The Three Boots

Front matter

THE THREE BOOTS. "OF COURSE, OF COUESE." THE THREE BOOTS. By WILLIAM H. STACPOOLE, Author of "A Strange Prison," " F.P.S.,'' <t<\ LONDON : Dkak and Sox, 100a, Fleet Stiœet, E.C CONTENTS PAGE Chapter I ... ... ... ... 25 Chapter II. ... ... ... ... 33 Chapter III. ... ... ... ... 49 Chapter IV. ... ... .. . . 58 Chapter V. ... ... ... ... 79 Chapter VI. ... ... 93 Chapter VII. ... ... ... 103 Chapter VIII. ... ... ... ... 120 Chapter IX. ... ... ... 131 Chapter X. . ... ... ... 1-16 Chapter XI. .. ... ... ... 101 Chapter XII. ... ... ... ... 171 Chapter XIII. ... ... ... 182 Chapter XIV. ... ... ... ...

Prologue

. " Be not afraid, 'tis but a thrill, A fever fit, and then a chill, And then an end of human ill— For thou art dead." Sir Walter Scott. ERILY, of all forms of gambling Stock- ' CO jobbing is the most delightful and enthralling. It is, what racing has It is, what racing has been falsely called, "The sport of • ?fc* monarchs." The lore of the Turfite seems petty and contemptible compared with that of the Stock dealer. Whether a certain horse will win a certain race or not, depends merely on its own powers, or the will of its rider or keepers, neither of which is of much importance to the community at large, or appeals to any high faculty of the human mind to determine ; in fact, why men should pride themselves on a knowledge of horse-flesh rather than of pig-flesh, I do not very well know, nor, I think, do the multitude who take or lay odds about animals they have never even seen, while fraternizing with grooms and jockeys, — the one royal road to stable secrets — seems, at best, a rather unsavoury means of obtaining exceedingly trustworthy information.

As to cards and billiards, money cannot be won comfortably at them — at least, not in large sums. You have to take it directly from your opponent, who is supposed to be your friend, which is un pleasant, and if you do so often people are apt to think you are rather sharp at the game — or a sharper, as some of them might bluntly and elliptically express it. In the Stock Markets, on the other hand, the public never see their antagonists, while brokers who speculate for themselves have the advantage of being supposed to represent someone else, money passes hands as a matter of business, and not under the hollow pretence of friendly sport. AVith cash or credit, you may win or lose any thing you please, and the Stock Exchange will never give even a grunt of envy or satisfaction. Then, consider the nature of the game.

The cards, so to speak, lie open to everyone, and are such as ought to excite the interest of all intelligent and educated men. They are legibly printed in your morning or evening paper, in the traffic returns of the railways, notices of exports and imports, foreign intelligence, and so forth. You can read and understand, and you know — it is only a matter of arithmetic, as a rule, — what results ought to follow the events of which you read or hear. But only think how gloriously the element of chance enters into the game, and what a zest it gives to it. You speculate, let us suppose, for the " rise " in the shares of some railway, or "bull" them because, having had gooel traffic returns, it seems natural to conclude that they ought to "rise," or improve in value. But, lo ! next morning the weather is wet and foggy, and the shares " fall," or get cheaper, for no better reason than that the jobbers are damp and grumpy ; and then, when, in the afternoon, the markets begin to rally on a burst of sunshine, the news comes in that the Emperor of Zululand has sent an ultimatum to the King of Crim Tartary, where upon away they go, " flat all round," your shares amongst them — though how Zululand and Crim Tartary are to get at each other, or what they or their quarrels have to do with the peaceful agri cultural folk amongst whom your line of railway runs, it is not very easy to see.

Or your "bear," that is speculate for the fall in some stock be cause it is demonstrably worthless — because you prove by the inexorable logic of figures that it cannot possibly be worth anything like the price at which you sell it, and yet, it may very well happen that, just because it is demonstrably Avith out value, the stock will rise, and rise perhaps in such a manner as to ruin you, for the simple reason that a number of other people who also understand figures, have been likewise "bearing," or selling the stock, in the hope of getting it at a cheaper price to deliver to the " bulls " or buyers, and, it being impossible to procure the enormous quantity thus greedily sold, the lot of you are caught in a " bear pit," as it is facetiously termed, i.e., you have to pay anything the "bulls" or buyers may choose to exact for the general recision of contracts which your own voracity has made it impossible for you to execute.

