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A MAN OF MARK

BY

ANTHONY HOPE

AUTHOR OF "THE PRISONER OF ZENDA," "THE INDISCRETION OF THE DUCHESS,"
ETC.

1895






[Illustration: "_Stop!" I cried; "I shoot the first man who opens the
door_".--P 121]




"A wise man will make more opportunities than he finds,"

--FRANCIS BACON.





CONTENTS.

CHAPTER

I. THE MOVEMENT AND THE MAN
II. A FINANCIAL EXPEDIENT
III. AN EXCESS OF AUTHORITY
IV. OVERTURES FROM THE OPPOSITION
V. I APPRECIATE THE SITUATION
VI. MOURONS POUR LA PATRIE!
VII. THE MINE IS LAID
VIII. JOHNNY CARR IS WILLFUL
IX. A SUPPER PARTY
X. TWO SURPRISES
XI. DIVIDING THE SPOILS
XII. BETWEEN TWO FIRES
XIII. I WORK UPON HUMAN NATURE
XIV. FAREWELL TO AUREATALAND
XV. A DIPLOMATIC ARRANGEMENT






CHAPTER I.

THE MOVEMENT AND THE MAN.


In the year 1884 the Republic of Aureataland was certainly not in a
flourishing condition. Although most happily situated (it lies on
the coast of South America, rather to the north--I mustn't be more
definite), and gifted with an extensive territory, nearly as big as
Yorkshire, it had yet failed to make that material progress which had
been hoped by its founders. It is true that the state was still in its
infancy, being an offshoot from another and larger realm, and having
obtained the boon of freedom and self-government only as recently as
1871, after a series of political convulsions of a violent character,
which may be studied with advantage in the well-known history of "The
Making of Aureataland," by a learned professor of the Jeremiah P.
Jecks University in the United States of America. This profound
historian is, beyond all question, accurate in attributing the chief
share in the national movement to the energy and ability of the
first President of Aureataland, his Excellency, President Marcus
W. Whittingham, a native of Virginia. Having enjoyed a personal
friendship (not, unhappily, extended to public affairs) with that
talented man, as will subsequently appear, I have great pleasure
in publicly indorsing the professor's eulogium. Not only did the
President bring Aureataland into being, but he molded her whole
constitution. "It was his genius" (as the professor observes with
propriety) "which was fired with the idea of creating a truly modern
state, instinct with the progressive spirit of the Anglo-Saxon race.
It was his genius which cast aside the worn-out traditions of European
dominion, and taught his fellow-citizens that they were, if not all by
birth, yet one and all by adoption, the sons of freedom." Any mistakes
in the execution of this fine conception must be set down to the fact
that the President's great powers were rather the happy gift of nature
than the result of culture. To this truth he was himself in no way
blind, and he was accustomed to attribute his want of a liberal
education to the social ruin brought upon his family by the American
Civil War, and to the dislocation thereby produced in his studies. As
the President was, when I had the honor of making his acquaintance
in the year 1880, fifty years old if he was a day, this explanation
hardly agrees with dates, unless it is to be supposed that the
President was still pursuing his education when the war began, being
then of the age of thirty-five, or thereabouts.

Starting under the auspices of such a gifted leader, and imbued with
so noble a zeal for progress, Aureataland was, at the beginning of her
history as a nation, the object of many fond and proud hopes. But in
spite of the blaze of glory in which her sun had risen (to be seen
duly reflected in the professor's work), her prosperity, as I have
said, was not maintained. The country was well suited for agriculture
and grazing, but the population--a very queer mixture of races--was
indolent, and more given to keeping holidays and festivals than
to honest labor. Most of them were unintelligent; those who were
intelligent made their living out of those who weren't, a method of
subsistence satisfactory to the individual, but adding little to the
aggregate of national wealth. Only two classes made fortunes of any
size, Government officials and bar-keepers, and even in their case the
wealth was not great, looked at by an English or American standard.
Production was slack, invention at a standstill, and taxation heavy. I
suppose the President's talents were more adapted to founding a
state in the shock and turmoil of war, than to the dull details of
administration; and although he was nominally assisted by a cabinet of
three ministers and an assembly comprising twenty-five members, it
was on his shoulders that the real work of government fell. On him,
therefore, the moral responsibility must also rest--a burden the
President bore with a cheerfulness and equanimity almost amounting to
unconsciousness.

