CHAPTER IV.
AT KEMMS PARK.
Lord Kemms’ attention “having,” at length, “been called” (this was the gist of a letter his Lordship wrote to the Times) to the fact of his name appearing in the list of directors of the “Protector Bread and Flour Company, Limited,” begged to state, not merely that he had given no authority for such use of his name, but that, when applied to for permission by the promoter, Mr. Peter Black, he had, in the most unequivocal terms, refused to have anything whatever to do either with the “Protector” or any other company. His Lordship added, that “having failed to obtain a satisfactory explanation of the circumstances under which his name was placed upon the Direction, either from the secretary of the Company or Mr. Black, he trusted the Editor of the Times would insert his letter, and thus give him (Lord Kemms) an opportunity of setting himself right with the general public.”
This letter was written after a somewhat stormy interview with Arthur Dudley and Mr. Black, and despatched to the Times’ office hours before Mr. Stewart’s arrival in town. When that gentleman, after touching en route at the offices in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, did reach Lord Kemms’ town house, he was informed his Lordship had left for Kemms Park by the 5.8 express.
On receiving this intelligence, Mr. Stewart and his nephew drove straight to King’s Cross, where they caught the 7.15 to Palinsbridge, from which place they proceeded in a fly, procured at the Plough Hotel, to Kemms’ Park.
Arrived there, between ten and eleven o’clock at night, Mr. Stewart bade the driver wait; and then, following the butler, who stared to see visitors at such an hour, was ushered into the drawing-room, where were seated Miss Augusta Baldwin, Lord Kemms, and Mr. Compton Raidsford.
“If I were inclined to quote Mr. Black,” remarked Mr. Stewart, after exchanging greetings with his relations, “I should say, here we drop upon the conspirators. Now, Frank, what is all this about you and our Company? Nice dance you have led me over it! Why could you not have stopped in town till you had seen some of us, as any other human being would, I think, excepting yourself?”
“Mr. Raidsford had kindly promised to dine with me to-day.”
“Very good of Mr. Raidsford,” answered Mr. Stewart, with a look towards that gentleman, which seemed to say “I know all about it;” “and I suppose you and Mr. Raidsford have been settling our concerns for us over your claret. We stand at opposite poles,” he added, addressing the contractor; “there can be no doubt but that in some previous state of existence you were bitten by a company, and have had a kind of hydrophobic horror of Limited Liability ever since. Now, Frank, tell me all your grievances; what is this about your good name being taken from you?”
“It has been used without my authority,” answered his Lordship. “I told Mr. Black distinctly I would have nothing to do with his venture, and after that he coolly went and put my name on the Direction.”
“He quite understood, I think; that you had given your consent?”
“I beg your pardon: the last interview I ever had with Mr. Black, until to-day, was at Berrie Down, and I then told him nothing should induce me to lend my countenance to any undertaking of the kind.”
“It was a pity Mr. Black did not take you at your word, Frank,” said Mr. Douglas Croft; “we could have done without you.”
“You will have to do without me now,” retorted Lord Kemms. “I have written to the Times to say that my name was used without my authority.”
“You are confoundedly touchy about your name, if Miss Baldwin will excuse my saying so,” observed Mr. Stewart; which remark Miss Baldwin apparently took as a hint that the presence of ladies was undesired, for she rose and left the room, stating, with a gracious smile to Mr. Stewart, that she would not remain, and so prevent his saying whatever he liked. “I consider Frank has been very hasty,” she added, glancing defiantly in the direction where Mr. Raidsford sat; “but I profess to know nothing of business.”
“Then I wish, aunt, you would not interfere in mine,” answered Lord Kemms; “and, as for my name,” he went on, addressing Mr. Stewart, “how should you like yours to be put on any board of direction without your authority?”
“I should not like it at all,” replied his visitor; “but still I should not think it necessary to go perfectly insane on the subject, as you appear to have done. Dudley tells me you stormed at Mr. Black to-day like a woman; that you would not listen to a word of explanation; and that you dashed out of the office without giving either of them an opportunity of even attempting to arrange the matter with you.”
