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Red Room, The

<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> <h3>MARINE INSURANCE SOCIETY "TRITON"</h3> Levi was a young man born and educated for business and on the point of establishing himself with the assistance of his wealthy father, when the latter died, leaving nothing but a family totally unprovided for. This was a great disappointment to the young man; he had reached an age when he considered that he might stop working altogether and let others toil for him. He was twenty-five and of good appearance. Broad-shouldered and lean in the flank, his body seemed specially adapted for wearing a frock-coat in the manner which he had much admired in certain foreign diplomatists. Nature had arched his chest in the most elegant fashion, so that he was capable of setting off to the fullest advantage a four-buttoned shirt front, even in the very act of sinking into an easy chair at the foot of a long Board-table occupied by the whole Administrative Committee. A beautiful beard, parted in the middle, gave his young face a sympathetic and trustworthy expression; his small feet were made for walking on the Brussels carpet of a Board-room, and his carefully manicured hands were particularly suitable for very light work, such as the signing of his name, preferably on a printed circular. In the days which are now called the good days, although in reality they were very bad ones for a good many people, the greatest discovery of a great century was made, namely, that one could live more cheaply and better on other people's money than on the results of one's own efforts. Many, a great many,[136] people had taken advantage of the discovery, and as no patent law protected it, it was not surprising that Levi should be anxious to profit by it, too, more particularly as he had no money himself and no inclination to work for a family which was not his own. He, therefore, put on his best suit one day and called on his uncle Smith. "Oh, indeed! You have an idea," said Smith, "Let's hear it! It's a good thing to have ideas!" "I have been thinking of floating a joint stock company." "Very good. Aaron will be treasurer, Simon secretary, Isaac cashier, and the other boys book-keepers; it's a good idea! Go on! What sort of a company is it going to be?" "I'm thinking of a marine insurance society." "Indeed! So far so good; everybody has to insure his property when he goes on a voyage. But your idea?" "This is my idea." "I don't think much of it. We have the big society 'Neptune.' It's a good society. Yours would have to be better if you intend to compete with it. What would be the novelty in your society?" "Oh! I understand! I should reduce the premiums and all the patrons of the 'Neptune' would come to me." "That's better! Very well, then, the prospectus which I would print would begin in this way: 'As the crying need of reducing the marine insurance premiums has long been felt, and it is only owing to the want of competition that it has not yet been done, we, the undersigned, beg to invite the public to take up shares in the new society.... What name?" "Triton." "Triton? What sort of a chap was he?" "He was a sea-god." "All right, Triton. It will make a good poster! You can order it from Ranch in Berlin, and we will[137] reproduce it in my almanac 'Our Country.' Now for the undersigned. First, of course, my name. We must have big, well-sounding names. Give me the official almanac." Smith turned over the leaves for some time. "A marine insurance company must have a naval officer of high rank. Let me see! An admiral." "Oh! Those sort of people have no money!" "Bless me! You don't know much about business, my boy! They are only wanted to subscribe, not to pay up! And they receive their dividends for attending the meetings and being present at the directors' dinners! Here we have two admirals; one of them has the Commander's Ribbon of the Polar Star, and the other one has the Russian Order of Anna. What shall we do? I think we had better take the Russian, for there is splendid marine insurance ground in Russia.... There!" "But is it such a simple matter to get hold of these people?" "Tut, tut! Next we want a retired minister of State! Yes! Well! They are called Your Excellency! Yes! Good. And a Count! That's more difficult! Counts have lots of money! And we must have a professor! They have no money! Is there such a thing as a Professor of Navigation? That would be a capital thing for our venture! Isn't there a School of Navigation somewhere near the South Theatre? Yes? Very well! Everything is as clear as possible to me. Oh! I nearly forgot the most important point. We must have a legal man! A counsellor of a high court. Here he is!" "But we have no money yet!" "Money? What's the use of money in company promoting? Doesn't the man who insures his goods pay us money? What? Or do we pay him? No! Well then, he pays with his premiums." "But the original capital?" "One issues debentures!" "True, but there must be some cash!" [138] "One pays cash in debentures! Isn't that paying? Supposing I gave you a cheque for a sum, any bank would cash it for you. Therefore, a cheque is money. Very well! And is there a law which ordains that cash shall mean bank-notes? If there were, what about private bank-notes?" "How large should the capital be?" "Very small! It's bad business to tie up large sums. A million! Three hundred thousand in cash and the remainder in debentures." "But—but—but! The three hundred thousand crowns surely must be in bank-notes!" "Good Lord in Heaven! Bank-notes? Notes are money! If you have notes, well and good; if you haven't, it comes to the same thing. Therefore, we must interest the small capitalists, who have nothing but bank-notes." "And the big ones? How do they pay?" "In shares, debenture guarantees, of course. But that will be a matter for later on. Get them to subscribe, and we'll see to the rest." "And only three hundred thousand? One single great