I first set foot in Aureataland in March, 1880, when I was landed
on the beach by a boat from the steamer, at the capital town of
Whittingham. I was a young man, entering on my twenty-sixth year, and
full of pride at finding myself at so early an age sent out to fill
the responsible position of manager at our Aureataland branch. The
directors of the bank were then pursuing what may without unfairness
be called an adventurous policy, and, in response to the urgent
entreaties and glowing exhortations of the President, they had decided
on establishing a branch at Whittingham. I commanded a certain amount
of interest on the board, inasmuch as the chairman owed my father a
sum of money, too small to mention but too large to pay, and when, led
by the youthful itch for novelty, I applied for the post I succeeded
in obtaining my wish, at a salary of a hundred dollars a month. I
am sorry to say that in the course of a later business dealing the
balance of obligation shifted from the chairman to my father, an
unhappy event which deprived me of my hold on the company and
seriously influenced my conduct in later days. When I arrived in
Aureataland the bank had been open some six months, under the guidance
of Mr. Thomas Jones, a steady going old clerk, who was in future to
act as chief (and indeed only) cashier under my orders.

I found Whittingham a pleasant little city of about five thousand
inhabitants, picturesquely situated on a fine bay, at the spot where
the river Marcus debouched into the ocean. The town was largely
composed of Government buildings and hotels, but there was a street
of shops of no mean order, and a handsome square, called the "Piazza
1871," embellished with an equestrian statue of the President. Round
about this national monument were a large number of seats, and, hard
by, a _cafe_ and band stand. Here, I soon found, was the center of
life in the afternoons and evenings. Going along a fine avenue of
trees for half a mile or so, you came to the "Golden House," the
President's official residence, an imposing villa of white stone with
a gilt statue of Aureataland, a female figure sitting on a plowshare,
and holding a sword in the right hand, and a cornucopia in the left.
By her feet lay what was apparently a badly planed cannon ball; this,
I learned, was a nugget, and from its presence and the name of the
palace, I gathered that the president had once hoped to base the
prosperity of his young republic on the solid foundation of mineral
wealth. This hope had been long abandoned.

I have always hated hotels, so I lost no time in looking round for
lodgings suitable to my means, and was fortunate enough to obtain a
couple of rooms in the house occupied by a Catholic priest, Father
Jacques Bonchretien. He was a very good fellow, and, though we did
not become intimate, I could always rely on his courtesy and friendly
services. Here I lived in great comfort at an expense of fifty dollars
a month, and I soon found that my spare fifty made me a well-to-do man
in Whittingham. Accordingly I had the _entree_ of all the best houses,
including the Golden House, and a very pleasant little society we had;
occasional dances, frequent dinners, and plenty of lawn tennis and
billiards prevented me feeling the tedium I had somewhat feared, and
the young ladies of Whittingham did their best to solace my exile. As
for business, I found the bank doing a small business, but a tolerably
satisfactory one, and, if we made some bad debts, we got high interest
on the good ones, so that, one way or another, I managed to send home
pretty satisfactory reports, and time passed on quietly enough in
spite of certain manifestations of discontent among the population.
These disturbing phenomena were first brought prominently to my notice
at the time when I became involved in the fortunes of the Aureataland
national debt, and as all my story turns on this incident, it perhaps
is a fit subject for a new chapter.




CHAPTER II.

A FINANCIAL EXPEDIENT.


When our branch was established at Whittingham there had been an
arrangement made between ourselves and the Government, by the terms of
which we were to have the Government business, and to occupy, in fact,
much that quasi-official position enjoyed by the Bank of England at
home. As a _quid pro quo_, the bank was to lend to the Republic the
sum of five hundred thousand dollars, at six per cent. The President
was at the time floating a loan of one million dollars for the purpose
of works at the harbor of Whittingham. This astute ruler had, it
seemed, hit on the plan of instituting public works on a large scale
as a corrective to popular discontent, hoping thereby not only to
develop trade, but also to give employment to many persons who,
if unoccupied, became centers of agitation. Such at least was the
official account of his policy; whether it was the true one I saw
reason to doubt later on. As regards this loan, my office was purely
ministerial. The arrangements were duly made, the proper guarantees
given, and in June, 1880, I had the pleasure of handing over to the
President the five hundred thousand dollars. I learned from him on
that occasion that, to his great gratification, the balance of the
loan had been taken up.