“Because Black had the audacity to tell me I did give him permission, and adhered to the statement. He first insinuated I was trying to back out of the affair, and then wished to know if some pecuniary compromise could not be effected. The insolent vagabond coolly told me, ‘that was always the way with gentlemen,—that a merchant’s word was as good as his bond, but that, unless you had everything with a swell (the expression he used) in black and white, there was no dependence to be placed upon how matters might turn out.’”
“Very foolish of Black to make such a speech,” Mr. Stewart commented. “You must have put up his temper by some means, Frank.”
“I made him confess he was a liar,” said Lord Kemms.
“My dear fellow, how very vehement you are!” expostulated his kinsman; “you could not express your meaning more strongly if you were a costermonger!”
“I do not see why I should not employ the only word which thoroughly expresses my meaning, even though it be used by a costermonger also. Mr. Black stated that I allowed my name to be put on the Direction. I asked him when? He declared at the time we were staying at Berrie Down. I reminded him, that the last occasion on which we met in Hertfordshire was one day I called at the Hollow, when I told him, in Mr. Dudley’s presence, I would have nothing to do with the Company. Then he said, he had made a mistake—it was when he saw me at my house in London. I told him he had never seen me at my house in London—that, at the time he inquired there for me, I was in Paris. Then he declared it must have been at Palinsbridge station; at any rate, he knew I had promised to let him have my name, and that it was too absurd for me, after having seen myself advertised for twelve months, to try to repudiate connection with the ‘Protector’ now.”
“And he was quite right there,” observed Mr. Stewart.
“I regret to differ from you,” here put in Mr. Raidsford; “but I cannot agree with that opinion.”
Mr. Stewart looked over at the speaker with an expression which seemed to say, that it was a matter of supreme indifference to him whether Mr. Raidsford agreed or not, but still he condescended to explain that “Lord Kemms had suffered judgment to go by default.”
“Mr. Black’s very remark!” said Lord Kemms. “He drew his shoulders up to his ears, and stuffed his hands under the waistband of his trousers——”
“Really, Frank, you are needlessly descriptive,” expostulated Mr. Stewart.
“And said,” proceeded Lord Kemms, unheeding the interruption, “you know, my Lord, it is of no sort of manner of use your kicking up an infernal row about the matter now. You have suffered judgment to go by default; and whether you intended your name to be on our board or not, cannot make any difference at this time of day; so you had better let us come to some arrangement. Speaking on behalf of the other directors, I am certain the Company will do what it can to meet your views.”
“Could a man have spoken any fairer than that?” inquired Mr. Stewart.
“Fairer! I never heard anything so perfectly cool and impertinent in my life!” exclaimed Lord Kemms. “First, to use my name, and then dare to say, ‘I need not try to set myself right with the public!’”
“What do you suppose the public cares about the affair?” asked Mr. Croft. “To whom, do you imagine, it signifies in the least whether your name is on the Direction or not?”
“It signifies to me,” replied his Lordship.
“Why?” demanded Mr. Stewart.
“Because I do not choose to be mixed up with speculations of the kind; because I refused to be associated with your Company; because I won’t be overreached in this way; because other names may have been used in the same manner, and it is time promoters were taught such liberties cannot be taken with impunity.”
“Our Company is a good one—paying very good dividends, and you have risked no money in it,” suggested Mr. Croft.
“Your Company may be a good one, or it may not,” replied Lord Kemms; “but, good or bad, I won’t be mixed up with it. I will have nothing to do with adventures or speculations of any kind.”
“It is a pity you were not always so particular concerning the things you connected yourself with, Frank,” remarked his cousin.
