Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (232 page)

BOOK: Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks)
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was
 
agitated - and I am still deeply grieved, to think that my want of
judgment and foresight in a certain speculation should have involved in ruin of
those whom I wish well! But I suffered as well as they - I lost as many
thousands as they did," continued Mr. Greenwood, passing once more into
that system of plausible, specious, and deceptive reasoning, which lulled so
many suspicions, and closed the eyes of so many persons with regard to his real
character: "and although I have done nothing for which I can be blamed by
the world, I may still reproach myself when I find that others whom I care for
have suffered by my speculations."
    The count was staggered at this expression and honourable
manifestation of feeling on the part of one whom he had a few minutes ago begun
to look upon as a selfish adventurer, callous to all humane emotions and
philanthropic sentiments.
    Mr. Greenwood continued:-
    "When that unfortunate speculation of mine took place,
I was not so experienced in the sinuosities of the commercial and financial
worlds as I am now. I lost my all, and poverty stared me in the face."
    Mr. Greenwood's voice faltered, although he was now once
more uttering a tissue of falsehoods.
    "But by dint of some good fortune and much hard toll
and unwearied application to business, I retrieved my circumstances. Now,
answer me candidly, Count Alteroni; is there any thing dishonourable in my
career? Will you judge a man upon an ex-parte statement? Is not one story very
good until another be told? Why, if all persons viewed their affairs constantly
in the same light, would there be any business for the civil tribunals? Do not
plaintiff and defendant invariably survey the point at issue between them under
discrepant aspects? If they did not, wherefore do they go to law? You may allow
Mr. Markham and Mr. Monroe to entertain their views; you will also permit me to
enjoy mine?"
    "Mr. Greenwood," said, the count, "I am
afraid I have been too severe-  nay, even rude in my observations. You
will forgive me?"
    "My dear sir, say not another word," ejaculated
the financier, chuckling inwardly at the triumphant victory which he had thus
gained over the suspicious of the Italian nobleman.
    At that moment a servant entered the room, and informed
Count Alteroni "that the Earl of Warrington was in the drawing-room, and
requested an interview, at which his lordship would not detain the count above
ten minutes."
    The count, having desired Mr. Greenwood not to depart until
his return, and apologising for his temporary absence, proceeded to the
drawing-room, where the Earl of Warrington awaited him.
    The earl rose when the count entered the apartment; and that
proud, wealthy, and high-born English peer wore an air of profound respect and
deference, as he returned the salutation of the Italian exile. 
    " Your lordship," said the earl, "will, I
hope, pardon this intrusion at so unseemly an hour —"
    "The Earl of Warrington in always welcome,"
interrupted Count Alteroni; "and if I cannot give him so princely a
reception in England as I was proud to do in Italy, it is my means and not my
will, which is the cause."
    "My lord, I beseech you not to allude to any
discrepancy in that respect - a discrepancy which I can regret for your
lordship only, and not for myself," said the earl. "Indeed, I am so
far selfish on the present occasion, that I am come to ask a favour."

"Name the matter in which my poor services can avail your
lordship," returned the count, "and I pledge myself in advance to
meet your wishes. "
    "My lord," said the Earl of Warrington, "I
must inform your lordship that I am somewhat interested in a cousin of mine of
the name of Eliza Sydney. This lady loved a man who was unworthy of her - a
wretch  whose pursuits are villainy, and who enriches himself at the
expense of the unwary and confiding. The heartless scoundrel to whom I allude,
and the full measure of whose infamy was only exposed to me this day, has
endeavoured to  possess himself of the person of Eliza in a manner the
most atrocious and cowardly. My lord, he employed a confederate to administer
soporific drugs to her; but Providence moved that confederate's heart, and
frustrated the damnable scheme."
    "And can such conduct go unpunished in this lend of
excellent laws and unerring justice?" inquired the count.
    "Ah! my lord," replied the earl, "this man is
possessed of great wealth, and consequently of great Influence; for, in
England,
 
money
 
is
 
power!
 
