He went on in that vein, and Eliza dodged him elaborately, and they parted ways.
But two hours later they were together again. This time Gomer Bolstrood was with them.
ACOUPLE OF MILES NORTH of the Hague, the flat polder-land of the Dutch Republic was sliced off by the sea-coast. A line of dunes provided a meager weather-wall. Sheltering behind it, running parallel to the coast, was a strip of land, frequently wooded, but not wilderness, for it had been improved with roads and canals. In that belt of green had grown up diverse estates: the country retreats of nobles and merchants. Each had a proper house with a formal garden. The bigger ones also had wooded game-parks, and hunting-lodges where men could seek refuge from their women.
Eliza still knew little about Gomer Bolstrood and his scheme; but it was obvious enough that he was in league with some merchant or other, who was the owner of one such estate, and that he had gotten permission to use the hunting-lodge as a pied-a-terre. A canal ran along one side of the game-park and connected it-if you knew which turns to take-to the Haagsche Bos, that large park next to the Binnenhof. The distance was several miles, and so it might have been a morning’s or an afternoon’s journey in the summer. But when ice was on the canals, and skates were on the traveler’s feet, it could be accomplished in very little time.
Thus Monmouth had arrived, by himself, incognito. He was seated on the chair that Bolstrood had likened to an ogre’s throne, and Eliza and Bolstrood were on the creaking faggot-chairs. Bolstrood tried to make a formal introduction of the Client, but-
“So,” Eliza said, “as you were saying a short time ago: fighting battles with muskets and powder is an out-moded practice and…”
“It suits my purposes for people to think that I actually believe such nonsense,” Monmouth said, “and women are ever eager to believe it.”
“Why-because in battle, women become swag, and we don’t like being swag?”
“I suppose so.”
“I’ve been swag. It didn’t suit me. So, for me, your little lecture about modernity was inspiring in a way.”
“As I said-women are eager to believe it.”
“The two of you are acquainted-?-!” Bolstrood finally forced out.
“As my late Dad so aptly demonstrated, those of us who are predestined to burn in Hell must try to have a bit of fun while we are alive,” Monmouth said. “Men and women-ones who are not Puritans, anyway-know each other in all sorts of ways!” Regarding Eliza warmly. Eliza gave him a look that was intended to be like a giant icicle thrust through his abdomen-but Monmouth responded with a small erotic quiver.
Eliza said, “If you play into the comte d’Avaux’s hands so easily, by diverting your affections from Mary-what use will you be when you sit on the throne of England?”
Monmouth drooped and looked at Bolstrood.
“I didn’t tell her, exactly,” Gomer Bolstrood protested, “I only told her what commodities we wish to purchase.”
“Which was enough to make your plan quite obvious,” Eliza said.
“Doesn’t matter, I suppose,” Monmouth said. “As we cannot make the purchases anyway without putting up some collateral-and in our case the collateral is the throne.”
“That’s not what I was told,” Eliza said. “I’ve been assuming the account would be settled with gold.”
“And so it will be- after.”
“After what?”
“After we’ve conquered England.”
“Oh.”
“But most of England is on our side, so-a few months at most.”
“Does most-of-England have guns?”
“It’s true what he says,” put in Gomer Bolstrood. “Everywhere this man goes in England, people turn out into the streets and light bonfires for him, and burn the Pope in effigy.”
“So in addition to purchasing the required commodities, you require a bridge loan, for which your collateral will be-”
“The Tower of London,” Monmouth said reassuringly.
“I am a trader, not a shareholder,” Eliza said. “I cannot be your financier.”
“How can you trade, without being a shareholder?”
“I trade ducat shares, which have one-tenth the value of proper V.O.C. shares and are far more liquid. I hold them-or options-only long enough to eke out a small profit. You will need to skate about forty miles that way, your grace,” Eliza said, pointing northeast, “and make connections with Amsterdam moneylenders. There are great men there, princes of the market, who’ve accumulated stacks of V.O.C. stock, and who will lend money out against it. But as you cannot put the Tower of London in your pocket and set it on the table as security for the loan, you’ll need something else.”
“We know that,” Bolstrood said. “We are merely letting you know that when time comes to effect the transaction, the payment will come, not from us, but-”
“From some credulous lender.”
“Not so credulous. Important men are with us.”
“May I know who those men are?”
A look between Bolstrood and Monmouth. “Not now. Later, in Amsterdam,” Bolstrood said.
“This is never going to work-those Amsterdammers have more good investments than they know what to do with,” Eliza said. “But there might be another way to get the money.”
“Where do you propose to get it from, if not the moneylenders of Amsterdam?” Monmouth asked. “My mistress has already pawned all of her jewels- thatresource is exhausted.”
“We can get it from Mr. Sluys,” Eliza said, after a long few minutes of staring into the fire. She turned to face the others. The air of the lodge was suddenly cool on her brow.
“The one who betrayed his country thirteen years ago?” Bolstrood asked warily.
“The same. He has many connections with French investors and is very rich.”
“You mean to blackmail him, then-?” Monmouth asked.
“Not precisely. First we’ll find some other investor and tell him of your plan to invade England.”
“But the plan is a secret!”
“He’ll have every incentive to keep it secret-for as soon as he knows, he will begin selling V.O.C. stock short.”
“That, ‘selling short,’ is a bit of zargon I have heard Dutchmen and Jews bandy about, but I know not what it means,” Monmouth said.
“There are two factions who war with each other in the market: liefhebberen or bulls who want the stock to rise, and contremines or bears who want it to fall. Frequently a group of bears will come together and form a secret cabal-they will spread false news of pirates off the coast, or go into the market loudly selling shares at very low prices, trying to create a panic and make the price drop.”
“But how do they make money from this?”
“Never mind the details-there are ways of using options so that you will make money if the price falls. It is called short selling. Our investor-once we tell him about your invasion plans-will begin betting that V.O.C. stock will drop soon. And rest assured, it will. Only a few years ago, mere rumors about the state of Anglo/Dutch relations were sufficient to depress the price by ten or twenty percent. News of an invasion will plunge it through the floor. ”
“Why?” Monmouth asked.
“England has a powerful navy-if they are hostile to Holland, they can choke off shipping, and the V.O.C. drops like a stone.”
“But my policies will be far more congenial to the Hollanders than King James’s!” Monmouth protested.
Bolstrood meanwhile had a look on his face as if he were being garrotted by an invisible cord.
Eliza composed herself, breathed deeply, and smiled at Monmouth-then leaned forward and put her hand on his forearm. “Naturally, when it becomes generally understood that your rebellion is going to succeed, V.O.C. stock will soar like a lark in the morning. But at first the market will be dominated by ignorant ninehammers who’ll foolishly assume that King James will prevail-and that he will be ever so annoyed at the Dutch for having allowed their territory to serve as spring-board for an invasion of his country.”