"We shall make a start at once, sir," said the President, in his usual
confident but quiet way. "In two years Whittingham harbor will walk
over the world. Don't be afraid about your interest. Your directors
never made a better investment."

I thanked his Excellency, accepted a cigar, and withdrew with a
peaceful mind. I had no responsibility in the matter, and cared
nothing whether the directors got their interest or not. I was,
however, somewhat curious to know who had taken up the rest of the
loan, a curiosity which was not destined to be satisfied for some
time.

The works were begun and the interest was paid, but I cannot say that
the harbor progressed rapidly; in fact, I doubt if more than one
hundred thousand dollars ever found their way into the pockets of
contractors or workmen over the job. The President had some holes dug
and some walls built; having reached that point, about two years after
the interview above recorded he suddenly drew off the few laborers
still employed, and matters came to a dead stop.

It was shortly after this occurrence that I was honored with an
invitation to dine at the Golden House. It was in the month of July,
1882. Needless to say, I accepted the invitation, not only because it
was in the nature of a command, but also because the President gave
uncommonly good dinners, and, although a bachelor (in Aureataland, at
all events), had as well ordered a household as I have ever known.
My gratification was greatly increased when, on my arrival, I found
myself the only guest, and realized that the President considered my
society in itself enough for an evening's entertainment. It did cross
my mind that this might mean business, and I thought it none the worse
for that.

We dined in the famous veranda, the scene of so many brilliant
Whittingham functions. The dinner was beyond reproach, the wines
perfection. The President was a charming companion. Though not, as I
have hinted, a man of much education, he had had a wide experience of
life, and had picked up a manner at once quiet and cordial, which set
me completely at my ease. Moreover, he paid me the compliment,
always so sweet to youth, of treating me as a man of the world. With
condescending confidence he told me many tales of his earlier days;
and as he had been everywhere and done everything where and which
a man ought not to be and do, his conversation was naturally most
interesting.

"I am not holding myself up as an example," he said, after one of his
most unusual anecdotes. "I can only hope that my public services will
be allowed to weigh in the balance against my private frailties."

He said this with some emotion.

"Even your Excellency," said I, "may be content to claim in that
respect the same indulgence as Caesar and Henri Quatre."

"Quite so," said the President. "I suppose they were not exactly--eh?"

"I believe not," I answered, admiring the President's readiness, for
he certainly had a very dim notion who either of them was.

Dinner was over and the table cleared before the President seemed
inclined for serious conversation. Then he called for cigars, and
pushing them toward me said:

"Take one, and fill your glass. Don't believe people who tell you not
to drink and smoke at the same time. Wine is better without smoke,
and smoke is better without wine, but the combination is better than
either separately."

I obeyed his commands, and we sat smoking and sipping in silence for
some moments. Then the President said, suddenly:

"Mr. Martin, this country is in a perilous condition."

"Good God, your Excellency!" said I, "do you refer to the earthquake?"
(There had been a slight shock a few days before.)

"No, sir," he replied, "to the finances. The harbor works have
proved far more expensive than I anticipated. I hold in my hand the
engineer's certificate that nine hundred and three thousand dollars
have been actually expended on them, and they are not finished--not by
any means finished."

They certainly were not; they were hardly begun.

"Dear me," I ventured to say, "that seems a good deal of money,
considering what there is to show for it."

"You cannot doubt the certificate, Mr. Martin," said the President.

I did doubt the certificate, and should have liked to ask what fee the
engineer had received. But I hastily said it was, of course, beyond
suspicion.

"Yes," said he steadily, "quite beyond suspicion. You see, Mr. Martin,
in my position I am compelled to be liberal. The Government cannot
set other employers the example of grinding men down by low wages.
However, reasons apart, there is the fact. We cannot go on without
more money; and I may tell you, in confidence, that the political
situation makes it imperative we should go on. Not only is my personal
honor pledged, but the Opposition, Mr. Martin, led by the colonel, is
making itself obnoxious--yes, I may say very obnoxious."

"The colonel, sir," said I, with a freedom engendered of dining, "is a
beast."

