Money (Oxford World’s Classics) (22 page)

As he went on Saccard wasn’t laughing any more, he was drawing himself up on his short legs, glowing with lyrical ardour and making gestures that flung his words to the four corners of the heavens.

‘Look! What about us with our Universal Bank, shan’t we be opening up the widest horizon, a real opening onto the ancient world of Asia, a limitless field for the pickaxe of progress and the dreams of fortune-hunters? Yes, there’s never been a more colossal ambition, and I grant you, never have the conditions for success or failure been more obscure. But that is precisely why we tick all the right boxes, and why I’m convinced we’ll create a real craze in the public as soon as we get known… Our Universal Bank, my word!—at first it will be a traditional establishment dealing in all kinds of banking business, credit and discounts, taking in funds in current accounts, making contracts, arranging or granting loans. But what I want above all is to make it a vehicle for launching your brother’s great projects: that will be its true role, with its profits increasing and its power gradually dominating the market. It is being founded, in short, to provide support
for the financial and industrial companies we’ll be setting up in foreign countries, whose shares we shall hold and which will thus owe their lives to us and guarantee our supremacy… And in the face of this dazzling vision of future conquests, you’re asking me whether it’s permissible to form a syndicate and give its members a bonus that can be written off against start-up costs; you’re worrying about little unavoidable irregularities, some unsubscribed shares that the company will need to keep, using a frontman as cover; in fact you’re declaring war on speculation, on speculation—great heavens!—the very soul, the core, the inner flame of this gigantic mechanism I’m trying to create! You need to realize that all this, so far, is nothing, this paltry little capital of twenty-five million is just a bit of kindling that we’re throwing into the engine to get the fire going! I expect to double it, quadruple it, quintuple it, as our operations expand! We need a hail of gold, a dance of millions, if we want to achieve out there the miracles predicted! But damn it! I can’t guarantee there’ll be no breakages, you can’t go stirring up the world without stepping on a few toes along the way.’

She was watching him, and in her love of life and of everything strong and active, she ended up finding him quite handsome, charming in his verve and conviction. And so, without accepting his theories, which offended her upright and lucid intelligence, she pretended to have been won over.

‘All right, let’s say I’m only a woman and life’s great battles frighten me… Only please try to tread on as few toes as possible, and especially not the toes of anyone I care about!’

Intoxicated by his burst of eloquence, and exulting over the vast project he’d outlined, as if it were all done already, Saccard was now quite benign.

‘Have no fear! I may act the ogre but I’m just teasing… We’re all going to be very rich.’

Then they chatted quietly about the arrangements to be made, and it was agreed that the very next day, after the official foundation of the company, Hamelin would go to Marseilles and from there to the Orient, to put their great plans into operation. However, there was already gossip on the Paris market, rumours were bringing the name of Saccard back from the murky depths into which it had briefly sunk; at first the news was whispered, then spoken more loudly, and then it rang out clearly, promising imminent success, so that once
again, as before in the Parc Monceau, Saccard’s waiting-room was full of people every morning. He found Mazaud dropping by to shake his hand and discuss the day’s news; he had visits from other brokers, including Jacoby, the Jew with the booming voice, and his brother-in-law Delarocque, a big red-haired man who caused his wife so much grief. The kerb market came to call too, in the person of Nathansohn, a small and lively fair-haired man, much favoured by fortune. As for Massias, resigned to his hard lot as an unlucky jobber, he was already turning up every day even though there weren’t yet any orders to be had. The crowd kept on growing larger.

One morning Saccard found the waiting-room full though it was only nine o’clock. As he had not yet taken on any special staff he was being helped, very inadequately, by his valet, and most of the time took it upon himself to let people in. That day, as he was opening the door of his office, he saw Jantrou waiting to enter; but he had caught sight of Sabatani, whom he’d been trying to get hold of for two days.

‘Forgive me, my friend,’ he said, stopping the former professor so that he could let the Levantine in first.