Moreover, the complete chain of
evidence is wanting ; and then exposure to the female in such a case is almost
equal to a stigma and to shame! To continue my brief tale, my lord - this man,
with a demon heart, is one who will persecute my cousin Eliza to the very
death. A lady of my acquaintance, who can also tell a tale of the unequalled villainy
of this George Montague Greenwood —"
    "What!" ejaculated the count; "do I hear
aright? or do my ears deceive me? What name did you give the miscreant who
administered opiate drugs to a woman with the foulest of motives?"
    "George Montague Greenwood, repeated the earl.
    "O God!" ejaculated the count, sinking back in his
chair, and covering his face with his hands; " I thank thee that thou hast
intervened ere it was too late to prevent that fearful sacrifice of my
daughter!"
    "Pardon me, my lord," exclaimed the earl, "if
I have awakened any disagreeable reminiscences, or produced impressions —"
    "Your lordship has done me an infinite service, in
fully opening my eyes to the villainy of a man whose damnable sophistry glosses
over his crimes with so deceptive a varnish, that the sight is dazzled when
contemplating his conduct."
    As the count uttered these words he wrung the
 
hands of the English peer with
the most friendly and grateful warmth.
    "Another time, my lord," continued the Italian
noble, "I will explain to you the cause of my present emotions. You will
then perceive how confirmed a miscreant is this Greenwood. In the meantime tell
me how I can aid your lordship?"
    "I was about to inform you, my lord," continued
the Earl of Warrington, "that Miss Sydney, alarmed and appalled at the
persecution of this man, who seems to spare neither expense nor crime to
accomplish any purpose upon which he has once set his mind, has determined to
sojourn for a time upon the Continent. Your lordship is aware that I possess a
humble villa in the suburbs of Montoni —"
    "A beautiful residence, on the contrary," said the
count "and where," he added with a sigh, "in happier times I
have partaken of your hospitality."
    "Yes, your lordship has honoured me with your society
at that retreat," said the earl, with a low and deferential bow. "It
is to that villa that I now propose to despatch my cousin, in order that she
may escape the persecutions and the plots of this vile Greenwood. The object of
my present visit is to solicit your lordship for a few letters of introduction
for Miss Sydney to some of those families in Montoni with whom she may
experience the charms of profitable and intellectual society."
    "With much pleasure," answered the count.
"When does Miss Sydney propose to leave England?"
    "The day after to-morrow, my lord."
    "To-morrow evening your lordship shall receive the
letters which Miss Sydney requires. They will of course be unsealed - both in
observance of the rules of etiquette, and on account of the custom-house
officers in the continental states; but your lordship will take care that they
be not opened in England."
    "I comprehend you, my lord. The incognito which your
lordship chooses to preserve in this country shall not be disturbed by any
Indiscretion on the part of myself or of those connected with me."
    The Earl of Warrington then took his leave.
    The moment he had departed, the count rang the bell, and
said to the servant who answered the summons, "Request Mr. Greenwood to
favour me with his company in this room -
 
here!
"
    In another minute the financier was introduced into the
saloon which the count was pacing with uneven and agitated steps.
    "Mr. Greenwood," said the Italian nobleman,
"I think you recollect the subject of our conversation when I was called
away by the visit of the Earl of Warrington?"
    " Perfectly," answered the financier, who
perceived that there was again something wrong. "I remember that you made
many accusations against me, all of which I most satisfactorily explained -
insomuch that you very handsomely apologised for the severity of your
language."
    "Then, sir," continued the count, with difficulty
restraining his impatience while Mr. Greenwood thus delivered himself, "if
you be really such an honourable and such an injured man as you would
represent, and if you be really grieved when you hear that a fellow-creature
has been ruined by the failure of your speculations, have the kindness to
return to me the money which I have confided to you, and I shall be inclined to
think of you as you choose to think of yourself. To tell the truth. I am
already sick of the uncertainty of speculation; and I would rather withdraw
from the enterprise altogether."
    "Really, my dear sir," said Mr. Greenwood,
"this demand is so very irregular - so exceedingly unbusiness-like —"
    "We will not place it upon the footing of business,
sir," interrupted the count emphatically; "we will place it upon the
basis of
 
