The Sphinx, Vol. 13, No. 183

              December 9th
THE SPHINX
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questions he may think fit to ask. I believe you have met M r Chanter before ?”
“Yes. Forty-two years ago.”
“Then he will no doubt recollect the circumstance,and I shall have less diffidence in approaching him regarding a second interview. Would eleven o’clock to-morrow be convenient for you ?” “Yes, if it is equally so for Mr. Chanter.”
“I shall make it my task to discover that, and should a postponement be necessary I shall communicate with you.”
The manager rose to his feet and the conference came to an inconclusive end.
At eleven o’clock on Wednesday Mr. John Glen was ushered into the presence of Mr. Chanter. Two other persons were present—the son and old Venebles, the confidential secretary. It is probable John Glen would have preferred to talk to Mr. Chanter alone, but he made no suggestion that the others should withdraw, knowing the futility of contravening any of the established regulations of the house.
“Good-morning, Mr. Glen. We have met before, I think, and neither of us has become any younger since that time, which is something to be thankful for. This is my son, Mr. Glen. He is seven years older than I was at the time I had the pleasure of greeting you on a former occasion, and 1 am glad to sav he has a very thorough knowledge of the business. My manager tells me that you saw him yesterday pursuant to an arrangement with which he feels some delicacy in dealing. Would you be seated, Mr. Glen, and put me in possession of the particulars ?”
John Glen sat down in a chair beside the table with young Mr. Chanter on the opposite side, while his father took his place at the head, old Venebles standing deferentially at his elbow.
“I am now an old man,” began John Glen, slowly, but Mr. Chanter interrupted him.
“Not old, Mr. Glen, not old. Getting on in years, perhaps ; eh, Venebles I”
“Getting on in years, sir,” efchoed Venebles.
“I have accumulated a respectable competence, and I have no direct heir to whom I can leave the money, for I never married. Others will benefit largely by my death, and to that, of course, 1 make no objection ; it is the law of nature. Still at the present moment the money is mine, and I think I am justified in disposing of it as I choose, although my present intentions relate to but a small portion of the amount.”
“No exception can be taken to that, Mr.Glen. A man may do as he likes with his own, eh, Venebles ?”
“Yes, sir, so long as his action makes no infringement on the rights of others.”
“Quite so Venebles, quite so. You are in the right. Go on, Mr. Glen ’
“I wish, then, to set aside the sum of ten thousand pounds to remainon deposit in Chanter’s Bank ; an account to be kept separate from my own personal balance.”
“Urn, yes,” mnrmured Mr. Chanter with some hesitation, “I am aware that various trading companies keep different accounts at the same bank under different titles, but it has always seemed to me there was something not quite— what shall I say ?—well, straightforward in such a course. Still, for sufficient reason and to oblige
a customer of forty-two years’ standing---V hat
do you think, Venebles?’
“It could be done, sir, not improperly. John Glen, No. 1 ; John Glen, No. 2. Or John Glen and Co. and John Glen, private account, sir. “Yes, I see no objection, Mr. Glen.”
“I have not made myself sufficiently clear, continued John Glen, with visible effort. “The ten thousand pounds is not to be placed to my account, either public or private. It is not to be placed to anyone’s account. It is to be separated completely and legally from my estate and held on deposit in Chanter’s Bank until such time after my death as it is called for.”
“I see, I see. You will leave with us the name of the person who is entitled to the money ; eh, Venebles 1”
“We should certainly be in possession of the name and full particulars, sir. To prevent a mistake in identity, sir.”
“Undoubtedly. Proceed, Mr. Glen.”
“I am sorry that T cannot fulfil such a requirement, Mr. Chanter. 1 will risk the mistake in identity. I wish the bank to take no responsibility whatever.”
“But if we receive the money we must accept the responsibility that pertains to it ; eh Venebles ?”
“Undoubtedly, sir.”
“I could give you a document waiving all rights
in the premises, but even that would not be necessary, for the money will be placed unreservedly in your own hands during my competence to deal with it, and, as I should no longer be in life when you disposed of it, there could be none to find fault.”
“A most unusual proceeding, Mr. Glen. How does it strike you, Venebles?”
“Most unusual, sir.”
“I make a note of my surprise and pass on, Mr. Glen. We will return to that lettei. How do vou propose that we shall recognise the person to whom the money is to be paid ?”
“It is my wish that you will give the sum of ten thousand pounds to any man, hoy, or child who comes to your counter and asks for it, giving you the word, ‘Reincarnation.’ ”
“What ! What ! What ! To pay out such an amount of money without the stroke of a pen — without a voucher to shew for it-—-to any person who pops in off the street and gives a word I do not recognise as being in the vocabulary of a business man. I never heard of such athing. Did you, Venebles ?”
“Never sir-” Although the old man’s words were automatically decisive his manner had become suddenly absent-minded.
“It is absolutely unprecedented ; eh, Venebles ?” v
Bat for once old Venebles did not reply. His master turned to him in amazed disapproval. The old man’s jaw had dropped ; his eyes were fixed on a corner of the room as if he saw a ghost in its dim recess.
“Did you hear me address you, Venebles ?” The ancient secretary started from his reverie. “I humbly beg our pardon, sir. Would kindly repeat what you said, sir 1”
“I made the remark that the course proposed to us was absolutely without precedent.”
“T—I should hesitate to go so far as to say that, sir.”
“What do you mean, Venebles?”
“If I may make so bold as to suggest, Mr.
Chanter-----” The old man hesitated, fearing to
venture further.