steamer costs as much. Supposing we insured a thousand steamers?" "A thousand? Last year the 'Neptune' issued forty-eight thousand insurance policies, and did well out of it." "All the worse, I say! But if—but if—matters should go wrong...." "One goes into liquidation!" "Liquidation?" "Declares oneself insolvent! That's the proper term. And what does it matter if the society becomes insolvent? It isn't you, or I, or he! But one can also increase the number of shares, or issue debentures which the Government may buy up in hard times at a good price." "There's no risk then?" "Not the slightest! Besides what have you got to lose? Do you possess one farthing? No! Very[139] well then! What do I risk? Five hundred crowns! I shall only take five shares, you see! And five hundred is as much as this to me!" He took a pinch of snuff and the matter was settled. The society was floated and during the first ten years of its activity it paid 6, 10, 10, 11, 20, 11, 5, 10, 36, and 20 per cent. The shares were eagerly bought up, and, in order to enlarge the business, more shares were issued; the new issue of shares was followed by a general meeting of shareholders; Falk was sent to report it for the Red Cap, whose assistant reporter he was. When, on a sunny afternoon in June, he entered the Exchange, the hall was already crowded with people. It was a brilliant assembly. Statesmen, geniuses, men of letters, officers, and civil service men of high rank; uniforms, dress-coats, orders, and ribbons; all those here assembled had one big general interest! The advancement of the philanthropic institution called marine insurance. It required a great love to risk one's money for the benefit of the suffering neighbour whom misfortune had befallen, but here was love! Falk had never seen such an accumulation of it in one spot. Although not yet an entirely disillusioned man, he could not suppress a feeling of amazement. But he was even more amazed when he noticed the little blackguard Struve, the former Socialist, creeping through the crowd like a reptile, greeted, and sometimes addressed by distinguished people with a familiar nod, a pressure of the hand or a friendly slap on the shoulder. He saw a middle-aged man, wearing a ribbon belonging to a high order, nodding to him, and he noticed that Struve blushed and concealed himself behind an embroidered coat. This brought him into Falk's vicinity, and the latter immediately accosted him and asked him who the man was. Struve's embarrassment increased, but[140] summoning up all his impudence, he replied, "You ought to know that! He's the president of the Board of Payment of Employ�s' Salaries." No sooner had the words left his lips than he pretended to be called to the other side of the room; but he was in so great a hurry that Falk wondered whether he felt uncomfortable in his society? A blackguard in the company of an honourable man! The brilliant assembly began to be seated. But the president's chair was still vacant. Falk was looking for the reporter's table, and when he discovered Struve and the reporter for the Conservative sitting at a table on the right-hand side of the secretary he took his courage into his hands and marched through the distinguished crowd; just as he had reached the table, the secretary stopped him with a question. "For which paper?" he asked. A momentary silence ensued. "For the Red Cap," answered Falk, with a slight tremor in his voice; he had recognized in the secretary the actuary of the Board of Payment of Employ�s' Salaries. A half-stifled murmur ran through the room; presently the secretary said in a loud voice: "Your place is at the back, over there!" He pointed to the door and a small table standing close to it. Falk realized in a moment the significance of the word "Conservative," and also what it meant to be a journalist who was not a Conservative. Boiling inwardly he retraced his footsteps, walking to his appointed place through the sneering crowd; he stared at the grinning faces, challenging them with burning eyes, when his glance met another glance, quite in the background, close to the wall. The eyes, bearing a strong resemblance to a pair of eyes now closed in death, which used to rest on his face full of love, were green with malice and pierced him like a needle; he could have shed tears of sorrow at the thought that a brother could thus look at a brother. He took his modest place near the door, for he was determined not to beat a retreat. Very soon he was[141] roused from his apparent calm by a newcomer who prodded him in the back as he took off his coat and shoved a pair of rubber overshoes underneath his chair. The newcomer was greeted by the whole assembly which rose from their seats as one man. He was the chairman of the Marine Insurance Society Limited "Triton," but he was something else beside this. He was a retired district-marshal, a baron, one of the eighteen of the Swedish Academy, an Excellency, a knight of many orders, etc. etc. A rap with the hammer and amid dead silence the president whispered the following oration: just delivered by him at a meeting of the Coal Company Limited, in the hall of the Polytechnic. "Gentlemen! Amongst all the patriotic and philanthropic enterprises there are few—if any—of such a noble and beneficial nature as an Insurance Society." This statement was received with a unanimous "Hear! hear!" which, however, made no impression on the district-marshal. "What else is life but a struggle, a life and death struggle, one might say, with the forces of Nature! There will be few among us who do not, sooner or later, come into conflict with them." "Hear! hear!" "For long ages man, more especially primitive man, has been the sport of the elements; a ball tossed hither and thither, a glove blown here and there by the wind like a reed. This is no longer the case. I'm correct in saying it is not. Man has determined to rebel; it is a bloodless rebellion, though, and very different to the revolutions which dishonourable traitors to their country have now and again stirred up against their lawful rulers. No! gentlemen! I'm speaking of a revolution against nature! Man has declared war to the natural forces; he has said, 'Thus far shalt thou go and no farther!'" "Hear! hear!" and clapping of hands. "The merchant sends out his steamer, his brig, his[142] schooner, his barge, his yacht, and so forth. The gale breaks the vessel to pieces. 