honour.
"
    "Honour and business with me, my dear sir, are
synonymous," said the financier with a smile.
    "So much the better!" ejaculated the counts "
I see that we shall not dispute over this matter. The whole .is summed up in a
few words: return me the money I have placed in your hands."
    "These things cannot be done in a hurry, my dear
sir," said Mr Greenwood, playing with a very handsome gold guard-chain
which fastened over his waistcoat.
    "Either you have made away with my money, or you have
it in your possession still," exclaimed the count. "If you have it,
give me a cheque upon. your banker for the amount: if you have placed it out at
interest, give me security."
    "I must observe to you that the whole proceeding is
most irregular," said Mr. Greenwood: "and the business requires
mature reflection. Moreover, all my funds are locked up for the moment."
    "Then how would you carry out the enterprise for which
I embarked my capital? demanded the count.
    "You must be aware," replied the financier,
"that capitalists - like me - always lay out their cash to the greatest
advantage, and make use of bills and negotiable paper of various descriptions.
Thus, I could build a dozen steam-packets in a few weeks, and pay for them all
without actually encroaching upon my capital!"
    "I understand you, sir," said the count: "and
in order to meet your convenience, I am ready to receive the securities you
mention, payable at early dates, instead of specie."
    "Oh! well - that alters the question," cried Mr.
Greenwood, an idea apparently striking him at that moment. " I am
acquainted with one of the richest bankers in London - intimately acquainted
with him :- would you have any objection for him to take my place in respect to
you, and become the holder of your capital -say for a period of six
months?"
    "Who is the banker?" asked the count.
    "James Tomlinson," answered the financier.
    "I know the name well. Are you serious in your
proposal?"
    "Call upon me to-morrow at twelve o'clock, and we will
proceed together to Mr. Tomlinson's banking house in the city. I will have the
whole affair arranged for you in the course of an hour after our arrival at his
establishment."
    "I rely upon your word, Mr. Greenwood," returned
the count.
    The financier then took his departure.

CHAPTER LIV

THE BANKER

THE native of London is as proud of the City as if it were his own
property. He can afford to be called a cockney for having been born within the
sound of Bow bells, for there are merchant-princes, and the peers and
monopolists of the commerce of the world, who bear the nickname as well as he.
     And well may the Londoner be proud of his city in numerous respects. It is
the richest and the most powerful that the world has ever seen! The dingy back
parlours in Lombard Street, the upstairs business rooms in Cheapside, and the
warehouses with shutters half up the windows in Wood Street and its neighbourhood,
are the mysterious places in which the springs of the finance and trade of a
mighty empire are set in motion? Half a dozen men in the City can command in an
hour more wealth than either Rome or Babylon had to boast of at the respective
periods of their greatest prosperity. And neither Rome nor Babylon possessed
drapers who cleared their fifty thousand a- year by selling gowns and shawls,
nor sugar-bakers with a million in hard cash, nor grocers with a plum in each
hand, nor brewers to whom the rise or fall of one halfpenny per pot in the
price of beer makes a difference of forty thousand pounds
 