"Well," said the President, with a tolerant smile, "the colonel,
unhappily for the country, is no true patriot. But he is powerful;
he is rich; he is, under myself alone, in command of the army. And,
moreover, I believe he stands well with the signorina. The situation,
in fact, is desperate. I must have money, Mr. Martin. Will your
directors make me a new loan?"

I knew very well the fate that would attend any such application.
The directors were already decidedly uneasy about their first loan;
shareholders had asked awkward questions, and the chairman had found
no small difficulty in showing that the investment was likely to prove
either safe or remunerative. Again, only a fortnight before, the
Government had made a formal application to me on the same subject. I
cabled the directors, and received a prompt reply in the single word
"Tootsums," which in our code meant, "Must absolutely and finally
decline to entertain any applications." I communicated the contents
of the cable to Senor Don Antonio de la Casabianca, the Minister
of Finance, who had, of course, communicated them in turn to the
President.

I ventured to remind his Excellency of these facts. He heard me with
silent attention.

"I fear," I concluded, "therefore, that it is impossible for me to be
of any assistance to your Excellency."

He nodded, and gave a slight sigh. Then, with an air of closing the
subject, he said:

"I suppose the directors are past reason. Help yourself to a brandy
and soda."

"Allow me to mix one for you, sir," I answered.

While I was preparing our beverages he remained silent. When I had sat
down again he said:

"You occupy a very responsible position here for so young a man, Mr.
Martin--not beyond your merits, I am sure."

I bowed.

"They leave you a pretty free hand, don't they?"

I replied that as far as routine business went I did much as seemed
good in my own eyes.

"Routine business? including investments, for instance?" he asked.

"Yes," said I; "investments in the ordinary course of
business--discounting bills and putting money out on loan and mortgage
over here. I place the money, and merely notify the people at home of
what I have done."

"A most proper confidence to repose in you," the President was good
enough say. "Confidence is the life of business; you must trust a man.
It would be absurd to make you send home the bills, and deeds, and
certificate, and what not. Of course they wouldn't do that."

Though this was a statement, somehow it also sounded like a question,
so I answered:

"As a rule they do me the compliment of taking my word. The fact is,
they are, as your Excellency says, obliged to trust somebody."

"Exactly as I thought. And you sometimes have large sums to place?"

At this point, notwithstanding my respect for the President, I began
to smell a rat.

"Oh, no, sir," I replied, "usually very small. Our business is not so
extensive as we could wish."

"Whatever," said the President, looking me straight in the face,
"whatever may be usual, at this moment you have a large sum--a very
respectable sum--of money in your safe at the bank, waiting for
investment."

"How the devil do you know that?" I cried.

"Mr. Martin! It is no doubt my fault; I am too prone to ignore
etiquette; but you forget yourself."

I hastened to apologize, although I was pretty certain the President
was contemplating a queer transaction, if not flat burglary.

"Ten thousand pardons, your Excellency, for my most unbecoming tone,
but may I ask how you became possessed of this information?"

"Jones told me," he said simply.

As it would not have been polite to express the surprise I felt at
Jones' simplicity in choosing such a _confidant_, I held my peace.

"Yes," continued the President, "owing to the recent sales of your
real property in this country (sales due, I fear, to a want of
confidence in my administration), you have at this moment a sum of
three hundred thousand dollars in the bank safe. Now (don't interrupt
me, please), the experience of a busy life teaches me that commercial
reputation and probity depend on results, not on methods. Your
directors have a prejudice against me and my Government. That
prejudice you, with your superior opportunities for judgment, cannot
share. You will serve your employers best by doing for them what they
haven't the sense and courage to do for themselves. I propose that
you should assume the responsibility of lending me this money. The
transaction will redound to the profit of the bank. It shall also," he
added slowly, "redound to your profit."

I began to see my way. But there were difficulties.

"What am I to tell the directors?" I asked.

"You will make the usual return of investments and debts outstanding,
mortgages, loans on approved security--but you know better than I do."

"False returns, your Excellency means?"

"They will no doubt be formally inaccurate," the President admitted.

"What if they ask for proofs?" said I.

"Sufficient unto the day," said the President.

