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diff --git a/41817-8.txt b/41817-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index cdb7077..0000000 --- a/41817-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16896 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of John Marvel, Assistant, by Thomas Nelson Page - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: John Marvel, Assistant - -Author: Thomas Nelson Page - -Illustrator: James Montgomery Flagg - -Release Date: January 10, 2013 [EBook #41817] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOHN MARVEL, ASSISTANT *** - - - - -Produced by D Alexander, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - JOHN MARVEL - - ASSISTANT - - BY THOMAS NELSON PAGE - - - ILLUSTRATED BY - JAMES MONTGOMERY FLAGG - - NEW YORK - CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS - 1909 - - COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY - CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS - - Published October, 1909 - - - - - TO - THOSE LOVED ONES - WHOSE NEVER FAILING SYMPATHY HAS - LED ME ALL THESE YEARS - - - - -[Illustration: "To ply your old trade?" I asked.] - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. MY FIRST FAILURE 1 - - II. THE JEW AND THE CHRISTIAN 5 - - III. THE FIGHT 16 - - IV. DELILAH 26 - - V. THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE 36 - - VI. THE METEOR 44 - - VII. THE HEGIRA 55 - - VIII. PADAN-ARAM 67 - - IX. I PITCH MY TENT 84 - - X. A NEW GIRL 103 - - XI. ELEANOR LEIGH 114 - - XII. JOHN MARVEL 138 - - XIII. MR. LEIGH 147 - - XIV. MISS LEIGH SEEKS WORK 154 - - XV. THE LADY OF THE VIOLETS 172 - - XVI. THE SHADOW OF SHAM 186 - - XVII. THE GULF 198 - - XVIII. THE DRUMMER 215 - - XIX. RE-ENTER PECK 227 - - XX. MY FIRST CLIENT 245 - - XXI. THE RESURRECTION OF DIX 259 - - XXII. THE PREACHER 275 - - XXIII. MRS. ARGAND 286 - - XXIV. WOLFFERT'S MISSION 305 - - XXV. FATE LEADS 319 - - XXVI. COLL MCSHEEN'S METHODS 339 - - XXVII. THE SHADOW 354 - - XXVIII. THE WALKING DELEGATE 361 - - XXIX. MY CONFESSION 381 - - XXX. SEEKING ONE THAT WAS LOST 398 - - XXXI. JOHN MARVEL'S RAID 416 - - XXXII. DOCTOR CAIAPHAS 430 - - XXXIII. THE PEACE-MAKER 453 - - XXXIV. THE FLAG OF TRUCE 465 - - XXXV. MR. LEIGH HAS A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE MADE HIM 493 - - XXXVI. THE RIOT AND ITS VICTIM 507 - - XXXVII. WOLFFERT'S NEIGHBORS 517 - - XXXVIII. WOLFFERT'S PHILOSOPHY 527 - - XXXIX. THE CONFLICT 539 - - XL. THE CURTAIN 563 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - -_"To ply your old trade?" I asked_ Frontispiece - -_Wolffert ... was cursing me with all the eloquence of a rich -vocabulary_ 20 - -_"Hi! What you doin'?" he stammered_ 60 - -_"But you must not come in"_ 140 - -_"Perhaps, you are the man yourself?" she added insolently_ 302 - -_"Speak her soft, Galley"_ 412 - -_"I suppose it is necessary that we should at least appear to be -exchanging the ordinary inanities"_ 468 - -_I am sure it was on that stream that Halcyone found retreat_ 556 - - - - -JOHN MARVEL, ASSISTANT - - - - -I - -MY FIRST FAILURE - - -I shall feel at liberty to tell my story in my own way; rambling along -at my own gait; now going from point to point; now tearing ahead; now -stopping to rest or to ruminate, and even straying from the path -whenever I think a digression will be for my own enjoyment. - -I shall begin with my college career, a period to which I look back now -with a pleasure wholly incommensurate with what I achieved in it; which -I find due to the friends I made and to the memories I garnered there in -a time when I possessed the unprized treasures of youth: spirits, hope, -and abounding conceit. As these memories, with the courage (to use a -mild term) that a college background gives, are about all that I got out -of my life there, I shall dwell on them only enough to introduce two or -three friends and one enemy, who played later a very considerable part -in my life. - -My family was an old and distinguished one; that is, it could be traced -back about two hundred years, and several of my ancestors had -accomplished enough to be known in the history of the State--a fact of -which I was so proud that I was quite satisfied at college to rest on -their achievements, and felt no need to add to its distinction by any -labors of my own. - -We had formerly been well off; we had, indeed, at one time prior to the -Revolutionary War, owned large estates--a time to which I was so fond of -referring when I first went to college that one of my acquaintances, -named Peck, an envious fellow, observed one day that I thought I had -inherited all the kingdoms of the earth and the glory of them. My -childhood was spent on an old plantation, so far removed from anything -that I have since known that it might almost have been in another -planet. - -It happened that I was the only child of my parents who survived, the -others having been carried off in early childhood by a scourge of -scarlet fever, to which circumstance, as I look back, I now know was due -my mother's sadness of expression when my father was not present. I was -thus subjected to the perils and great misfortune of being an only -child, among them that of thinking the sun rises and sets for his -especial benefit. I must say that both my father and mother tried -faithfully to do their part to counteract this danger, and they not only -believed firmly in, but acted consistently on, the Solomonic doctrine -that to spare the rod is to spoil the child. My father, I must say, was -more lenient, and I think gladly evaded the obligation as interpreted by -my mother, declaring that Solomon, like a good many other persons, was -much wiser in speech than in practice. He was fond of quoting the -custom of the ancient Scythians, who trained their youth to ride, to -shoot, and to speak the truth. And in this last particular he was -inexorable. - -Among my chief intimates as a small boy was a little darkey named -"Jeams." Jeams was the grandson of one of our old servants--Uncle Ralph -Woodson. Jeams, who was a few years my senior, was a sharp-witted boy, -as black as a piece of old mahogany, and had a head so hard that he -could butt a plank off a fence. Naturally he and I became cronies, and -he picked up information on various subjects so readily that I found him -equally agreeable and useful. - -My father was admirably adapted to the conditions that had created such -a character, but as unsuited to the new conditions that succeeded the -collapse of the old life as a shorn lamb would be to the untempered wind -of winter. He was a Whig and an aristocrat of the strongest type, and -though in practice he was the kindest and most liberal of men, he always -maintained that a gentleman was the choicest fruit of civilization; a -standard, I may say, in which the personal element counted with him far -more than family connection. "A king can make a nobleman, sir," he used -to say; "but it takes Jehovah to make a gentleman." When the war came, -though he was opposed to "Locofocoism" as he termed it, he enlisted as a -private as soon as the State seceded, and fought through the war, rising -to be a major and surrendering at Appomattox. When the war closed, he -shut himself up on his estate, accepting the situation without -moroseness, and consoling himself with a philosophy much more -misanthropic in expression than in practice. - -My father's slender patrimony had been swept away by the war, but, being -a scholar himself, and having a high idea of classical learning and a -good estimate of my abilities--in which latter view I entirely agreed -with him--he managed by much stinting to send me to college out of the -fragments of his establishment. I admired greatly certain principles -which were stamped in him as firmly as a fossil is embedded in the solid -rock; but I fear I had a certain contempt for what appeared to me his -inadequacy to the new state of things, and I secretly plumed myself on -my superiority to him in all practical affairs. Without the least -appreciation of the sacrifices he was making to send me to college, I -was an idle dog and plunged into the amusements of the gay set--that set -whose powers begin below their foreheads--in which I became a member and -aspired to be a leader. - -My first episode at college brought me some _éclat_. - - - - -II - -THE JEW AND THE CHRISTIAN - - -I arrived rather late and the term had already begun, so that all the -desirable rooms had been taken. I was told that I would either have to -room out of college or take quarters with a young man by the name of -Wolffert--like myself, a freshman. I naturally chose the latter. On -reaching my quarters, I found my new comrade to be an affable, -gentlemanly fellow, and very nice looking. Indeed, his broad brow, with -curling brown hair above it; his dark eyes, deep and luminous; a nose -the least bit too large and inclining to be aquiline; a well-cut mouth -with mobile, sensitive lips, and a finely chiselled jaw, gave him an -unusual face, if not one of distinction. He was evidently bent on making -himself agreeable to me, and as he had read an extraordinary amount for -a lad of his age and I, who had also read some, was lonely, we had -passed a pleasant evening when he mentioned casually a fact which sent -my heart down into my boots. He was a Jew. This, then, accounted for the -ridge of his well-carved nose, and the curl of his soft brown hair. I -tried to be as frank and easy as I had been before, but it was a -failure. He saw my surprise as I saw his disappointment--a coolness took -the place of the warmth that had been growing up between us for several -hours, and we passed a stiff evening. He had already had one room-mate. - -Next day, I found a former acquaintance who offered to take me into his -apartment, and that afternoon, having watched for my opportunity, I took -advantage of my room-mate's absence and moved out, leaving a short note -saying that I had discovered an old friend who was very desirous that I -should share his quarters. When I next met Wolffert, he was so stiff, -that although I felt sorry for him and was ready to be as civil as I -might, our acquaintance thereafter became merely nominal. I saw in fact, -little of him during the next months, for he soon forged far ahead of -me. There was, indeed, no one in his class who possessed his -acquirements or his ability. I used to see him for a while standing in -his doorway looking wistfully out at the groups of students gathered -under the trees, or walking alone, like Isaac in the fields, and until I -formed my own set, I would have gone and joined him or have asked him to -join us but for his rebuff. I knew that he was lonely; for I soon -discovered that the cold shoulder was being given to him by most of the -students. I could not, however, but feel that it served him right for -the "airs" he put on with me. That he made a brilliant exhibition in his -classes and was easily the cleverest man in the class did not affect our -attitude toward him; perhaps, it only aggravated the case. Why should he -be able to make easily a demonstration at the blackboard that the -cleverest of us only bungled through? One day, however, we learned that -the Jew had a room-mate. Bets were freely taken that he would not stick, -but he stuck--for it was John Marvel. Not that any of us knew what John -Marvel was; for even I, who, except Wolffert, came to know him best, -did not divine until many years later what a nugget of unwrought gold -that homely, shy, awkward John Marvel was! - -It appeared that Wolffert had a harder time than any of us dreamed of. - -He had come to the institution against the advice of his father, and for -a singular reason: he thought it the most liberal institution of -learning in the country! Little he knew of the narrowness of youth! His -mind was so receptive that all that passed through it was instantly -appropriated. Like a plant, he drew sustenance from the atmosphere about -him and transmuted what was impalpable to us to forms of beauty. He was -even then a man of independent thought; a dreamer who peopled the earth -with ideals, and saw beneath the stony surface of the commonplace the -ideals and principles that were to reconstruct and resurrect the world. -An admirer of the Law in its ideal conception, he reprobated, with the -fury of the Baptist, the generation that had belittled and cramped it to -an instrument of torture of the human mind, and looked to the millenial -coming of universal brotherhood and freedom. - -His father was a leading man in his city; one who, by his native ability -and the dynamic force that seems to be a characteristic of the race, had -risen from poverty to the position of chief merchant and capitalist of -the town in which he lived. He had been elected mayor in a time of -stress; but his popularity among the citizens generally had cost him, -as I learned later, something among his own people. The breadth of his -views had not been approved by them. - -The abilities that in the father had taken this direction of the -mingling of the practical and the theoretical had, in the son, taken the -form I have stated. He was an idealist: a poet and a dreamer. - -The boy from the first had discovered powers that had given his father -the keenest delight, not unmingled with a little misgiving. As he grew -up among the best class of boys in his town, and became conscious that -he was not one of them, his inquiring and aspiring mind began early to -seek the reasons for the difference. Why should he be held a little -apart from them? He was a Jew. Yes, but why should a Jew be held apart? -They talked about their families. Why, his family could trace back for -two thousand and more years to princes and kings. They had a different -religion. But he saw other boys with different religions going and -playing together. They were Christians, and believed in Christ, while -the Jew, etc. This puzzled him till he found that some of them--a -few--did not hold the same views of Christ with the others. Then he -began to study for himself, boy as he was, the history of Christ, and -out of it came questions that his father could not answer and was angry -that he should put to him. He went to a young Rabbi who told him that -Christ was a good man, but mistaken in His claims. - -So, the boy drifted a little apart from his own people, and more and -more he studied the questions that arose in his mind, and more and more -he suffered; but more and more he grew strong. - -The father, too proud of his son's independence to coerce him by an -order which might have been a law to him, had, nevertheless, thrown him -on his own resources and cut him down to the lowest figure on which he -could live, confident that his own opinions would be justified and his -son return home. - -Wolffert's first experience very nearly justified this conviction. The -fact that a Jew had come and taken one of the old apartments spread -through the college with amazing rapidity and created a sensation. Not -that there had not been Jews there before, for there had been a number -there at one time or another. But they were members of families of -distinction, who had been known for generations as bearing their part in -all the appointments of life, and had consorted with other folk on an -absolute equality; so that there was little or nothing to distinguish -them as Israelites except their name. If they were Israelites, it was an -accident and played no larger part in their views than if they had been -Scotch or French. But here was a man who proclaimed himself a Jew; who -proposed that it should be known, and evidently meant to assert his -rights and peculiarities on all occasions. The result was that he was -subjected to a species of persecution which only the young Anglo-Saxon, -the most brutal of all animals, could have devised. - -As college filled rapidly, it soon became necessary to double up, that -is, put two men in one apartment. The first student assigned to live -with Wolffert was Peck, a sedate and cool young man--like myself, from -the country, and like myself, very short of funds. Peck would not have -minded rooming with a Jew, or, for that matter, with the Devil, if he -had thought he could get anything out of him; for he had few prejudices, -and when it came to calculation, he was the multiplication-table. But -Peck had his way to make, and he coolly decided that a Jew was likely to -make him bear his full part of the expenses--which he never had any mind -to do. So he looked around, and within forty-eight hours moved to a -place out of college where he got reduced board on the ground of -belonging to some peculiar set of religionists, of which I am convinced -he had never heard till he learned of the landlady's idiosyncrasy. - -I had incurred Peck's lasting enmity--though I did not know it at the -time--by a witticism at his expense. We had never taken to each other -from the first, and one evening, when someone was talking about -Wolffert, Peck joined in and said that that institution was no place for -any Jew. I said, "Listen to Peck sniff. Peck, how did you get in?" This -raised a laugh. Peck, I am sure, had never read "Martin Chuzzlewit"; but -I am equally sure he read it afterward, for he never forgave me. - -Then came my turn and desertion which I have described. And then, after -that interval of loneliness, appeared John Marvel. - -Wolffert, who was one of the most social men I ever knew, was sitting in -his room meditating on the strange fate that had made him an outcast -among the men whom he had come there to study and know. This was my -interpretation of his thoughts: he would probably have said he was -thinking of the strange prejudices of the human race--prejudices to -which he had been in some sort a victim all his life, as his race had -been all through the ages. He was steeped in loneliness, and as, in the -mellow October afternoon, the sound of good-fellowship floated in at his -window from the lawn outside, he grew more and more dejected. One -evening it culminated. He even thought of writing to his father that he -would come home and go into his office and accept the position that -meant wealth and luxury and power. Just then there was a step outside, -and someone stopped and after a moment, knocked at the door. Wolffert -rose and opened it and stood facing a new student--a florid, -round-faced, round-bodied, bow-legged, blue-eyed, awkward lad of about -his own age. - -"Is this number ----?" demanded the newcomer, peering curiously at the -dingy door and half shyly looking up at the occupant. - -"It is. Why?" Wolffert spoke abruptly. - -"Well, I have been assigned to this apartment by the Proctor. I am a new -student and have just come. My name is Marvel--John Marvel." Wolffert -put his arms across the doorway and stood in the middle of it. - -"Well, I want to tell you before you come in that I am a Jew. You are -welcome not to come, but if you come I want you to stay." Perhaps the -other's astonishment contained a query, for he went on hotly: - -"I have had two men come here already and both of them left after one -day. The first said he got cheaper board, which was a legitimate -excuse--if true--the other said he had found an old friend who wanted -him. I am convinced that he lied and that the only reason he left was -that I am a Jew. And now you can come in or not, as you please, but if -you come you must stay." He was looking down in John Marvel's eyes with -a gaze that had the concentrated bitterness of generations in it, and -the latter met it with a gravity that deepened into pity. - -"I will come in and I will stay; Jesus was a Jew," said the man on the -lower step. - -"I do not know him," said the other bitterly. - -"But you will. I know Him." - -Wolffert's arms fell and John Marvel entered and stayed. - -That evening the two men went to the supper hall together. Their table -was near mine and they were the observed of all observers. The one -curious thing was that John Marvel was studying for the ministry. It -lent zest to the jokes that were made on this incongruous pairing, and -jests, more or less insipid, were