Or you " bull " a stock just before it is tempo rarily forced down by an executor's sale, or "bear" it on the eve of an ephemeral rise, caused by the flutter of some wealthy nin compoop. Or Brums, as London and North- Western Stock are affectionately termed, being bound to rise, you buy, and straightway down thev go, because Messieurs Gould or Vanderbilt has given a garden party in New York, and cabled over to the Bank of England for an odd million or two ; or, being at your wit's end, you buy a " double option," so as to be able to take advantage of either the rise or fall, but only to find that the jobbers, who are as 'cute as you are, have placed the " limits " of the " option " beyond the reach of market variations. Talk of " the glorious uncertainty of cricket, blind hookey, or the vicissitudes of the Turf" — why the fluctuations of the stock markets would deceive the very elect !

And, yet, every change in the price of securities involving, as it very often does, not beggarly hundreds or thousands but millions, is the instantaneous response of that great political, social and commercial weather-glass of the world, the Stock Exchange, to the news that lies, or will in a few minutes lie, before us in our penny or half-penny paper. There you are, gentlemen, make your game, back the opinions you so freely express; you know — all of you — what will be the result of everything that happens — socially, com mercially and politically — so you say, why, then, not make a little money easily and honestly by backing your opinions with hard cash ? Can we wonder at the fascination of the great game in which prizes or blanks are being dealt out momentarily to those who from the living history of the day would anticipate the morrow ?

Or marvel at the spell of its mighty music as it rises in golden peals from the work of the world ? It was nearly half-past four o'clock on the eve of a Stock Exchange settlement towards the end of October, 188 — . Owing partly to some political complications, partly to a sudden rise in the Bank rate, a heavy failure in the City, and a general apprehension of fresh disasters, " the House," as the Stock Exchange is called, was in a state of uproar. Usually, most of its members have departed before that hour, there being no re-admission after four o'clock. On the after noon in question, however, the spacious hall was still crowded with tumultuous groups of men representing the different markets, and the excitement and uproar were appalling. Next morning's " make-up prices," regulating the gains or losses of the " bulls " and " bears " would, probably, be indicated by the figures which were then being shrieked by the surging crowds that filled the House, and so, as everybody was interested in driving the stocks up or down, as the case might be, everybody remained to lend a friendly hand or voice up to the very close of business.

Of all the markets the most violently excited was that in Whiton A.'s, as a portion of the capital of a certain railway is called. These extraordinary shares, which seem to have been created expressly for gambling purposes, are subject to the widest and wildest fluctuations. It would require too much space to explain how, from being very commonplace, steady-going shares, they were transformed one fine day by a fiat of the Directors into the most utterly risky, variable and uncertain of all the securities that are dealt in on the Stock Exchange. The railway itself remained exactly as it was before, but, by simply altering the mode of paying some of the shareholders their dividends, for that is really what it all came to, not to paying them more or Jess, but to paying part of the same amount under one name, and part under another — a new and marvellous stock came into existence, one whose gyrations are of the most absolutely incalculable nature.

In his delightful " Story of the Heavens," Sir Robert Ball speculates about the difficulties which must be experienced by astronomers who inhabit planets that are subject to the attraction of two suns. The problem of the movement of a planet under the influence of two suns, is, he says, one of the most difficult that has ever been proposed to mathematicians. It may safely be said, I think, that a mathematician who could anticipate the movements of Whiton A.'s could solve the problem of the movements of a planet under the influence of fifty suns. The Whiton market was simply like a raging bear garden on the afternoon in question, and when the members came out of the House at half past four, they fell to again in Throgmorton Street, shrieking and bellowing and shaking their fists in each others' faces for more than half-an - hour in the Queen's highway, until, gradually they fell away, one by one, from this " market in the street," as it is called, which may be witnessed on most afternoons, especially in the summer, and returned to their offices.

Amongst those who remained in Throgmorton Street until the meeting dissolved was Henry Enwright. He had been in business as a stock and share broker for more than twenty years, and there was no man on 'Change who was better esteemed than he was. Originally he had been in partnership with his father, a highly popular member of the Stock Exchange, on whose death, some eighteen years previously, he succeeded to a very safe and lucrative business, with a capital of about £ 40, 000. During the first ten or twelve years after his father's death he restricted himself to the legitimate business of a stock broker, which is merely to buy or sell for delivery on commission for other people. Of late years, however, he had begun to open " time-bargains" for some of his clients, on the principle tha*; he might as well have the business as anyone else.