"You have rather surprised me, sir," I said, "but I am most anxious
to oblige you, and to forward the welfare of Aureataland. There are,
however, two points which occur to me. First, how am I to be insured
against not getting my interest? That I must have."

"Quite so," he interrupted. "And the second point I can anticipate.
It is, what token of my gratitude for your timely assistance can I
prevail on you to accept?"

"Your Excellency's knowledge of human nature is surprising."

"Kindly give me your attention, Mr. Martin, and I will try to satisfy
both your very reasonable requirements. You have $300,000; those you
will hand over to me, receiving in return Government six per cent.
bonds for that amount, I will then hand back to you $65,000; 45,000
you will retain as security for your interest. In the event of any
failure on the part of Aureataland to meet her obligations honorably,
you will pay the interest on the whole 300,000 out of that sum. That
secures you for more than two years against absolute failure of
interest, which in reality you need not fear. Till the money is wanted
you will have the use of it. The remaining 20,000 I shall beg of you
to accept as your commission, or rather as a token of my esteem.
Two hundred thousand absolutely--45,000 as long as Aureataland pays
interest! You must admit I deal with you as one gentleman with
another, Mr. Martin. In the result, your directors get their interest,
I get my loan, you get your bonus. We are all benefited; no one is
hurt! All this is affected at the cost of a harmless stratagem."

I was full of admiration. The scheme was very neat, and, as far as the
President and myself were concerned, he had been no more than just in
pointing out its advantages. As for the directors, they would probably
get their interest; anyhow, they would get it for two years. There was
risk, of course; a demand for evidence of my alleged investments, or a
sudden order to realize a heavy sum at short notice, would bring the
house about my ears. But I did not anticipate this _contretemps_, and
at the worst I had my twenty thousand dollars and could make myself
scarce therewith. These calculations were quite correct at the moment,
but I upset them afterward by spending the dollars and by contracting
a tie which made flight from Aureataland a distasteful alternative.

"Well, Mr. Martin," said the President, "do you agree?"

I still hesitated. Was it a moral scruple? Probably not, unless,
indeed, prudence and morality are the same thing.

The President rose and put his hand on my shoulder.

"Better say yes. I might take it, you know, and cause you to
disappear--believe me, with reluctance, Mr. Martin. It is true I
shouldn't like this course. It would perhaps make my position
here untenable. But not having the money would certainly make it
untenable."

I saw the force of this argument, and gulping down my brandy and soda,
I said:

"I can refuse your Excellency nothing."

"Then take your hat and come along to the bank," said he.

This was sharp work.

"Your Excellency does not mean to take the money now--to-night?" I
exclaimed.

"Not to take, Mr. Martin--to receive it from you. We have made our
bargain. What is the objection to carrying it out promptly?"

"But I must have the bonds. They must be prepared, sir."

"They are here," he said, taking a bundle from the drawer of a
writing-table. "Three hundred thousand dollars, six per cent. stock,
signed by myself, and countersigned by Don Antonio. Take your hat and
come along."

I did as I was bid.




CHAPTER III.

AN EXCESS OF AUTHORITY.


It was a beautiful moonlight night, and Whittingham was looking her
best as we made our way along the avenue leading to the Piazza 1871.
The President walked briskly, silent but serene; I followed, the
trouble in my mind reflected in a somewhat hang-dog air, and I was not
much comforted when the President broke the stillness of the night by
saying:

"You have set your foot on the first rung of the ladder that leads to
fame and wealth, Mr. Martin."

I was rather afraid I had set it on the first rung of the ladder that
leads to the gallows. But there the foot was; what the ladder turned
out to be was in the hands of the gods; so I threw off care, and as we
entered the Piazza I pointed to the statue and said:

"Behold my inspiring example, your Excellency."

"By Jove, yes!" he replied; "I make the most of my opportunities."

I knew he regarded me as one of his opportunities, and was making the
most of me. This is not a pleasant point of view to regard one's self
from, so I changed the subject, and said:

"Shall we call for Don Antonio?"

"Why?"

"Well, as he's Minister of Finance, I thought perhaps his presence
would make the matter more regular."

"If the presence of the President," said that official, "can't make
a matter regular, I don't know what can. Let him sleep on. Isn't his
signature on the bonds enough?"

What could I do? I made one more weak objection:

"What shall we tell Jones?"

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