made on the Law and the Prophets; the -lying down together of the lion and the lamb, etc. - -It was a curious mating--the light-haired, moon-faced, slow-witted -Saxon, and the dark, keen Jew with his intellectual face and his -deep-burning eyes in which glowed the misery and mystery of the ages. - -John Marvel soon became well known; for he was one of the slowest men -in the college. With his amusing awkwardness, he would have become a -butt except for his imperturbable good-humor. As it was, he was for a -time a sort of object of ridicule to many of us--myself among the -number--and we had many laughs at him. He would disappear on Saturday -night and not turn up again till Monday morning, dusty and disheveled. -And many jests were made at his expense. One said that Marvel was -practising preaching in the mountains with a view to becoming a second -Demosthenes; another suggested that, if so, the mountains would probably -get up and run into the sea. - -When, however, it was discovered later that he had a Sunday-school in -the mountains, and walked twelve miles out and twelve miles back, most -of the gibers, except the inveterate humorists like myself, were silent. - -This fact came out by chance. Marvel disappeared from college one day -and remained away for two or three weeks. Wolffert either could not or -would not give any account of him. When Marvel returned, he looked worn -and ill, as if he had been starving, and almost immediately he was taken -ill and went to the infirmary with a case of fever. Here he was so ill -that the doctors quarantined him and no one saw him except the -nurse--old Mrs. Denny, a wrinkled and bald-headed, old, fat woman, -something between a lightwood knot and an angel--and Wolffert. - -Wolffert moved down and took up his quarters in the infirmary--it was -suggested, with a view to converting Marvel to Judaism--and here he -stayed. The nursing never appeared to make any difference in Wolffert's -preparation for his classes; for when he came back he still stood easily -first. But poor Marvel never caught up again, and was even more -hopelessly lost in the befogged region at the bottom of the class than -ever before. When called on to recite, his brow would pucker and he -would perspire and stammer until the class would be in ill-suppressed -convulsions, all the more enjoyable because of Leo Wolffert's agonizing -over his wretchedness. Then Marvel, excused by the professor, would sit -down and mop his brow and beam quite as if he had made a wonderful -performance (which indeed, he had), while Wolffert's thin face would -grow whiter, his nostrils quiver, and his deep eyes burn like coals. - -One day a spare, rusty man with a frowzy beard, and a lank, stooping -woman strolled into the college grounds, and after wandering around -aimlessly for a time, asked for Mr. Marvel. Each of them carried a -basket. They were directed to his room and remained with him some time, -and when they left, he walked some distance with them. - -It was at first rumored and then generally reported that they were -Marvel's father and mother. It became known later that they were a -couple of poor mountaineers named Shiflett, whose child John Marvel had -nursed when it had the fever. They had just learned of his illness and -had come down to bring him some chickens and other things which they -thought he might need. - -This incident, with the knowledge of Marvel's devotion, made some -impression on us, and gained for Marvel, and incidentally for Wolffert, -some sort of respect. - - - - -III - -THE FIGHT - - -All this time I was about as far aloof from Marvel and Wolffert as I was -from any one in the college. - -I rather liked Marvel, partly because he appeared to like me and I -helped him in his Latin, and partly because Peck sniffed at him, and -Peck I cordially disliked for his cold-blooded selfishness and his -plodding way. - -I was strong and active and fairly good-looking, though by no means so -handsome as I fancied myself when I passed the large plate-glass windows -in the stores; I was conceited, but not arrogant except to my family and -those I esteemed my inferiors; was a good poker-player; was open-handed -enough, for it cost me nothing; and was inclined to be kind by nature. - -I had, moreover, several accomplishments which led to a certain measure -of popularity. I had a retentive memory, and could get up a recitation -with little trouble; though I forgot about as quickly as I learned. I -could pick a little on a banjo; could spout fluently what sounded like a -good speech if one did not listen to me; could write, what someone has -said, looked at a distance like poetry and, thanks to my father, could -both fence and read Latin. These accomplishments served to bring me into -the best set in college and, in time, to undo me. For there is nothing -more dangerous to a young man than an exceptional social accomplishment. -A tenor voice is almost as perilous as a taste for drink; and to play -the guitar, about as seductive as to play poker. - -I was soon to know Wolffert better. He and Marvel, after their work -became known, had been admitted rather more within the circle, though -they were still kept near the perimeter. And thus, as the spring came -on, when we all assembled on pleasant afternoons under the big trees -that shaded the green slopes above the athletic field, even Wolffert and -Marvel were apt to join us. I would long ago have made friends with -Wolffert, as some others had done since he distinguished himself; for I -had been ashamed of my poltroonery in leaving him; but, though he was -affable enough with others, he always treated me with such marked -reserve that I had finally abandoned my charitable effort to be on easy -terms with him. - -One spring afternoon we were all loafing under the trees, many of us -stretched out on the grass. I had just saved a game of baseball by -driving a ball that brought in three men from the bases, and I was -surrounded by quite a group. Marvel, who was as strong as an ox, was -second-baseman on the other nine and had missed the ball as the -center-fielder threw it wildly. Something was said--I do not recall -what--and I raised a laugh at Marvel's expense, in which he joined -heartily. Then a discussion began on the merits in which Wolffert -joined. I started it, but as Wolffert appeared excited, I drew out and -left it to my friends. - -Presently, at something Wolffert said, I turned to a friend, Sam -Pleasants, and said in a half-aside, with a sneer: "He did not see it; -Sam, _you_--" I nodded my head, meaning, "You explain it." - -Suddenly, Wolffert rose to his feet and, without a word of warning, -poured out on me such a torrent of abuse as I never heard before or -since. His least epithet was a deadly insult. It was out of a clear sky, -and for a moment my breath was quite taken away. I sprang to my feet -and, with a roar of rage, made a rush for him. But he was ready, and -with a step to one side, planted a straight blow on my jaw that, -catching me unprepared, sent me full length on my back. I was up in a -second and made another rush for him, only to be caught in the same way -and sent down again. - -When I rose the second time, I was cooler. I knew then that I was in for -it. Those blows were a boxer's. They came straight from the shoulder and -were as quick as lightning, with every ounce of the giver's weight -behind them. By this time, however, the crowd had interfered. This was -no place for a fight, they said. The professors would come on us. -Several were holding me and as many more had Wolffert; among them, John -Marvel, who could have lifted him in his strong arms and held him as a -baby. Marvel was pleading with him with tears in his eyes. Wolffert was -cool enough now, but he took no heed of his friend's entreaties. -Standing quite still, with the blaze in his eyes all the more vivid -because of the pallor of his face, he was looking over his friend's head -and was cursing me with all the eloquence of a rich vocabulary. So far -as he was concerned, there might not have been another man but myself -within a mile. - -[Illustration: Wolffert ... was cursing me with all the eloquence of a -rich vocabulary] - -In a moment an agreement was made by which we were to adjourn to a -retired spot and fight it out. Something that he said led someone to -suggest that we settle it with pistols. It was Peck's voice. Wolffert -sprang at it. "I will, if I can get any gentleman to represent me," he -said with a bitter sneer, casting his flashing, scornful eyes around on -the crowd. "I have only one friend and I will not ask him to do it." - -"I will represent you," said Peck, who had his own reasons for the -offer. - -"All right. When and where?" said I. - -"Now, and in the railway-cut beyond the wood," said Wolffert. - -We retired to two rooms in a neighboring dormitory to arrange matters. -Peck and another volunteer represented Wolffert, and Sam Pleasants and -Harry Houston were my seconds. I had expected that some attempt at -reconciliation would be made; but there was no suggestion of it. I never -saw such cold-blooded young ruffians as all our seconds were, and when -Peck came to close the final cartel he had an air between that of a -butcher and an undertaker. He looked at me exactly as a butcher does at -a fatted calf. He positively licked his chops. I did not want to shoot -Wolffert, but I could cheerfully have murdered Peck. While, however, -the arrangements were being made by our friends, I had had a chance for -some reflection and I had used it. I knew that Wolffert did not like me. -He had no reason to do so, for I had not only left him, but had been -cold and distant with him. Still, I had always treated him civilly, and -had spoken of him respectfully, which was more than Peck had always -done. Yet, here, without the least provocation, he had insulted me -grossly. I knew there must be some misunderstanding, and I determined on -my "own hook" to find out what it was. Fortune favored me. Just then -Wolffert opened the door. He had gone to his own room for a few moments -and, on his return, mistook the number and opened the wrong door. Seeing -his error, he drew back with an apology, and was just closing the door -when I called him. - -"Wolffert! Come in here a moment. I want to speak to you alone." - -He re-entered and closed the door; standing stiff and silent. - -"Wolffert, there has been some mistake, and I want to know what it is." -He made not the least sign that he heard, except a flash, deep in his -eyes, like a streak of lightning in a far-off cloud. - -"I am ready to fight you in any way you wish," I went on. "But I want to -know what the trouble is. Why did you insult me out of a clear sky? What -had I done?" - -"Everything." - -"What! Specify. What was it?" - -"You have made my life Hell--all of you!" His face worked, and he made a -wild sweep with his arm and brought it back to his side with clenched -fist. - -"But I?" - -"You were the head. You have all done it. You have treated me as an -outcast--a Jew! You have given me credit for nothing, because I was a -Jew. I could have stood the personal contempt and insult, and I have -tried to stand it; but I will put up with it no longer. It is appointed -once for a man to die, and I can die in no better cause than for my -people." - -He was gasping with suppressed emotion, and I was beginning to gasp -also--but for a different reason. He went on: - -"You thought I was a coward because I was a Jew, and because I wanted -peace--treated me as a poltroon because I was a Jew. And I made up my -mind to stop it. So this evening my chance came. That is all." - -"But what have I done?" - -"Nothing more than you have always done; treated the Jew with contempt. -But they were all there, and I chose you as the leader when you said -that about the Jew." - -"I said nothing about a Jew. Here, wait! Did you think I insulted you as -a Jew this afternoon?" I had risen and walked over in front of him. - -"Yes." He bowed. - -"Well, I did not." - -"You did--you said to Sam Pleasants that I was a 'damned Jew.'" - -"What! I never said a word like it--yes, I did--I said to Sam Pleasants, -that you did not see the play, and said, '_Sam, you_--' meaning, you, -tell him. Wait. Let me think a moment. Wolffert, I owe you an apology, -and will make it. I know there are some who will think I do it because I -am afraid to fight. But I do not care. I am not, and I will fight Peck -if he says so. If you will come with me, I will make you a public -apology, and then if you want to fight still, I will meet you." - -He suddenly threw his right arm up across his face, and, turning his -back on me, leaned on it against the door, his whole person shaken with -sobs. - -I walked up close to him and laid my hand on his shoulder, helplessly. - -"Calm yourself," I began, but could think of nothing else to say. - -He shook for a moment and then, turning, with his left arm still across -his face, he held out his right hand, and I took it. - -"I do not want you to do that. All I want is decent treatment--ordinary -civility," he faltered between his sobs. Then he turned back and leant -against the door, for he could scarcely stand. And so standing, he made -the most forcible, the most eloquent, and the most burning defence of -his people I have ever heard. - -"They have civilized the world," he declared, "and what have they gotten -from it but brutal barbarism. They gave you your laws and your -literature, your morality and your religion--even your Christ; and you -have violated every law, human and divine, in their oppression. You -invaded our land, ravaged our country, and scattered us over the face of -the earth, trying to destroy our very name and Nation. But the God of -Israel was our refuge and consolation. You crucified Jesus and then -visited it on us. You have perpetuated an act of age-long hypocrisy, and -have, in the name of the Prince of Peace, brutalized over his people. -The cross was your means of punishment--no Jew ever used it. But if we -had crucified him it would have been in the name of Law and Order; your -crucifixion was in the name of Contempt; and you have crucified a whole -people through the ages--the one people who have ever stood for the one -God; who have stood for Morality and for Peace. A Jew! Yes, I am a Jew. -I thank the God of Israel that I am. For as he saved the world in the -past, so he will save it in the future." - -This was only a part of it, and not the best part; but it gave me a new -insight into his mind. - -When he was through I was ready. I had reached my decision. - -"I will go with you," I said, "not on your account, but on my own, and -make my statement before the whole crowd. They are still on the hill. -Then, if any one wants to fight, he can get it. I will fight Peck." - -He repeated that he did not want me to do this, and he would not go; -which was as well, for I might not have been able to say so much in his -presence. So I went alone with my seconds, whom I immediately sought. - -I found the latter working over a cartel at a table in the next room, -and I walked in. They looked as solemn as owls, but I broke them up in a -moment. - -"You can stop this infernal foolishness. I have apologized to Wolffert. -I have treated him like a pig, and so have you. And I have told him so, -and now I am going out to tell the other fellows." - -Their astonishment was unbounded and, at least, one of the group was -sincerely disappointed. I saw Peck's face fall at my words and then he -elevated his nose and gave a little sniff. - -"Well, it did not come from _our_ side," he said in a half undertone -with a sneer. - -I suddenly exploded. His cold face was so evil. - -"No, it did not. I made it freely and frankly, and I am going to make it -publicly. But if you are disappointed, I want to tell you that you can -have a little affair on your own account. And in order that there may be -no want of pretext, I wish to tell you that I believe you have been -telling lies on me, and I consider you a damned, sneaking hypocrite." - -There was a commotion, of course, and the others all jumped in between -us. And when it was over, I walked out. Three minutes later I was on the -hill among the crowd, which now numbered several hundred, for they were -all waiting to learn the result; and, standing on a bench, I told them -what I had said to Wolffert and how I felt I owed him a public apology, -not for one insult, but for a hundred. There was a silence for a second, -and then such a cheer broke out as I never got any other time in my -life! Cheers for Wolffert--cheers for Marvel, and even cheers for me. -And then a freckled youth with a big mouth and a blue, merry eye broke -the tension by saying: - -"All bets are off and we sha'n't have a holiday to-morrow at all." The -reprobates had been betting on which of us would fall, and had been -banking on a possible holiday. - -Quite a crowd went to Wolffert's room to make atonement for any possible -slight they had put on him; but he was nowhere to be found. But that -night, he and Marvel sat at our table and always sat there afterward. He -illustrated George Borrow's observation that good manners and a -knowledge of boxing will take one through the world. - - - - -IV - -DELILAH - - -My career at college promised at one time after that to be almost -creditable, but it ended in nothing. I was not a good student, because, -I flattered myself, I was too good a fellow. I loved pleasure too much -to apply myself to work, and was too self-indulgent to deny myself -anything. I despised the plodding ways of cold-blooded creatures like -Peck even more than I did the dullness of John Marvel. Why should I -delve at Latin and Greek and Mathematics when I had all the poets and -novelists. I was sure that when the time came I could read up and easily -overtake and surpass the tortoise-like monotony of Peck's plodding. I -now and then had an uneasy realization that Peck was developing, and -that John Marvel, to whom I used to read Latin, had somehow come to -understand the language better than I. However, this was only an -occasional awakening, and the idea was too unpleasant for me to harbor -it long. Meantime, I would enjoy myself and prepare to bear off the more -shining honors of the orator and society-medalist. - -At the very end I did, indeed, arouse myself, for I had a new incentive. -I fell in love. Toward the mid-session holiday the place always filled -up with pretty girls. Usually they came just after "the exams"; but -occasionally some of them came a little in advance: those who were bent -on conquest. At such times, only cold anchorites like Marvel, or -calculating machines like Peck, stuck to their books. Among the fair -visitants this year was one whose reputation for beauty had already -preceded her: Miss Lilian Poole. She was the daughter of a banker in the -capital of the State, and by all accounts was a tearing belle. She had -created a sensation at the Mardi Gras the year before, and one who could -do that must be a beauty. She was reported more beautiful than Isabelle -Henderson, the noted beauty of the Crescent city, whom she was said to -resemble. Certainly, she was not lacking in either looks or -intelligence; for those who had caught a glimpse of her, declared her a -Goddess. I immediately determined that I would become her cavalier for -the occasion. And I so announced to the dozen or more fellows who -composed our set. They laughed at me. - -"Why, you do not know her." - -"But I shall know her." - -"You are not on speaking terms with Professor Sterner"--the Professor of -Mathematics at whose house she was stopping. The Professor, a -logarithmic machine, and I had had a falling out not long before. He had -called on me for a recitation, one morning after a dance, and I had -said, "I am not prepared, sir." - -"You never are prepared," he said, which the class appeared to think -amusing. He glanced over the room. - -"Mr. Peck." - -Peck, also, had been at the dance the night before, though he said he -had a headache, and caused much amusement by his gambols and antics, -which, were like those