Money (Oxford World’s Classics) Page 19

  Saccard for the second time was moved, more even than he had been on the first occasion, when it was the Countess who had entrusted to him her daughter’s dowry. This simple man, this petty capitalist with savings scraped together sou by sou, didn’t he represent the trusting multitude of believers, the great multitude that creates abundant and substantial numbers of customers, the fanatical army that endows a bank with invincible strength? If this good man came running to him like this, ahead of any publicity, what would it be like when the counters were open? He smiled in tenderness at this first little shareholder, seeing him as an omen of great success.

  ‘Agreed, my friend, you shall have your shares.’

  Dejoie’s face lit up as if he had been granted some unhoped-for favour.

  ‘Monsieur is too kind… in six months then, with my four thousand I can gain two thousand, can’t I? And so make up the whole amount… and since I have Monsieur’s consent, I prefer to settle straight away. I’ve brought the money.’

  He felt in his pockets and pulled out an envelope which he offered to Saccard, who stood stock still and silent, struck with delighted admiration at this final touch. And the terrible pirate, who had already creamed off so many fortunes, finally burst into a happy laugh, honestly resolved to make him rich too, this man of faith.

  ‘But my dear chap, that’s not how it’s done. Keep your money, I shall put you on the register and you will pay in due course.’

  This time he saw them out, after Dejoie had got Nathalie to thank him, with a smile of satisfaction lighting up her beautiful, hard and candid eyes.

  When Maxime was finally alone with his father he said, with his insolent and mocking air:

  ‘So now you’re providing dowries for young girls.’

  ‘Why not?’ Saccard answered gaily. ‘Happiness for others is a good investment.’

  He was putting away some papers before leaving the office. Then he suddenly said:

  ‘What about you? Don’t you want some shares?’

  Maxime, who was ambling about, gave a start, wheeled round, and faced him.

  ‘Oh no, what an idea! Do you take me for a fool?’

  Finding this reply lacking in respect and showing a deplorable spirit, Saccard made an angry gesture and was on the point of shouting at him that it was a genuinely splendid deal, and that Maxime was really too stupid if he thought that he was just another thief like so many others. But, looking at him, he felt pity for his poor son, worn out at twenty-five, set in his ways and even miserly, so aged by vice, so anxious about his health, that he wouldn’t risk any expense or self-indulgence unless he had already carefully calculated the benefit. And quite comforted, full of pride in the passionate temerity of his fifty years, he began to laugh again and clapped him on the shoulder.

  ‘Come on! Let’s go and have lunch, my poor boy, and you just take care of your rheumatics.’

  It was two days later, on the fifth of October, that Saccard, accompanied by Hamelin and Daigremont, went to the chambers of Maître Lelorrain, a notary on the Rue Sainte-Anne, and there the deed constituting a public company in the name of the Universal Bank Company was executed, with a capital of twenty five millions, divided into fifty thousand shares of five hundred francs each, only a quarter of which had to be paid on allocation. The offices of the company were registered as the Hôtel d’Orviedo in the Rue Saint-Lazare. A copy of the statutes, drawn up in accordance with the deed, was deposited in the office of Maître Lelorrain. It was a day of bright autumn sunshine, and when these gentlemen left the notary’s office they lit their cigars and slowly strolled back up the boulevard and the Rue de la Chaussée-d’Antin, glad to be alive and happy as schoolboys let out of school.

  The inaugural general meeting did not take place until the following week, in the Rue Blanche, in the premises of a little dance-hall which had gone out of business and in which an industrialist was now trying to set up art exhibitions. The syndicate members had already placed the shares they had taken but weren’t keeping for themselves; and one hundred and twenty-two shareholders came, representing nearly forty thousand shares, which should have given a total of two thousand votes since only holders of twenty or more shares had the right to attend and vote. However, since no single shareholder could cast more than ten votes no matter how many shares he held, the precise number of votes was sixteen hundred and forty-three.

