“What do you know?” Neddie reached unconsciously for his clay pipe, and felt in his pockets for a pouch of tobacco. Lizzy took the pipe from his hand without a word and set it aside.

“I know nothing at all, I assure you,” Henry protested, “—but I might suggest a good deal. Grey is certainly involved in a very deep game, as the Comte has observed. Did you learn nothing from the state of his household?”

“The Larches? I thought it charming.”

Henry snorted. “Charming. Perhaps it was. But I should very much like to know, brother, what sort of difficulties the man has incurred, and how he hopes to extricate himself without the most public scandal!”

“Scandal?” Lizzy echoed. “I should have thought the murder of his wife scandal enough for the present.”

“I refer to the conduct of Mr. Grey's business,” Henry retorted. “I had not spent above an hour at The Larches, before I knew that his firm is extended to the breaking point.”

“How can you say so?” I enquired. “Certainly Mr. Grey maintains a considerable estate. The maintenance of the grounds at least must exact a fortune. But his circumstances appeared quite easy.”

“And yet he employs no housemaids,” Henry observed. “Mrs. Bastable is required to perform the slightest office. The condition of the stables, moreover, is appalling — the boxes have not been mucked out since Mrs. Grey's death. When I enquired as to the cause, I was told that the master had refused an order for bedding, and turned away the better part of the stable lads. As a result, it was impossible to discover anything of Julian Sothey's assignation with an unknown lady in the stable-yard. No one with the slightest pretension to knowledge had been retained in service.”

“Such a dismissal of staff might be very much to Mr. Grey's purpose, did he intend the sale of Mrs. Grey's string,” I argued, “but I cannot see how it reveals his circumstances to be hopeless.”

“Have you any idea of the quality of the blood in Grey's stables? It will be the sale of the decade. He stands to make thousands of pounds. And from the look of things, I should say that he is desperate for funds.”

“Perhaps he cannot bear to be reminded of his wife's passion for horseflesh,” Lizzy observed, “and merely hopes to dispose of her stock in the most efficacious manner possible. I see nothing of scandal in this.”

“Then perhaps the London papers shall convince you.” Henry tossed the Times onto the sofa beside us. “Examine the notice at the bottom of page three, I beg. It concerns Mr. Grey closely.”

Neddie, Lizzy, and I bent our heads over the sheet, and endeavoured to make it out.

” 'Dutch banks fail to back French securities' “I read slowly.” 'Government loans feared in default.”

“Read on,” Henry said.

” 'The Secretary of the Treasury, Mr. Pitt, is gravely concerned by yesterday's decision on the part of the House of Hope, Scots bankers resident in Amsterdam, to refuse the French government further security.[52] While the confusion of our enemies is devoutly to be wished, in the halls of commerce as well as on the battlefield, the delicate state of the Imperial treasury must threaten relations of finance throughout Europe, and devolve to this kingdom's ultimate disadvantage. In light of this consideration, Mr. Pitt has sent an envoy to Amsterdam for consultation.' “

I raised my head from the broadsheet. “And how might Mr. Pitt's conduct of business concern Mr. Grey, Henry?”

He rolled his eyes in impatience. “Grey is allied to a French banking family, Jane, and his resources must in part be theirs. If Buonaparte has gone to Amsterdam for credit, and been denied by so great a house as Hope, then we must assume that the French banking establishment has exhausted its capital. Furthermore, the government itself can offer nothing as security for its desired loan— or nothing that Hope will accept. The Comte de Penfleur must be aware of that much. As to what else he knows or suspects, I cannot say.”

“You believe Grey to have invested heavily in the French government, at the behest of his wife — funds that Buonaparte has presently exhausted?” Neddie demanded.

Henry shrugged helplessly. “Who can say? But if Grey's stables appear so neglected, only consider the state of the Emperor's!”

“But Buonaparte has a stranglehold on much of Europe,” I cried, in disbelief. “Surely he might plunder any number of coffers.”

Henry hesitated, then shrugged. “I cannot undertake to say. I have heard rumours in the City that the French government is bankrupt, but I dismissed such talk as a mixture of bluster and hope. I can dismiss it no more.”[53]

“The French, bankrupt?” Lizzy's voice was a study in disbelief. “But I have seen the plates of the Empress's coronation gown, Henry. She did not appear in rags, I assure you.”

“The cost of the coronation, and the building of some two thousand ships, might well beggar a greater nation than France. Add to all this, the maintenance of an army left standing nearly two years along the coast, in readiness for a Channel crossing; the necessity of defending a far-flung border; and the spirit of excess that has animated the French court now these many months — and I think you may look for a bankrupt quite easily.”

“It is something,” I mused, “that the Monster should ruin himself with England as his object. All of Europe must thank us for the issue; and I for one shall wish Buonaparte thrown into a debtor's gaol. But, Henry— if Buonaparte is bankrupt, the war must be very soon at an end! Only think what that might mean for our brothers!”

“An end to all advancement up the Navy list,” Henry said brutally.[54] “But do not be so hasty, Jane, to dismiss His Imperial Majesty. Buonaparte has saved himself a thousand times before, and in far worse circumstances.”

“Perhaps he looks to improve his fortunes through an assault on the Bank of England,” Neddie said idly.

“Perhaps.” Something of heat had died out of Henry's countenance, and been replaced by an expression of care. “I dearly wish that we knew how it was. I fear I shall have to desert you tomorrow, and return to Town.”

“Sunday travel, Henry?” I teazed. “You have lived too long with the Comtesse Eliza, and her careless regard for propriety.”

“Go to Town, in August?” Neddie cried. “Surely nothing can be so serious as that!”

“Mr. Pitt certainly believes so. This news will already have affected the 'Change; securities will be all a-hoo by Monday morning, and every man of finance intent upon reading the world's tea-leaves. I dare not linger another day.”

I rose and extended my hand to my favourite brother. “It seems that Mr. Pitt knows what he is about. I expect you shall be off before dawn — but pray send us word, Henry, if any whisper of Mr. Grey's perilous affairs should reach your ears.”

“I should never fail you in a matter of gossip, Jane,” he returned, with something like his usual charm; and so we parted.