of a cow; I therefore expected him to say, -"unprepared" also. But not so. - -"I was unwell last night, sir." - -"Ah! Well, I am glad, at least, that you have some sort of a legitimate -excuse." - -I flamed out and rose to my feet. - -"Are you alluding to me, sir?" - -"Take your seat, sir. I deny your right to question me." - -"I will not take my seat. I do not propose to sit still and be insulted. -I demand an answer to my question." - -"Take your seat, I say. I will report you to the Faculty," he shouted. - -"Then you will have to do so very quickly; for I shall report you -immediately." And with that, I stalked out of the room. The Faculty met -that afternoon and I laid my complaint before them, and as the students, -knowing the inside facts, took my side, the Faculty held that the -Professor committed the first breach and reprimanded us both. I was well -satisfied after I had met and cut the Professor publicly. - -I now acknowledge the untowardness of the situation; but when the boys -laughed, I pooh-poohed it. - -"I do not speak to old Sterner, but I will speak to her the first time I -meet her." - -"I will bet you do not," cried Sam Pleasants. - -"Supper for the crowd," chimed in several. They were always as ready to -bet as their long-haired ancestors were in the German forests, where -they bet themselves away, and kept their faith, to the amazement of a -Roman gentleman, who wrote, "_istam vocant fidem_." - -We were all in a room, the windows of which looked across the lawn -toward the pillared portico of Professor Sterner's house, and some of -the boys were gazing over toward the mansion that sheltered the subject -of our thoughts. And as it happened, at that moment, the door opened and -out stepped the young lady herself, in a smart walking costume, topped -by a large hat with a great, drooping, beguiling, white ostrich feather. -An exclamation drew us all to the window. - -"There she is now!" Without doubt, that was she. - -"Jove! What a stunner!" - -"She is alone. There is your chance." - -"Yes, this is the first time you have seen her; now stop jawing and play -ball." - -"Or pay up." - -"Yes, supper for the crowd: porterhouse steak; chicken, and waffles to -end with." - -So they nagged me, one and all. - -"Done," I said, "I will do it now." - -"You have never seen her before?" - -"Never." I was arranging my tie and brushing my hair. - -"You swear it?" - -But I hurried out of the door and slammed it behind me. - -I turned down the walk that led across the campus to the point whither -Miss Poole was directing her steps, and I took a gait that I judged -should meet her at the intersection of the walks. I was doing some hard -thinking, for I knew the window behind me was crowded with derisive -faces. - -As I approached her, I cut my eye at her, and a glance nearly overthrew -my resolution. She was, indeed, a charming picture as she advanced, -though I caught little more than a general impression of a slim, -straight, statuesque figure, a pink face, surmounted by a profusion of -light hair, under a big hat with white feathers, and a pair of bluish -eyes. I glanced away, but not before she had caught my eye. Just then a -whistle sounded behind me, and my nerve returned. I suddenly quickened -my pace, and held out my hand. - -"Why, how do you do?" I exclaimed with well-feigned surprise and -pleasure, plumping myself directly in front of her. She paused; looked -at me, hesitated, and then drew back slightly. - -"I think--, I--. You have made a mistake, I think." - -"Why, do you not remember Henry Glave? Is this not Miss Belle -Henderson?" I asked in a mystified way. - -"No, I am not Miss Henderson." - -"Oh! I beg your pardon--I thought--" I began. Then, as I moved back a -little, I added, "Then you must be Miss Lilian Poole; for there cannot -be more than two like you on earth. I beg your pardon." - -I backed away. - -"I am," she said. Her mounting color showed that she was at least not -angry, and she gave proof of it. - -"Can you tell me? Is not that the way to Dr. Davis's house?" - -"Yes--I will show you which it is." My manner had become most -respectful. - -"Oh! Don't trouble yourself, I beg you." - -"It is not the least trouble," I said sincerely, and it was the only -truth I had told. I walked back a few steps, hat in hand, pointing -eagerly to the house. And as I left, I said, "I hope you will pardon my -stupid mistake." - -"Oh! I do not think it stupid. She is a beauty." - -"_I_ think so." I bowed low. I saw the color rise again as I turned -away, much pleased with myself, and yet a good deal ashamed, too. - -When I returned to "the lair," as we termed Sam Pleasants's room, the -boys seized me. They were like howling dervishes. But I had grown -serious. I was very much ashamed of myself. And I did the only decent -thing I could--I lied, or as good as lied. - -"I will give the supper if you will stop this yelling. Do you suppose I -would make a bet about a girl I did not know?" - -This took the spirit out of the thing, and only one of them knew the -truth. Marvel, who was present, looked at me seriously, and that night -said to me half sadly, - -"You ought not to have done that." - -"What? I know it. It was an ungentlemanly thing." - -"I do not mean that. You ought not to have told a story afterward." - -How he knew it I never knew. - -But I had gotten caught in my own mesh. I had walked into the little -parlor without any invitation, and I was soon hopelessly entangled in -the web at which I had hitherto scoffed. I fell violently in love. - -I soon overcame the little difficulty that stood in my way. And, indeed, -I think Miss Lilian Poole rather helped me out about this. I did not -allow grass to grow under my feet, or any impression I had made to -become effaced. I quickly became acquainted with my Diana-like young -lady; that is, to speak more exactly, I got myself presented to her, for -my complete acquaintance with her was of later date, when I had spent -all the little patrimony I had. I saw immediately that she knew the -story of the wager, though she did not at that time refer to it, and so -far as I could tell, she did not resent it. She, at least, gave no sign -of it. I asked her to allow me to escort her to a German, but she had an -engagement. - -"Who is it?" I inquired rather enviously. - -She had a curious expression in her eyes--which, by the way, were a cool -blue or gray, I never could be sure which, and at times looked rather -like steel. - -She hesitated a moment and her little mouth drew in somewhat closely. - -"Mr. Peck." Her voice was a singular instrument. It had so great a -compass and possessed some notes that affected me strangely; but it also -could be without the least expression. So it was now when she said, -"Mr. Peck," but she colored slightly, as I burst out laughing. - -"Peck! Pecksniff? Did you ever see him dance? I should as soon have -thought of your dancing with a clothes-horse." - -She appeared somewhat troubled. - -"Does he dance so badly as that? He told me he danced." - -"So he does--like this." I gave an imitation of Peck's gyrations, in -which I was so earnest that I knocked over a table and broke a fine -lamp, to my great consternation. - -"Well, you are realistic," observed Miss Poole, calmly, who struck me as -not so much concerned at my misfortune as I might have expected. When, -however, she saw how really troubled I was, she was more sympathetic. - -"Perhaps, if we go out, they will not know who did it," she observed. - -"Well, no, I could not do that," I said, thinking of Peck, and then as -her expression did not change, I fired a shot that I meant to tell. -"Peck would do that sort of thing. _I_ shall tell them." - -To this she made no reply. She only looked inscrutably pretty. But it -often came back to me afterward how calmly and quite as a matter of -course she suggested my concealing the accident, and I wondered if she -thought I was a liar. - -She had a countenance that I once thought one of the most beautiful in -the world; but which changed rarely. Its only variations were from an -infantile beauty to a statuesque firmness. - -Yet that girl, with her rather set expression and infantile face, her -wide open, round eyes and pink prettiness, was as deep as a well, and an -artesian well at that. - -I soon distanced all rivals. Peck was quickly disposed of; though, with -his nagging persistence, he still held on. This bored me exceedingly and -her too, if I could judge by her ridicule of him and her sarcasm which -he somehow appeared too stupid to see. He succumbed, however, to my -mimicry of his dancing; for I was a good mimic, and Peck, in a very high -collar and with very short trousers on his dumpy legs, was really a fair -mark. Miss Poole was by no means indifferent to public opinion, and a -shaft of satire could penetrate her mail of complacency. So when she -returned later to the classic shades of the university, as she did a -number of times for Germans and other social functions, I made a good -deal of hay. A phrase of Peck's, apropos of this, stuck in my memory. -Some one--it was, I think, Leo Wolffert--said that I appeared to be -making hay, and Peck said, "Yes, I would be eating it some day." I often -wondered afterward how he stumbled on the witticism. - -Those visits of my tall young dulcinea cost me dear in the sequel. While -the other fellows were boning I was lounging in the drawing-room -chattering nonsense or in the shade of the big trees in some secluded -nook, writing her very warm poems of the character which Horace says is -hated both of Gods and men. Several of these poems were published in the -college magazine. The constant allusions to her physical charms caused -Peck to say that I evidently considered Miss Poole to be "composed -wholly of eyes and hair." His observation that a man was a fool to write -silly verses to a girl he loved, because it gave her a wrong idea of her -charms, I, at the time, set down to sheer envy, for Peck could not turn -a rhyme; but since I have discovered that for a practical person like -Peck, it has a foundation, of truth. - - - - -V - -THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE - - -Meantime, my studies--if any part of my desultory occupation could be so -termed--suffered undeniably. My appearance at the classroom door with a -cigarette, which I flung away just in time not to carry it into the -room, together with my chronic excuse of being "unprepared," moved the -driest of my professors to the witticism that I "divided my time between -a smoke and a flame." It was only as the finals drew near that I began -to appreciate that I would have the least trouble in "making my -tickets," as the phrase went. Sam Pleasants, Leo Wolffert and my other -friends had begun to be anxious for me for some time before--and both -Wolffert and John Marvel had come to me and suggested my working, at -least, a little: Wolffert with delicacy and warmth; John Marvel with -that awkward bluntness with which he always went at anything. I felt -perfectly easy in my mind then and met their entreaties scornfully. - -"Why, I did well enough at the Intermediates," I said. - -"Yes, but," said John Marvel, "Delilah was not here then----" - -I was conscious, even though I liked the reference to Samson, of being a -little angered; but John Marvel looked so innocent and so hopelessly -friendly that I passed it by with a laugh and paid Miss Poole more -attention than ever. - -The Debater's Medal had for a long time been, in the general estimation, -as good as accorded me; for I was a fluent, and I personally thought, -eloquent speaker, and had some reading. But when Wolffert entered the -debate, his speeches so far outshone mine that I knew at once that I was -beat. They appeared not so much prepared for show, as mine were, as to -come from a storehouse of reading and reflection. Wolffert, who had -begun to speak without any design of entering the contest for the Medal, -would generously have retired, but I would not hear of that. I called -Peck to account for a speech which I had heard of his making: that "the -contest was between a Jew and a jug"; but he denied making it, so I lost -even that satisfaction. - -I worked for the Magazine Medal; but my "poems"--"To Cynthia" and "To -Felicia," and my fanciful sketches, though they were thought fine by our -set, did not, in the estimation of the judges, equal the serious and -solemn essays on Julius Cæsar and Alexander Hamilton, to which the prize -was awarded. At least, the author of those essays had worked over them -like a dog, and in the maturer light of experience, I think he earned -the prizes. - -I worked hard--at least, at the last, for my law degree, and every one -was sure I would win--as sure as that Peck would lose; but Peck scraped -through while mine was held up--because the night before the degrees -were posted I insisted on proving to the professor who had my fate in -his hands, and whom I casually ran into, that a "gentleman drunk was a -gentleman sober," the idea having been suggested to my muddled brain by -my having just been good-natured enough to put to bed Peck. I finally -got the degree, but not until I had been through many tribulations, one -of which was the sudden frost in Miss Poole's manner to me. That girl -was like autumn weather. She could be as warm as summer one minute and -the next the thermometer would drop below the freezing point. I remember -I was her escort the evening of the Final Ball. She looked like Juno -with the flowers I had gone out in the country to get for her from an -old garden that I knew. Her face was very high bred and her pose -majestic. I was immensely proud of her and of myself as her escort--and -as Peck stalked in with a new and ill-fitting suit of "store-clothes" -on, I fancy I put on my toppiest air. But Peck had a shaft and he came -there to shoot it. As he passed near us, he said in a loud voice to -someone, "The B. L. list is posted." - -"Are you through?" demanded the other. - -"Yep." - -"Anybody failed 't we expected to get through?" - -"'T depends on who you expected to get through. Glave's not on it." - -His shaft came home. I grew cold for a minute and then recovered myself. -I saw my partner's face change. I raised my head and danced on -apparently gayer than ever, though my heart was lead. And she played -her part well, too. But a few minutes later when Peck strutted up, a -decided cock to his bullet head, I heard her, as I turned away, -congratulate him on his success. - -I slipped out and went over to the bulletin-board where the degree-men -were posted, and sure enough, I was not among them. A curious crowd was -still standing about and they stopped talking as I came up, so I knew -they had been talking about me. I must say that all showed concern, and -sympathy was written on every face. It was, at least, sweet to know that -they all considered it a cursed shame, and set my failure down to -hostility on the part of one of the professors. I was determined that no -one should know how hard hit I was, and I carried my head high till the -ball was out, and was so lofty with Miss Poole that she was mystified -into being very receptive. I do not know what might have happened that -night if it had not been for old John Marvel. I learned afterward that I -was pretty wild. He found me when I was wildly denouncing the law -professor who had failed to put me through in some minor course, and was -vowing that I would smash in his door and force my diploma from him. I -might have been crazy enough to attempt it had not old John gotten hold -of me. He and Wolffert put me to bed and stayed with me till I was -sober. And sober enough I was next day. - -As I have said, I received my diploma finally; but I lost all the -prestige and pleasure of receiving it along with my class, and I passed -through some of the bitterest hours that a young man can know. - -Among my friends at college--I might say among my warmest friends--was -my old crony "Jeams," or, as he spoke of himself to those whom he did -not regard as his social equals, or whom he wanted to amuse himself -with, "Mister Woodson"; a little later changed to "Professor Woodson," -as more dignified and consonant with the managing class of the -institution. When I left for college he followed me, after a brief -interval, and first appeared as a waiter at the college boarding-house -where I boarded, having used my name as a reference, though at home he -had never been nearer the dining-room than the stable. Here he was -promptly turned out, and thereupon became a hanger-on of mine and a -"Factotum" for me and my friends. - -He was now a tall, slim fellow, with broad shoulders and the muscles of -Atlas--almost but not quite black and with a laugh that would have wiled -Cerberus. He had the shrewdness of a wild animal, and was as imitative -as a monkey, and this faculty had inspired and enabled him to pick up -all sorts of acquirements, ranging from reading and writing to -sleight-of-hand tricks, for which he showed a remarkable aptitude. -Moreover, he had a plenty of physical courage, and only needed to be -backed by someone, on whom he relied, to do anything. - -I was naturally attached to him and put up with his rascalities, though -they often taxed me sorely, while he, on his part, was so sincerely -attached to me, that I believe he would have committed any crime at my -bidding. - -He considered my old clothes his property, and what was far more -inconvenient, considered himself the judge of the exact condition and -moment when they should pass from my possession to his. - -He was a handsome rascal, and took at times such pride in his appearance -that, as he was about my size, I had often to exercise a close watch on -my meagre wardrobe. He had not only good, but really distinguished -manners, and, like many of his race, prided himself on his manners. -Thus, on an occasion when he passed Peck at college, and touched his hat -to him, a civility which Peck ignored, Wolffert said to him, "Jeams, Mr. -Peck don't appear to recognize you." - -"Oh! yes," said Jeams, "he recognizes me, but he don't recognize what's -due from one gent'man to another." - -"Are you going to keep on touching your hat to him?" asked Wolffert. - -"Oh! yes, suh," said Jeams, "I takes keer o' my manners, and lets him -take keer o' hisn'." - -Such was "Jeams," my "body servant," as he styled himself, on occasions -when he had an eye to some article of my apparel or stood in especial -need of a donation. - -He hated Peck with as much violence as his easygoing nature was capable -of, and had no liking for Wolffert. The fact that the latter was a Jew -and yet my friend, staggered him, though he put up with him for my sake, -and on the night of my fight with Wolffert, I think he would, had he had -a chance, have murdered him, as I am sure he would have murdered the -professor who threw me on my degree. He got much fuller than I got that -night, and his real grief and shame were among the heaviest burdens I -had to bear. - -Miss Poole returned home the next afternoon after the delivery of the -diplomas, and I heard that Peck went off on the same train with her. - -I expected some sympathy from the girl for whom my devotion had cost me -so much; but she was as cool and sedate over my failure as if it had -been Peck's. - -All she said was, "Why did not you win the honors?" - -"Because I did not work enough for them." - -"Why did not you work more?" - -I came near saying, "Because I was fooling around you"; but I simply -said, "Because I was so certain of winning them." - -"You showed rather bad judgment." That was all the sympathy I received -from her. - -The old law professor when he took leave of me said--and I remember said -it gravely--"Mr. Glave, you have the burden of too many gifts to carry." - -I was pleased by the speech and showed it. He looked at me keenly from -under his bushy eyebrows. "I commend to you the fable of the hare and -the tortoise. We shall hear of Peck." - -I wondered how he knew I was thinking of Peck with his common face, hard -eyes, and stumpy legs. - -"You shall hear of me, too," I declared with some haughtiness. - -He only smiled politely and made no answer. - -Nettled, I asked arrogantly, "Don't you think I have more sense--more -intellect than Peck?" - -"More intellect--yes--much more.