“Let by-gones be by-gones, Douglas,” interposed Mr. Stewart, hastily; “because a man sees the folly of his ways now, there is no justice in twitting him with having been less far-sighted formerly. No doubt, Frank is right as to the general principle; but this is rather a special case, with some peculiarities about it, which he will, doubtless, take into consideration. In the first place,” he added, addressing Lord Kemms, “we will admit there has been some misunderstanding on the subject——”
“No,” was the reply, “I will admit nothing of the kind. Black understood me perfectly——”
“Well, granting that he did understand you, what particular harm has his use of your name done? It is associated not with obscure Cockneys or swindlers, but with decently-respectable, solvent men, like Douglas and myself, for example. Of course, we know, we are not lords; but still, we have a fancy we are honest, and possess some money. Our venture is turning out very well. No doubt the proper number of shares has been allotted to you. You take no responsibility—you run no risk; by making a fuss over the affair, you will do yourself no good, and may do us considerable harm. You will take time to think over the matter, and you will, when you have cooled down a little, decide to make no public scandal concerning the affair.”
“I have already written to the Times,” answered his Lordship.
“But not posted the letter, I hope. Bring it here, Frank, and we will smoke a calumet of peace over its ashes.”
“Impossible! I sent it to the Times’ office before I left London.”
“If we had known that, we might have saved ourselves this agreeable journey,” said Mr. Croft; while Mr. Stewart observed:
“Well, Frank, all I can say is, I am very sorry; for now we shall have to fight you as best we can. Once in the Times, it is war to the death, you know.”
“It was not I who sought the war,” answered Lord Kemms.
“After waiting nearly twelve months, you might surely have waited another day.”
“It was only yesterday I knew anything about the matter. I happened to be over at the Hollow with my aunt, and on the drawing-room table I saw one of the ‘Protector’ prospectuses. Glancing at it, I knew for the first time the use Black had made of my name.”
“It is singular your friend, Mr. Raidsford, did not communicate the fact to you before,” observed Mr. Stewart, with a slight sneer.
“There has been a coolness between me and Lord Kemms for some time past,” interposed Mr. Raidsford, “originating in this very affair. Lord Kemms assured me he would have nothing to do with your Company; and when, after that assurance, I saw his name amongst the directors, I confess I felt both surprised and nettled.”
“And pray, sir, if the question be not indiscreet, what interest was it of yours whether Lord Kemms became a director of our Company or not?”
“It was no personal interest of mine,” answered the contractor; “but believing, as I do, such companies to be the curse of commerce—the very death of legitimate trade—when I am asked for my poor opinion, I do not hesitate about expressing it.”
“You consider capital, then, which employs labour, which builds bridges, constructs railways, digs canals, sends out vessels, the death of legitimate trade?” inquired Mr. Stewart.
“Capital, no,” was the reply; “companies, yes—at least, limited liability companies.”
“And yet the idea of the man who brought in, and the majority which passed, the Limited Liability Act, was, that, so far from killing trade, it would foster and encourage commerce.”
“So we may conclude, or else it would never have become law,” was the reply.
“Trade has always been crippled for want of capital,” remarked Mr. Croft.
“And trade always will be,” answered Mr. Raidsford; “it is in the nature of trade to find whatever capital it may have insufficient. In precise proportion to the extent of his business are a man’s outstanding debts; consequently, the larger his business is, the greater are the number of his debtors. His capital, in fact, goes into his books; and instead of so much in the bank, he has so many hundreds of people owing him money.”
“The idea of limited liability was to enable a man to put a certain sum of money into a business, and have no further responsibility,” said Mr. Stewart.
“Any man could have compassed the same object by lending money into a business,” replied Mr. Raidsford; “since the usury laws were repealed, he might have taken what percentage he pleased, and run no more risk than he does under the Limited Liability Act; but the real mischief of the present system, to my mind, is, not that large capitalists are thereby enabled to advance money to small working men, but that the large capitalists are thereby enabled to combine together, and crush the small working men. Precisely as you are doing at present: you are ruining hundreds of respectable tradesmen, and when your crash comes, as come it will, those men will not be benefited thereby; they have lost their capital, small or great, as the case may be, and must content themselves with situations for the remainder of their lives.”
“You are extremely kind to prophesy such a pleasant future for the Protector,” said Mr. Croft.
