The letter which reached me by return of post
surprised me not a little, although I had by this
time conceived very high notions of Mr. Alfred
Long's boldness in finance.  His epistle was long,
and took a very round-about way of coming to the
point: which vas to announce that he had been
for some six months in Whitecross-street prison
for debt, but that if I would favour him with
a call, he had no doubt that matters would
be explained entirely to my satisfaction.  To
Whitecross-street prison I accordingly went.
On my inquiring for Mr. Long, a corpulent
clerical looking man, aged about sixty, and with
the general appearance of an insolvent
archdeacon, came forward to greet me.  He did not
waste time, but plunged at once into business,
bringing forth piles upon piles of documents,
both written and printed, to prove that the new
gas scheme was beyond all doubt "the very
best thing" that had been brought forward by
any joint-stock company for many years, and
that all who took shares would be certain to
make their fortunes.  He told me a long story
how he had been arrested for "a mere trifle;
less than fifty pounds, sir," and how he hoped,
with a portion of the two hundred which I was
to advance, to set himself free, and, within a
week, to establish the "first-class Joint-stock
Company," with its three millions of capital.  To
this I objected that, under present circumstances,
I did not see my way clearly towards advancing
any money, and that before doing so I must
consult with friends who would no doubt object
to my taking any steps in the affair until I had
some knowledge as to the composition of the future
board of directors of the great gas company.
This, not very unreasonable, objection Mr. Long
met by asserting that the board was already
filled up, and that "some of the leading men in
the City, sir," were only waiting for him to say
he was ready, in order to lend their names at,
once to the scheme.  I suggested that it might
be better, perhaps, if some of these "leading
men in the City" were, among them, to advance
the two hundred pounds, and so release Mr.
Long from prison, as well as set the proposed
scheme on its legs.  To capitalists like them, I
urged, the loss of a couple of hundred pounds
amongst them would be a mere nothing, whereas
to a very poor man like me it would be almost
ruin.  But Mr. Long did not see things in that
light.  He said I did not understand these sort
of affairs, that it would never do for him to ask
these leading City men for the insignificant sum
of two hundred pounds, and that I was decidedly
standing in my own light by not risking so little
to gain so much.  He ended by saying, if I
could not lay my hand on the money at once,
my "acceptance at three months" would do
nearly as well, for he could get it discounted
through a friend of his.  But I objected that I
never wrote my name across stamped paper, and
upon that we parted.

Mr. Alfred Long was the first "promoter"
with whom I became acquainted, and he was
not the least singular man I have met, in his
notions as to the way of getting up a "first-
class Joint-stock Company."  I don't think
he was altogether dishonest, although certainly
not the sort of person I would name in my
will as trustee for my widow and children.
He seemed to have talked and written himself
into a belief of his own falsehoods, and to have
an idea that the rest of the world was as easy to
deceive. I have never seen or heard more of
Mr. Alfred Long.  We parted good enough
friends, though he warned me that I would repent
having thrown such a chance away.  However,
I have not yet seen his gas company advertised
in the Times, although it is not long since I
thought I recognised, under different initials,
the advertisement that a secretary for a "first-
class Joint-stock Company" was still wanted.

"If you really want to get the secretaryship
of a public company," said a friend of mine, who
is a merchant in the City, "I'll introduce you
to Mr. Hunter: a most respectable man, who is
a promoter of new schemes.  He is sure to
have something on hand that will suit you, and
I have no doubt that you and he can come
to terms."  My friend was himself far too
honourable a man to have anything to do with
those who were otherwise, so I thankfully
accepted his offer, and was introduced to
Mr. Hunter: whose profession, as my introducer
told me, was that of a "promoter," but
who was a very different sort of person from
my acquaintance in Whitecross-street.  Mr.
Hunter had an office of his own. It is true the
said office—situated in a dismal dingy court
somewhere behind Austin Friars—consisted of
only one room, and that room up three steep
flights of stairs; nevertheless it was an office,
in which was a clerk—age, I should say, about
fourteen years—and in both his clerk and his
office Mr. Hunter seemed to take great pride.
He could not talk on any subject for five consecutive
minutes, without mentioning either
"my clerk" or "my office: " though he appeared
to make little or no use of the one, and
to confine himself not more than forty minutes,
during the whole working hours of the day, to
the other.

Although Mr. Hunter was by profession and
calling a "promoter," I don't think he made
much by his proposed schemes.  One of three
things seemed always to happen to him:
either he could not get together directors enough
to bring out a new company; or else he got too
many, and could not get rid of some without
offending them; or, at the eleventh hour some
other person got hold of his scheme, and brought
it out, as he used to lament, "over my head,
sir."  Thus, the idea of the "Anglican Gallic
and German Bank (limited)," had originated
with this unfortunate gentleman.  He it was
who worked out the plan for months, and just
as he had got a board of good men together, a
treacherous friend saw the prospectus of the
proposed bank, changed its name to the "Eng-
lish, French, and Saxon Banking Corporation
(limited)," got a board of directors, solicitors,
bankers, brokers, and secretary, together in a
single forenoon, brought out the affair next day