--More sense? No. Remember the fable. -'There are ways that you know not and paths that you have not tried.'" - -"Oh! that fable--it is as old as----" - -"Humanity," he said. "'To scorn delights and live laborious days.' You -will never do that--Peck will." - -I left him, angry and uncomfortable. - -I had rather looked forward to going to the West to a near cousin of my -father's, who, if report were true, had made a fortune as a lawyer and -an investor in a Western city. He and my father had been boys together, -but my cousin had gone West and when the war came, he had taken the -other side. My father, however, always retained his respect for him and -spoke of him with affection. He had been to my home during my early -college-life--a big, stolid, strong-faced man, silent and cold, but -watchful and clear-minded--and had appeared to take quite a fancy to me. - -"When he gets through," he had said to my father, "send him out to me. -That is the place for brains and ambition, and I will see what is in him -for you." - -Now that I had failed, I could not write to him; but as he had made a -memorandum of my graduation year, and as he had written my father -several times, I rather expected he would open the way for me. But no -letter came. So I was content to go to the capital of the State. - - - - -VI - -THE METEOR - - -I am convinced now that as parents are the most unselfish creatures, -children are the veriest brutes on earth. I was too self-absorbed to -think of my kind father, who had sacrificed everything to give me -opportunities which I had thrown under the feet of Lilian Poole and who -now consoled and encouraged me without a word of censure. Though I was -deeply grieved at the loss of my parents, I did not know until years -afterward what an elemental and life-long calamity that loss was. - -My father appeared as much pleased with my single success as if I had -brought him home the honors which I had been boasting I would show him. -He gave me only two or three bits of advice before I left home. "Be -careful with other people's money and keep out of debt," he said. "Also, -have no dealings with a rascal, no matter how tightly you think you can -tie him up." And his final counsel was, "Marry a lady and do not marry a -fool." - -I wondered if he were thinking of Lilian Poole. - -However, I had not the least doubt in my mind about winning success both -with her and with that even more jealous Mistress--The Law. In fact, I -quite meant to revolutionize things by the meteoric character of my -career. - -I started out well. I took a good office fronting on the street in one -of the best office-buildings--an extravagance I could not afford. Peck -had a little dark hole on the other side of the hall. He made a half -proposal to share my office with me, but I could not stand that. I, -however, told him that he was welcome to use my office and books as much -as he pleased, and he soon made himself so much at home in my office -that I think he rather fell into the habit of thinking my clients his -own. - -Before I knew many people I worked hard; read law and a great deal of -other literature. But this did not last long, for I was social and made -acquaintances easily. Moreover, I soon began to get cases; though they -were too small to satisfy me--quite below my abilities, I thought. So, -unless they promised me a chance of speaking before a jury, I turned -them over to Peck, who would bone at them and work like a horse, though -I often had to hunt up the law for him, a labor I never knew him to -acknowledge. - -At first I used to correspond with both John Marvel and Wolffert; but -gradually I left their letters unanswered. John, who had gone West, was -too full of his country parish to interest me, and Wolffert's -abstractions were too altruistic for me. - -Meantime, I was getting on swimmingly. I was taken into the best social -set in the city, and was soon quite a favorite among them. I was made a -member of all the germans as well as of the best club in town; was -welcomed in the poker-game of "the best fellows" in town, and was -invited out so much that I really had no time to do much else than enjoy -my social success. But the chief of the many infallible proofs I had was -my restoration to Lilian Poole's favor. Since I was become a sort of -toast with those whose opinion she valued highly, she was more cordial -to me than ever, and I was ready enough to let by-gones be by-gones and -dangle around the handsomest girl in the State, daughter of a man who -was president of a big bank and director of a half-dozen corporations. I -was with her a great deal. In fact, before my second winter was out, my -name was coupled with hers by all of our set and many not in our set. -And about three evenings every week I was to be found basking in her -somewhat steady smile, either at some dance or other social -entertainment; strolling with her in the dusk on our way home from the -fashionable promenade of ---- Street--which, for some reason, she always -liked, though I would often have preferred some quieter walk--or -lounging on her plush-covered sofa in her back drawing-room. I should -have liked it better had Peck taken the hint that most of my other -friends had taken and kept away from her house on those evenings which -by a tacit consent of nearly every one were left for my visits. But -Peck, who now professed a great friendship for me, must take to coming -on precisely the evenings I had selected for my calls. He never wore a -collar that fitted him, and his boots were never blacked. Miss Lilian -used to laugh at him and call him "the burr"--indeed, so much that I -more than once told her, that while I was not an admirer of Peck -myself, I thought the fact that he was really in love with her ought to -secure him immunity from her sarcasm. We had quite a stiff quarrel over -the matter, and I told her what our old law professor had said of Peck. - -I had rather thought that, possibly, Mr. Poole, knowing of the growing -relation of intimacy between myself and his daughter, would throw a -little of his law business my way; but he never did. He did, in fact, -once consult me at his own house about some extensive interests that he -owned and represented together in a railway in a Western city; but -though I took the trouble to hunt up the matter and send him a brief on -the point carefully prepared, he did not employ me, and evidently -considered that I had acted only as a friend. It was in this -investigation that I first heard of the name Argand and also of the P. -D. and B. D. R.R. Co. I heard long afterward that he said I had too many -interests to suit him; that he wanted a lawyer to give him all his -intellect, and not squander it on politics, literature, sport, and he -did not know what besides. This was a dig at my rising aspirations in -each of these fields. For I used to write now regularly for the -newspapers, and had one or two articles accepted by a leading monthly -magazine--a success on which even Peck congratulated me, though he said -that, as for him, he preferred the law to any other entertainment. My -newspaper work attracted sufficient attention to inspire me with the -idea of running for Congress, and I began to set my traps and lay my -triggers for that. - -Success appeared to wait for me, and my beginning was "meteoric." - -Meteoric beginnings are fatal. The meteor soon fades into outer -darkness--the outer darkness of the infinite abyss. I took it for -success and presumed accordingly, and finally I came down. I played my -game too carelessly. I began to speculate--just a little at first; but -more largely after awhile. There I appeared to find my proper field; for -I made money almost immediately, and I spent it freely, and, after I had -made a few thousands, I was regarded with respect by my little circle. - -I began to make money so much more easily by this means than I had ever -done by the law that I no longer thought it worth while to stay in my -office, as I had done at first, but spent my time, in a flock of other -lambs, in front of a blackboard in a broker's office, figuring on -chances which had already been decided in brokers' offices five hundred -miles away. Thus, though I worked up well the cases I had, and was -fairly successful with them, I found my clients in time drifting away to -other men not half as clever as I was, who had no other aim than to be -lawyers. Peck got some of my clients. Indeed, one of my clients in -warning me against speculating, which, he said, ruined more young men -than faro and drink together, told me he had learned of my habit through -Peck. Peck was always in his office or mine. I had made some reputation, -however, as a speaker, and as I had taken an active part in politics and -had many friends, I stood a good chance for the commonwealth's -attorneyship; but I had determined to fly higher: I wanted to go to -Congress. - -I kept a pair of horses now, since I was so successful, and used to hunt -in the season with other gay pleasure-lovers, or spend my afternoons -riding with Miss Poole, who used to look well on horseback. We often -passed Peck plodding along alone, stolid and solemn, "taking his -constitutional," he said. I remember once as we passed him I recalled -what the old professor had said of him, and I added that I would not be -as dull as Peck for a fortune. "Do you know," said Miss Poole, suddenly, -"I do not think him so dull; he has improved." Peck sat me out a few -nights after this, and next day I nearly insulted him; but he was too -dull to see it. - -I knew my young lady was ambitious; so I determined to please her, and, -chucking up the fight for the attorneyship, I told her I was going to -Congress, and began to work for it. I was promised the support of so -many politicians that I felt absolutely sure of the nomination. - -Peck told me flatly that I did not stand the ghost of a show; and began -to figure. Peck was always figuring. He advised me to stand for the -attorneyship, and said I might get it if I really tried. I knew better, -however, and I knew Peck, too, so I started in. To make a fight I wanted -money, and it happened that a little trip I had taken in the summer, -when I was making a sort of a splurge, together with an unlooked-for and -wholly inexplicable adverse turn in the market had taken all my cash. -So, to make it up, I went into the biggest deal I ever tried. What was -the use of fooling about a few score dollars a point when I could easily -make it a thousand? I would no longer play at the shilling-table. I had -a "dead-open-and-shut thing" of it. I had gotten inside information of a -huge railroad deal quietly planned, and was let in as a great favor by -influential friends, who were close friends of men who were manipulating -the market, and especially the P. D. and B. D., a North-western road -which had been reorganized some years before. Mr. Poole had some -interest in it and this made me feel quite safe as to the deal. I knew -they were staking their fortunes on it. I was so sure about it that I -even advised Peck, for whom I had some gratitude on account of his -advice about the attorneyship, to let me put him in for a little. But he -declined. He said he had other use for his money and had made it a rule -not to speculate. I told him he was a fool, and I borrowed all I could -and went in. - -It was the most perfectly managed affair I ever saw. We--our -friends--carried the stock up to a point that was undreamed of, and -money was too valuable to pay debts with, even had my creditors wanted -it, which they did not, now that I had recouped and was again on the -crest of the wave. I was rich and was doubling up in a pyramid, when one -of those things happened that does not occur once in ten million times -and cannot be guarded against! We were just prepared to dump the whole -business, when our chief backer, as he was on his way in his carriage to -close the deal, was struck by lightning! I was struck by the same bolt. -In twenty minutes I was in debt twenty thousand dollars. Telegrams and -notices for margin began to pour in on me again within the hour. None of -them bothered me so much, however, as a bank notice that I had -overchecked an account in which I had a sum of a few hundred dollars -belonging to a client of mine--an old widowed lady, Mrs. Upshur, who had -brought it to me to invest for her, and who trusted me. She had been -robbed by her last agent and this was really all that was left her. I -remembered how she had insisted on my keeping it for her against the -final attack of the wolf, she had said. "But suppose I should spend it," -I had said jesting. "I'm not afraid of your spending it, but of -myself--I want so many things. If I couldn't trust you, I'd give up." -And now it was gone. It came to me that if I should die at that moment -she would think I had robbed her, and would have a right to think so. I -swear that at the thought I staggered, and since then I have always -known how a thief must sometimes feel. It decided me, however. I made up -my mind that second that I would never again buy another share of stock -on a margin as long as I lived, and I wrote telegrams ordering every -broker I had to sell me out and send me my accounts, and I mortgaged my -old home for all I could get. I figured that I wanted just one hundred -dollars more than I had. I walked across the hall into Peck's little -dark office. He was poring over a brief. I said, "Peck, I am broke." - -"What? I am sorry to hear it--but I am not surprised." He was perfectly -cool, but did look sorry. - -"Peck," I went on, "I saw you pricing a watch the other day. Here is one -I gave three hundred dollars for." I showed him a fine chronometer -repeater I had bought in my flush time. - -"I can't give over a hundred dollars for a watch," he said. - -"How much will you give me for this?" - -"You mean with the chain?" - -"Yes"--I had not meant with the chain, but I thought of old Mrs. Upshur. - -"I can't give over a hundred." - -"Take it," and I handed it to him and he gave me a hundred-dollar bill, -which I took with the interest and handed, myself, to my old lady, whom -I advised to let Peck invest for her on a mortgage. This he did, and I -heard afterward netted her six per cent--for a time. - -That evening I went to see Lilian Poole. I had made up my mind quickly -what to do. That stroke of lightning had showed me everything just as it -was, in its ghastliest detail. If she accepted me, I would begin to work -in earnest, and if she would wait, as soon as I could pay my debts, I -would be ready; if not, then--! However, I walked right in and made a -clean breast of it, and I told her up and down that if she would marry -me I would win. I shall never forget the picture as she stood by the -heavy marble mantel in her father's rich drawing-room, tall and -uncompromising and very handsome. She might have been marble herself, -like the mantel, she was so cold, and I, suddenly aroused by the shock, -was on fire with resolve and fierce hunger for sympathy. She did not -hesitate a moment; and I walked out. She had given me a deep wound. I -saw the sun rise in the streets. - -Within two weeks I had made all my arrangements; had closed up my -affairs; given up everything in the world I had; executed my notes to my -creditors and told them they were not worth a cent unless I lived, in -which case they would be worth principal and interest; sold my law books -to Peck for a price which made his eyes glisten, had given him my office -for the unexpired term, and was gone to the West. - -The night before I left I called to see the young lady again--a piece of -weakness. But I hated to give up. - -She looked unusually handsome. - -I believe if she had said a word or had looked sweet at me I might have -stayed, and I know I should have remained in love with her. But she did -neither. When I told her I was going away, she said, "Where?" That was -every word--in just such a tone as if she had met me on the corner, and -I had said I was going to walk. She was standing by the mantel with her -shapely arm resting lightly on the marble. I said, "God only knows, but -somewhere far enough away." - -"When are you coming back?" - -"Never." - -"Oh, yes, you will," she said coolly, arranging a bracelet, so coolly -that it stung me like a serpent and brought me on my feet. - -"I'll be--! No, I will not," I said. "Good-by." - -"Good-by." She gave me her hand and it was as cool as her voice. - -"Good-by." And mine was as cold as if I were dead. I swear, I believe -sometimes I did die right there before her and that a new man took my -place within me. At any rate my love for her died, slain by the ice in -her heart; and the foolish fribble I was passed into a man of -resolution. - -As I walked out of her gate, I met Peck going in, and I did not care. I -did not even hate him. I remember that his collar was up to his ears. I -heard afterward that she accepted him that same week. For some -inexplicable reason I thought of John Marvel as I walked home. I -suddenly appeared nearer to him than I had done since I left college, -and I regretted not having answered his simple, affectionate letters. - -I started West that night. - - - - -VII - -THE HEGIRA - - -In my ménage was a bull-terrier puppy--brindled, bow-legged and bold--at -least, Jeams declared Dix to be a bull-pup of purest blood when he sold -him to me for five dollars and a suit of clothes that had cost sixty. I -found later that he had given a quarter for him to a negro stable-boy -who had been sent to dispose of him. Like the American people, he was of -many strains; but, like the American people, he proved to have good -stuff in him, and he had the soul of a lion. One eye was bleared, a -memento of some early and indiscreet insolence to some decisive-clawed -cat; his ears had been crookedly clipped and one perked out, the other -in, and his tail had been badly bobbed; but was as expressive as the -immortal Rab's eloquent stump. He feared and followed Jeams, but he -adored me. And to be adored by woman or dog is something for any man to -show at the last day. To lie and blink at me by the hour was his chief -occupation. To crawl up and lick my hand, or failing that, my boot, was -his heaven. - -I always felt that, with all my faults, which none knew like myself, -there must be some basic good in me to inspire so devoted a love. - -When I determined to leave for the West the night of my final break with -Lilian Poole, in my selfishness I forgot Dix; but when I reached home -that night, sobered and solitary, there was Dix with his earnest, -adoring gaze, his shrewd eye fixed on me, and his friendly twist of the -back. His joy at my mere presence consoled me and gave me spirit, though -it did not affect my decision. - -Jeams, who had followed me from college, at times hung around my office, -carried Miss Poole my notes and flowers and, in the hour of my -prosperity, blossomed out in a gorgeousness of apparel that partly -accounted for my heavy expense account, as well as for the rapid -disappearance of the little private stock I occasionally kept or tried -to keep in a deceptive-looking desk which I used as a sideboard for -myself and friends. He usually wore an old suit of mine, in which he -looked surprisingly well, but on occasions he wore a long-tailed coat, a -red necktie and a large soft, light hat which, cocked on the side of his -head, gave him the air of an Indian potentate. I think he considered -himself in some sort a partner. He always referred to me and my business -as "us" and "our" business, and, on some one's asking him derisively if -he were a partner of mine, he replied, "Oh, no, sir, only what you might -term a minor connectee of the Captain." He was, however, a very useful -fellow, being ready to do anything in the world I ordered, except when -he was tight or had some piece of rascality on foot--occasions by no -means rare. He wore, at election time, a