Sabatani, with his disturbing, caressing smile and serpentine suppleness, left the talking to Saccard, and he, knowing his man, made his proposition very plainly:

‘My dear fellow, I need you… We need a frontman. I’ll open an account for you and make you the buyer of a certain number of our shares,
*
that you’ll pay for simply with some juggling of the accounts… As you see, I’m getting straight to the point and treating you as a friend.’

The young man looked at him with his beautiful, velvety eyes, eyes of such softness in his long, dark face.

‘The law, dear Sir, formally requires payment in cash… Oh! it’s not for my sake that I mention this. You’re treating me as a friend, which makes me very proud… I’ll do whatever you want!’

Then Saccard, just to be agreeable, mentioned the high esteem in which Sabatani was held by Mazaud, who now even took his orders without any cover. Then he teased him about Germaine Coeur, with whom he had seen him the day before, and made a crude allusion to the rumours about his being prodigiously well endowed with something exceptionally gigantic, which set the girls in the world of the Bourse dreaming and tormented them with curiosity. Sabatani
didn’t deny it, but just laughed noncommittally on this unseemly subject: oh, yes! the ladies were very amusing, the way they chased after him, they all wanted to see for themselves.

‘Ah! By the way,’ Saccard broke in, ‘we shall also need some signatures to regularize certain operations, transfers, for instance… May I send the packets of papers to you for signing?’

‘But certainly, my dear sir. Whatever you want!’

He didn’t even raise the matter of payment, knowing full well that such services are beyond price; and when Saccard added that he would be paid one franc per signature for his time, he simply nodded his agreement. Then, with that smile of his:

‘I also hope, dear sir, that you won’t refuse me your advice. After all, you’ll be so well placed I shall come to you for information.’

‘Absolutely,’ concluded Saccard, catching his meaning. ‘Goodbye, then… Take it easy now, and don’t go giving in too much to the curiosity of the ladies.’

And with renewed amusement, Saccard saw him off through a side-door that allowed callers to be let out without having to go through the waiting-room.

Saccard then went to open the other door and call in Jantrou. He saw at a glance that the man was a wreck, at the end of his tether, the sleeves of his frock-coat frayed from sitting at café tables waiting for work. The Bourse continued to have no love for him yet he still seemed debonair, with his bushy beard, cynical and highly literate, occasionally uttering a flowery phrase that recalled his former career as an academic.

‘I was just about to write to you,’ said Saccard. ‘We’re drawing up a list of personnel, yours was one of the first names I put down, and I expect I’ll be calling you to our share-issuing office.’

Jantrou stopped him with a wave of the hand.

‘That’s very kind of you, thanks… But I have a business proposition for you.’

He didn’t immediately explain himself, but launched into general matters, asking what role newspapers would play in the launching of the Universal Bank. At the first words on this subject Saccard showed eager enthusiasm, declaring that he was in favour of the widest possible publicity and would devote all available money to that end. No newspaper was to be shunned, not even the most downmarket rag, for his motto was that any publicity was good publicity. His dream
would be to have control of all the newspapers; but that would be too expensive.

‘So, would you be thinking of organizing our advertising?… That might not be a bad idea at that. We can talk it over.’

‘Yes, later on, if you like… But what would you say to your own newspaper, entirely yours, with me as editor? Every morning you’d have a page to yourself, with articles singing your praises, notes calling attention to you, references to you in pieces quite unrelated to the world of finance… in other words, a thorough campaign about everything and nothing, ceaselessly glorifying you—over the dead bodies of your rivals… Does that sound tempting?’

‘I’ll say! So long as it doesn’t cost a fortune.’

‘No, the cost would be quite reasonable.’

At last he gave the name of the paper,
L’Espérance
,
*
a publication founded two years before by a small group of prominent Catholics, the extremists of the party currently waging a fierce war against the Empire. They had enjoyed absolutely no success, and the paper’s imminent disappearance was being announced every day. Saccard protested.

‘But it has a print-run of less than two thousand!’

‘That will be our job, to increase the circulation.’

‘Anyway, it’s impossible: that paper’s been dragging my brother through the mud, and I can’t fall out with my brother right at the start.’

