Money (Oxford World’s Classics) (24 page)

‘Oh, I can happily say, Monsieur, that she has given me great satisfaction. She’s educated, she’s honest… And you can see for yourself, she has no equal for sweetness of nature.’

Indeed Saccard found her charming, this blonde flower of the Paris streets, with her frail grace and her large eyes beneath little curls of fair hair. She accepted her father’s adoration, still well-behaved, having had no reason not to be, but with a fierce and tranquil egoism in the limpid brilliance of her eyes.

‘So, Monsieur, she is now of an age to be married, and in fact a good suitor has just come forward, the son of our neighbour the cardboard manufacturer. But he’s a lad who wants to go into business, and he’s
asking for six thousand francs. It’s not too much, he could very well find a girl who’d bring him more… I must add that I lost my wife four years ago and she left us her savings, her little earnings as a cook, you see?… So I have four thousand francs; but that’s not six thousand, and the young man is in a hurry, so is Nathalie…’

The girl, who was listening and smiling, with her clear gaze, so cold and so determined, gave a sharp nod of agreement.

‘Of course… I’m fed up, I want to see an end of it one way or the other.’

Once more Saccard cut in. He had judged the man to be unimaginative but very capable, very good-hearted, and accustomed to military discipline. And it was enough that he’d come on the advice of Madame Caroline.

‘That’s fine, my friend… I am going to have a newspaper, and I’m taking you on as office-boy… leave me your address, and goodbye for now.’

However, Dejoie made no move to go. He went on, with some embarrassment:

‘Monsieur is most kind, and I gratefully accept the post, for I must work when once I’ve got Nathalie settled… But I came about something else. Yes, I learned, through Madame Caroline and some others, that Monsieur is going to be involved in some grand ventures and will be able to make as much profit as he likes for his friends and acquaintances… So, if Monsieur would kindly concern himself with us, if Monsieur would be willing to let us have some shares…’

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 unexpected 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.