large and flaming badge -announcing that he was something in his party--the opposite party to -mine; but I have reason to believe that when I was in politics he -perjured himself freely and committed other crimes against the purity -of the ballot on which economists declare all Representative Government -is founded. One of my ardent friends once informed me that he thought I -ought not to allow Jeams to wear that badge--it was insulting me openly. -I told him that he was a fool, that I was so afraid Jeams would insist -on my wearing one, too, I was quite willing to compromise. In fact, I -had gotten rather dependent on him. Then he and I held such identical -views as to Peck, not to mention some other mutual acquaintances, and -Jeams could show his contempt in such delightfully insolent ways. - -I had intimated to Jeams some time before, immediately after my first -serious reverse in the stock market, that I was no longer as flush as I -had been, and that unless affairs looked up I might move on to fresh -pastures--or, possibly, I put it, to a wider field for the exercise of -my powers; whereupon he promptly indicated his intention to accompany me -and share my fortune. But I must say, he showed plainly his belief that -it was a richer pasture which I was contemplating moving into, and he -viewed the prospect with a satisfaction much like that of a cat which, -in the act of lapping milk, has cream set before it. The only thing that -puzzled him was that he could not understand why I wanted more than I -had. He said so plainly. - -"What you want to go 'way for, Cap'n? Whyn't you stay where you is? You -done beat 'em all--evy one of 'em----" - -"Oh! no, I haven't." - -"Go 'way f'om here--you is an' you know you is--dthat's the reason you -carry yo' head so high." (He little knew the true reason.) "An' if you -hadn't, all you got to do is to walk in yonder--up yonder (with a toss -of his head in the direction of Miss Poole's home), an' hang up your -hat, and den you ain got nuthin' to do but jus' write yo' checks." - -I laughed at Jeams's idea of the situation, and of old Poole's -son-in-law's position. But it was rather a bitterer laugh than he -suspected. To soothe my conscience and also to draw him out, I said, -though I did not then really think it possible: - -"Why, she's going to marry Peck." - -Jeams turned around and actually spat out his disgust. - -"What, dthat man!" Then, as he looked at me to assure himself that I was -jesting, and finding a shade less amusement in my countenance than he -had expected, he uttered a wise speech. - -"Well, I tell you, Cap'n--if dthat man gits her he ought to have her, -'cause he done win her an' you ain't know how to play de game. You done -discard de wrong card." - -I acknowledged in my heart that he had hit the mark, and I laughed a -little less bitterly, which he felt--as did Dix, lying against my foot -which he suddenly licked twice. - -"An' I'll tell you another thing--you's well rid of her. Ef she likes -dthat man bes', let him have her, and you git another one. Der's plenty -mo,' jes' as good and better, too, and you'll meck her sorry some day. -Dthat's de way I does. If dey wants somebody else, I let's 'em have 'em. -It's better to let 'em have 'em befo' than after." - -When Jeams walked out of my room, he had on a suit which I had not had -three months, and a better suit than I was able to buy again in as many -years. But he had paid me well for it. I had in mind his wise saying -when I faced Lilian Poole without a cent on earth, with all gone except -my new-born resolution and offered her only myself, and as I walked out -of her gate I consoled myself with Jeams's wisdom. - -When I left Miss Poole I walked straight home, and having let nobody -know, I spent the evening packing up and destroying old letters and -papers and odds and ends; among them, all of Lilian Poole's letters and -other trash. At first, I found myself tending to reading over and -keeping a few letters and knickknacks; but as I glanced over the letters -and found how stiff, measured, and vacant her letters were as compared -with my burning epistles, in which I had poured out my heart, my wrath -rose, and I consigned them all to the flames, whose heat was the only -warmth they had ever known. - -I was in the midst of this sombre occupation, with no companion but my -angry reflections and no witness but Dix, who was plainly aware that -something unusual was going on and showed his intense anxiety, in the -only method that dull humanity has yet learned to catalogue as Dog-talk: -by moving around, wagging his stump of a twist-tail and making odd, -uneasy sounds and movements. His evident anxiety about me presently -attracted my attention, and I began to think what I should do with him. -I knew old Mrs. Upshur would take and care for him as she would for -anything of mine; but Dix, though the best tempered of canines, had his -standards, which he lived up to like a gentleman, and he brooked no -insolence from his inferiors or equals and admitted no superiors. -Moreover, he needed out-door exercise as all sound creatures do, and -this poor, old decrepit Mrs. Upshur could not give him. I discarded for -one reason or another my many acquaintances, and gradually Jeams took -precedence in my mind and held it against all reasoning. He was drunken -and worthless--he would possibly, at times, neglect Dix, and at others, -would certainly testify his pride in him and prove his confidence by -making him fight; but he adored the dog and he feared me somewhat. As I -wavered there was a knock and Jeams walked in. He was dressed in my long -frock coat and his large, gray hat was on the back of his head--a sure -sign that he was tight, even had not his dishevelled collar and necktie -and his perspiring countenance given evidence of his condition. As he -stood in the door, his hand went up to his hat; but at sight of the -room, he dropped it before he could reach the hat and simply stared at -me in blank amazement. - -"Hi! What you doin'?" he stammered. - -[Illustration: "Hi! What you doin'?" he stammered.] - -"Packing up." - -"Where you goin'?" - -"Going away." - -"When you comin' back?" - -"Never." - -"What! Well, damned if I ain' gwine wid you, then." - -The tone was so sincere and he was evidently so much in earnest that a -lump sprang into my throat. I turned away to keep him from seeing that I -was moved, and it was to keep him still from finding it out, that I -turned on him with well feigned savageness as he entered the room. - -"You look like going with me, don't you! You drunken scoundrel! Take -your hat off, sir"--for in his confusion he had wholly forgotten his -manners. They now came back to him. - -"Ixcuse me--Cap'n" (with a low bow). "Ixcuse me, suh. I al'ays removes -my hat in the presence of the ladies and sech distinguished gent'mens as -yourself, suh; but, Cap'n----" - -"Drunken rascal!" I muttered, still to hide my feeling. - -"Cap'n--I ain' drunk--I'll swear I ain' had a drink not in--" He paused -for an appropriate term and gave it up. "--Not in--I'll swear on a stack -of Bibles as--as high as Gen'l Washin's monument--you bring it heah--is -you got a Bible? You smell my breath!" - -"Smell your breath! I can't smell anything but your breath. Open that -window!" - -"Yes, suh," and the window was meanderingly approached, but not reached, -for he staggered slightly and caught on a chair. - -"Cap'n, I ain' had a drink for a year--I'll swear to dthat. I'll prove -it to you. I ain' had a cent to buy one wid in a month--I was jus' -comin' roun' to ast you to gi' me one--jus' to git de dust out o' my -throat." - -"Dust! Clean those things up there and get some dust in your throat." - -"Yes, suh--yes, suh--Cap'n"--insinuatingly, as his eye fell on Dix, who -was standing looking attentively first at me and then at Jeams, -completely mystified by my tone, but ready to take a hand if there was -any need for him. "Cap'n----" - -"Well, what is it? What do you want now?" - -"Will you lend me a hundred?" - -"A hundred dollars?" - -"Yes, suh--you see----" - -"No. I'll give you a hundred licks if you don't get to work and clean up -that floor." - -"Cap'n--yes, suh--I'm gwine to clean 't up--but, Cap'n----" - -"Well?" - -"I'll let you in--jes' len' me ten--or five--or jes' one dollar--hit's a -cinch--Lord! I can meck ten for one jist as easy--Dee don' know him--Dee -think he ain' nuthing but a cur dawg--dats what I told 'em. And I'll -meck you all de money in the worl'--I will dat." - -"What are you talking about?" - -"Well, you see, hits dthis away--I wouldn't bother you if dat yaller -bar-keeper nigger hadn' clean me up wid them d----d loaded bones of -hisn--jis' stole it from me--yes, suh--jis'----" - -"Cleaned you up? When?" - -"Dthis very evenin'--I had seventeen dollars right in my pocket, heah. -You ax Mr. Wills if I didn't. He seen me have it--I had jes' got it, -too----" - -"You liar--you just now told me you hadn't had a cent in a month, and -now you say you had seventeen dollars this evening." Jeams reared -himself up. - -"I toll you dthat?" He was now steadying himself with great gravity and -trying to keep his eyes fixed on me. - -"Yes." - -"No, sir. I never toll you dthat in this worl'! 'Cause 'twould a been a -lie--and I wouldn' tell you a lie for nuthin' on earth--I never had no -seventeen dollars." - -"I know you didn't--I know that's true, unless you stole it; but you -said----" - -"No, sir--what I said was--dthat if you'd len' me seventeen dollars I'd -take Dix there and kill any dawg dthat yaller nigger up yonder in the -Raleigh Hotel could trot out--I didn' keer what he was--and I said -I'd--give you a hundred dollars out of the skads I picked up--dthat's -what I said, and you got it wrong." - -"You'll do what?" - -"You see, hit's this away--dthat big-moufed, corn-fed yaller nigger--he -was allowin' dthat Mr. Mulligan had a dawg could chaw up any dawg dis -side o' torment, and I 'lowed him a ten dthat I had one 's could lick -H--l out o' any Mulligan or Mulligan's dawg top o' groun'--'n' dthat -you'd len' me th' ten to put up." - -"Well, you've lost one ten anyway--I won't lend you a cent, and if I -catch you fighting Dix, I'll give you the worst lambing you ever had -since Justice John had you skinned for stealing those chickens." - -Jeams threw up his eyes in reprobation. - -"Now, Cap'n--you know I never stole dem stags--dthat old jestice he jes' -sentenced me 'cause you was my counsel an' cause' I was a nigger an' he -had'n had a chance at me befo'--I bet if I'd give' him half de money -'sted o' payin' you, he'd a' let me off mighty quick." - -"Pay me! you never paid me a cent in your life." - -"Well, I promised to pay you, didn' I? An' ain't dthat de same thin'?" - -"Not by a big sight----" - -"Dthat's de way gent'mens does." - -"Oh! do they?" - -Jeams came back to the main theme. - -"Mr. Hen, ain' you gwine let me have dem ten dollars, sho' 'nough? Hit's -jes' like pickin' money up in de road: Dix kin kill dat dawg befo' you -ken say Jack Roberson." - -"Jeams," I said, "look at me!" - -"Yes, suh, I'm lookin'," and he was. - -"I am going away to-night----" - -"Well, I'm gwine width you, I ain' gwine stay heah by myself after you -and Dix is gone." - -"No, you can't do that. I don't know yet exactly where I am going, I -have not yet decided. I am going West--to a big city." - -"Dthat's where I want to go--" interrupted Jeams. - -"And when I get settled I'll send for Dix--I'm going to leave him with -you." - -"Yes, suh, I'll teck keer of him sure. I'll match him against any dawg -in dthis town--he can kill dthat dawg of dthat yaller nigger's----" - -"No, if you put him in a fight, I'll kill you the first time I see -you--d'you hear?" - -"Yes, suh--I ain' gwine put him in no fight. But ef he gits in a -fight--you know he's a mighty high-spirited dawg--he don' like dawgs to -come nosin' roun' him. Hit sort o' aggrivates him. An' ef he -should----?" - -"I'll whip you as sure as you live----" - -"Jes' ef he should?" - -"Yes--if you let him." - -"No, suh, I ain' gwine let him. You lef him wid me." - -And though I knew that he was lying, I was content to leave the dog with -him; for I was obliged to leave him with someone, and I knew he loved -this dog and hoped my threat would, at least, keep him from anything -that might hurt him. - -I drifted out to the Club later and casually dropped the information -that I was going away. I do not think it made much impression on my -friends there--in fact, I hardly think they took the information -seriously. They were a kindly lot, but took life and me lightly. - -When I left town at midnight, the rain was pouring down and there was no -one at the dreary station to see me off but Jeams and Dix, and as the -train pulled out I stood on the platform to say good-by to Jeams, who -was waving his right hand sadly, while with the other he gripped the -collar of the dejected Dix who, with his eyes on me, struggled -spasmodically and viciously. - -Suddenly Dix turned on his captor with a snarl and snap which startled -Jeams so that he let him go, then whirling about, he tore after the -train which was just beginning to quicken its speed. He had to rush over -ties and switch-rods, but he caught up and made a spring for the step. -He made good his footing, but Jeams was running and waving wildly and, -with his voice in my ears, I pushed the dog off with my foot and saw him -roll over between the tracks. Nothing daunted, however, he picked -himself up, and with another rush, sprang again for the step. This time -only his forefeet caught and he hung on by them for a second, then began -to slip--inch by inch he was slipping off as I stood watching him, when, -under an impulse, fearing that he might be killed, I hastily, and with a -sudden something in my throat, reached down and caught him just in time -to pull him up, and taking him in my arms I bore him into the car. I -confess that, as I felt him licking my hands, a warmer feeling than I -had had for some time came around my heart which had been like a lump of -ice during these last days, and I was glad no one was near by who knew -me. I made up my mind that, come what might, I would hold on to my one -faithful friend. - - - - -VIII - -PADAN-ARAM - - -I first went to the town in which lived the relative, the cousin of my -father's whom I have mentioned. It was a bustling, busy city and he was -reputed the head of the Bar in his State--a man of large interests and -influence. I knew my father's regard for him. I think it was this and -his promise about me that made me go to him now. I thought he might help -me, at least with advice; for I had his name. - -I left my trunk and Dix at the hotel and called on him at his large -office. In my loneliness, I was full of a new-born feeling of affection -for this sole kinsman. I thought, perhaps, he might possibly even make -me an offer to remain with him and eventually succeed to his practice. I -had not seen him two seconds, however, before I knew this was folly. -When I had sent in my name by an obtrusive-eyed office-boy, I was kept -waiting for some time in the outer office where the office-boy loudly -munched an apple, and a couple of clerks whispered to each other with -their eyes on the private office-door. And when I was ushered in, he -gave me a single keen look as I entered and went on writing without -asking me to sit down, and I would not sit without an invitation. When -he had finished he looked up, and nodded his head with a sort of jerk -toward a chair. He was a large man with a large head, short gray hair, -a strong nose, a heavy chin, and gray eyes close together, without the -kindliness either of age or of youth. I took a step toward him and in -some embarrassment began to speak rapidly. I called him "Cousin," for -blood had always counted for a great deal with us, and I had often heard -my father speak of him with pride. But his sharp look stopped me. - -"Take a seat," he said, more in a tone of command than of invitation, -and called me "Mister." It was like plunging me into a colder -atmosphere. I did not sit down, but I was so far into my sentence I -could not well stop. So I went on and asked him what he thought of my -settling there, growing more and more embarrassed and hot with every -word. - -"Have you any money?" he asked shortly. - -"Not a cent." - -"Well, I have none to lend you. You need not count on me. I would -advise--" But I did not wait for him to finish. I had got hold of myself -and was self-possessed enough now. - -"I did not ask you to lend me any money, either," I said, straightening -myself up. "I did ask you to give me some advice; but now I do not want -that or anything else you have, d----n you! I made a mistake in coming -to you, for I am abundantly able to take care of myself." - -Of course, I know now that he had something on his side. He supposed me -a weak, worthless dog, if not a "dead-beat." But I was so angry with him -I could not help saying what I did. I stalked out and slammed the door -behind me with a bang that made the glass in the sash rattle; and the -two or three young men, busy in the outer office, looked up in wonder. I -went straight to the hotel and took the train to the biggest city my -money would get me to. I thought a big city offered the best chances for -me, and, at least, would hide me. I think the fact that I had once -written a brief for Mr. Poole in the matter of his interest in car lines -there influenced me in my selection. - -I travelled that night and the next day and the night following, and -partly because my money was running low and partly on Dix's account, I -rode in a day-coach. The first night and day passed well enough, but the -second night I was tired and dusty and lonely. - -On the train that night I spent some serious hours. Disappointment is -the mother of depression and the grandmother of reflection. I took stock -of myself and tried to peer into the dim and misty future, and it was -gloomy work. Only one who has started out with the world in fee, and -after throwing it away in sheer recklessness of folly, suddenly hauls up -to find himself bankrupt of all he had spurned in his pride: a homeless -and friendless wanderer on the face of the earth, may imagine what I -went through. I learned that night what the exile feels; I dimly felt -what the outcast experiences. And I was sensible that I had brought it -all on myself. I had wantonly wasted all my substance in riotous living -and I had no father to return to--nothing, not even swine to keep in a -strange land. I faced myself on the train that night, and the effigy I -gazed on I admitted to be a fool. - -The train, stuffy and hot, lagged and jolted and stopped, and still I -was conscious of only that soul-shifting process of self-facing. The -image of Peck, the tortoise, haunted me. At times I dozed or even slept -very soundly; though doubled up like a jack-knife, as I was, I could not -efface myself even in my sleep. But when I waked, there was still -myself--grim, lonely, homeless--haunting me like a stabbed corpse -chained to my side. - -I was recalled to myself at last by the whimpering of children packed in -a seat across the aisle from me. They had all piled in together the -first night somewhere with much excitement. They were now hungry and -frowsy and wretched. There were five of them, red-cheeked and dirty; -complaining to their mother who, worn and bedraggled herself, yet never -lost patience with one or raised her voice above the soothing pitch in -all her consoling. - -At first I was annoyed by them; then I was amused; then I wondered at -her, and at last, I almost envied her, so lonely was I and so content -was she with her little brood. - -Hitched on to the train the second night was a private car, said to be -that of someone connected with a vice-president of the road. The name of -the official, which I learned later, was the same as that of an old -college friend of my father's, and I had often heard my father mention -him as his successful rival with his first sweetheart, and he used to -tease my mother by recalling the charms of Kitty MacKenzie, the young -lady in question, whose red golden hair he declared the most beautiful -hair that ever crowned a mortal head--while my mother, I remember, -insisted that her hair was merely carroty, and that her beauty, though -undeniable, was distinctly of the milkmaid order--a shaft which was will -aimed, for my mother's beauty was of the delicate, aristocratic type. -The fact was that Mr. Leigh had been a suitor of hers before my father -met her, and having been discarded by her, had consoled himself with the -pretty girl, to whom my father had been attentive before he met and fell -"head over heels in love" with a new star at a college ball. - -Mr. Leigh, I knew, had gone West, and grown up to be a banker, and I -wondered vaguely if by any chance he could be the same person. - -The train should have reached my destination in time for breakfast, and -we had all looked forward to it and made our arrangements accordingly. -The engine, however, which had been put on somewhere during the night, -had "given out," and we were not only some hours late, but were no -longer able to keep steadily even the snail's pace at which we had been -crawling all night. The final stop came on a long upgrade in a stretch -of broken country sparsely settled, and though once heavily wooded, now -almost denuded. Here the engine, after a last futile, gasping effort, -finally gave up, and the engineer descended for the dozenth time to see -"what he could do about it." To make matters worse, the water in our -car had given out, and though we had been passing streams a little -before, there was no water in sight where we stopped. It soon became -known that we should have to wait until a brakeman could walk to the -nearest telegraph station, miles off, and have another engine despatched -to our aid from a town thirty or more miles away. So long as there had -been hope of keeping on, however faint, there had been measurable -content, and the grumbling which had been heard at intervals all the -latter part of the night had been sporadic and subdued; but now, when -the last hope was gone, and it was known that we were at last "stuck" -for good, there was an outbreak of ill-humor from the men, though the -women in the car still kept silent, partly subdued by their dishevelled -condition and partly because they were content for once, while listening -to the men. Now and then a man who had been forward would come back into -the car, and address someone present, or speak to the entire car, and in -the silence that fell every one listened until he had delivered himself. -But no one had yet given a satisfactory explanation of the delay. - -At last, a man who sat near me gave an explanation. "The engine lost -time because it had too heavy a load. It's a heavy train, anyway, and -they put a private car on and the engine could not pull it, that's all -that's the matter." He spoke with the finality of a judge, and sat back -in his seat, and we all knew that he had hit the mark, and given the -true cause. Henceforward he was regarded with respect. He really knew -things. I insensibly took note of him. He was a middle-sized, -plain-looking man with bright eyes and a firm mouth. Whether by a -coincidence or not, just at that moment something appeared to have given -way in the car: babies began to cry; children to fret, and the elders to -fume and grumble. In a short time every one in the car was abusing the -railroad and its management. Their inconsiderateness, their indifference -to the comfort of their passengers. - -"They pay no more attention to us and take no more care of us than if we -were so many cattle," growled a man. "I couldn't get a single berth last -night." He was a big, sour-looking fellow, who wore patent-leather shoes -on his large feet, and a silk hat, now much rubbed--and a dirty silk -handkerchief was tucked in his soiled collar, and in his soiled shirt -front showed a supposititious diamond. He was, as I learned later, named -Wringman, and was a labor-leader of some note. - -"Not as much as of cattle--for, at least, they water them," said -another, "they care nothing about our comfort." - -"Unless they ride in a Pullman," interjected the man near me, who had -explained the situation. - -The woman with the five children suddenly turned. "And that's true, -too," she said, with a glance of appreciation at him and a sudden flash -of hate at the big man with the diamond. Off and on all night the -children had, between naps, begged for water, and the mother had trudged -back and forth with the patience of an Egyptian water-carrier, but now -the water had given out, and the younger ones had been whimpering -because they were hungry. - -I went forward, and about the engine, where I stood for a time, looking -on while we waited, I heard further criticism of the road, but along a -different line, from the trainmen: - -"Well, I'll have to stand it," said one of them, the engineer, a man -past middle-age. "No more strikes for me. That one on the C. B. and B. -D. taught me a lesson. I was pretty well fixed then--had a nice house -and lot 'most paid for in the Building Company, and the furniture all -paid for, except a few instalments, and it all went. I thought we'd 'a' -starved that winter--and my wife's been sick ever since." - -"I know," said his friend, "but if they cut down we've got to fight. I'm -willin' to starve to beat 'em." - -"You may be; but you ain't got little children and a sick wife." - -A little later I saw the flashily dressed man with the dirty -handkerchief talking to him, and insisting that they should fight the -company: "We'll bring 'em to their knees," he said, with many oaths. The -engineer kept silence, the younger man assented warmly. - -I went back to my car. Presently matters grew so bad in the car that my -sympathies for the children were aroused, and I determined to see if I -could not ameliorate the conditions somewhat. I went back to the Pullman -car to see if there was any chance of buying some food: but the haggard -looking porter said there was nothing on the car. "They usually go in to -breakfast," he explained. My only chance would be the private car -behind. So, after I had been forward and ascertained that we would not -get away for at least an hour more, I went back and offered to look -after the older children of the little family. "I am going to take my -dog for a run; I'll take the little folks too." The mother with a baby -in her arms and a child, hardly more than a baby, tugging at her, looked -unutterably tired, and was most grateful to me. I took the older -children and went down the bank, and turning back, began to pick the -straggling wild flowers beside the track. As we passed the private car, -the door opened, and the cook tossed a waiterful of scraps out on the -ground on which both Dixie and the children threw themselves. But, -though there was plenty of bread, it had all been ruined by being in the -slop-water; so Dixie was soon left in undisturbed possession. - -A little beyond the end of the train we came on a young girl engaged in -the same occupation as ourselves. Her back was toward us, but her figure -was straight and supple, and her motions easy and full of spring. The -sight of the young lady so fresh and cool, with the morning sun shining -on a thick coil of shining hair, quite revived me. I drew near to get a -good look at her and also to be within shot of a chance to speak to her -should opportunity offer. If I were a novelist trying to describe her I -should say that she was standing just at the foot of a bank with a clump -of green bushes behind her, her arms full of flowers which she had -gathered. For all these were there, and might have been created there -for her, so harmonious were they with the fresh young face above them -and the pliant form which clasped them. I might further have likened her -to Proserpine with her young arms full of blossoms from Sicilian meads; -for she resembled her in other ways than in embracing flowers and -breathing fragrance as she stood in the morning light. But truth to -tell, it was only later that I thought of these. The first impression I -received, as it will be the last, was of her eyes. Dimples, and -snow-white teeth; changing expression where light and shadow played, -with every varying feeling, and where color came and went like roses -thrown on lilies, and lilies on roses, all came to me later on. But that -was in another phase. Her eyes were what I saw at first, and never since -have I seen the morning or the evening star swimming in rosy light but -they have come back to me. I remember I wore a blue suit and had on an -old yachting cap, which I had gotten once when on a short cruise with a -friend. I was feeling quite pleased with myself. She suddenly turned. - -"Are you the brakeman?" - -"No, I am not." I could scarcely help laughing at my sudden fall. "But -perhaps I can serve you?" I added. - -"Oh! I beg pardon! No, I thank you. I only wanted to ask--However, it is -nothing." - -Dix had, on being let out, and satisfying himself that I was coming -along, made a wild dash down the bank and alongside the train, and now -on his return rush, catching sight of the young lady in her fresh frock, -without waiting for the formality of an introduction, he made a dash -for her and sprang up on her as if he had known her all his life. I -called to him, but it was too late, and before I could stop him, he was -up telling her what after my first look at her I should have liked to -tell her myself: what a sweet charming creature we thought her. - -Dixie had no scruples of false pride inculcated by a foolish convention -of so-called society. He liked her and said so, and she liked him for -it, while I was glad to shine for a moment in the reflected glory of -being his master. - -"What a fine dog!" she exclaimed as she patted him, addressing the -children, who, with soiled clothes and tousled heads, were gazing at the -spick-and-span apparition in open-mouthed wonder. "How I envy you such a -dog." - -"He ain't ours, he belongs to him," said the child, pointing to me, as I -stooped at a little distance pretending to pull blossoms while I -listened. - -"Oh! Who is he? Is he your father?" My face was averted. - -"Oh! no. We don't know who he is; he just took us so." - -"Took you so?" - -"You see," explained the next older one, "our mother, she's got the baby -and Janet, and the gentleman, he said he would take us and get some wild -flowers, because we hadn't had any breakfast, and that dog"--But the dog -was forgotten on the instant. - -"Have not had any breakfast!" exclaimed the young lady with -astonishment. - -"No; you see, we had some bread last night, but that's given out. _She_ -ate the last piece last night--" (she pointed at the smallest -child)--"and we were so hungry; she cried, and Mamma cried, and that -gentleman----" - -By this time I had turned and I now stepped forward. I confess, that as -I turned, wrath was in my heart, but at sight of that horrified face, in -its sympathy, my anger died away. - -"Oh! and to think what I wasted! How did it happen?" - -"The train was late and they had expected to get in to breakfast, but -the engine gave out," I explained. - -"And they have not had any breakfast?" - -"No one on the train." - -"You see," chimed in the oldest girl, glad to be able to add -information, "the train's heavy anyway, and they put a private car on, -and it was more than the engine could pull, that's all that's the -matter." - -The young lady turned to me: - -"Do you mean that our car has caused all this trouble?" - -I nodded. "I don't know about 'all,' but it helped." - -"You poor little dears!" she said, rushing to the children, "come with -me." And, taking the youngest child by the hand, she hurried to the rear -steps of the car, with the others close behind, while Dixie, who -appeared to know what was in store, walked close beside her knee, as -much as to say, "Don't leave me out." - -As the train stood on an embankment, the step was too high for her to -climb up, so I offered to put the children up on the top step for her. -Then came the difficulty of her getting up herself. She called the -porter, but the door was shut and there was no answer. - -"Let me help you up, too," I said. "Here, you can reach the rail, and -step in my hand and spring up. I can help you perfectly well--as though -you were mounting a horse," I added, seeing her hesitate. And, without -giving her time to think, I stooped and lifted her to the step. As she -sprang up, the door opened, and a portly lady, richly dressed and with -several diamond rings on, came out on the platform. She gazed on the -little group with astonishment. - -"Why, Eleanor, what is this? Who are these?" - -"They are some poor children, Aunt, who have had no breakfast, and I am -going to give them some." - -"Why, they can't come in here, my dear. Those dirty little brats come in -our car! It is impossible, my dear." - -"Oh, no, it is not, Aunty," said the young girl with a laugh, "they have -had no breakfast." - -"Give them food, my dear, if you please, but I beg you not to bring them -into this car. Look how dirty they are! Why, they might give us all some -terrible disease!" - -But Miss Eleanor had closed her ears to the plump lady's expostulations, -and was arranging with a surly servant for something to eat for the -children. And just then the question of their invasion of the car was -settled by the train's starting. I undertook to run forward alongside -the car, but seeing an open ravine ahead spanned by a trestle, and that -the train was quickening its speed, I caught Dixie and threw him up on -the rear platform, and then swung myself up after him. The rear door was -still unlocked, so I opened it to pass through the car. Just inside, the -elderly lady was sitting back in an arm-chair with a novel in her lap, -though she was engaged at the moment in softly polishing her nails. She -stopped long enough to raise her jewelled lorgnette, and take a shot at -me through it: - -"Are you the brakeman?" she called. - -"No, Madame," I said grimly, thinking, "Well, I must have a brakeman's -air to-day." - -"Oh! Will you ring that bell?" - -"Certainly." I rang and, passing on, was met by the porter coming to -answer the bell. - -"This is a private car," he said shortly, blocking my way. - -"I know it." I looked him in the eye. - -"You can't go th'oo this car." - -"Oh! yes, I can. I have got to go through it. Move out of my way." - -My tone and manner impressed him sufficiently, and he surlily moved -aside, muttering to himself; and I passed on, just conscious that the -stout lady had posted herself at the opening of the passage-way behind, -and had beckoned to the porter, who sprang toward her with alacrity. As -I passed through the open saloon, the young lady was engaged in -supplying my little charges with large plates of bread and butter, while -a grinning cook, in his white apron and cap, was bringing a yet further -supply. She turned and smiled to me as I passed. - -"Won't you have something, too? It is a very poor apology for a -breakfast; for we had finished and cleared away, but if----" - -"These little tots don't appear to think so," I said, my ill-humor -evaporating under her smile. - -"Well, won't you have something?" - -I declined this in my best Chesterfieldian manner, alleging that I must -go ahead and tell their mother what a good fairy they had found. - -"Oh! it is nothing. To think of these poor little things being kept -without breakfast all morning. My father will be very much disturbed to -find that this car has caused the delay." - -"Not if he is like his sister," I thought to myself, but I only bowed, -and said, "I will come back in a little while, and get them for their -mother." To which she replied that she would send them to their mother -by the porter, thereby cutting off a chance which I had promised myself -of possibly getting another glimpse of her. But the sight of myself at -this moment in a mirror hastened my departure. A large smudge of black -was across my face, evidently from a hand of one of the children. The -prints of the fingers in black were plain on my cheek, while a broad -smear ran across my nose. No wonder they thought me a brakeman. - -As I reached the front door of the car I found it locked and I could not -open it. At the same moment the porter appeared behind me. - -"Ef you'll git out of my way, I'll open it," he said in a tone so -insolent that my gorge rose. - -I stood aside and, still muttering to himself, he unlocked the door, and -with his hand on the knob, stood aside for me to pass. As I passed I -turned to look for Dixie, who was following me, and I caught the words, -"I'se tired o' po' white folks and dogs in my car." At the same moment -Dixie passed and he gave him a kick, which drew a little yelp of -surprise from him. My blood suddenly boiled. The door was still open -and, quick as light, I caught the porter by the collar and with a yank -jerked him out on the platform. The door slammed to as he came, and I -had him to myself. With my hand still on his throat I gave him a shake -that made his teeth rattle. - -"You black scoundrel," I said furiously. "I have a good mind to fling -you off this train, and break your neck." The negro's face was ashy. - -"Indeed, boss," he said, "I didn' mean no harm in the world by what I -said. If I had known you was one of dese gentlemens, I'd 'a' never said -a word; nor suh, that I wouldn'. An' I wouldn' 'a' tetched your dorg for -nuthin', no suh." - -"Well, I'll teach you something," I said. "I'll teach you to keep a -civil tongue in your head, at least." - -"Yes, suh, yes, suh," he said, "I always is, I always tries to be, I -just didn't know; nor suh, I axes your pardon. I didn' mean nuthin' in -the worl'." - -"Now go in there and learn to behave yourself in the future," I said. - -"Yes, suh, I will." And, with another bow, and a side look at Dix, who -was now growling ominously, he let himself in at the door and I passed -on forward. - - - - -IX - -I PITCH MY TENT - - -When, a little later, my small charges were brought back to their mother -(to whom I had explained their absence), it was by the young lady -herself, and I never saw a more grateful picture than that young girl, -in her fresh travelling costume, convoying those children down the car -aisle. Her greeting of the tired mother was a refreshment, and a minute -after she had gone the mother offered me a part of a substantial supply -of sandwiches which she had brought her, so that I found myself not -quite so much in sympathy as before with the criticism of the road that -was now being freely bandied about the car, and which appeared to have -made all the passengers as one. - -Not long after this we dropped the private car at a station and -proceeded on without it. We had, however, not gone far when we stopped -and were run into a siding and again waited, and after a time, a train -whizzed by us--a special train with but two private cars on it. It was -going at a clipping rate, but it did not run so fast that we did not -recognize the private car we had dropped some way back, and it soon -became known throughout our train that we had been side-tracked to let a -special with private cars have the right-of-way. I confess that my -gorge rose at this, and when the man in front of me declared that we -were the most patient people on earth to give public franchises, pay for -travelling on trains run by virtue of them, and then stand being shoved -aside and inconvenienced out of all reason to allow a lot of bloated -dead-heads to go ahead of us in their special trains, I chimed in with -him heartily. - -"Well, the road belongs to them, don't it?" inquired a thin man with a -wheezing voice. "That was Canter's private train, and he took on the -Argand car at that station back there." - -"'They own the road!' How do they own it? How did they get it?" demanded -the first speaker warmly. - -"Why, you know how they got it. They got it in the panic--that is, they -got the controlling interest." - -"Yes, and then ran the stock down till they had got control and then -reorganized and cut out those