"We have more than two million pounds' worth of Cordova bonds which are today valued at nothing. However, our other assets are substantial. A lot depends on how much we can raise by the sale of the partners' houses, and so on; but I estimate that even today the shortfall is only a million pounds."
"So the syndicate must expect to lose a million."
"Perhaps. But Cordova bonds may not be worthless forever. The rebels may be defeated. Or the new government may resume interest payments. At some point the price of Cordova bonds will rise."
"Possibly."
"If the bonds came up to just half their previous level, the syndicate would break even. And if they did better than that, the syndicate would actually make a profit."
Greenbourne shook his head. "It might work, but for those Santamaria harbor bonds. That Cordovan Minister, Miranda, strikes me as an out-and-out thief; and his father is apparently the leader of the rebels. My guess is that the whole two million pounds has gone to pay for guns and ammunition. In which case investors will never see a penny."
The old boy was as sharp as always, Hugh thought: he had exactly the same fear. "I'm afraid you may be right. All the same there's a chance. And if you allow a financial panic you're sure to lose money in other ways."
"It's an ingenious plan. You always were the cleverest of your family, young Pilaster."
"But the plan depends on you."
"Ah."
"If you agree to head the syndicate, the City will follow your lead. If you refuse to be part of it, the syndicate will not have the prestige to reassure creditors."
"I see that." Greenbourne was not the man for false modesty.
"Will you do it?" Hugh held his breath.
The old man was silent for several seconds, thinking, then he said firmly: "No, I won't."
Hugh slumped in his chair. It was his last shot and it had failed. He felt a great weariness descend on him, as if his life were over and he were a tired old man.