  Saccard insisted that Hamelin should chair the meeting. As for himself, he deliberately melted into the crowd. He had registered the engineer and himself for five hundred shares apiece, which he would pay for by juggling the accounts. All the syndicate members were there: Daigremont, Huret, Sédille, Kolb, and the Marquis de Bohain, each with the group of shareholders under their command. Sabatani, one of the largest shareholders, could also be seen, and Jantrou too, surrounded by several of the bank’s senior clerks, appointed two days before. And all the decisions that had to be made had been so well foreseen and decided in advance that never was an inaugural meeting so beautifully calm, simple, and cooperative. A unanimous vote endorsed the declaration that the capital had been fully subscribed and that one hundred and twenty-five francs had been paid for each share. The company was then solemnly declared to be established. Next the board of directors was appointed: this was to comprise twenty members who, as well as their attendance fees, amounting to an annual total of fifty thousand francs, would receive in accordance with one of the articles in the statutes ten per cent of the profits. This was not to be sneezed at, and every syndicate member had demanded to be on the board; Daigremont, Huret, Sédille, Kolb, and the Marquis de Bohain, in addition to Hamelin, whom they wanted as president, all naturally went to the top of the list, along with fourteen other less important men chosen from the most obedient and ornamental of the shareholders. Finally Saccard, who until then had stayed in the background, made an appearance when the moment arrived for choosing a general manager, and Hamelin then proposed him. A murmur of sympathy greeted his name, and he too was a unanimous choice. It remained only to elect the two official auditors, responsible for presenting the meeting with a report on the balance sheet and for checking the accounts provided by the management, a function as delicate as it was useless, and for which Saccard had designated a certain Rousseau and Lavignière, the former being completely under the thumb of Lavignière, who was tall, fair-haired, very polite, always approving, and consumed with the desire eventually to get on to the board once his services had given satisfaction. With Rousseau and Lavignière appointed, the meeting was about to be closed when the president thought it necessary to mention the ten per cent bonus granted to the syndicate members, four hundred thousand francs in all, and at his suggestion the meeting charged this to the start-up costs. It was a mere trifle, some expense was inevitable; and letting the mass of small shareholders drift away like a flock of sheep, the big investors stayed on to the last, with smiling faces, still exchanging handshakes out on the pavement.

  The very next day the directors met at the Hôtel d’Orviedo, in Saccard’s former drawing-room, now converted into a boardroom. A vast table, covered in green velvet and surrounded by twenty chairs upholstered in the same material, took up the centre of the room; there was no other furniture save two large bookcases, whose glass doors were adorned on the inside with little silk curtains, also in green. The room was darkened by its deep-red hangings, and the three windows looked down on to the garden of the Hôtel Beauvilliers, from which came only a dusky light, like the peace of an old cloister, slumbering in the green shade of its trees. The general effect was both severe and noble, creating an impression of antique honesty.

  The board was meeting to appoint its officers, and they were all there almost at once, on the stroke of four. The Marquis de Bohain, with his great height and small, pale, aristocratic head was the very essence of the old French nobility, while the affable Daigremont personified the wealthy class of the Empire in its ostentatious success. Sédille, looking less worried than usual, was chatting to Kolb about an un
expected movement that had just occurred on the Vienna market; and around them the other directors, the whole crowd, listened in, trying to pick up a tip, or else talked among themselves about their own business, being there only to make up the numbers and collect their share, on the days when there was something to be shared. Huret, as ever, arrived late and out of breath, having got away at the last minute from a parliamentary commission. He apologized and everyone took their seats around the table.

