Dynamiter — Prologue of the Cigar Divan (Part 1 of 4)

In the city of encounters, the Bagdad of the West, and, to be more precise, on the broad northern pavement of Leicester Square, two young men of five- or six-and-twenty met after years of separation. The first, who was of a very smooth address and clothed in the best fashion, hesitated to recognise the pinched and shabby air of his companion.

`What!' he cried, `Paul Somerset!'

`I am indeed Paul Somerset,' returned the other, `or what remains of him after a well-deserved experience of poverty and law. But in you, Challoner, I can perceive no change; and time may be said, without hyperbole, to write no wrinkle on your azure brow.'

`All,' replied Challoner, `is not gold that glitters. But we are here in an ill posture for confidences, and interrupt the movement of these ladies. Let us, if you please, find a more private corner.'

`If you will allow me to guide you,' replied Somerset, `I will offer you the best cigar in London.'

And taking the arm of his companion, he led him in silence and at a brisk pace to the door of a quiet establishment in Rupert Street, Soho. The entrance was adorned with one of those gigantic Highlanders of wood which have almost risen to the standing of antiquities; and across the window-glass, which sheltered the usual display of pipes, tobacco, and cigars, there ran the gilded legend: `Bohemian Cigar Divan, by T. Godall.' The interior of the shop was small, but commodious and ornate; the salesman grave, smiling, and urbane; and the two young men, each puffing a select regalia, had soon taken their places on a sofa of mouse-coloured plush and proceeded to exchange their stories.

`I am now,' said Somerset, `a barrister; but Providence and the attorneys have hitherto denied me the opportunity to shine. A select society at the Cheshire Cheese engaged my evenings; my afternoons, as Mr. Godall could testify, have been generally passed in this divan; and my mornings, I have taken the precaution to abbreviate by not rising before twelve. At this rate, my little patrimony was very rapidly, and I am proud to remember, most agreeably expended. Since then a gentleman, who has really nothing else to recommend him beyond the fact of being my maternal uncle, deals me the small sum of ten shillings a week; and if you behold me once more revisiting the glimpses of the street lamps in my favourite quarter, you will readily divine that I have come into a fortune.'

`I should not have supposed so,' replied Challoner. `But doubtless I met you on the way to your tailors.'

`It is a visit that I purpose to delay,' returned Somerset, with a smile. `My fortune has definite limits. It consists, or rather this morning it consisted, of one hundred pounds.'

`That is certainly odd,' said Challoner; `yes, certainly the coincidence is strange. I am myself reduced to the same margin.'

`You!' cried Somerset. `And yet Solomon in all his glory - '

`Such is the fact. I am, dear boy, on my last legs,' said Challoner. `Besides the clothes in which you see me, I have scarcely a decent trouser in my wardrobe; and if I knew how, I would this instant set about some sort of work or commerce. With a hundred pounds for capital, a man should push his way.'

`It may be,' returned Somerset; `but what to do with mine is more than I can fancy. Mr. Godall,' he added, addressing the salesman, `you are a man who knows the world: what can a young fellow of reasonable education do with a hundred pounds?'

`It depends,' replied the salesman, withdrawing his cheroot. `The power of money is an article of faith in which I profess myself a sceptic. A hundred pounds will with difficulty support you for a year; with somewhat more difficulty you may spend it in a night; and without any difficulty at all you may lose it in five minutes on the Stock Exchange. If you are of that stamp of man that rises, a penny would be as