The Red Room - August Strindberg (best summer reads TXT) 📗

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 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!”

“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 banknotes? If there were, what about private banknotes?”

“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 banknotes!”

“Good Lord in Heaven! Banknotes? 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 banknotes.”

“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 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 percent. 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