  The Marquis de Bohain, as the most senior figure, had taken the presidential chair, which was higher and more gilded than the rest. As general manager, Saccard had placed himself opposite. And immediately, as soon as the Marquis announced that they were going to proceed to the appointment of the chairman, Hamelin rose to his feet to decline any candidature: he understood that several of the gentlemen had thought of proposing him, but he wished to point out that he was to leave for the Orient the very next day, and besides had no experience whatsoever of accountancy, banks, or stock-markets, and finally that he could not accept the weight of responsibility involved. Saccard listened with great surprise, for only the day before it had all been agreed, and he guessed it was Madame Caroline who had influenced her brother, since he knew they had had a long conversation together that morning. So, not wanting to have anyone else as chairman, some independent person who might get in his way, Saccard decided to intervene, explaining that the office was purely honorific, that the chairman had only to be present at the general meetings, to support the proposals of the board and deliver the customary speeches. Besides, they were going to elect a vice-chairman who would do all the signing. And for the rest, the merely technical part dealing with accountancy, the Bourse, and the myriad little details of a large bank, wouldn’t it be himself, Saccard, who would properly be appointed for this side of things? He, according to the statutes, was to run the offices, deal with income and expenditure, manage the day-to-day business, carry out the decisions of the board, and act, in short, as the executive arm of the company. These arguments seemed sound. Hamelin nevertheless still went on arguing for some time, and both Daigremont and Huret had to insist in the most pressing manner. The Marquis de Bohain remained majestically aloof. At last the engineer gave way; he was appointed chairman, and they chose as vice-chairman an obscure agronomist, the Viscount de Robin-Chagot, a former Counsellor of State, a quiet, miserly man, an excellent machine for providing signatures. As for the secretary, he was taken from outside the board, from the bank’s office staff, the head of the share-issue department. And as night descended upon the large, solemn room, like a greenish shadow of infinite sadness, they decided they had done enough and done it well; then they went their separate ways, after arranging their future sessions at two a month, an ordinary meeting on the fifteenth and a plenary board on the thirtieth.

  Saccard and Hamelin went up together to the workroom, where Madame Caroline was waiting for them. She saw at once from her brother’s awkward manner that he had yet again, through weakness, given way; and for a moment she was very angry.

  ‘But come on, this is unreasonable!’ cried Saccard. ‘Just think, the chairman is paid thirty thousand francs, a sum that will be doubled when our business develops. You’re not so rich that you can scorn such a benefit… And what are you afraid of anyway?’

  ‘Well, I’m afraid of everything,’ replied Madame Caroline. ‘My brother won’t be here, and I personally understand nothing about money… For example, these five hundred shares you’ve registered in his name without his paying for them straight away, well, isn’t that irregular? Wouldn’t he be in trouble if things went wrong?’

  Saccard began to laugh.

  ‘Oh what a fuss about nothing! Five hundred shares, an initial outlay of sixty-two thousand five hundred francs! If he can’t pay that back within six months out of the first profits then we might as well go and jump in the Seine right now, and not bother with any sort of venture… No, you can rest assured, only the inept are destroyed by speculation.’

  She remained stern, in the growing darkness of the room. But two lamps were brought in, casting a bright light over the walls, with the vast maps and vivid watercolours that so often made her dream of those far-off lands. The plain still lay bare, the mountains still barred the horizon, and she called to mind the distress of that ancient world, slumbering over its treasures, a land that science was about to awaken from its filth and ignorance. What fine, great things were waiting to be achieved! Gradually she began to visualize new generations and a stronger, happier humanity springing from the ancient soil, once more beneath the plough of progress.

  ‘Speculation, speculation,’ she repeated mechanically, struggling with doubt. ‘Ah! It fills my troubled heart with anguish.’

  Saccard, who was well acquainted with her thoughts on the subject, had seen on her face the reflection of her hope for the future.

  ‘Yes, speculation, why does the word frighten you?… Speculation is the very spur of life itself, the everlasting desire to struggle and go on living… If I dared to make a comparison, I could convince you…’

  He laughed again, seized by scruples of delicacy. Then he dared after all, always ready to be brutal with women.

  ‘Let’s see now, do you think that without… how shall I put it?—that without lust there would be many children?… Out of every hundred children that might have been, barely one is actually produced. It’s excess that produces what is necessary, isn’t it?’