Jantrou gave a gentle shrug.

‘You don’t have to fall out with anyone… You know as well as I do, when a bank owns a paper it’s of little importance whether it supports or attacks the government: if it’s pro-government the bank is sure to be part of every syndicate created by the Minister of Finance to promote the success of state and municipal loans; if it’s for the Opposition the very same minister will have every kind of consideration for the bank it represents, wanting to disarm it and win it over, which usually translates into even more favours… So don’t worry about what colour
L’Espérance
is. Just have a paper, it’s a source of power.’
*

Saccard was silent for a moment, already developing a plan with that lively intelligence of his which instantly allowed him to take over someone else’s idea, explore its possibilities, and adapt it to his needs, making it completely his own: he would buy
L’Espérance
, get rid of any bitter polemics, and lay it at the feet of his brother, who would be
forced to be grateful to him for that; but he would retain its Catholic colouration, keeping this as a threat, as a mechanism always ready to resume its terrible campaign in the name of the interests of religion. And if there was no cooperation he would brandish Rome and the risk of the great Jerusalem coup. That would be a very nice last card to play.

‘Would we be free?’ he asked brusquely.

‘Absolutely free. They’ve had enough of it, the paper has fallen into the hands of a needy chap who will let us have it for ten or so thousand francs. We can do whatever we like with it.’

Saccard took a minute again to reflect.

‘All right then, it’s agreed! Arrange a meeting and bring me your man… You will be editor and I shall put all our publicity in your hands, and I want it to be exceptional, enormous—Oh! later of course, when we have the wherewithal to get the engine going properly.’

He stood up. Jantrou too rose to his feet, trying to hide his joy at finding the means to earn his crust under the bantering laugh of one who has lost his social standing and is weary of the mud of Paris.

‘At last! I’ll be back in my element, my beloved world of letters.’

‘Don’t take anyone on just yet,’ Saccard went on as he escorted him out. ‘And, while I think of it, make a note of a protégé of mine, Paul Jordan, a young man who, in my view, has a remarkable talent and will make an excellent literary journalist for you. I shall write to him telling him to come and see you.’

Jantrou was just going out through the side-door when he was struck by the happy arrangement of the two exits.

‘My word, that’s handy!’ he said with his usual familiarity. ‘People can just disappear… When lovely ladies come calling—like the one I greeted just now in the waiting-room, Baroness Sandorff…’

Saccard had no idea she was there; he shrugged to show his indifference, but Jantrou sniggered, refusing to believe in this lack of interest. The two men shook hands with some vigour.

When he was alone again Saccard instinctively went over to the mirror and ran a hand through his hair, where no hint of white was yet visible. All the same, he had not been lying, women had not been on his mind at all since he had been totally caught up again in business matters; and he was only indulging in that instinctive Gallic gallantry that means a man in France cannot find himself alone with a woman without fearing to be thought a fool if he doesn’t make a
conquest. As soon as he had let the Baroness in he made a great fuss of her.

‘Madame, pray, do sit down…’

Never had he seen her looking so strangely alluring, with her red lips, her burning eyes with the bruised lids, deep-set beneath thick eyebrows. What could she want of him? And he was surprised, almost disappointed, when she explained the purpose of her visit.

‘Ah Monsieur, I do apologize for disturbing you, and to so little purpose as far as you are concerned, but people of our social circle have to help each other out in these little matters… Until recently you had a chef, whom my husband is now about to engage. So I’ve come simply to ask for some information about him.’

So he allowed her to question him, answering in the most obliging way without ever taking his eyes off her, for he thought he could guess that this was just a pretext: she didn’t care in the least about the chef, she had clearly come for something else. And indeed, she organized the conversation in such a way as to bring in the name of a mutual friend, the Marquis de Bohain, who had spoken to her about the Universal Bank. It was so difficult to place one’s money, so hard to find really solid investments! At last he realized she would really like to buy some shares, with the ten per cent bonus for members of the syndicate, and he realized too, even more clearly, that if he opened an account for her she would not pay up.