The Count's Millions [101]
this unfortunate investment account for the absence of the sum which you wish to set aside? Your creditors would be obliged to value these securities, not at their present, but at their former value."
"Evidently; but, unfortunately, I do not possess any such securities."
"You can purchase them."
The coal-merchant opened his eyes in astonishment. "Excuse me," he muttered, "I don't exactly understand you."
He did not understand in the least; but M. Fortunat enlightened him by opening his safe, and displaying an enormous bundle of stocks and shares which had flooded the country a few years previously, and ruined a great many poor, ignorant fools which were hungering for wealth; among them were shares in the Tifila Mining Company, the Berchem Coal Mines, the Greenland Fisheries, the Mutual Trust and Loan Association, and so on. There had been a time when each of these securities would have fetched five hundred or a thousand francs at the Bourse, but now they were not worth the paper on which they were printed.
"Let us suppose, my dear sir," resumed M. Fortunat, "that you had a drawer full of these securities----"
But the other did not allow him to finish. "I see," he exclaimed; "I see--I can sell my stock, and put the proceeds in my pocket with perfect safety. There is enough to represent my capital a thousand times over."
And, in a paroxysm of delight, he added:
"Give me enough of these shares to represent a capital of one hundred and twenty thousand francs; and give me some of each kind. I should like my creditors to have a variety."
Thereupon M. Fortunat counted out a pile of these worthless securities as carefully as if he had been handling bank-notes; and his client at the same time drew out his pocketbook.
"How much do I owe you?" he inquired.
"Three thousand francs."
The honest merchant bounded from his chair. "Three thousand francs!" he repeated. "You must be jesting. That trash is not worth a louis."
"I would not even give five francs for it," rejoined M. Fortunat, coldly; "but it is true that I don't desire to purchase these shares in my creditors' interest. With you it is quite a different matter--this trash, as you very justly call it, will save you at least a hundred thousand francs. I ask only three per cent., which is certainly not dear. Still, you know, I don't force any one to purchase them." And, in a terribly significant tone, he added: "You can undoubtedly buy similar securities on better terms; but take care you don't arouse your creditors' suspicions by applying elsewhere."
"He would betray me, the scoundrel!" thought the merchant. And, realizing that he had fallen into a trap, "Here are three thousand francs," he sighed; "but at least, my dear sir, give me good measure, and throw in a few thousand francs more."
The coal-merchant smiled the ghastly smile of a man who sees no way of escape from imposition, and has, therefore, resolved to submit with the best grace possible. But M. Fortunat's gravity did not relax. He gave what he had promised--neither more nor less--in exchange for the bank-notes, and even gravely exclaimed: "See if the amount is correct."
His client pocketed the shares without counting them: but before leaving the room he made his estimable adviser promise to assist him at the decisive moment, and help him to prepare one of those clear financial statements which make creditors say: "This is an honest man who has been extremely unfortunate."
M. Fortunat was admirably fitted to render this little service; for he devoted such part of his time as was not spent in hunting for missing heirs to difficult liquidations, and he had indeed made bankruptcy a specialty in which he was without a rival. The business was a remunerative one, thanks to the expedient he had revealed to the coal-merchant--an expedient which is common enough nowadays, but of which he might almost be called the inventor. It consisted in compelling the persons who asked for his advice to purchase worthless shares at whatever price he chose to set upon them, and
"Evidently; but, unfortunately, I do not possess any such securities."
"You can purchase them."
The coal-merchant opened his eyes in astonishment. "Excuse me," he muttered, "I don't exactly understand you."
He did not understand in the least; but M. Fortunat enlightened him by opening his safe, and displaying an enormous bundle of stocks and shares which had flooded the country a few years previously, and ruined a great many poor, ignorant fools which were hungering for wealth; among them were shares in the Tifila Mining Company, the Berchem Coal Mines, the Greenland Fisheries, the Mutual Trust and Loan Association, and so on. There had been a time when each of these securities would have fetched five hundred or a thousand francs at the Bourse, but now they were not worth the paper on which they were printed.
"Let us suppose, my dear sir," resumed M. Fortunat, "that you had a drawer full of these securities----"
But the other did not allow him to finish. "I see," he exclaimed; "I see--I can sell my stock, and put the proceeds in my pocket with perfect safety. There is enough to represent my capital a thousand times over."
And, in a paroxysm of delight, he added:
"Give me enough of these shares to represent a capital of one hundred and twenty thousand francs; and give me some of each kind. I should like my creditors to have a variety."
Thereupon M. Fortunat counted out a pile of these worthless securities as carefully as if he had been handling bank-notes; and his client at the same time drew out his pocketbook.
"How much do I owe you?" he inquired.
"Three thousand francs."
The honest merchant bounded from his chair. "Three thousand francs!" he repeated. "You must be jesting. That trash is not worth a louis."
"I would not even give five francs for it," rejoined M. Fortunat, coldly; "but it is true that I don't desire to purchase these shares in my creditors' interest. With you it is quite a different matter--this trash, as you very justly call it, will save you at least a hundred thousand francs. I ask only three per cent., which is certainly not dear. Still, you know, I don't force any one to purchase them." And, in a terribly significant tone, he added: "You can undoubtedly buy similar securities on better terms; but take care you don't arouse your creditors' suspicions by applying elsewhere."
"He would betray me, the scoundrel!" thought the merchant. And, realizing that he had fallen into a trap, "Here are three thousand francs," he sighed; "but at least, my dear sir, give me good measure, and throw in a few thousand francs more."
The coal-merchant smiled the ghastly smile of a man who sees no way of escape from imposition, and has, therefore, resolved to submit with the best grace possible. But M. Fortunat's gravity did not relax. He gave what he had promised--neither more nor less--in exchange for the bank-notes, and even gravely exclaimed: "See if the amount is correct."
His client pocketed the shares without counting them: but before leaving the room he made his estimable adviser promise to assist him at the decisive moment, and help him to prepare one of those clear financial statements which make creditors say: "This is an honest man who has been extremely unfortunate."
M. Fortunat was admirably fitted to render this little service; for he devoted such part of his time as was not spent in hunting for missing heirs to difficult liquidations, and he had indeed made bankruptcy a specialty in which he was without a rival. The business was a remunerative one, thanks to the expedient he had revealed to the coal-merchant--an expedient which is common enough nowadays, but of which he might almost be called the inventor. It consisted in compelling the persons who asked for his advice to purchase worthless shares at whatever price he chose to set upon them, and