“Where there are many masters, there are bad servants,” was the reply; “at least, such is my opinion. My notion is, indeed, that in a company there is no master at all; there is no one person whose business and interest it is to see that things are properly and economically conducted.”
“We have our manager,” suggested Mr. Stewart.
“You have an admirably efficient manager at your works now, I do not doubt,” said Mr. Raidsford.
“What do you mean by that remark?” asked Mr. Stewart.
“Simply, that I should not give Mr. Crossenham sixpence a week for managing any concern of mine; but, without question, he is perfectly competent to fill the position he occupies with you.”
“Once again, Mr. Raidsford, I must ask you to explain your meaning?”
“Then, Mr. Stewart, you certainly will ask in vain,” was the reply. “When, eight months since, we met in Moorgate Street, you did me the honour of asking my opinion about this Company,—and I gave you that opinion to the best of my ability,—what was your course of action? You certainly got rid of Bayley Crossenham, but you put in his shoes a man utterly incompetent to manage even his own business, how much less yours; a man, who, though perfectly honest himself, could never detect dishonesty in others. I asked you then, if Lord Kemms’ name had been really added to the Direction by his authority? and it is now evident you took no steps to ascertain the truth of the matter. I counselled you to be exceedingly wary in dealing with Mr. Black, and yet Mr. Black is now virtually master of the ‘Protector,’ as he is of every other company with which he is connected.”
“He is not master of the ‘Protector,’” answered Mr. Stewart.
“He must be master of its funds, or he never could have such an amount of money to spend, as is the case at present,” was the reply.
“He is no such thing,” repeated Mr. Stewart.
“I am happy to hear it, for the sake of the shareholders,” answered Mr. Raidsford, coolly; “and that brings me to another phase of limited liability, viz., that this boasted union of capitalists, of which we hear so much, is, in many cases, neither more nor less than the accumulation of five and ten pounds scraped from the savings of the lower middle class; the money of people who, deluded by specious advertisements and good names, send up their post-office orders and receive their shares, and lose their cash, and thereby afford a living to a class of men who otherwise would be exercising their talents in some very different mode indeed from that of ‘promoting’ public companies.”
“What a pity you do not go into Parliament, and favour the nation with an exposition of your views!” said Mr. Stewart.
“I should not be the first man to advance them,” was the reply. “In both Houses somewhat similar opinions have been expressed before now; of course, my views may be wrong——”
“You do not mean, Mr. Raidsford, that you have ever contemplated such a possibility?” interrupted Mr. Stewart.
“Yes, I have,” was the reply; “contemplated, much more closely, the pros and cons of limited liability, than you have the Protector’s chances of ultimate success. The system is rotten, Mr. Stewart, and you and such men as you, who derive profit from these ventures without incurring one halfpenny of risk, ought to be the first to confess that it is so.”
“I have two thousand shares in the Protector Bread Company on my own risk, at all events,” said Mr. Stewart.
“I am delighted to hear it, in one way,” answered Mr. Raidsford; “delighted, because it proves you to be a thoroughly honest man; but sorry, because if anything do go wrong with the Company, your loss will be considerable.”
“But I am determined nothing shall go wrong with the Company.”
“In that case, doubtless you devote a considerable amount of attention to the mills!”
“Mr. Raidsford, have you any specific charge to make against our manager?”
“If I had,” was the reply, “I should go before the board and prefer it. I make no charge, but I recommend caution. I was right about Lord Kemms, you perceive.”
“We do not admit that,” broke in Douglas Croft; “we are his opponents now, and must fight the matter out with him.”
“Or, rather, Mr. Black must,” added Mr. Stewart. “He got us into this scrape, and he must get us out of it; so, remember, Frank, you are in for a paper war with one of the shrewdest men I know; you and Mr. Raidsford will have to muster your forces so as to come out of the struggle with éclat. I am sorry it has so happened, I must confess; sorry that Lord Kemms has been—I am obliged to use a harsh word, Mr. Raidsford—so ill-advised. With the best intentions, I feel confident, you have counselled him to hurry into print (a course always to be avoided, if possible), but still, you have led him wrong. Had you left the matter in my hands, Frank,” he added, “I should myself have stated publicly that there had been some misunderstanding, and so withdrawn your name, without any fuss or anger. As it is—why it is—and there is no use in further discussion. We must now do the best we can for ourselves,” and Mr. Stewart rose to depart.
