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WITH A PASSING GLORY

'GENTLEMEN, I have no hesitation in saying that in all probability our property will prove of unparalleled richness, and those who hold shares in this company will have cause to congratulate themselves. You have heard the report of our engineer at the works. Nothing could be more satisfactory, and, though we have only been incorporated a little over four months, everything points to the prospects of speedy dividends. Necessarily to me it is a source of deep gratification, as your chairman, that I am able to place before you such glowing accounts—accounts which, from personal knowledge, I think I may venture to say are in every way justified. And now I have another pleasurable duty to perform, and one that I hope will meet with your approbation. I have secured the refusal for two months of about two hundred and fifty acres of land immediately adjoining our present property. Beneath this land there are possibly tons of gold waiting our energy and enterprise to bring from the darkness, in which it has lain since the beginning of time, to the light of day. This land belonged to a Mexican, who sold it recently to a small syndicate. This syndicate, however, is practically in the Bankruptcy Court, but they have given me the option of their property. Now, gentlemen, I have paid a deposit on this property, and I propose to at once form a new company to take it over and exploit it, and I am of opinion that we shall prove it to be as rich or even richer than our present possession. Before the shares are offered in the new company to the general public, I think it but right that you should have the privilege | | 111 of subscribing, and with that end in view I have arranged that everyone present can, before he leaves the room, sign a provisional document pledging himself as many shares as he thinks proper, subject to the company being formed.

It now remains for me to congratulate you on the rosy prospects of our enterprise; and I express the hope that when I next have the pleasure of meeting you I shall be able to announce a substantial dividend on our first year's working. (Loud and prolonged cheering.)

'A vote of thanks terminated the proceedings, which throughout were most harmonious, and the general feeling was that the company had acquired a very substantial property. We understand that the shares are already at a premium. A large proportion of the capital for the purchase of the adjoining property referred to by the chairman in his speech was promised before the shareholders left the room.'

The above is an extract from a report in a financial paper of the statutory meeting of the shareholders in the 'Great Golden Reefs Mines and Land Exploration Company, Limited,' whose registered capital was half a million of money, the whole of which had been subscribed. The property was situated somewhere in California, and the chairman and managing director was a gentleman bearing the picturesque name of Josiah Woodfield Bell Flowers. This gentleman, whose appearance was as picturesque as his name, had burst upon London like a meteor. What his origin was, where the came from, what his connections were, nobody seemed to know, and nobody seemed disposed to ask. Tall, handsome, well-proportioned, and of an age when a man—not a born fool—is supposed to have acquired wisdom, and in addition possessed of a beautiful voice, an insinuating and apparently frank, artless man, Mr. Flowers speedily won the favour of all with whom he came in contact. Ladies vowed he was 'charming,' and 'such a nice man,' with strong emphasis on the adjective, while men declared him to be 'a jolly good fellow.'

Mr. Bell Flowers had come over to begrimed, fog-sodden, and benighted London from the rich, glowing, sun- | | 112 baked lands of California, and the tales he had to tell of the potential wealth of certain regions he had explored, and in which he had acquired proprietarial and mining rights, set the silly Cockneys agape; and when, with true American philanthropy, he offered his properties for the public benefit subject to the condition that the trifle of half a million pounds sterling was subscribed in shares, of which he as vendor would accept the nominal sum of two hundred and fifty thousand pounds, and with the American aptitude for tall talk he spoke of wealth beyond the dreams of avarice, the grateful public flocked to him like sheep, and baaed in chorus—'Give us of your shares. Here are our purses and cheque-books.' Widows and parsons struggling to live respectably on a bare pittance felt that their chance had come at last, and figuratively they threw their money at the head of Mr. Josiah Woodfield Bell Flowers, who was 'such a nice man.'

Mr. Bell Flowers, as such a noble-minded benefactor had a right to do, set himself up a superb mansion in the neighbourhood of Hyde Park, and his palatial residence was ordered in a way that befitted a financial king. Here he gave superb entertainments, and here Mammon worshippers, My Lord This and My Lady That, with an army of their followers, assembled and did honour to their god.

The additional company to which Mr. Bell Flowers referred at the above-mentioned meeting was duly floated, with a capital of three hundred thousand pounds. It was known as 'The Golden Reefs Mines Extension.' Mr. Flowers received a handsome proportion of this, and was elected chairman by an obedient board of guinea-pigs.