In such cases the speculator merely deposits a sum of money as security or " cover," the arrangement being that he either pays or receives whatever sum is represented by the difference between the market price of the stock when the account is opened and the price when it is closed. Qui facit per alium facit per se, is a maxim that has a moral as well as a legal application. Some of Mr. Enwright's clients made losses that they did not payT, and which he had, of course, to make good himself, thus tempting him to follow the example of others who won as much through a single deal as the whole of his ordinary legiti mate business would return in a twelvemonth. Gradually, from speculating for others, he began to speculate for himself. At first, chiefly to recoup what he lost owing to the default of clients, then, to win back what he lost on his own account, or to win more when he gained ; and, thus, thino-s went on, with now a loss and now a gain, but the losses ever steadily predominating, until, in the November I speak of, being hopelessly in solvent, he sought by one bold and final specu lation to retrieve his shattered fortune.

No sooner, however, had he opened a huge account for the rise in Whiton and Egyptian stocks, principally in the former, then there was a scare about another Franco-German War, the Bank rate went up, syndicates that had ever been formed to hold the stocks threw them on the market like water, and down they came with a run, as the saying is, Whiton, of course, leading the way, ever so many points in two or three days, closing flat at their worst price on the eve of the settlement, leaving Enwright, who latterly had just managed to hide the state of his affairs from the Stock Exchange by over-drawing at his bankers, with a fresh loss of nearly £60,000, for which cash would have to be provided within three days, the alternative being his public de claration in the House as a defaulter. " If it were only five or ten thousand, Somers or Haughton might help me over the account," he thought, as he returned wearily to his offices in Copthall Court.

Somers and Haughton were brother stock brokers, and the liberality of stock-brokers in helping each other out of difficulties is some thing marvellous ; very likely he could have had five or ten thousand pounds by saying that he wanted it for a few days to meet the account. But sixty-thousand was another matter altogether. When he got to his offices, he went into his jjrivate room and sat down, looking blankly and vacantly before him for a few minutes, until a clerk came into the room with some letters that required his signature ; having methodically read and signed them, he said to the clerk : — " I shan't leave for an hour or more, but you and Jones can go now, it is nearly half-past five," looking at his watch, " you have nothing else to do to-night ?" " No, sir. " Very well, shut the outer door as you go out ; good night."

"Good night, sir." And in a few minutes he heard the sound of the door being shut as the clerks left the premises. When Mr. Enwright heard this sound, for which he sat listening, evidently, he went into the outer office and looked about as if to satisfy himself that he was alone ; then he returned to his private room, and, having closed the door and tho shutters, and stirred the fire, began to walk slowly up and down the apartment with his hands clasped behind his back. It was then just half-past five o'clock ; dinner would be ready at his house in Porchester Terrace, Bayswater, at seven. If he went to Moorgate Street and took the Underground Railway to Royal Oak, he would get home by a little after six. There was Sir James Stringfellow — a pompous old fool, he always thought him — who was to dine with him that night, they were to have cod's head and oyster sauce, a haunch of mutton, a ham and capons — so much he remembered from what Mrs. Enwright had said at breakfast.

They would sit down, he at the head of the table, Sir James would take the foot, Mrs. Enwright and Ellen, his only child, m sitting at either side. He took a curious pleasure in imagining all that would be likely to happen — as people sometimes do when they picture themselves doing the most absurd and unlikely things— he fancied himself helping the fish, carv ing the mutton, and sitting; with Sir James over their wine after dinner. Next morning he would come to the office as usual, and gravely have divers accounts made out and despatched to his ■clients ; then, he would go home and dine again, as if nothing particular had occurred, and come back on the second day of the account, " name day" as it is called, to declare which accounts were speculative and wdiich were bona fide. Finally, having dined at home that night and breakfasted next morning, he would come to the -office on " pay day," as the third of the account is called, to tell the clerks who called for -cheques, that he could not give any, and to hear the hammer in the Stock Exchange that after noon, and amid the usual hush, the words " Mr. Henry Enwright is unable to meet his engage ments."

All this Mr. Enwright imagined himself doino-, and laughed softly as he did so ; he pictured, to the minutest incident, every probable scene of the dreary farce, if he played it out till the crash came, and he had to tell his wife and child that they must begin the world again. There was, to be sure, another drama to be performed when they left the house in Bayswater, homeless and penniless, but, instinctively his mind shrank from attempting to raise the curtain that veiled it. Everything seemed vague, uncertain and terrify ing about this afterpiece. It was too horrible to think of. His imagination recoiled from it in dismay, while there was a strange, gruesome fascination in picturing, as he could so easily do, himself, without a shilling he might call his own, masquerading for two clays more, as the opulent master of a flourishing household.