  ‘Certainly,’ she replied with embarrassment.

  ‘Well, without speculation there would be no business, dear friend… Why the devil do you think I would put out my money and risk my fortune, if I didn’t have the promise of some extraordinary pleasure, some sudden happiness that offers me heaven?… With the lawful and mediocre rewards of work, the prudent balance of day-to-day transactions, life is just a desert of extreme platitude, a swamp in which all energies lie dormant and stagnant; while if you forcefully set a dream ablaze on the horizon, promising that with one sou a hundred will be gained, then invite all those who lie asleep to get up and hunt for the impossible, for millions won in two hours, amid the most frightful dangers—now the race begins at once with ten times the energy, and there is such a scramble that even while sweating solely for their own pleasure, people sometimes manage to produce children, that is, living things, great and splendid things… Ah, my word! There is a lot of useless filth, but the world would end without it.’

  Madame Caroline decided to laugh too; for there was no prudishness about her.

  ‘So,’ she said, ‘your conclusion is that we must resign ourselves to it because it’s all part of nature’s plan… You’re right, life isn’t clean.’

  She had acquired real courage at the thought that every new step forward had been made through blood and mire. You had to have the will for it. She kept her eyes fixed on the maps and drawings all around the walls, and the future took shape for her, ports, canals, roads and railways, the countryside with vast farms equipped like factories, and new towns, full of health and intelligence, where people would live to be very old and very well-educated.

  ‘Oh, all right,’ she continued gaily, ‘I have to give in, as always… Let’s just do some good, so that we can be forgiven.’

  Her brother, who had been keeping quiet, came over and kissed her. She wagged a finger at him.

  ‘Oh! You’re a real coaxer, as I know too well… Tomorrow, when you’ve left us, you won’t be worrying much about what’s happening here; and once you’ve arrived and got stuck into your work everything will be fine, you’ll be dreaming of triumph, while back here everything might be cracking up under our feet.’

  ‘Ah, but’, Saccard exclaimed jokingly, ‘it’s been decided that he’s leaving you here beside me as a constable, ready to nab me if I misbehave!’

  All three burst out laughing.

  ‘And I would nab you too, you can count on it! Remember what you’ve promised, to us of course, and to so many others, dear old Dejoie for instance, whom
I recommended to you… Ah, and our neighbours too, these poor Beauvilliers ladies whom I saw today overseeing the washing of some clothes by their cook, no doubt to reduce their laundry bills.’

  For a moment all three stayed chatting very amicably, and final arrangements were made for Hamelin’s departure.

  As Saccard was going back down to his office his valet told him a woman was insisting on waiting for him, even though he had told her there was a meeting and Monsieur would doubtless be unable to see her. As he was tired Saccard’s first reaction was anger, and he ordered the valet to send her away; then, feeling he owed a debt to his success and fearful of changing his luck if he closed his door, he thought better of it. The flow of callers was growing every day, and this crowd of people was intoxicating.

  The office was lit by a single lamp and he could not see his visitor clearly.

  ‘I’ve been sent by Monsieur Busch, Monsieur…’

  Anger kept Saccard on his feet, and he didn’t ask her to sit down. In that reedy voice, in that impossibly huge body, he had recognized Madame Méchain. Some shareholder this, a woman who bought securities by the pound!

  She calmly explained that Busch had sent her to get information about the share-issue of the Universal Bank. Were any shares still available? Would it be possible to get some, along with the bonus for members of the syndicate? But all that, surely, was just a pretext, a way of getting in to see the house, to find out what was happening here and see how he himself was doing; for her narrow eyes, like holes drilled in the fat of her face, were ferreting about everywhere then turning their gaze back on him, probing him down to his very soul. Busch, after waiting patiently for quite a while, giving the great affair of the abandoned child plenty of time to mature, was now ready to act and had sent her to spy out the land.