“Make your suggestion, Venebles,” said his master, kindly.
“I think it might be well to leave the subject in abeyance for the moment. Perhaps Air. Glen would be good enough to call again. I should like to have the privilege of placing one or two matters befoie you, Mr. Chanter, which I think may aid you in coming to a decision.”
John Glen exhibited some agitation at this disappointment. He trembled nervously, and for a time his efforts to speak were in vain.
“I trust your decision is not final, Mr. Chanter,” he protested when he had recovered himself. “The suggestion made seems to me very good one. I have been for forty-two years a customer of this bank, and I should be glad if you took that fact into consideration before coming to a definite conclusion.”
“The point you mention is certainly not without weight with me, and I myself referred to it only a few moments ago, but really, Mr. Glen, the request you make is so—I am distressed to use a harsh term—fantastic that I scarcely know how to deal with it. Would you be good enough to give 7ne some rational explanation for a proceeding which I cannot help regarding as out of the common ? I think we are entitled to ask that Venebles ?”
“Assuredly, sir.”
“I am afraid, Mr. Chanter, that my explanation will not come within the limit of your word, ‘rational.’ I have some fear that it may leave my case worse than at the beginning. May I ask if you have ever had a mental suspicion that you formerly conducted this business—that the precincts of this bank were not new to you even when apparently you entered it for the first time ?”
“I can never imagine myself behind anywhere but in the bank all my life, if that is what you mean.”
“Not exactly. I mean in a former life. I have always been haunted by that feeling—that London is not new to me —that I have engaged in traffic here perhaps centuries ago.”
Mr. Chanter’s countenance shewed traces of alarm. He looked round at Venebles, but said nothing. Venebles was gazing fixedly at John Glen.
“And I am thoroughly convinced I shall reappear upon the scene—re-engage in the struggle. I shall be a child, a boy, a young man in London again, I am anxious, to smooth my way, to avoid in future the severe contest with fortune which I came through in my past youth owing to lack
of funds at the beginning. I have a hope that I shall remember the word I have given you which is at present so deeply stamped upon mind ; it may become obliterated later in life, but at first I think it will be there, and this is why I make the proviso that a child may claim the money and have it put to his credit, to be drawn upon when he becomes of age. The chance, I admit, is remote, but I am anxious to lay aside ten thousand pounds on the bare possibility.”
For some time after John Glen finished his recital there was silence in the room, and when Mr. Chanter spoke it was with a hesitation alien to him.
“Your beliefs—if I have understood you—are not in accordance with the tenets—of the—ah—• Established Church, Mr. Glen. What’s your opinion, Venebles?”
“They are not, sir.”
“I think perhaps we had better postpone this discussion as has been suggested. May I say eleven o’clock to-morrow morning, Mr. Glen ?”
“I am very much obliged to you Mr Chanter.” “Then Thursday at eleven.”
Mr. Chanter rose slowly, his manner and action duplicated by his son. Old Venebles opened the door, and the three inclined their heads as Mr. John Glen tottered out.
The final conference began punctually as the clock was striking eleven. John Glen found father and son seated at the table in their former positions. Venebles standing at the elbow of the elder man. On the table had been placed two bulky volumes, strongly bound in stout faded leather, thickly ribbed at the backs. These tomes gave forth a musty odour that was distinctly noticeable when one entered the room. A slip of papermark-ed a place in each book. When John Glen had seated himself Mr. Chanter began to speak.
“I may say at once that I have resolved to accede to your request. I find myself impelled to do so by precedents which had eluded my memory when you were here yesterday. I am about to take an unusual course after deep deliberation, and that is to expose to a comparative stranger a partial glimpse of the house’s history. I need not say that I expect the disclosure to be treated in the strictest confidence.”
John Glen bowed, and Mr. Chanter opened the first volume at the page indicated by the slip of paper.
“I find in the records of the bank that on April 21st, 1679, at three o’clock in the afternoon, Sir William Abswieh died, leaving by will a large package to my ancestor, the then head of this, house. The bequeathed package was found to contain bar gold to the estimated value of £ 3,247 15s. 9d. My ancestor was instructed to hold this bullion in sacred trust and to deliver it to any person who asked for it, giving the word “Abswieh.” I may add that this gold is in our vaults to day.”
Mr. Chanter closed the huge volume with a snap that sent fine dust flying,
“From my ancestor’s private note regarding this entry, which is very laconic, I surmise rather than possess assurance that he accepted the trust with reluctance, but Sir William being dead and not to be expostulated with the trust was accepted. I now come up to the year 1765. I find that a London merchant named James God fry gave the sum of £7,250 to Chanter’s Bank under almost similar conditions, the word in that case being ‘Futurity.’ The note under this entry is as follows : ‘See bequest of Sir William Ab-swich, April, 1679,’ which I take to mean that the former transaction was looked upon as a precedent. This treasure also has never been asked for.”
Mr. Chanter looked up from the second volume and saw John Glenleaning partly upright against the table, with staring eyes fixed on the two records, labouring under intense excitement.
“That money was for me,” he gasped. “The bullion and the coin were for me, lying here useless while I struggled with adversity. It was mine.”
“No, no, Mr. Glen. I cannot admit the truth of such an assumption. I shall resist any attempt on your part to profit by a confidence reposed in
you. I may add that-----
“I have no need for the money. No attempt shall be made by me. I am horrified by the appalling-----”
John Glen got no further. He swayed and fell, anti died before one of the three could move to his assistance.
[The end.]