'Break away!' says the merchant, for he loses nothing. This is the great aspect of the insurance idea. Imagine the position, gentlemen! The merchant has declared war upon the storms of heaven—and the merchant has won the day!" A storm of applause brought a triumphant smile to the face of the great man; he seemed thoroughly to enjoy this storm. "But, gentlemen, do not let us call an Insurance Institution a business. It is not a business; we are not business men. Far from it! We have collected a sum of money and we are ready to risk it. Is this not so, gentlemen?" "Yes, yes!" "We have collected a sum of money so as to have it ready to hand over to him whom misfortune has befallen; his percentage—I think he pays 1 per cent.—cannot be called a contribution; it is called a premium, and rightly so. Not that we want any sort of reward—premium means reward—for our little services, which we merely render because we are interested—as far as I am concerned it is purely for this reason. I repeat, I don't think—there can be any question that any one in our midst would hesitate—I don't think that one of us would mind seeing his contribution, if I may be allowed to call the shares by that name, used for the furtherance of the idea." "No! No!" "I will now ask the Managing Director to read the annual report." The director rose. He looked as pale as if he had been through a storm; his big cuffs with the onyx studs could hardly hide the slight trembling of his hand; his cunning eyes sought comfort and strength in Smith's bearded face; he opened his coat and his expansive shirt front swelled as if it were ready to receive a shower of arrows—and read:[143] "Truly, strange and unexpected are the ways of Providence...." At the word Providence a considerable number of faces blanched, but the district-marshal raised his eyes towards the ceiling as if he were prepared for the worst (a loss of two hundred crowns). "The year which we have just completed will long stand in our annals like a cross on the grave of the accidents which have brought to scorn the foresight of the wisest and the calculations of the most cautious." The district-marshal buried his face in his hands as if he were praying. Struve, believing that the white wall dazzled his eyes, jumped up to pull down the blind, but the secretary had already forestalled him. The reader drank a glass of water. This caused an outburst of impatience. "To business! Figures!" The district-marshal removed his hand from his eyes and was taken aback when he found that it was so much darker than it had been before. There was a momentary embarrassment and the storm gathered. All respect was forgotten. "To business! Go on!" The director skipped the preliminary banalities, and plunged right into the heart of the matter. "Very well, gentlemen, I will cut my speech short!" "Go on! Go on! Why the devil don't you?" The hammer fell. "Gentlemen!" There was so much dignity in this brief "Gentlemen" that the assembly immediately remembered their self-respect. "The Society has been responsible during the year for one hundred and sixty-nine millions." "Hear! hear!" "And has received a million and a half in premiums." "Hear! hear!" Falk made a hasty calculation and found that if the full receipts in premiums, namely, one million and a half, and the total original capital, one million, were[144] deducted, there remained about one hundred and sixty-six millions for which the society was responsible. He realized what "the ways of Providence" meant. "Unfortunately the amount paid on policies was one million seven hundred and twenty-eight thousand six hundred and seventy crowns and eight �re." "Shame!" "As you see, gentlemen, Providence...." "Leave Providence alone! Figures! Figures! Dividends!" "Under the circumstances I can only propose, in my capacity as Managing Director, a dividend of 5 per cent. on the paid-up capital." Now a storm burst out which no merchant in the world could have weathered. "Shame! Impudence! Swindler! Five per cent! Disgusting! It's throwing one's money away!" But there were also a few more philanthropic utterances, such as: "What about the poor, small capitalists who have nothing but their dividends to live on? How'll they manage? Mercy on us, what a misfortune! The State ought to help, and without delay! Oh dear! Oh dear!" When the storm had subsided a little and the director could make his voice heard, he read out the high praise given by the Supervisory Committee to the Managing Director and all the employ�s who, without sparing themselves, and with indefatigable zeal, had done the thankless work. The statement was received with open scorn. The report of the accountants was then read. They stated—after again censuring Providence—that they had found all the books in good—not to say excellent—order, and in checking the inventory all debentures on the reserve fund had been found correct (!) They therefore called upon the shareholders to discharge the directors and acknowledge their honest and unremitting labour. The directors were, of course, discharged.[145] The Managing Director then declared that under the circumstances he could not think of accepting his bonus (a hundred crowns) and handed it to the reserve fund. This declaration was received with applause and laughter. After a short evening prayer, that is to say a humble petition to Providence that next year's dividend might be 20 per cent., the district-marshal closed the proceedings.[146] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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