per annum
! Rome, Babylon, Thebes, and Carthage, could all have been
purchased by the East India Company - with perhaps a mortgage upon the India
Docks!
    But the reader must not imagine that all which glitters is
gold. Amongst the most splendid establishments in London, and those most
wealthy in appearance, there are some in a hopeless state of insolvency. To one
of these we shall now introduce those who may choose to accompany us thither.
    The well-known banking-house of James Tomlinson was situated
in Lombard Street. The establishment was not extensive; nor were there a great
many clerks, because it did little agency business for country banks, but was chiefly
a house of deposit. It enjoyed a high reputation, and was considered as safe as
the presumed wealthy integrity, and experience of its proprietor were likely to
render it. It was moreover believed that the father of James Tomlinson was
a sleeping partner; and as the old gentleman had retired from the business of
oilman with an immense fortune, the bank was presumed to possess every
guarantee of stability. It had existed for upwards of sixty years, having been
founded and most successfully carried on by an uncle of James Tomlinson. James
himself had originally entered the establishment as a clerk, whence be rose to
be a partner, and finally found himself at the head of the concern at his
uncle's death.
    James Tomlinson was not an extravagant man; but he was not
possessed of the ability and experience for which the world gave him credit. In
the year 1826, and at the age of forty, he found himself at the head of a
flourishing and respectable establishment. He was indeed the sole proprietor,
for his father was in reality totally unconnected with it as a partner. James
was intimately acquainted with the mechanical routine of the bank business; but
he was deficient in those powers of combination and faculties of foresight
which were necessary to enable him to lay out to the best advantage the moneys
deposited in his hands. With good intentions, he lacked talent. He was an
excellent head clerk or junior partner; but he was totally unfitted for supreme
management. Thus was it that in two or three years he experienced serious
reverses; and, although he carefully concealed the failure of his operations
from all human eyes, the very safety of his establishment was seriously
compromised. The French Revolution of 1830 ruined a Paris house to which
Tomlinson had advanced a considerable sum; and this blow consummated the
insolvency of his bank.
    He was then compelled to make a confidant of his cashier, an
old and faithful servant of his uncle, and of frugal habits, and kind but
eccentric disposition. Michael Martin was this individual's name. He was of
very repulsive appearance, stooping in his gait, blear-eyed, and dirty in
person. He took vast quantities of snuff; but as much lodged upon his
shirt-frill and waistcoat as was thrust up his nose. Thus his linen was invariably
filthy in the extreme. His dress was a suit of seedy black; and the right thigh
of his trousers was brown and grimy with the marks of snuff - for upon that
part of his attire did he invariably wipe his finger and thumb after taking a
pinch of his brown rappee.
    Such was the individual whom Tomlinson took into his
confidence, when the affairs of the bank grew desperate. Old Martin was as
close and reserved as if he were both deaf and dumb; and he was moreover
possessed of a peculiar craftiness and cunning which admirably fitted him for
the part that he was now to enact. Although it was next to impossible to
retrieve the affairs of the bank, so great was the deficiency, still Michael
Martin assured his master that it was quite probable that they might be enabled
to carry on the establishment for a length of time - perhaps even many years,
the chances that the draughts upon the bank would not equal the deposits being
in their favour.
    Thus was this insolvent and ruined establishment carried on,
with seeming respectability and success, by the perseverance of Tomlinson, and
the skill and craft of old Martin.
    We shall now introduce our readers into the parlour of the
bank, at ten o'clock in the morning after the incidents related in the
preceding chapter.
    James Tomlinson had just arrived, and was standing before
the fire, glancing over the City Article of
 