What people think about when they are being sentenced to death, or going down in a ship at sea, has often been a matter of conjecture. Bishop Berkeley nearly hanged himself whilst attempting to analyse the feelings of a man who is standing on a scaffold with a rope round his neck. Very Hkely if they be not absolutely stupefied with terror, the thoughts of such people are generally of a trivial and commonplace character — and con sciously so, for it seems a provision of nature that, in the consideration of unimportant things, the mind should find relief and escape from horrors which it has not strength to contemplate. Thus, for nearly an hour did Mr. Enwright, who never even thought of declaring his true position, keep on pacing up and down the room, imagining all the time scenes in which he was the chief actor, and, yet ever wdth a growing deter mination that they should never happen.

He would not return to his home that night, he would not — could not — prolong the dismal sham any longer. He dare not tell his wife and child the dreadful truth. He could be of no use to them — could give them no help — would only be a worthless encumbrance, whose bare presence would disarm them of sympathy and aid from others. Better end it all now. It was the clean and manly thing to do. There was no longer any place for him in the world. He could cnly live to endure shame, and add to the misery of those he loved. Better end it. Such were the thoughts that gradually gained form and strength in a mind that tried to escape them by conjuring up anticipatory pictures of what would happen during the next two days if he still maintained the pretence of being solvent. Better end it — the phrase came back again and again as the burden of everything.

At last he threw himself into a chair and sat pale and haggard, staring vacantly for some minutes into the fire. When he rose, drops of perspiration stood on his forehead ; making his way, as though he groped for it in darkness, to a desk at the far end of the chamber, he took from it a small phial • a peculiar odour of almonds seemed to pervade the room when he removed the stopper. For a moment he stood trembling ; then, murmuring " poor little Nellie," pressed the mouth of the phial between his lips : and even as it touched his lips one mighty spasm seemed to seize upon his whole frame, and to hurl it at once and lifeless on the floor. Was it the act of a coward, or of a brave man ? We contemn suicide, the ancients glorified it. De mortuis nil nisi bonum. Let us say of every man who has taken his own life, at least this : That he has chosen the one way into death that nature reserves exclusively for man.

Chapter I. Hi Le

Mr. Enwright lay dead on the floor of his office in Copthall Court, Mrs. Enwright and her daughter, Nellie, were sitting with Sir James Stringfellow in the drawing-room of their house in Porchester Terrace, waiting for his return. Dinner was delayed until nearly half-past seven o'clock, and Sir James stayed on afterwards till midnight when he left, assuring his hostess and Nellie, a handsome, fair-haired girl of about twenty-three, that they need not be uneasy, as Mr. Enwright must be at the house of some friend. " You have nothing to fear," he said, as he took his leave. " If there had been an accident we should have heard of it hours ago. No, no, he has gone a station or two out of town, on some business probably. Forgot to send you a messao-e before he started. Can't do so from where he is — that's the explanation of the matter you'll find."

Very different was his muttered soliloquy directlyhe was seatedin a hansom on his way home. " Looks very much as if the fellow has ' bolted,' " he whispered to himself angrily, " the ' settlement ' is on to-morrow. I'm certain he has been speculating on his own account — and, of all things in the wTorld, in Whiton's ! Wanted me to buy them last week. Humph. What a fool I was not to have made him invest the four thousand he got for the Egyptians before this. Serves me right for leaving it in his hands, if I lose it ! However, we shall see to-morrow." They waited up till nearly two o'clock in the morning at Porchester Terrace, that is to say, Mrs. Enwright and Nellie did, for the servants were told to go to bed directly Sir James left the house. Curious it would be sometimes to compare the enigmas of the drawing-room with their plain-spoken solutions in the kitchen.

While the two ladies sat upstairs vainly trying to ease each other's minds by all sorts of fanciful conjectures as to where Mr. Enwright could be, and why he should not have returned, or at least telegraphed, or sent a message of some kind to them, John and Betty iu the kitchen had enunciated the one probable explanation which was not even alluded to by their mistresses. Said John, when twelve o'clock came without his master's return : — - " That's it, you may be sure, the Stock Exchange has bust up. I saw the Evening Standard when I was out, and they say there's bin an awful fall this evening, and that most of the Stock brokers won't be able to pay anybody anything to-morrow. I told you I saw he was looking bad for the last week or more. He'd never have left Sir James to dine that way, without even a message, if he hadn't had to run for it, or worse.