Mr. Bell Flowers, being rich, handsome, and still on the right side of the hill of life, and a bachelor to boot, was, as may well be supposed, an object of intense interest to mammas who had unmarried daughters on their hands. These dames hovered around him like flies around a sugar-tub. Mr. Bell Flowers showed that he was susceptible to female charms, for he said pretty things to all of the young ladies, and he gave them lollipops and trinkets, and set many | | 113 a foolish heart throbbing wildly. But at last it leaked out that this golden god had deigned to smile sweetly on pretty little Sophie Clarges, the only daughter of Mr. 'Jack' Clarges, who was reputed to have made an enormous fortune by Stock Exchange speculations. At any rate, he lived in a very snug little house in fashionable Park Lane, and his wife entertained in a princely way.

Sophie was young—about two-and-twenty—and, while not exactly a beauty, she was passably fair. But anything she lacked physically was more than amply compensated for by the fortune her father had promised to settle upon her, and which was reputed to be the goodly sum of a million pounds. Mr. Jack Clarges' beginnings had been very humble, according to accounts. His father had worked in a coal mine, and so did Jack in his youth, but he was of an ambitious turn of mind, and, leaving the mines, had worked his way up, and finally made his pile on the Stock Exchange.

Mr. Bell Flowers and Mr. Jack Clarges became familiar, and while Jack was not particularly anxious for his daughter to marry anyone, thought it might not be a had thing if she became the wife of Flowers. However, he did not urge it, nor did he oppose it. He was a good, easy-going sort of fellow, who liked good company and good living, and was not disposed to trouble or concern himself much about anything. His wife, however, was a lady of a very different stamp. Being somewhat coarse, a little vulgar, and somewhat indifferent about the use of the letter 'h,' she found herself—in spite of her wealth—shut off from that exclusive section of society which prides itself on its blue blood, and which shudders at the mere thought of mingling this blue blood with the red of the mere plebeian. She was designing, however, and saw that the dashing, tactful, and pushing Bell Flowers was enabled to pass the gate at which she, like the Peri at the gate of Paradise, could only sit and sigh. So she resolved that her Sophie should become Mrs. Bell Flowers.

Sophie was a dutiful daughter enough, greatly attached to her father, and tolerant of her mother. She had given | | 114 her heart to a worthy young gentleman of the name of Robert Lacy Eccles, son of a gentleman who had distinguished himself as an officer in the army, but had died wretchedly poor, and left his family—a large one—utterly unprovided for. Robert, who had been educated at one of the great public schools, took to journalism, and had written a couple of novels, one of which had brought him a certain amount of fame. But Bob was poor, was without influence, and, as it seemed to Mrs. Clarges, never likely to gain a footing within that magic circle for which she yearned. So Mrs. Clarges said unto her daughter:

'Sophie, let us have no more nonsense with that vulgar and penniless fellow, Eccles. Ugh! Only to think he should ever have had the audacity to suppose for a moment I should sanction his courting you. I can't imagine how your father ever encouraged him to come to the house. But, there, your father always was stupid, and he seems to think that because Robert holds some obscure position on the "Daily Snarler" he might be of use. It makes me angry to think your father is so low in his tastes. I wish he'd some of my pride, I'm sure. However, Robert shall not come here any more. I have higher aims for you, and you will give every encouragement to dear Mr. Flowers. A nicer gentleman I am sure I wouldn't wish to meet. He's so rich, too, and then he has such influence in society.'

'But, ma,' pleaded her daughter meekly, 'how do you know that Mr. Flowers thinks anything about me?'

'How do I know? Well, upon my soul, child, you would make a saint swear. How do I know, indeed? What do you think I am? Do you think I am so blind that I cannot see? It would be a clever man, my dear, that would deceive me, I can tell you. Why, I can read Mr. Flowers as if he were an open book. He is just breaking his heart about you, and you've only got to play your cards right to secure him.'

Sophie sighed 'heigho,' silently. She had never opposed her own wishes to those of her parents, and she hadn't the moral courage to do so in this instance. Of course, there | | 115 had been nothing like an engagement between her and Robert, but she liked him ever so much, and she was perfectly well aware that he was just breaking his heart about her.

It was not many days after that conversation with her mother that she and Bob met. When he treated her with the familiarity of old, and showed in a thousand little ways how precious she was in his sight, she gave him to understand—not without an effort—that their 'flirtation,' as she called it, must end. They parted, and many weeks passed. Bob had been very foolish during those weeks. He sought for Lethe where men with sorrows often seek it, when one night in a billiard-room an intimate suddenly exclaimed:

'Oh, by the way, Bob, I heard to-day that the girl you used to spoon, Sophie Clarges, is going to marry Bell Flowers, the millionaire.'

'Oh,' was all that Bob said, but in it he expressed a great volume of feeling.

