The only trouble was that there
was so little to see. The papers said nothing.
The sufferers were the reverse of garrulous. The little
red Scotchman, Semple, who was the visible avenging sword
of the "corner," was more imperturbably silent than
anybody else. His fellow-members in the "House" watched
him now, however, with a new respect. They discovered
unsuspected elements of power in his thin, tight mouth,
in the direct, cold glances of his brown-grey eyes,
in the very way he carried his head and wore his hat.
He came to be pointed out, and nodded about behind his back,
more than anyone else in the "House," and important men
sought his acquaintance, with an awkward show of civility,
who were notorious for their rude exclusiveness.
It might be, of course, that his "corner" would break
under him at any fortnightly settlement, but already he
had carried it much further than such things often went,
and the planning of the coup had been beyond doubt Napoleonic.
Had this small sandy Scot planned it, or was he merely
the weapon in Thorpe's hand? Both views had their supporters
on the Exchange, but after the wrench of August 1st,
when with an abrupt eighty-shilling rise the price of Rubber
Consols stood at 15 pounds, and it was to be computed that
Semple had received on that single day nearly 75,000 pounds
in differences and "backwardation," a story was set afloat
which gave Thorpe the undivided credit of the invention.
Pages:
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296