The Times
. He was a fine, tall,
good-looking man, plainly dressed, and without the slightest affectation either
in manner or attire. The bluntness and apparent straightforwardness of his
character had won and secured him many friends amongst a class of men who
regard frankness of disposition and plainness of demeanour as qualities
indicative of solidity of position and regular habits of business. Then he was
always at his post - always to be seen; and hence unlimited confidence was
placed in him!
    Having glanced over the newspaper which he held in his hand,
he rang the bell. A clerk responded to the summons.
    "Is Mr. Martin come yet?"
    "Yes, sir."
    "Tell him to step this way."
    The clerk withdrew; and the old cashier entered the room,
the door of which he carefully closed. "Good morning, Michael," said
the banker. "What news?"
    "Worse and worse," answered the old man, with a
species of savage grunt. "We have had a sad time of it for the last three
months."
    "For the last seven or eight years, you may say,"
observed Tomlinson, with a sigh; and then his countenance suddenly wore an
expression of ineffable despair - as evanescent as it was poignant 
    "At first the work was easy enough," said Michael:
"a little combination and tact enabled us to struggle on; but latterly the
concern has fallen into so desperate a condition, that I really fear when I
come in the morning that it will never last through the day."
    "My God! my God! what a life!" exclaimed
Tomlinson. "And there are hundreds and thousands who pass up the street
every day, and who say within themselves. '
How I wish I was James Tomlinson!
' Heavens!
I would that I were a beggar in the street - a sweeper of a crossing  -a
pauper in a workhouse —"
    "Come - this is folly," interrupted the old
cashier, impatiently. "We must go on to the end."
    "What is the state of your book this morning?"
demanded the banker, putting the question with evident alarm - almost amounting
to horror.
    "Three thousand four hundred pounds, eighteen
shillings, in specie - sixteen hundred and thirty-five in notes," answered
the cashier.
    "Is that all!" ejaculated Tomlinson. "And
this morning we have to pay Greenwood the two thousand pounds he lent me six
weeks ago."
    "We can't part with the money," said the cashier
rudely. "Greenwood knows the circumstances of the bank, and must give
time."
    "You know what Greenwood is, Michael," exclaimed
the banker. " If we are not punctual with him, he will never lend us
another shilling and what should we have done without him on several
occasions?"
    "I know all that. But look at the interest he makes you
pay," muttered the cashier.
    "And look at the risk he runs," added the banker.
    "He finds it worth his while. I calculated the other
day that we paid him three thousand pounds last year for interest only: we
can't go on much longer at that rate."
    "I had almost said that the sooner it ends the
better," cried Tomlinson. "What low trickery - what meanness - what
abominable craft, have we been compelled to resort to! Oh! if that affair with
the Treasury three years ago had only turned up well - if we could have secured
the operation, we should have retrieved all our losses, enormous as they are -
we should have built up the fortunes of the establishment upon a more solid
foundation than ever!"
    "That was indeed a misfortune," observed the
cashier, taking a huge pinch of snuff.
    "And how the Chancellor of the Exchequer obtained his
information about me - at the eleventh hour - after all previous inquiries were
known to be satisfactory," continued Tomlinson, "I never could
conjecture. At that time the secret was confined to you and me, and my father,
to whom I communicated it, you remember, in that letter which I wrote to him
soliciting the fifty thousand pounds."
    "Which sum saved the bank at that period,"
observed Michael.
    "Never shall I forget the day when I called at the
Treasury for the decision of the government relative to my proposal,"
