"I say, Pilaster, your bank will be all right, won't it?" Danby said worriedly. "You must have quite a lot of these bonds. It was noised about that you hardly sold any of the Santamaria harbor issue."
Hugh hesitated. He hated to tell lies. But the truth would destroy the bank. "We've got more Cordovan bonds than I'd like, Danby. But we've got a lot of other assets as well."
"Good."
"I must get back to my guests." Hugh had no intention of going back to his guests, but he wanted to give an impression of calm. "I'm giving lunch to three hundred people--my sister got married this morning."
"So I heard. Congratulations."
"Good-bye."
Before he could ask for another number, Mulberry called again. "Mr. Cunliffe from the Colonial Bank is here, sir," he said, and Hugh could hear the panic in his voice. "He is asking for repayment of the loan."
"Damn him," Hugh said fervently. The Colonial had lent Pilasters a million pounds to tide them over the crisis, but the money was repayable on demand. Cunliffe had heard the news and seen the sudden slump in Cordova bonds, and he knew Pilasters must be in trouble. Naturally he wanted to get his money out before the bank went bust.
And he was only the first. Others would be close behind. Tomorrow morning depositors would be queuing outside the doors, wanting cash. And Hugh would not be able to pay them.
"Have we got a million pounds, Mulberry?"
"No, sir."
The weight of the world descended on Hugh's shoulders, and he felt old. This was the end. It was the banker's nightmare: people came for their money, and the bank did not have it. And it was happening to Hugh.
"Tell Mr. Cunliffe that you have been unable to get authorization to sign the cheque, because all the partners are at the wedding," he said.
"Very good, Mr. Hugh."
"And then ..."
"Yes, sir?"
Hugh paused. He knew he had no choice, but still he hesitated to say the dreadful words. He shut his eyes. Better get it over with.
"And then, Mulberry, you must close the doors of the bank."
"Oh, Mr. Hugh."
"I'm sorry, Mulberry."
There was an odd noise down the line, and Hugh realized that Mulberry was crying.
He put down the phone., Staring at the bookshelves of his library, he saw instead the grand facade of Pilasters Bank, and imagined the closing of the ornate iron doors. He saw passersby stop and look. Before long a crowd would gather, pointing at the closed doors and chattering excitedly. The word would go around the City faster than a fire in an oil store: Pilasters has crashed.