that wouldn't sell--or couldn't--the -widows and orphans and infants--that's the way they got it." - -"Well, the court upheld it?" - -"Yes, under the law they had had made themselves to suit themselves. You -know how 'twas! You were there when 'twas done and saw how they flung -their money around--or rather the Argand money--for I don't believe -Canter and his set own the stock at all. I'll bet a thousand dollars -that every share is up as collateral in old Argand's bank." - -"Oh! Well, it's all the same thing. They stand in together. They run the -bank--the bank lends money; they buy the stock and put it up for the -loan, and then run the road." - -"And us," chipped in the other; for they had now gotten into a high -good-humor with each other--"they get our franchises and our money, and -then side-track us without breakfast while they go sailing by--in cars -that they call theirs, but which we pay for. I do think we are the -biggest fools!" - -"That's Socialistic!" said his friend again. "You've been reading that -fellow's articles in the Sunday papers. What's his name?" - -"No, I've been thinking. I don't care what it is, it's the truth, and -I'm tired of it." - -"They say he's a Jew," interrupted the former. - -"I don't care what he is, it's the truth," asserted the other doggedly. - -"Well, I rather think it is," agreed his friend; "but then, I'm hungry, -and there isn't even any water on the car." - -"And they guzzle champagne!" sneered the other, "which we pay for," he -added. - -"You're a stockholder?" - -"Yes, in a small way; but I might as well own stock in a paving-company -to Hell. My father helped to build this road and used to take great -pride in it. They used to give the stockholders then a free ride once a -year to the annual meeting, and it made them all feel as if they owned -the road." - -"But now they give free passes not to the stockholders, but to the -legislators and the judges." - -"It pays better," said his friend, and they both laughed. It appeared, -indeed, rather a good joke to them--or, at least, there was nothing -which they could do about it, so they might as well take it -good-humoredly. - -By this time I had learned that my neighbor with the five children was -the wife of a man named McNeil, who was a journeyman machinist, but had -been thrown out of work by a strike in another city, and, after waiting -around for months, had gone North to find employment, and having at last -gotten it, had now sent for them to come on. She had not seen him for -months, and she was looking forward to it now with a happiness that was -quite touching. Even the discomforts of the night could not dull her joy -in the anticipation of meeting her husband--and she constantly -enheartened her droopy little brood with the prospect of soon seeing -their "dear Daddy." - -Finally after midday we arrived. - -I shall never forget the sight and smells of that station, if I live to -be a thousand years old. It seemed to me a sort of temporary -resting-place for lost souls--and I was one of them. Had Dante known it, -he must have pictured it, with its reek and grime. The procession of -tired, bedraggled travellers that streamed in through the black gateways -to meet worn watchers with wan smiles on their tired faces, or to look -anxiously and in vain for friends who had not come, or else who had come -and gone. And outside the roar of the grimy current that swept through -the black street. - -I had no one to look for; so, after helping my neighbor and her -frowsy little brood off, I sauntered along with Dix at my heel, -feeling about as lonely as a man can feel on this populated earth. -After gazing about and refusing sternly to meet the eye of any of -the numerous cabmen who wildly waved their whips toward me, shouting: -"Kebsuh--kebsuh--keb--keb--keb?" with wearying iteration, I had about -made up my mind to take the least noisy of them, when I became conscious -that my fellow-traveller, Mrs. McNeil with her little clan, was passing -out of the station unescorted and was looking about in a sort of lost -way. On my speaking to her, her face brightened for a moment, but -clouded again instantly, as she said, "Oh! sir, he's gone! He came to -meet me this morning; but the train was late and he couldn't wait or -he'd lose his job, so he had to go, and the kind man at the gate told me -he left the message for me. But however shall I get there with all the -children, for I haven't a cent left!" - -The tears welled up in her eyes as she came to her sad little -confession. And I said, "Oh! Well, I think we can manage it somehow. You -have his address?" - -"Oh! yes, sir, I have it here," and she pulled out an empty little -pocket-book from the breast of her worn frock, and while she gave the -baby to the eldest girl to hold, tremblingly opened the purse. In it was -only a crumpled letter and, besides this, a key--these were all. She -opened the letter tenderly and handed it to me. I read the address and -fastened it in my memory. - -"Now," I said, "we'll straighten this out directly." I turned and called -a hackman. "I want a carriage." - -There was a rush, but I was firm and insisted on a hack. However, as -none was to be had, I was fain to content myself with a one-horse cab of -much greater age than dimension. - -Bundling them in and directing the driver to go around and get the trunk -from the baggage-room, I mounted beside him and took Dix between my feet -and one of the children in my arms, and thus made my entry into the city -of my future home. My loneliness had somehow disappeared. - -My protégée's destination turned out to be a long way off, quite in one -of the suburbs of the city, where working people had their little -homes--a region I was to become better acquainted with later. As we -began to pass bakeries and cook-shops, the children began once more to -clamor to their mother for something to eat, on which the poor thing -tried to quiet them with promises of what they should have when they -reached home. But I could perceive that her heart was low within her, -and I stopped at a cook-shop and bought a liberal allowance of bread and -jam and cookies, on which the young things fell to like famished wolves, -while their mother overwhelmed me with blessings. - -We had not gone far, and were still in the centre of the city, when a -handsome open carriage drove by us, and as it passed, there sat in it -the young lady I had seen on the train, with a pleasant looking elderly -man, whom I conjectured to be her father, and who appeared in a very -good-humor with her or himself. As I was gazing at them, her eyes fell -full into mine, and after a half-moment's mystification, she recognized -me as I lifted my hat, and her face lit up with a pleasant smile of -recognition. I found my feelings divided between pleasure at her sweet -return of my bow and chagrin that she should find me in such a -predicament; for I knew what a ridiculous figure I must cut with the dog -between my feet and a frowsy child, thickly smeared with jam, in my -arms. In fact, I could see that the girl was talking and laughing -spiritedly with her father, evidently about us. I confess to a feeling -of shame at the figure I must cut, and I wondered if she would not think -I had lied to her in saying that I had never met them before. I did not -know that the smile had been for Dix. - -When we reached, after a good hour's drive, the little street for which -we were bound, I found my forecast fairly correct. The dingy little -house, on which was the rusted number given Mrs. McNeil in her husband's -letter, was shut up and bore no evidence of having been opened, except a -small flower-pot with a sprig of green in it in a dusty, shutterless -window. It was the sort of house that is a stove in summer and an -ice-box in the winter. And there was a whole street of them. After we -had knocked several times and I had tried to peep over the fence at the -end of the street, the door of an adjoining tenement opened, and a -slatternly, middle-aged woman peeped out. - -"Are you Mrs. McNeil?" she asked. - -"Yes." - -"Well, here's your key. Your man told me to tell you 't if you came -while he was at work, you'd find something to eat in the back room 't -he'd cooked this mornin' before he went to work. The train was late, he -said, and he couldn't wait; but he'd be home to-night, and he'd bring -some coal when he came. What a fine lot o' children you have. They ought -to keep you in cinders and wood. I wish I had some as big as that; but -mine are all little. My two eldest died of scarlet fever two years ago. -Drainage, they said." - -She had come out and unlocked the door and was now turning away. - -"I think your man had someone to take the up-stairs front room; but he -didn't come--you'll have to get someone to do it and you double up. The -Argand Estate charges such rent, we all have to do that. Well, if I can -help you, I'm right here." - -I was struck by her kindness to the forlorn stranger, and the latter's -touching recognition of it, expressed more in looks and in tone than in -words. - -Having helped them into the house, which was substantially empty, only -one room having even a pretence of furniture in it, and that merely a -bed, a mattress and a broken stove, I gave the poor woman a little of my -slender stock of money and left her murmuring her thanks and assurances -that I had already done too much for them. In fact, I had done nothing. - - * * * * * - -As my finances were very low, I determined to find a boarding-house -instead of wasting them at a hotel. I accordingly stopped at a sizable -house which I recognized as a boarding-house on a street in a -neighborhood which might, from the old houses with their handsome doors -and windows, have once been fashionable, though fashion had long since -taken its flight to a newer and gaudier part of the town, and the -mansions were now giving place to shops and small grocers' markets. A -wide door with a fan-shaped transom gave it dignity. A large wistaria -vine coiled up to the top of a somewhat dilapidated porch with classical -pillars lent it distinction. The landlady, Mrs. Kale, a pleasant -looking, kindly woman, offered me a small back-room on reasonable terms, -it being, as she said, the dull season; and, having arranged for Dix in -a dingy little livery stable near by, I took it "temporarily," till I -could look around. - -I found the company somewhat nondescript--ranging all the way from old -ladies with false fronts and cracked voices to uppish young travelling -men and their rather sad-looking wives. - -Among the boarders, the two who interested me most were two elderly -ladies, sisters, whose acquaintance I made the day after my arrival. -They did not take their meals at the common table, but, as I understood, -in their own apartment in the third story. They were a quaint and -pathetic pair, very meagre, very shabby, and manifestly very poor. There -was an air of mystery about them, and Mrs. Kale treated them with a -respect which she paid to no others of her variegated household. They -occasionally honored the sitting-room with their presence on Sunday -evenings, by Mrs. Kale's especial invitation, and I was much diverted -with them. They were known as the Miss Tippses; but Mrs. Kale always -spoke of them as "Miss Pansy" and "Miss Pinky." It seems that she had -known them in her youth, "back East." - -My acquaintance with the two old ladies at this time was entirely -accidental. The morning after my arrival, as I started out to look -around for an office, and also to take Dix for a walk, as well as to -take a look at the city, I fell in with two quaint-looking old women who -slipped out of the door just ahead of me, one of them slightly lame, and -each with a large bundle in her arms. They were dressed in rusty black, -and each wore a veil, which quite concealed her features. But as they -limped along, engaged in an animated conversation, their voices were so -refined as to arrest my attention, and I was guilty of the impropriety -of listening to them, partly out of sheer idleness, and partly because I -wanted to know something of my boarding-house and of my fellow boarders. -They were talking about a ball of the night before, an account of which -they had read in the papers, or rather, as I learned, in a copy of a -paper which they had borrowed, and they were as much interested in it as -if they had been there themselves. "Oh, wouldn't you have liked to see -it?" said one. "It must have been beautiful. I should have liked to see -Miss ----" (I could not catch the name). "She must have been exquisite -in chiffon and lace. She is so lovely anyhow. I did not know she had -returned." - -"I wonder Mr. ---- did not tell us." Again I failed to hear the name. - -"For a very good reason, I suppose. He did not know." - -"He is dead in love with her." - -"Oh, you are so romantic!" said the other, whom I took from her figure -and her feebleness to be the elder of the two. - -"No; but any one can tell that at a glance." - -"What a pity he could not marry her. Then we should be sure to see her -as a bride." - -The other laughed. "What an idea! We have nothing fit to go even to the -church in." - -"Why, we could go in the gallery. Oh, this bundle is so heavy! I don't -believe I can ever get there to-day." - -"Oh, yes, you can. Now come on. Don't give up. Here, rest it on the -fence a moment." - -As the lame one attempted to lift the bundle to rest it on the fence, it -slipped to the ground, and she gave a little exclamation of fear. - -"Oh, dear! suppose it should get soiled!" - -I stepped forward and lifted it for her, and to my surprise found it -very heavy. Then, as they thanked me, it occurred to me to offer to -carry the bundle for them to the street car for which I supposed them -bound. There was a little demur, and I added, "I am at Mrs. Kale's also. -I have just come." This appeared to relieve one of them at least, but -the other said, "Oh, but we are not going to the street car. We don't -ride in street cars." - -"Yes; it is so unhealthy," said the younger one. "People catch all sorts -of diseases on the car." - -Thinking them rather airy, I was about to hand the bundle back, but as I -was going their way I offered to carry the bundles for both of them as -far as I was going. This proved to be quite twenty blocks, for I could -not in decency return the bundles. So we went on together, I feeling at -heart rather ashamed to be lugging two large bundles through the streets -for two very shabby-looking old women whose names I did not know. We -soon, however, began to talk, and I drew out from them a good deal about -Mrs. Kale and her kindness. Also, that they had seen much better days, -to which one of them particularly was very fond of referring. It seemed -that they had lived East--they carefully guarded the exact place--and -had once had interests in a railroad which their father had built and -largely owned. They were manifestly anxious to make this clearly -understood. After his death they had lived on their dividends, until, on -a sudden, the dividends had stopped. They found that the railroad with -which their road connected had passed into new hands--had been "bought -up" by a great syndicate, their lawyer had informed them, and refused -any longer to make traffic arrangements with the road. This had -destroyed the value of their property, but they had refused to sell -their holdings at the low price offered--"As we probably ought to have -done," sighed one of them. - -"Not at all! I am glad we didn't," asserted the other. - -"Well, sister, we got nothing--we lost everything, didn't we?" - -"I don't know. I am only glad that we held out. That man knows that he -robbed us." - -"Well, that doesn't help us." - -"Yes, it does. It helps me to know that he knows it." - -"Who was it?" I asked. - -"Oh, there was a syndicate. I only know the names of two of them--a man -named Argand, and a man named Canter. And our lawyer was named McSheen." - -Argand was a name which I recalled in connection with Mr. Poole's -interest in the Railways in the case I have mentioned. - -"Well, you held on to your stock. You have it now, then?" I foresaw a -possible law-case against Argand, and wondered if he was the owner of -the Argand Estate, which I had already heard of twice since my arrival. - -"No," said one of them, "they bought up the stock of all the other -people, and then they did something which cut us out entirely. What was -it they did, sister?" - -"Reorganized." - -"And then we came on here to see about it, and spent everything else -that we had in trying to get it back, but we lost our case. And since -then----" - -"Well, sister, we are keeping the gentleman. Thank you very much," said -the younger of the two quickly, to which her sister added her thanks as -well. I insisted at first on going further with them, but seeing that -they were evidently anxious to be rid of me, I gave them their bundles -and passed on. - -Among the boarders one of those I found most interesting was a young man -named Kalender, by whom I sat at the first meal after my arrival, and -with whom I struck up an acquaintance. He was a reporter for a morning -paper of very advanced methods, and he was pre-eminently a person fitted -for his position: a cocky youth with a long, keen nose and a bullet head -covered with rather wiry, black hair, heavy black brows over keen black -eyes, and an ugly mouth with rather small yellowish teeth. He had as -absolute confidence in himself as any youth I ever met, and he either -had, or made a good pretence of having, an intimate knowledge of not -only all the public affairs of the city, but of the private affairs of -every one in the city. Before we had finished smoking our cigarettes he -had given me what he termed "the lay out" of the entire community, and -by his account it was "the rottenest ---- town in the universe"--a view -I subsequently had reason to rectify--and he proposed to get out of it -as soon as he could and go to New York, which, to his mind, was the only -town worth living in in the country (he having, as I learned later, -lived there just three weeks). - -His paper, he said frankly, paid only for sensational articles, and was -just then "jumping on a lot of the high-flyers, because that paid," but -"they" gave him a latitude to write up whatever he pleased, because they -knew he could dress up anything--from a murder to a missionary meeting. -"Oh! it don't matter what you write about," said he airily, "so you know -how to do it"--a bit of criticism suggestive of a better-known critic. - -I was much impressed by his extraordinary and extensive experience. In -the course of our conversation I mentioned casually the episode of the -delayed train and the private car. - -"The Argands' car, you say?" - -I told him that that was what some one had said. - -"That would make a good story," he declared. "I think I'll write that -up--I'd have all the babies dying and the mothers fainting and an -accident just barely averted by a little girl waving a red shawl, -see--while the Argand car dashed by with a party eating and drinking and -throwing champagne-bottles out of the window. But I've got to go and see -the Mayor to ascertain why he appointed the new city comptroller, and -then I've got to drop by the theatre and give the new play a roast--so -I'll hardly have time to roast those Argands and Leighs, though I'd like -to do it to teach them not to refuse me round-trip passes next time I -ask for them. I tell you what you do," he added, modestly, "you write it -up--you say you have written for the press?" - -"Oh! yes, very often--and for the magazines. I have had stories -published in----" - -"Well, that's all right." (Kalender was not a good listener.) "I'll look -it over and touch it up--put the fire in it and polish it off. You write -it up, say--about a column. I can cut it down all right--and I'll call -by here for it about eleven, after the theatre." - -It was a cool request--coolly made; but I was fool enough to accede to -it. I felt much aggrieved over the treatment of us by the railway -company, and was not sorry to air my