Some days later he was in the City, and he dropped into Mr. Clarges' office. Clarges liked him, and was always glad to see him.

'I suppose,' said Bob, 'I must congratulate you.'

'On what?'

'Well, I hear that your daughter is engaged to Mr. Bell Flowers.'

'Oh, yes. Well, these things get fixed up somehow. Women folk, you know, are kittle cattle. I suppose my missus has had a finger in that pie.'

'But do you mean to say Sophie is only going to marry him because her mother wishes it?'

'My dear Eccles, do you suppose that Sophie would be likely to marry a man she didn't care about? No, she's not built that way, my friend. Though I haven't been consulted in the matter, I shall throw no obstacle in the girl's way. She's plenty of common sense, and I've all along resolved that I would never try to influence her choice. I used to think at one time she'd rather a sneaking regard for you, but I suppose I was wrong.'

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Eccles wilted, as it were, at this remark, and he asked in a manner which seemed to imply that the subject had no interest for him:

'If that had proved to have been the case what would you have said?'

"I've just told you, my boy, I should never stand in the way of the girl's happiness. If she wanted you, and you wanted her, you should have her as far as I am concerned. But, you see, she wants Flowers; so there's an end of the matter. It will be a marriage after my wife's own heart, for I believe she has set her mind on Flowers.'

Robert Eccles gulped down a rising sob, and as he was shaking his friend's hand preparatory to going, he said:

'I suppose Mr. Bell Flowers is all right?'

Robert didn't know himself what induced him to make that remark. It slipped out. It rose in his mind suddenly, and it was uttered as it came. Perhaps it was the mere expression of some vague and shapeless thought which had haunted him. Bell Flowers' name had been before the public for a year or two. He was a much-talked-about man, and, of course, like all men who make themselves conspicuous by success, he had his enemies, for envy and jealousy are powerful factors in the human sum, and malice had shown itself, and some people had dared to hint that the rosy things which had been said about Mr. Flowers' mining properties were not justified.

Mr. Flowers' prospective father-in-law looked at the questioner in a puzzled way at first, then angrily, and he said with unusual warmth:

'What the deuce do you mean?'

Bob apologised, but Mr. Clarges was not satisfied. 'Do you know anything against Flowers?'

'No.'

'Have you heard anything?'

'No.'

'Then what's the drift of your remark?'

'Nothing.'

'Now, look here, young Eccles, don't you play with | | 117 me. I'm a plain, blunt man, as you know, and I'm straight, I am. Now, if Bell Flowers isn't straight I would rather put Sophie into her coffin than she should marry him; so, if you know anything, be frank.'

'Upon my honour, I don't, Mr. Clarges.'

'Then what the deuce do you mean, sir, by your cowardly insinuation?'

It was no insinuation. I—I—'

'I consider it a beastly low action for one man to try and besmirch another out of pure spite. I had no idea you were a fellow of that sort. You've shown yourself in a new light, and you will be good enough to avoid my house and my people in the future. Good day to you.'

Robert Eccles never quite knew how he got out of that office, but he found himself in the street, being hurried along by the human tide. His head was in a whirl; he was sick at heart. He had eaten of Dead Sea fruit, and there was an exceeding bitterness within him. He had loved Sophie and lost her, and now he had offended his best friend.

Mr. Clarges' anger was not appeased for some time. Although a plain and blunt man he had pride, and his pride was wounded. When he went home he could not rest until he had told his wife what had passed between him and Robert. She was furious. She said some very harsh and bitter things about young Eccles. He was a 'sneak,' 'a deceitful, nasty fellow,' that's what he was. And according to her estimate Mr. Flowers was perfect, a gentleman with a great and goodly mind, and when he became her son-in-law she would feel that her cup of happiness was full.

His wife's strength of language somehow jarred on Mr. Clarges' nerves. He was silent, and he asked himself : 'Is Bell Flowers all right?'

The question reminded him that he knew absolutely nothing of Flowers' origin, and he had heard expressions in the City far from complimentary to Mr. Flowers, owing to his very roseate description of the 'Great Golden Reefs' property not having been justified. In fact, now that Mr. Clarges came to think of it, there seemed to be a great deal | | 118 of mystery about the Golden Reefs. No reports were forth-coming. Nothing had been earned, and as far as could be ascertained not an ounce of gold had been abstracted.

In the meantime the subject of Mr. Clarges' meditations continued to flourish, but as the days passed Clarges could not help having the feeling that he had been somewhat lax in his duty. Although he tried to deafen himself to them, those words of Robert Eccles rang in his ears: 'I suppose Mr. Bell Flowers is all right?' And other questions rose in his own mind. 'Who was Mr. Bell Flowers? Where did he come from? Who were his people? Was there any absolute proof that the properties he sold for such an enormous sum were worth a five-pound note?'