No, we'll never see the master again. I'm sorry for it, for he was a good un, and a gentleman, whatever he's done." Said Betty :— " He never stayed away like this before, and it's odd that he should begin so sudden like, on a night when the stocks is so bad. Poor ladies, it's a black look-out for them if they haven't some money of their own." " The likes of them generally has," said John, " they're sure to have a bit laid by somewhere, wdrere it can't be touched. No, Betty, it's Tues day morning now, and we shan't see the master to-day or to-morrow. Good night." The whole household arose betimes, Mrs. Enwright and Nellie being fully dressed long before the first postman came round in the morning. They sat and watched for him at the drawing-room window, from whence they could see over the wall that screened the court before the house from the street, and when lie passed without calling, poor Nellie broke down at last, and burst into tears, weeping passionately for some minutes, while her mother, who was also in tears, tried to console her by repeating that, " Papa did not write because he will be here in a few minutes."

Had she spoken what she knew to be the truth, and said it was now evident something dreadful had happened, her words would probably have had a bracing effect upon both of them. In moments of dismay and anguish there is a great fortifying power — something that gives off a spirit of confidence — in the presence of one who has courage to look at truth, however dreadful it may be, and to speak it boldly out ; but those who try to shirk the truth, by feigning an assurance they do not feel, merely engender distrust, and a consequent sense of isolation and helplessness. It was necessary to make a pretence of break fasting, to keep up appearances before the servants, so they went downstairs presently, and sat for some time at the table, after which they returned to the drawing-room, and the watch from the window was resumed.

By this time it was getting on to ten o'clock. Something or somebody, telegram or messenger — they hardly dared to think of him — must arrive before long, from the office probably, to end the suspense. Mrs. Enwright would have gone to the City herself, but for the fear of crossing the intelligence on its way. Ten o'clock, half-past ten, eleven o'clock struck ; she was on the point of putting on her cloak and bonnet to go out, when a hansom came rapidly down the road, and drew suddenly up before the house. The bell of the outer door rang. They saw the door jerked open at once by the wire from the kitchen, and Mr. Adams, Mr. Enwright's senior clerk, walked up the gravel path that led to the house, and gave a very subdued knock at the hall door. " Mr. Adams would like to see Mrs. Enwright at once," said John, who came upstairs to the drawing-room immediately afterwards.

" Certainly, show him up, please," the. two ladies exclaimed together, going to the landing to receive him. " Good morning, Mr. Adams,"' they began in the same breath, as he came up the stairs, their voices dying away immediately they saw his face. " I have brought very, very sad news," he said in a low, hushed tone as they entered the drawing-room. "Yes, — "responded Mrs. Enwright, motioning him to a seat, while she and Nellie sat down. " Something, — something has happened." "Something very dreadful indeed," was the answer. He paused for a moment, giving her such a glance as a surgeon might throw upon a patient over whom he stands, knife in hand, ready to make the first sharp, terrible incision ; then continued, "Mr. Enwright was found in his office this morning dead." " Dead !— yes ;— how ?

" The words fell from her in spasmodic whispers, as though the tongue recorded mere incoherent gleams of intelligence. " When the housekeeper went into the offices this morning, she found him lying on the floor of his private room, dead." Mr. Adams paused again, while Mrs. Enwright exclaimed, speaking with greater strength and concentration than before : — "Yes. — But, 0 God! do tell us all, 1 know there is something more. Do let us know the worst 1" O " A prussic acid bottle was found lying on the floor by his side. He had an enormous account open for the rise in Whitons and Egyptians, which have fallen heavily, I fear he died to — to " To escape the sorrow and shame of telling the world and us that he was ruined," Mrs. Enwright interposed, in a voice that sounded firm, though harsh and constrained.

"I am afraid so," said Mr. Adams. " Poor Henrv, God help us," she continued, looking as she spoke at Nellie, who sat gazing blankly at them, with ashey cheeks, and fixed, tearless eyes. Thus did the wife and child learn that as widow and orphan they wrere thrown penniless on the world ; and the simple, direct way in which the intelligence was conveyed by Mr. Adams caused them, I think, less anguish than if he had first lacerated their feelings by what is called " breaking the news."

Chapter II

In the great economy of nature, how little do we know what is really for our good. The text is rather musty, no doubt, but the must comes from without, not from within ; and symbolises, not any weakness in the text itself, but the ages through which it has had the strength to live. Had Mr. Enwright died leaving his wife in affluence, she would very likely have wrapped herself comfortably up in her sorrow, and grieved indefinitely — not having much else to attend to. Had he come back to her without his money, it is also probable she would have mourned pro foundly over "the riches that had taken wings," and, possibly, he might have had reason to appreciate the acuteness of her grief. Death and poverty, however, coming thus together, in a measure, neutralised each other's bitterness. They appealed to different faculties, the one to the imagination, the other to the instinct of self-preservation, and in the dis traction, or rather stupefaction, so produced, there w-as probably far less mental anguish than if either of them had come separately.