“You are not thinking of going to-night?” exclaimed Lord Kemms, in astonishment; “because we differ in opinion, we are not, I trust, to swear eternal enmity.”
“Not with my good-will,” replied Mr. Stewart; “but because we have differed in opinion, I must get back to town by the first train to-morrow morning. Had your letter to the Times not been despatched I would gladly have remained here, instead of returning to Palinsbridge to-night; but needs must, you know; and you, Frank, are our driver.”
“I am sorry for it, extremely sorry!” exclaimed Lord Kemms.
“Sorry for having appealed to the god of English breakfast-tables?” asked Mr. Stewart. “Come, I am glad to see some signs of repentance about you.”
“I did not mean that; I am not sorry for having written and despatched my letter, I only regret that there should be any necessity for you to drive back to Palinsbridge to-night. But, at least, you will have something to eat before you start?”
“It appears to me we ought not to break bread under your roof,” said his cousin; “but, considering we have had nothing since we left Hastings, ten hours since, except a glass of sherry and seltzer water at Palinsbridge, I think it would be carrying animosity farther than human nature could endure, to refuse your obliging though tardy offer.”
“For my part, I shall be very glad to accept it,” declared Mr. Stewart; “worry always gives me an appetite; and I should not care to be dependent on the good offices of mine landlord at the Plough, for supper. His seltzer water was as hot as though drawn from one of the Geyser springs. And will you let some of your people tell the fellow, who brought us over, to give that poor devil of a horse of his a feed? Nice creature it is; trots about three miles an hour!”
“Will you allow my man to drive you back, Mr. Stewart?” said the contractor. “I shall be very happy if you will make use of my carriage.”
“Thank you, no,” was the reply; “the fly must return, and so Douglas and I may as well go in it. We are not exactly like man and wife, apt to quarrel by the way. If he were my better half, I would accept your offer at once; as it is, we will return as we came—much obliged, nevertheless.”
Then Mr. Raidsford thought he must return home.
“Good-night,” said Mr. Stewart; “though your views differ from mine, I do not say but there is much truth in them. That is the worst of our imperfect state of existence, there is truth in everything.”
“Even in a promoter,” suggested Douglas Croft; and then the three shook hands with Mr. Raidsford, who drove back to Moorlands thinking to himself—
“These great people are very curious individuals. If three men in my own rank of life had come together under such circumstances, there would have been hard words used, and a quarrel to a certainty. Is it that they are not in earnest, or is it civilization? One hears a great deal about civilization; is this one of its fruits?” and thus pondering, Mr. Raidsford returned home to the wife of his bosom, who, back from Hastings, was conducting her household on principles which seemed to the servants the reverse either of Christian or civilized.
Perhaps this fact made the amicable warfare at Kemms Park seem all the more astonishing to the contractor, who had many things still to learn, though he was so clever about business and business matters.
“If that be the way gentlemen quarrel,” he thought, “I cannot wonder at their looking down on us; I wonder now what they are thinking about me?”
Had a little bird of the air carried what the trio were saying about him to Mr. Raidsford, he need not have covered his face and shut his eyes.
“Spite of his crotchets I really like Raidsford,” remarked Mr. Croft. “What do you suppose he meant, uncle, when he spoke about the Company failing?”
“He meant,” answered Mr. Stewart, “what I have often suspected myself,—that Black is too great a rogue to be honest, even if honesty be to his interest. Raidsford is a well-intentioned fellow, but he has not much information outside his business. Still, his ideas are worth consideration, and I shall consider them, and look up Mr. Crossenham,” added Mr. Stewart in a lower tone, as he went downstairs to the dining-room, where a substantial supper was already spread.