The Bramleighs of Bishop's Folly. Lever Charles James

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      “Of P. E. – Preliminary expenses! There ‘s a commission to inquire into this, and a deputation to investigate that. No men on earth dine like deputations. I never knew what dining was till I was named on a deputation. It was on sewerage. And didn’t the champagne flow! There was a viaduct to be constructed to lead into the Thames, and I never think of that viaduct without the taste of turtle in my mouth, and a genial feeling of milk-punch all over me. The assurance offices say that there was scarcely such a thing known as a gout premium in the City till the joint-stock companies came in; now they have them every day.”

      “Revenons à nos moutons, as the French say, Mr. Cutbill,” said Bramleigh, gravely.

      “If it’s a pun you mean, and that we ‘re to have another bottle of the same, I second the motion.”

      Bramleigh gave a sickly smile as he rang the bell, but neither the jest nor the jester much pleased him.

      “Bring another bottle of ‘Mouton,’ Drayton, and fresh glasses,” said he, as the butler appeared.

      “I ‘ll keep mine; it is warm and mellow,” said Cutbill. “The only fault with that last bottle was the slight chill on it.”

      “You have been frank with me, Mr. Cutbill,” said Bramleigh, as soon as the servant withdrew, “and I will be no less so with you. I have retired from the world of business – I have quitted the active sphere where I have passed some thirty odd years, and have surrendered ambition, either of money-making, or place, or rank, and come over here with one single desire, one single wish – I want to see what’s to be done for Ireland.”

      Cutbill lifted his glass to his lips, but scarcely in time to hide the smile of incredulous drollery which curled them, and which the other’s quick glance detected.

      “There is nothing to sneer at, sir, in what I said, and I will repeat my words. I want to see what’s to be done for Ireland.”

      “It ‘s very laudable in you, there can be no doubt,” said Cutbill, gravely.

      “I am well aware of the peril incurred by addressing to men like yourself, Mr. Cutbill, any opinions – any sentiments – which savor of disinterestedness, or – or – ”

      “Poetry,” suggested Cutbill.

      “No, sir; patriotism was the word I sought for. And it is not by any means necessary that a man should be an Irishman to care for Ireland. I think, sir, there is nothing in that sentiment at least which will move your ridicule.”

      “Quite the reverse. I have drunk ‘Prosperity to Ireland’ at public dinners for twenty years; and in very good liquor too, occasionally.”

      “I am happy to address a gentleman so graciously disposed to listen to me,” said Bramleigh, whose face was now crimson with anger. “There is only one thing more to be wished for – that he would join some amount of trustfulness to his politeness; with that he would be perfect.”

      “Here goes, then, for perfection,” cried Cutbill, gayly. “I ‘m ready from this time to believe anything you tell me.”

      “Sir, I will not draw largely on the fund you so generously place at my disposal. I will simply ask you to believe me a man of honor.”

      “Only that? No more than that?”

      “No more, I pledge you my word.”

      “My dear Bramleigh, your return for the income-tax is enough to prove that. Nothing short of high integrity ever possessed as good a fortune as yours.”

      “You are speaking of my fortune, Mr. Cutbill, not of my character.”

      “Ain’t they the same? Ain’t they one and the same? Show me your dividends, and I will show you your disposition – that’s as true as the Bible.”

      “I will not follow you into this nice inquiry. I will simply return to where I started from, and repeat, I want to do something for Ireland.”

      “Do it, in God’s name; and I hope you ‘ll like it when it ‘s done. I have known some half-dozen men in my time who had the same sort of ambition. One of them tried a cotton-mill on the Liffey, and they burned him down. Another went in for patent fuel, and they shot his steward. A third tried Galway marble, and they shot himself. But after all there ‘s more honor where there ‘s more danger, What, may I ask, is your little game for Ireland?”

      “I begin to suspect that a better time for business, Mr. Cutbill, might be an hour after breakfast. Shall we adjourn till to-morrow morning?”

      “I am completely at your orders. For my own part, I never felt clearer in my life than I do this minute. I ‘m ready to go into coal with you: from the time of sinking the shaft to riddling the slack, my little calculations are all made. I could address a board of managing directors here as I sit; and say, what for dividend, what for repairs, what for a reserved fund, and what for the small robberies.”

      The unparalleled coolness of the man had now pushed Bramleigh’s patience to its last limit; but a latent fear of what such a fellow might be in his enmity, restrained him and compelled him to be cautious.

      “What sum do you think the project will require, Mr. Cutbill?”

      “I think about eighty thousand; but I’d say one hundred and fifty – it’s always more respectable. Small investments are seldom liked; and then the margin – the margin is broader.”

      “Yes, certainly; the margin is much broader.”

      “Fifty-pound shares, with a call of five every three months, will start us. The chief thing is to begin with a large hand.” Here he made a wide sweep of his arm.

      “For coal like that yonder,” said Bramleigh, pointing to the specimen, “you ‘d not get ten shillings the ton.”

      “Fifteen – fifteen. I’d make it the test of a man’s patriotism to use it. I ‘d get the Viceroy to burn it, and the Chief Secretary, and the Archbishop, and Father Cullen. I ‘d heat St. Patrick’s with it, and the national schools. There could be no disguise about it; like the native whiskey, it would be known by the smell of the smoke.”

      “You have drawn up some sort of prospectus?”

      “Some sort of prospectus! I think I have. There’s a document there on the table might go before the House of Commons this minute; and the short and the long of it is, Bramleigh” – here he crossed his arms on the table, and dropped his voice to a tone of great confidence – “it is a good thing – a right good thing. There ‘s coal there, of one kind or other, for five-and-twenty years, perhaps more. The real, I may say, the only difficulty of the whole scheme will be to keep old Culduff from running off with all the profits. As soon as the money comes rolling in, he ‘ll set off shelling it out; he ‘s just as wasteful as he was thirty years ago.”

      “That will be impossible when a company is once regularly formed.”

      “I know that, – I know that; but men of his stamp say, ‘We know nothing about trade. We have n’t been bred up to office-stools and big ledgers; and when we want money, we get it how we can.’”

      “We can’t prevent him selling out or mortgaging his shares. You mean, in short, that he should not be on the direction?” added he.

      “That’s СКАЧАТЬ