote the lad the same day a frienly note, saying that by some mistake his cheque had got 'burned, so that lie would ask him kindly to send a simple receipt for the money. Skippenham was just on the point of bolting for the Continent, but this respite from exposure stayed him. A few weeks later his elder brother was killed out hunting, and the youngster coming into the title and property, paid £2,000, and became a very good friend and customer of Abel's. At the end of five years Abel's position was this :— He had £10,000 in cash always ready for advances ; £40,000 invested in sound public securities ; and over £70,000 of money lent out in various directions, part on good security, part on paper that was worthless, so far as assets went, but valuable because of forged signatures on it. Moreover, Abel had now taken three persons into partnership, from whose operations lie derived a steady iacome of about £5,000 a-year. There was, in the first place, a Mr Spother, a discharged clerk of his father's, who did such dirty work as Abel did not care to do, lending comparatively small sums at 60 percent., to subalterns, undergraduates, and other young fools Avho were too small fry for Abel to deal with. Mr Spottier had offices as an accountant in a street leading out of the Strand. Abel's second partner was Mr Swinney, late from the Messrs. Gehazi's, who had now set up for himself, having a jeweller's shop, under the name of Swinney, in Bondstreet, and a pawn broking establishment, under the name of Benjudah, in the Strand. Abe used to recommend customers to Swinney, and also give him hints as to the distressed people in society to whom he might go and proffer goods on credit. The visit of Swinney to such persons was always preceded by a" circular coming from the house of "Benjudah," which offered to advance "the highest cash prices on jewellery, and the utmost secrecy observed." So, when Swinney used to arrive with hi glittering bagful of trinkets, and with his invitation to honour his establishment in Bondstreet with a visit, he could always feel pretty sure that most of the trinkets he disposed of would find their way to Benjudah's in course of a day or two, when the fair, or unfair, pawners would find themselves in Swinney's— i.e., in Abel Jowndice's power. For the law makes it a misdemeanour to pawn goods that have not been paid for. Abel's third occult partner was a Mrs Moder, who kept a fashionable millinery shop, inveigled ladies into debt, and then sent them either to borrow money from Spother, or to pawn goods at Benjudah's. She would also, in some cases, lend money herself to ladies of undoubted solvency, who suddenly wanted considerable sums for clandestine purposes. . Thus it may be said that Abel Jowndice held society enclosed in a pretty tight ring; and that he »hould become richer and

richer every year was only natural. At the end of ten years he was worth a quarter of a million sterling, Avithout old Jowndice, his father, suspecting that he had any resources beyond the £1,000 a-year, paid to him by quarterly instalments ; for by degrees Abel's salary in the bank had been raised to that figure. By that time Abel was master of the bank. His father, who had been sitting ten years in the House of Commons, and was now a baronet, under the name of Sir Crabbe Jowndice, had lapsed into feeble health, though he was not in his dotage. He had got reconciled long ago to the idea of Abel's managing the bank, but he used repeatedly to say to his beloved Browne : " When I'm dead, boy, never let Abel become your partner. Keep him down, boy ; he's not fit for any but desk work. He's no financier. Raise his salary by fifties a-year up to £1500, but don't go beyond. If he became rich he'd grow conceited, and you'd do him a ibad service." Poor Sir Crabbe ! he little knew what would happen when he died. He gave up the ghost soon after arranging for Browne's marriage with the daughter of an earl, and less than a twelvemonth after his decease this long-planned match had been broken oft", and Browne, marrying a pretty girl without a penny, begged — absolutely begged — Abel to take the bank off his hands, and to give him an income out of it instead. Abel, after reflecting, generously offered £100,000 down, and £10,000 a-year besides for the whole of Browne's life, with a reversionary pension of £4000 to his widow. On these terms lie bought a bank which Avas certainly worth a <cool tAVO millions sterling, if not more. But BroAvne, that great authority on finance, estimated that heliad made a good bargain. Ab<}l JoAvndice took his old mentor, Skinth--waite, into partnership, giving him a quarter share of the profits, for SkintliAvaite Avas a useful help, and had been of great use to him in the early days of his career as a money lender, by letting him draw large sums from the bank unknoAvn to old JoAA'ndice. Skinthwaite used to think Abel wanted these sums for purposes of dissipation, and a darkling thought passed through his mind at one time that if Abel AA-ent to the bad, he Skinthwaite would become entire master of the bank. But lie liA^ed to see the errors of his judgment, and to marvel at his oaa'u folly. For noAV, at the age of forty, Mr Abel Jown<lice is one of the richest bankers in England. He has a seat in Parliament, a large estate, and an enormous deal of influence, which may probably bring him some day into the Cabinet or the Peerage. His quondam friends, Belbury, Borromore, and Ramefield, haA T e long come to grief. One died of consumption, another had to leave England dishonoured, and the third poisoned himself Avith laudanum. JoAvndice IiA r es in the house of Belbury's ancestors, and * has his shooting quarters in the Scottish castle where Borromore's forefathers dAvelt. He is not a married man, and he does not seem a particular happy one — so cold of eye and thin of lip is he. But perhaps looks mean nothing. Abel JoAvndice set his heart on becoming rich and powerful, and he has succeeded — Avithout muck trouble either, as he hoaa' thinks when he looks back on the past.