returned Tomlinson. "The functionary who received me, said in so pointed a
manner, '
Mr. Tomlinson, you have not dealt candidly with us relative to your
true position; your secret is known to us; but rest assured that, although we
decline any negotiation with you, we will not betray you
.' This
announcement came upon me like a thunder-stroke: I was literally paralysed. The
functionary added with a sort of triumphant and yet mysterious smile, '
There
is not a secret connected with the true position of any individual of any
consequence in the City which escapes our knowledge. The government, sir, is
omniscient!
' God alone can divine the sources of this intimate acquaintance
with things locked up, as it were, in one's own bosom!" added the banker,
thoughtfully.
    "And this is not the only case in which such secrets
have been discovered by the government," said the old cashier, again
regaling his nose with a copious pinch of snuff.
    "Yes, I myself have heard of other instances,"
observed the banker, with a shudder. "I have known great firms expend
large sums of money to obtain particular information from Paris, Frankfort, and
Madrid, by means of couriers; and this information has been despatched by letter
to their agents at Liverpool and Manchester, and elsewhere, to answer certain
commercial or financial purposes. Well, that information has been known to
government within a few hours, and the government broker has bought or sold
stock accordingly!"
    "But how could the government obtain that
information?" demanded Martin. "Some treachery —"
    "No - impossible! The government has gleaned its
knowledge when every human precaution against treachery and fraud was adopted.
Look at my own case! " continued Tomlinson. " You, my father, and
myself alone, knew my secret. On you I can reckon as a man can reckon upon his
own self: my father was incapable of betraying me; and I of course should not
have divulged my own ruin. And yet the secret became known to the government. I
shudder, Michael - oh! I shudder when I think that we dwell in a country which
vaunts its freedom, yet where there exists the secret, dark, and mysterious
element of the most hideous despotism!"
    At this moment a clerk entered, and informed the cashier
that he was wanted in the public office.
    As soon as Michael had disappeared, the banker walked up and
down his parlour, a prey to the most maddening reflections. There were but five
thousand pounds left in the safe; two thousand were to be paid to Greenwood;
and every minute a cheque, or two or three cheques might be presented, which
would crush the bank at one blow.
    "One hundred and eighty thousand pounds of
liability," murmured Tomlinson to himself, "and five thousand pounds
to meet it!"
    Ah! little thought those who passed by the banking-house at
that moment, what heart-felt, horrible tortures were endured by the master of
the establishment in his own parlour!
    At length Martin returned.
    His countenance never revealed any emotions; but he took
snuff wholesale-  and that was a fearful omen.
    "Well?" said Tomlinson, in a hoarse and hollow
voice.
    "Alderman Phipps just drawn for twelve hundred pounds,
and Colonel Brown for eight hundred," replied the cashier.
    "Two thousand gone in a minute!" ejaculated the
banker.
    "Shall I pay any more?" asked the cashier.
    "Yes - pay, pay up to the last farthing!" answered
Tomlinson. "An accident - a chance may save us, as oftentimes before! And
yet methinks, Michael, that we never stood so near the verge of ruin as we do
to-day."
    "Never," said the old man coldly.
    "And is there no expedient by which we can raise a few
thousands, or even a few hundreds, for immediate wants?"
    "None that I know of," returned Martin, taking
more snuff.
    At that moment Mr. Greenwood was announced, and Michael
withdrew from the parlour.
    "You have called for your two thousand pounds?"
said the banker, after the usual interchange of civilities.
    "Yes: I require that sum particularly this morning,
replied the financier: "for I am pledged to
 
