"The devil!" he exclaimed, with passionate ferocity. "The devil!"
Other men of business, besides James Peake, made similar exclamations
that morning; for the collapse of Eardley Brothers, the great
earthenware manufacturers, who were chiefly responsible for the ruinous
cutting of prices in the American and Colonial markets, was no ordinary
trade fiasco. Bursley was staggered, especially when it learnt that the
Bank, the inaccessible and autocratic Bank, was an unsecured creditor
for twelve thousand pounds.
Peake abandoned the Blackpool customer and drove off to consult his
lawyer at Hanbridge; he stood to lose three hundred and fifty pounds, a
matter sufficiently disconcerting. Yet, in another part of his mind, he
felt strangely serene and happy, for he was sure now of winning his bet
of one shilling with Randolph Sneyd. In the first place, the failure of
Eardleys would annihilate the organ scheme, and in the second place no
one would have the audacity to ask him for a subscription of a hundred
pounds when it was known that he would be a heavy sufferer in the
Eardley bankruptcy.
Later in the day he happened to meet one of the Eardleys, and at once
launched into a stream of that hot invective of which he was a master.
Pages:
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459