Mr. Clarges had shown strong anger to Bob Eccles, and had severed the friendly connection between them; but, after all, wasn't Bob's remark a perfectly justifiable one, for Bell Flowers was a mystery. The result of these cogitations on Mr. Clarges' part was that, impelled by something he could not quite understand, and influenced by a feeling he could not resist, he went down one morning to the office of Tyler Tatlock, and sought a private interview with the famous detective. He made himself known, and the detective intimated that by repute his visitor was no stranger to him.

'You will appreciate my position, then,' continued Clarges, 'and still more so when I tell you that my only daughter, who is as the apple of my eye, is about to be married to a very well-known gentleman; but, but—the fact is—well—you see it's this way, I—I sus—No, I won't say that, but my prospective son-in-law is rather a reticent man, and never talks about his past. I—I—'

Understanding his visitor's embarrassment, the detective came to his assistance with the remark:

'You wish me to learn something about him?'

'Precisely.'

'Where does he hail from?'

'The United States, I believe; and he has been a good deal in California.'

'All, some queer people come over here from the States,' | | 119 remarked Tatlock reflectively. 'But what is the name of the gentleman?' asked Tatlock.

'Mr. Josiah Woodfield Bell Flowers.'

'Bell Flowers; the name seems familiar to me,' mused the detective.

'Very likely. He's well known in the City in connection with the Great Gold Reefs Mines and Land Exploration Company, Limited,' rejoined Clarges.

'Oh, ah! now I remember. A gigantic scheme for making the fortune of somebody, but not the share-holders'.'

'Do you know anything?' asked Clarges anxiously. 'Oh dear no—I only suspect.'

'Suspect what?'

'That the glowing reports issued at the time the company was formed were coloured and spiced to attract the unwary.'

Mr. Clarges had lapsed into silence and thoughtfulness. He seemed much distressed, and passing his hand over his forehead said 'Well, look here, Mr. Tatlock, will you slip away quietly to California; learn what you can about the property and Mr. Flowers, and report to me at the earliest possible moment? My wife is very anxious to hurry the marriage on, but as I intend giving my daughter a large fortune, it is but right I should have some assurance that the man who is to be her husband is worthy of her.'

'I agree with you, sir. I will accept your commission, and, if I may venture to do so, I strongly advise you not to allow this marriage to take place until I have been abroad. A young lady with a large fortune should be carefully guarded. If all is right, you and I will be the only two people who will know that any inquiries have been made, and you may console yourself with the reflection that you have done nothing more than your duty. If all is not right—well, then you will be able to congratulate yourself that you have saved your child from becoming the victim of an adventurer.'

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Mr. Clarges acquiesced in the soundness of the proposition, and took his leave in a somewhat relieved frame of mind.

The weeks that ensued from that memorable interview with Tyler Tatlock were anxious ones to Mr. Clarges, for Mr. Bell Flowers urged that the marriage might be allowed to take place at once, and in this he was backed up by Mrs. Clarges, who could not understand why there should be any delay. But her husband insisted that the ceremony should be delayed until Sophie's twenty-second birthday, which was four months off, and in spite of entreaty on the part of his would-be son-in-law, and of a little storming on the part of Mrs. Clarges, he carried his point, and in this he was supported by his daughter, who was by no means in a desperate hurry to take upon herself the cares and responsibilities of wifedom. And, indeed, to tell the truth, she had not quite got over the wrench of severing herself from Robert Eccles. Had she searched her heart, she might have had to confess that she had not ceased to love him—for love him she certainly did at one time—and though she was engaged to Bell Flowers, he was not quite the same in her sight that Bob had been.

At length the long and trying period of suspense for Mr. Clarges ended. Tyler Tatlock returned from his visit to the States, and at once notified Clarges of the fact. The stockbroker did not allow many hours to elapse before he called at Tatlock's office.

'Well, what news?' he exclaimed in his eagerness. Nothing, I'm afraid, that is likely to cause you any gratification.'

Mr. Clarges' countenance fell, and he had many far from agreeable reflections, the while Tatlock unlocked a large safe and took therefrom a bundle of papers, which he proceeded to spread out on his desk, at which he seated himself with the air of one who was conscious of the grave responsibility resting on him.

'In accordance with your instructions,' he commenced, as he sorted his documents and unfolded a sheet of blue foolscap closely covered with writing, 'I proceeded direct to | | 121 California, and not without considerable difficulty and some risk did I reach the region in which the Great Gold Reefs property is located. Perhaps you could not find in the whole world another such arid, desolate, sun-scorched, snake-haunted wilderness.'

