The Forsyte Saga, Volume 2 (38 page)

‘Hear, hear!' said Michael, astonished at his own voice.

‘It is all very well,' the polished shareholder went on, ‘when anything of this sort happens, to blame a directorate, but, speaking as a director myself, I should be glad to know whom one is to trust, if not one's manager. As to the policy of foreign insurance, it has been before us at two general meetings; and we have pocketed the profit from it for nearly two years. Have we raised a voice against it?'

The dead shareholder uttered a ‘No!' so loud that Michael almost patted his head.

The shareholder, whose neck and back were like a doctor's, rose to answer.

‘I differ from the last speaker in his diagnosis of the case. Let us admit all he says, and look at the thing more widely. The proof of pudding is in the eating. When a Government makes a bad mistake of judgement, the electorate turns against it as soon as it feels the effects. This is a very sound check on administration; it may be rough and ready, but it is the less of two evils. A Board backs its judgement; when it loses, it should pay. I think, perhaps, Mr Tolby, being our informal chairman, was out of order in proposing a vote of no confidence; if that be so, I should be happy to do so, myself.'

The dead shareholder's ‘No!' was so resounding this time that there was a pause for him to speak; he remained, however, without motion. Both of Michael's neighbours were on their feet. They bobbed at each other over Michael's head, and Mr Tolby sat down.

‘Mr Sawdry,' he said.

‘Look 'ere gentlemen,' said Mr Sawdry, ‘and ladies, this
seems to me a case for compromise. The directors that knew about the manager ought to go; but we might stop at that. The gentleman in front of me keeps on saying “No.” Let 'im give us ‘is views.'

‘No,' said the dead shareholder, but less loudly.

‘If a man can't give 'is views,' went on Mr Sawdry, nearly sitting down on Michael, ‘'e shouldn't interrupt, in my opinion.'

A shareholder in the front row now turned completely round so that he faced the meeting.

‘I think,' he said, ‘that to prolong this discussion is to waste time; we are evidently in two, if not three, minds. The whole of the business of this country is now conducted on a system of delegated trust; it may be good, it may be bad – but there it is. You've got to trust somebody. Now, as to this particular case, we've had no reason to distrust the Board, so far; and, as I take it, the Board had no previous reason to distrust the late manager. I think it's going too far, at present, to propose anything definite like a vote of no confidence; it seems to me that we should call the Board in and hear what assurances they have to give us against a repetition of anything of the sort in the future.'

The sounds which greeted this moderate speech were so inextricable that Michael could not get the sense of them. Not so with the speech which followed. It came from a shareholder on the right, with reddish hair, light eyelashes, a clipped moustache, and a scraped colour.

‘I have no objection whatever to having the Board in,' he said in a rather jeering voice, ‘and passing a vote of no confidence in their presence. There is a question, which no one has touched on, of how far, if we turn them out, we could make them liable for this loss. The matter is not clear, but there is a good sporting chance, if we like to take it. Whereas, if we don't turn them out, it's obvious we can't take it, even if we wish.'

The impression made by this speech was of quite a different order from any of the others. It was followed by a hush, as though something important had been said at last. Michael
stared at Mr Tolby. The stout man's round, light, rather prominent eyes were extraordinarily reflective. ‘Trout must look like that,' thought Michael, ‘when they see a mayfly.' Mr Tolby suddenly stood up.

‘All right,' he said, ‘'ave 'em in!'

‘Yes,' said the dead shareholder. There was no dissent. Michael saw someone rise and ascend the platform.

‘Let the Press know!' said Mr Tolby.

SOAMES AT BAY

W
HEN
the door had closed behind the departing directors, Soames sought a window as far as possible from the lunch eaten before the meeting.

‘Funeral baked meats, eh, Forsyte?' said a voice in his ear. ‘Our number's up, I think. Poor old Mothergill's looking very blue. I think he ought to ask for a second shirt!'

Soames's tenacity began wriggling within him.

‘The thing wants tackling,' he grumbled; ‘the chairman's not the man for the job!' Shades of old Uncle Jolyon! He would have made short work of this! It wanted a masterful hand.

‘Warning to us all, Forsyte, against loyalty! It's not in the period. Ah! Fontenoy!'

Soames became conscious of features rather above the level of his own.

‘Well, Mr Forsyte, hope you're satisfied? A pretty damned mess! If I'd been the chairman, I'd never have withdrawn. Always keep hounds under your eye, Mont. Take it off, and they'll go for you! Wish I could get among 'em with a whip; I'd give it those two heavy pug-faced chaps – they mean business! Unless you've got something up your sleeve, Mr Forsyte, we're dished.'

‘What should I have up my sleeve?' said Soames coldly.

‘Damn it, sir, you put the chestnuts in the fire, it's up to you to pull 'em out. I can't afford to lose these fees!'

Soames heard Sir Lawrence murmur: ‘Crude, my dear Fontenoy!' and said with malice:

‘You may lose more than your fees!'

‘Can't! They may have Eaglescourt tomorrow, and take a loss off my hands.' A gleam of feeling burned up suddenly in the old eyes: ‘The country drives you to the wall, skins you to the bone, and expects you to give 'em public service gratis. Can't be done, Mont – can't be done!'