pay fifteen thousand at twelve
o'clock to Count Alteroni."
    "This is very unfortunate," observed Tomlinson.
"I am literally in this position - take the money, and I must stop payment
the next moment."
    "That is disagreeable, no doubt," said Greenwood;
"but the count is urgent, and I cannot put him off."
    "My God!" cried Tomlinson; "what can I do?
Greenwood - my good friend - I know you are rich - I know you can raise any
amount you choose: pray do not push me this morning."
    "What am I to do, my dear fellow?" said the
financier: "I must satisfy this count - and I really cannot manage without
the two thousand. I could let you have them again in a fortnight."
    "A fortnight!" ejaculated the banker, clenching
his fists;  "to-morrow it might be too late. Can you suggest no plan?
can you devise no scheme?"
    "Let me keep these two thousand pounds for six weeks
longer-  a month longer; and ask me - ask me what you will! I am desperate
- I will do anything you bid me!"
    "Tell me how I can satisfy this ravenous Italian,"
said Greenwood, "and I will let you keep the money for six months."
    "You say you have to settle with this count for fifteen
thousand pounds?" inquired the banker. 
    Greenwood nodded an affirmative.
    "And does he require it all in hard cash?"
    "No-he will take the security of any responsible
person, or apparently responsible person," added the financier, with a
significant smile, "payable in six months."
    Tomlinson appeared to reflect profoundly. 
    His reverie was interrupted by the entrance of old Martin,
taking snuff more vehemently than ever.
    The cashier whispered something in the banker's ear, and
then again retired.
    "Seven hundred and fifty more gone!" cried
Tomlinson; "and now, Greenwood, there remains in the safe but a fraction
more than your two thousand pounds. Dictate your own terms!"
    This was precisely the point to which the financier was
anxious to arrive.
    "Listen," he said, "playing with his
watch-chain. "This Count Alteroni will accept of you as his debtor instead
of me. Take the responsibility off me on to your own shoulders, and I make you
a present of the two thousand pounds!"
    "What!" ejaculated Tomlinson; "incur a liability
of fifteen thousand to this count! Greenwood, you never can be serious?"
    "I never was more serious in my life," returned
the financier coolly. "If you fail before the six months have elapsed,
fifteen thousand more or less on your books will be nothing: if you contrive to
carry on the establishment until the expiration of that period, I will help you
out of the dilemma."
    "You are not reasonable - you are anxious to crush me
at once!" cried Tomlinson. "Well, be it so, Mr. Greenwood! Take your
two thousand pounds —"
    "And leave you to put up a notice on your doors -
eh?" said Greenwood, still playing with his watch-chain.
   "Ah! my God - has it come to this? " exclaimed the
banker. "Ruin - disgrace - and beggary, all in one day! But better that
than submit to such terms as those which you dictate."
    With these words he rang the bell violently.
    Old Martin immediately made his appearance.
    "Mr. Martin," said Tomlinson, affecting a calmness
which he was far from feeling, "bring two thousand pounds for Mr.
Greenwood."
    "It can't be done," growled Michael, taking a huge
pinch of snuff.
    "Can't be done?" ejaculated the banker.
    "No," answered the old man, doggedly: "just
paid away four hundred and sixty-five more. There isn't two thousand in the
safe."
    Tomlinson walked once up the room; then, turning to
Greenwood, he said, " I will accept your proposal. Mr. Martin," he
added, addressing the cashier, "you can retire: I will settle this matter
with Mr. Greenwood."
    The old man withdrew.
    "When, where, and how is this business to be
arranged?" demanded Tomlinson, after a short pause.
    "The count is to call at my house at twelve. I have
left a note to request him to come on hither."
    "You had, then, already arranged this matter in your
mind?" said the banker, ironically.
    "Certainly," answered Greenwood, with his usual
coolness. "I knew you would relieve me of this obligation; because I shall
be enabled in return to afford you that assistance of which you stand so much in
need."
    "I must throw myself upon your generosity," said
Tomlinson, "It is now twelve: the count will soon be here."
    Half an hour passed away; and the Italian nobleman made his
appearance.
    "You see that I have kept my word, count, exclaimed Mr.
Greenwood, with an ironical smile of triumph. "Mr. Tomlinson holds in his
hands certain funds of mine, which, according to the terms of agreement between
us, he is to retain in his possession and use for a period of six months and
six days from the present day, at an interest of four per cent. If you, Count
Alteroni, be willing to accept a transfer of fifteen thousand pounds of such
funds in Mr. Tomlinson's hands from my name to your own, the bargain can be
completed this moment."
    "I cannot hesitate, Mr. Greenwood," said the
count, "to accept a guarantee of such known stability as the name of Mr.
Tomlinson."
    "Then all that remains to be done," exclaimed the
financier, "is for you to return me my acknowledgment for the amount
specified, and for Mr. Tomlinson to give you his in its place. Mr. Tomlinson
has already received my written authority for the transfer."
    The business was settled as Mr. Greenwood proposed. The
count returned the financier his receipt, and accepted one from the banker.
    "Now, that this is concluded," count, said Mr.
Greenwood, placing the receipt in his pocket-book, "I hope that our
friendship will continue uninterrupted."
    "Pardon me, sir," returned the count, his features
assuming a stern expression: "although I am bound to admit that you have
not wronged me in respect to money, you have dared to talk to me of my
daughter, who is innocence and purity itself."
    "Count Alteroni," began Mr. Greenwood, "I am
not aware —"
    "Silence, sir!" cried the Italian noble, imperatively:
"I have but one word more to say. Circumstances have revealed to me your
profligate character; and never can I be too thankful that my daughter should
have escaped an alliance with a man who bribes his agents to administer opiate
drugs to an unprotected female for the vilest of purposes. Mr. Tomlinson,"
added the count, "pardon me for

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