'But are there no mines?' cried the troubled Clarges.

'Of a kind, yes. Long and long ago some mines were worked there and abandoned. Some goldless quartz had been got out of one comparatively recently, and there was a quantity of primitive wooden machinery, and a small stamping engine near the shaft. But the wood had shrivelled up in the fierce sun and fallen in ruins, and the stamping engine was half buried in sand. In a log house in a gully close by dwelt an old negro with his wife and family. He was in charge of the property, such as it was. He was an intelligent fellow, and very communicative. He had been placed there by the person you know as Mr. Flowers, but whom he referred to as Sam Jedling.'

'But how do you know that Jedling and Flowers are the same?'

'Because I showed the old negro the portrait of Mr. Flowers you furnished me with. The old negro grinned from ear to ear, displaying his perfect teeth, and exclaimed, "Yes, yes, that's Massa Sam." Now, I further gathered that a gang of negroes, with two or three white men, one of whom was called "The Boss," worked for a few months at the mines. Every drop of water required, and every scrap of provisions, had to be brought across the desert from a long distance. Two of the white men and several of the niggers died. One of the white men died from sunstroke and two of the blacks from the bite of rattlesnakes, which swarm in that part of the country. The 'Boss,' who was an engineer of the name of Lawson, was unable to continue working owing to being shorthanded. But he hung on for some time, and was joined by Jedling, and the two spent some days in examining the stone that had been brought up, but only a speck of gold here and there could be discovered. At last they finished their inspection, discharged | | 122 the workmen, placed the old negro as caretaker, undertaking to keep him supplied with provisions, and went off. Lawson returned two or three times, on each occasion with two or three white men, but Jedling never went back.'

Clarges groaned. It began to dawn upon him that a huge swindle had been perpetrated.

'Does the story end there?' he asked with a gasp.

'By no means. I have traced the history to some extent of both Jedling and Lawson. The latter was regarded as an engineer of considerable ability, and a mining expert of long experience. I think myself there is little doubt he was corrupted by Jedling, who from all accounts is a swindler of the deepest dye. He appears to be well known in California, and particularly in San Francisco, where he suffered imprisonment for forging a bill. In the time at my disposal I was unable to learn much about his early career, but you may accept the statement as one of fact that he is an unmitigated scoundrel.

'To sum up, the person you know as Josiah Woodfield Bell Flowers has in conjunction with others committed a gigantic fraud on the British public, and you have narrowly escaped giving your daughter and your money into his clutches, for which escape you may thank God.'

Mr. Clarges bowed his head. He almost felt heart-broken. Yet he was deeply, prayerfully thankful his daughter had not been sacrificed. When Mrs. Clarges learnt the truth she went into hysterics, and was ill for several weeks. Sophie sighed; perhaps in her heart she was not altogether sorry things had turned out as they had. Mindful of the unintentional wrong he had done Robert Eccles, her father sent for him and told him everything, and he made but a feeble attempt to disguise that he was not averse to the young couple billing and cooing if they wished to do so. Needless to say, the young couple availed themselves fully of the unexpected opportunity which had occurred for the renewal of the erstwhile pleasant acquaintanceship, an acquaintanceship that speedily ripened, and culminated in the fulness of time in marriage. But | | 123 long before then punishment swift and sure fell upon Josiah Woodfield Bell Flowers, otherwise Sam Jedling, which probably was not his legitimate name after all. It was impossible, of course, for Mr. Clarges to hush the fraud up. To make it known was a duty he owed to himself as an honest man, to his position as a stockbroker, and to the public at large. So he swore an information which led to a warrant being issued, and an officer and two men were sent down to Mr. Flowers' splendid house to execute it. It chanced that he was entertaining a party of friends, but when he learned that his short-lived glory had passed, and the bubble was pricked, he bowed his head and said he would resign himself without a struggle to the inevitable.

He was allowed, accompanied by the officer, to retire to his bedroom to change his evening dress for a more suitable costume. While there he unlocked a small drawer in a cabinet, took therefrom a phial, and drawing the cork, poured the contents of the phial down his throat before he could be stopped. The phial contained prussic acid. For an appreciable time he stood bolt upright, a ghastly pallor overspreading his handsome face. Then he made an effort to speak, but Death gripped him, and he fell face forward on the rich pile carpet that covered the floor.

He had lived his life; he had played his part; the glamour of greatness had lured him; but, alas! it was but for an hour of passing glory, and the end—unchristian burial and a dishonoured grave.