Soames turned away; he had an utter disinclination for talk, like one standing before an open grave, watching a coffin slowly lowered. Here was his infallibility going – going! He had no illusions. It would all be in the papers, and his reputation for sound judgement gone for ever! Bitter! No more would the Forsytes say: ‘Soames says –' No more would old Gradman follow him with eyes like an old dog's, grudging sometimes, but ever submitting to infallibility. It would be a nasty jar for the old fellow. His business acquaintances – after all, they were not many, now! – would no longer stare with envious respect. He wondered if the reverberations would reach Dumetrius, and the picture market! The sole comfort was: Fleur needn't know. Fleur! Ah! If only her business were safely over! For a moment his mind became empty of all else. Then with a rush the present filled it up again. Why were they all talking as if there were a corpse in the room? Well! There was – the corpse of his infallibility! As for monetary loss – that seemed secondary, remote, incredible – like a future life. Mont had said something about loyalty. He didn't know what loyalty had to do with it! But if they thought he was going to show any white feather, they were extremely mistaken. Acid courage welled up into his brain. Shareholders, directors – they might howl and shake their fists; he was not going to be dictated to. He heard a voice say:

‘Will you come in, please, gentlemen?'

Taking his seat again before his unused quill, he noticed the silence – shareholders waiting for directors, directors for shareholders.
‘Wish I could get among 'em with a whip!' Extravagant words of that ‘old guinea-pig', but expressive, somehow!

At last the chairman, whose voice always reminded Soames of a raw salad with oil poured over it, said ironically:

‘Well, gentlemen, we await your pleasure.'

That stout, red-faced fellow, next to Michael, stood up, opening his pug's mouth.

‘To put it shortly, Mr Chairman, we're not at all satisfied; but before we take any resolution, we want to ‘ear what you've got to say.'

Just below Soames, someone jumped up and added:

‘We'd like to know, sir, what assurances you can offer us against anything of this sort in the future.'

Soames saw the chairman smile – no real backbone in that fellow!

‘In the nature of things, sir,' he said, ‘none whatever! You can hardly suppose that if we had known our manager was not worthy of our confidence, we should have continued him in the post for a moment!'

Soames thought: ‘That won't do – he's gone back on himself!' Yes, and that other pug-faced chap had seen it!

‘That's just the point, sir,' he was saying: ‘Two of you
did
know, and yet, there the fellow was for months afterwards, playin' 'is own 'and, cheatin' the Society for all he was worth, I shouldn't wonder.'

One after another, they were yelping now:

‘What about your own words?'

‘You admitted collective responsibility.'

‘You said you were perfectly satisfied with the attitude of your co-directors in the matter.' Regular pack!

Soames saw the chairman incline his head as if he wanted to shake it; old Fontenoy muttering, old Mothergill blowing his nose, Meyricke shrugged his sharp shoulders. Suddenly he was cut off from view of them – Sir Lawrence was standing up between.

‘Allow me a word! Speaking for myself, I find it impossible to accept the generous attempt of the chairman to shoulder a
responsibility which clearly rests on me. If I made a mistake of judgement in not disclosing our suspicions, I must pay the penalty; and I think it will clear the – er – situation if I tender my resignation to the meeting.'

Soames saw him give a little bow, place his monocle in his eye, and sit down.

A murmur greeted the words – approval, surprise, deprecation, admiration? It had been gallantly done. Soames distrusted gallantry – there was always a dash of the peacock about it. He felt curiously savage.

‘I, apparently,' he said, rising, ‘am the other incriminated director. Very good! I am not conscious of having done anything but my duty from beginning to end of this affair. I am confident that I made no mistake of judgement. And I consider it entirely unjust that I should be penalized. I have had worry and anxiety enough, without being made a scapegoat by shareholders who accepted this policy without a murmur, before ever I came on the Board, and are now angry because they have lost by it. You owe it to me that the policy has been dropped: you owe it to me that you have no longer a fraudulent person for a manager. And you owe it to me that you were called together today to pass judgement on the matter. I have no intention whatever of singing small. But there is another aspect to this affair. I am not prepared to go on giving my services to people who don't value them. I have no patience with the attitude displayed this afternoon. If anyone here thinks he has a grievance against me, let him bring an action. I shall be happy to carry it to the House of Lords, if necessary. I have been familiar with the City all my life, and I have not been in the habit of meeting with suspicions and ingratitude. If this is an instance of present manners, I have been familiar with the City long enough. I do not tender my resignation to the meeting; I resign.'

Bowing to the chairman, and pushing back his chair, he walked doggedly to the door, opened it and passed through.

He sought his hat. He had not the slightest doubt but that he had astonished their weak nerves! Those pug-faced fellows had their mouths open! He would have liked to see what he had left
behind, but it was hardly consistent with dignity to open the door again. He took a sandwich instead, and began to eat it with his back to the door and his hat on. He felt better than he had for months. A voice said:

‘“And the subsequent proceedings interested him no morel” I'd no idea, Forsyte, you were such an orator! You gave it 'em between the eyes! Never saw a meeting so knocked out! Well, you've saved the Board by focusing their resentment entirely on yourself. It was very gallant, Forsyte!'

Soames growled through his sandwich:

‘Nothing of the sort! Are you out, too?'

‘Yes. I pressed my resignation. That red-faced fellow was proposing a vote of confidence in the Board when I left – and they'll pass it, Forsyte – they'll pass it! Something was said about financial liability, by the way!'

‘Was there?' said Soames, with a grim smile: ‘That cock won't fight. Their only chance was to claim against the Board for initiating foreign assurance
ultra vires;
if they're re-affirming the Board, after the question's been raised in open meeting, they're dished. Nothing'll lie against you and me, for not disclosing our suspicions – that's certain.'

‘A relief, I confess,' said Sir Lawrence, with a sigh. ‘It was the speech of your life, Forsyte!'

Perfectly well aware of that, Soames shook his head. Apart from the horror of seeing himself in print, he was beginning to feel that he had been extravagant. It was always a mistake to lose your temper! A bitter little smile came on his lips. Nobody, not even Mont, would see how unjustly he had been treated.