grievance at the same time that I -secured a possible opening. I accordingly spent all the afternoon -writing my account of the inconvenience and distress occasioned the -travelling public by the inconsiderateness of the railway management, -discussing, by the way, the fundamental principle of ownership in -quasi-public corporations, and showing that all rights which they -claimed were derived from the people. I mentioned no names and veiled my -allusions; but I paid a tribute to the kind heart of the Angel of Mercy -who succored the children. I spent some hours at my composition and took -much pride in it when completed. Then, as I had not been out at all to -see the town, I addressed the envelope in which I had placed my story to -Mr. Kalender, and leaving it for him, walked out into the wilderness. - -On my return the paper was gone. - -Next morning I picked up one paper after another, but did not at first -find my contribution. An account of a grand ball the night before, at -which an extraordinary display of wealth must have been made, was given -the prominent place in most of them. But as I did not know the persons -whose costumes were described with such Byzantine richness of -vocabulary, I passed it by. The only thing referring to a railway -journey was a column article, in a sensational sheet called _The -Trumpet_, headed, BRUTALITY OF MILLIONAIRE BANKER. RAILWAY PRESIDENT -STARVES POOR PASSENGERS. There under these glaring headlines, I at last -discovered my article, so distorted and mutilated as to be scarcely -recognizable. The main facts of the delay and its cause were there as I -wrote them. My discussion of derivative rights was retained. But the -motive was boldly declared to be brutal hatred of the poor. And to make -it worse, the names of both Mr. Leigh and Mrs. Argand were given as -having been present in person, gloating over the misery they had caused, -while a young lady, whose name was not given, had thrown scraps out of -the window for starving children and dogs to scramble for. - -To say that I was angry expresses but a small part of the truth. The -allusion to the young lady had made my blood boil. What would she think -if she should know I had had a hand in that paper? I waited at red heat -for my young man, and had he appeared before I cooled down, he would -have paid for the liberty he took with me. When he did appear, however, -he was so innocent of having offended me that I could scarcely bear to -attack him. - -"Well, did you see our story?" he asked gayly. - -"Yes--your story--I saw----" - -"Well, I had to do a little to it to make it go," he said -condescendingly, "but you did very well--you'll learn." - -"Thank you. I don't want to learn that," I said hotly, "I never saw -anything so butchered. There was not the slightest foundation for all -that rot--it was made up out of whole cloth." I was boiling about Miss -Leigh. - -"Pooh-pooh! My dear boy, you'll never make an editor. I never fake an -interview," he said virtuously. "Lots of fellows do; but I don't. But if -a man will give me two lines, I can give him two columns--and good ones, -too. Why, we had two extras--what with that and the grand ball last -night. The newsboys are crying it all over town." - -"I don't care if they are. I don't want to be an editor if one has to -tell such atrocious lies as that. But I don't believe editors have to do -that, and I know reputable editors don't. Why, you have named a man who -was a hundred miles away." - -He simply laughed. - -"Well, I'm quite willing to get the credit of that paper. That's -business. We're trying to break down the Leigh interests, and the -Argands are mixed up with 'em. Coll McSheen was in the office last -night. He's counsel for the Argands, but--you don't know Coll McSheen?" - -"I do not," I said shortly. - -"He's deep. You know you write better than you talk," he added -patronizingly. "I tell you what I'll do--if you'll write me every day on -some live topic----" - -"I'll never write you a line again on any topic, alive or dead, unless -you die yourself, when I'll write that you are the biggest liar I ever -saw except my Jeams." - -I had expected he would resent my words, but he did not. He only -laughed, and said, "That's a good line. Write on that." - -I learned later that he had had a slight raise of salary on the paper he -palmed off as his. I could only console myself with the hope that Miss -Leigh would not see the article. - -But Miss Leigh did see the appreciation of her father in the writing of -which I had had a hand, and it cost me many a dark hour of sad -repining. - - - - -X - -A NEW GIRL - - -This is how the young lady heard of it. Miss Leigh had been at home but -an hour or two and had only had time to change her travelling costume -for a suit of light blue with a blue hat to match, which was very -becoming to her, and order the carriage to drive down and get her -father, when a visitor was announced: Miss Milly McSheen, an old -schoolmate--and next moment a rather large, flamboyante girl of about -Miss Leigh's own age or possibly a year or two older, bounced into the -room as if she had been shot in out of one of those mediæval engines -which flung men into walled towns. - -She began to talk volubly even before she was actually in the room; she -talked all through her energetic if hasty embrace of her friend, and all -the time she was loosening the somewhat complicated fastening of a -dotted veil which, while it obscured, added a certain charm to a round, -florid, commonplace, but good-humored face in which smiled two round, -shallow blue eyes. - -"Well, my dear," she began while yet outside the door, "I thought you -never were coming back! Never! And I believe if I hadn't finally made up -my mind to get you back you would have stayed forever in that nasty, -stuck-up city of Brotherly Love." - -Miss Leigh a little airily observed that that title applied to -Philadelphia, and she had only passed through Philadelphia on a train -one night. - -"Oh! well, it was some kind of love, I'll be bound, and some one's else -brother, too, that kept you away so long." - -"No, it was not--not even some one else's brother," replied Miss Leigh. - -"Oh! for Heaven's sake, don't tell me that's wrong. Why, I've been -practising that all summer. It sounds so grammatical--so New Yorkish." - -"I can't help it. It may be New Yorkish, but it isn't grammatical," said -Miss Leigh. "But I never expected to get back earlier. My Aunt had to -look into some of her affairs in the East and had to settle some matters -with a lawyer down South, a friend of my father's--an old gentleman who -used to be one of her husband's partners and is her trustee or -something, and I had to wait till they got matters settled." - -"Well, I'm glad you are here in time. I was so afraid you wouldn't be, -that I got Pa to telegraph and have your car put on the president's -special train that was coming through and had the right-of-way. I told -him that I didn't see that because your father had resigned from the -directory was any reason why you shouldn't be brought on the train." - -"Were we indebted to you for that attention?" Eleanor Leigh's voice had -a tone of half incredulity. - -"Yep--I am the power behind the throne just at present. Pa and old Mr. -Canter have buried the hatchet and are as thick as thieves since their -new deal, and Jim Canter told me his car was coming through on a -special. Oh! you ought to hear him the way he says, _My car_, and throws -his chest out! So I said I wanted him to find out where you were on the -road--on what train, I mean--and pick you up, and he said he would." - -"Oh! I see," said Miss Leigh, looking somewhat annoyed. - -"He did, didn't he?" - -"Yes." - -"Well, you know Jim Canter is a very promising young man, much more so -than he is a fulfiller. What are you so serious about? You look as----" - -"Nothing--only I don't wish to be beholden to--I was just wondering what -right we have to stop trains full of people who have paid for their -tickets and----" - -"What!" exclaimed the other girl in astonishment, "what right? Why, our -fathers are directors, aren't they--at least, my father is--and own a -block of the stock that controls----?" - -"Yes; but all these people--who pay--and who had no breakfast?" - -"Oh! don't you worry about them--they'll get along somehow--and if they -pay they'll look out for themselves without your doing it. My way is to -make all I can out of them and enjoy it while I can--that's what Pa -says." - -"Yes," said Miss Leigh acquiescingly, "but I'm not sure that it's -right." - -"You've been reading that man's articles," declared Miss McSheen. "I -know--I have, too--everybody has--all the girls. I am a -socialist--aren't they terribly striking! He's so good-looking. Pa says -he's a Jew and an anarchist, and ought to be in jail." - -"Are you speaking of Mr. Wolffert?" - -"Yes, of course. Now you need not make out you don't know him; because -they say----" - -"Yes, I know him very well," said Miss Leigh, so stiffly that her guest -paused and changed her tone. - -"Well, anyhow, my dear, you are just in time. We are going to have the -biggest thing we've ever had in this town. I've almost died laughing -over it already." - -"What is it?" - -"Wait. I'm going to tell you all about it. You know it was all my idea. -Harriet Minturn claims the whole credit for it now that I've made it -go--says she first suggested it, and I assure you, my dear, she never -opened her head about it till I had all the girls wild about it, and had -arranged for the costumes and had gotten the Count to promise----" - -"What is it?" interrupted her hostess again, laughing. - -"Wait, my dear, I'm going to tell you all about it. The Count's a -socialist, too. He says he is--but you mustn't tell that; he told me in -the strictest confidence. Well, the Count's to go as courtier of the -court of--what's the name of that old king or emperor, or whatever he -was, that conquered that country--you know what I mean----" - -"No, indeed, I do not--and I haven't the least idea what you are talking -about." - -"Oh! pshaw! I know perfectly well, and you do, too. The Count bet me I'd -forget it and I bet him a gold cigar-holder I wouldn't--what _is_ his -name? Won't the Count look handsome with lace ruffles and gold braid all -over his chest and coat-tails, and a cocked hat. He's been showing me -the way they dance in his country. I almost died laughing over it--only -it makes me so dizzy, they never reverse--just whirl and whirl and -whirl. You know he's a real count? Yes, my father's taken the trouble to -hunt that up. He said he wasn't 'going to let a d----d dago come around -me without anybody knowing who or what he is.' Ain't that like Pa?" - -"I--I--don't think I ever met your father," said Eleanor stiffly. - -"Oh! that's a fact. Well, 'tis--'tis just exactly like him. As soon as -the Count began to come around our house--a good deal--I mean, really, -quite a good deal--you understand?" said the girl, tossing her blonde -head, "what must Pa do but go to work and hunt him up. He thinks Jim -Canter is a winner, but I tell him Jimmy's bespoke." She looked at her -hostess archly. - -"What did he find out?" inquired Miss Leigh coldly, "and how did he do -it?" - -"Why, he just ran him down," explained the girl easily, "just as he does -anybody he wants to know about--put a man on him, you know." - -"Oh! I see." Miss Leigh froze up a little; but the other girl did not -notice it. - -"Only this one was somebody on the other side, of course, and he found -out that he's all right. He's a real count. He's the third son of Count -Pushkin, who was--let me see--a counsellor of his emperor, the Emperor -of Sweden." - -"I didn't know they had an emperor in Sweden. He's a new one." - -"Haven't they? Oh! well, maybe it was the King of Sweden, or the Emperor -of Russia--I don't know--they are all alike to me. I never could keep -them apart, even at Miss de Pense's. I only know he's a real count, and -I won a hundred dollars from Pa on a bet that he was. And he hated to -pay it! He bet that he was a cook or a barber. And I bet he wasn't. And, -oh! you know it's an awfully good joke on him--for he was a waiter in -New York for a while." - -"A what?" - -"A waiter--oh, just for a little while after he came over--before his -remittances arrived. But I made Pa pay up, because he said cook or -barber. I put it in this hat, see, ain't it a wonder?" She turned -herself around before a mirror and admired her hat which was, indeed as -Miss Leigh was forced to admit, "a wonder." - -"You know it's just like the hat Gabrielle Lightfoot wears in the 'Star -of the Harem' when she comes in in the balloon. I got her to let me copy -it--exactly." - -"You did? How did you manage that?" - -"Why, you see, Jimmy Canter knows her, and he asked Harriet and me to -supper to meet her, and I declare she nearly made me die laughing--you -know she's a real sweet girl--Jimmy says she----" - -"Who chaperoned you?" asked Miss Leigh, as she began to put on her -gloves. - -"Chaperon? My dear, that's where the fun came in--we didn't have any -chaperon. I pretended that Harriet and the Count were married and called -her Countess, and she was so flattered at being given the title that she -was pleased to death--though you know, she's really dead in love with -Jimmy Canter, and he hardly looks at her. If he's in love with any -one--except Mr. James Canter, Jr.--it's with some one else I know." She -nodded her head knowingly. - -"I'm afraid I have to go now," said Miss Leigh, "my father expects me to -come for him," she glanced at a jewelled watch. She had stiffened up -slightly. - -"Well, of course, you'll come?" - -"To what?" - -"To our ball--that's what it is, you know, though it's for a charity, -and we make others pay for it. Why shouldn't they? I haven't decided yet -what charity. Harriet wants it to be for a home for cats. You'd know -she'd want that now, wouldn't you? She'll be in there herself some day. -But I'm not going to let it go for anything she wants. She's claiming -now that she got it up, and I'm just going to show her who did. I'm -thinking of giving it to that young preacher you met in the country two -years ago and got so interested in 't you got Dr. Capon to bring him -here as his assistant." - -"You couldn't give it to a better cause," said Miss Leigh. "I wonder how -he is coming on?" - -"I guess you know all right. But Pa says," pursued Miss McSheen without -heeding further the interruption, "we are ruining the poor, and the -reason they won't work is that we are always giving them money. You know -they're striking on our lines--some of them? I haven't decided yet what -to give it to. Oh! you ought to see the Doctor. He's the gayest of the -gay. He came to see me the other day. It almost made me die laughing. -You know he's dead in love with your Aunt. I used to think it was you; -but Pa says I'm always thinking everybody is in love with you--even the -Count--but he says--However----" - -"I'll tell you what!" said Miss Leigh suddenly, "I'll come to the ball -if you'll give the proceeds to Mr. Marvel for his poor people." - -"Done! See there! what did I tell you! I thought you weren't so pious -for nothing all on a sudden----" - -"Milly, you're a goose," said Miss Leigh, picking up her sunshade. - -"I'm a wise one, though--what was it our teacher used to tell us about -the geese giving the alarm somewhere? But I don't care. I'm the -treasurer and pay the bills. Pa says the man that holds the bag gets the -swag. Bring your father. We'll get something grand out of him. He always -gives to everything. I'll call him up and tell him to be sure and come. -You know they've landed the deal. Pa says every one of them has made a -pile. Your father might have made it, too, if he'd come in, but I think -he was fighting them or something, I don't quite understand it--anyhow -it's all done now, and I'm going to hold Pa up for the pearl necklace he -promised to give me. There's a perfect beauty at Setter & Stoneberg's, -only seventeen thousand, and I believe they'll take ten if it's planked -down in cold cash. Pa says the way to get a man is to put down the cold -cash before him and let him fasten his eye on it. If he's a Jew he says -he'll never let it go. I tell him by the same token he must be a Jew -himself; because he holds on to all the money he ever lays his eye on." - -"Can I take you down-town anywhere?" inquired Miss Leigh, in a rather -neutral voice. - -"No, my dear, just let me fix my hat. I have to go the other way. In -fact, I told the Count that I was going up to the park for a little -spin, and he asked if he couldn't come along. I didn't want him, of -course--men are so in the way in the morning, don't you think so? Is -that quite right?" She gave her head a toss to test the steadiness of -her hat. - -"Quite," said Miss Leigh. - -"Well, good-by. I'll count on you then. Oh! I tell you--among the -entertainments, the Count is going to perform some wonderful -sleight-of-hand tricks with cards. My dear, he's a magician! -He can do anything with cards. Heavens! it's after one. The -Count--good-by--good-by." - -And as Miss Leigh entered her victoria the young lady rushed off, up -the street, straining her eyes in the direction of the park. - -That night "the ball," as Miss McSheen called it, came off and was a -huge success, as was duly chronicled in all the morning papers next day -with an elaboration of description of millinery in exact proportion to -the degree of prominence of the wearer in the particular circle in which -the editor or his reporter moved or aspired to move. Mrs. Argand stood -first in "Wine-colored velvet, priceless lace," of the sort that -reporters of the female sex deem dearest, and "diamonds and rubies" that -would have staggered Sinbad, the sailor. Miss McSheen ran her a close -second, in "rose-colored satin, and sapphires," spoken of as "priceless -heirlooms." Miss Leigh shone lower down in "chiffon, lace, and pearls of -great price." So they went columns-full, all priceless, all beautiful, -all superlative, till superlatives were exhausted, and the imagination -of the reporters ran riot in an excess of tawdry color and English. - -Among the men especially lauded were, first, a certain Mr. James Canter, -son and partner of "the famous Mr. Canter, the capitalist and -financier," who gave promise of rivalling his father in his "notorious -ability," and, secondly, a Count Pushkin, the "distinguished scion of a -noble house of international reputation who was honoring the city with -his distinguished presence, and was generally credited with having led -captive the heart of one of the city's fairest and wealthiest -daughters." So ran the record. And having nothing to do, I read that -morning the account and dwelt on the only name I recognized, the young -lady of the white chiffon and pearls, and wondered who the men were -whose names stood next to hers. - - - - -XI - -ELEANOR LEIGH - - -Miss Leigh also read the papers that morning and with much amusement -till in one of them--the most sensational of all the morning -journals--she came on an article which first made her heart stop beating -and then set it to racing with sheer anger. To think that such a slander -could be uttered! She would have liked to make mince-meat of that -editor. He was always attacking her father. - -A little later she began to think of the rest of the article! What was -the truth? Did they have the right to stop the train and hold it back? -This sort of thing was what a writer whom she knew denied in a series of -papers which a friend of hers, a young clergyman who worked among the -poor, had sent her and which the press generally was denouncing. - -She had for some time been reading these papers that had been appearing -in the press periodically. They were written by a person who was -generally spoken of as "a Jew," but who wrote with a pen which had the -point of a rapier, and whose sentences ate into the steely plate of -artificial convention like an acid. One of the things he had said had -stuck in her memory. "As the remains of animalculæ of past ages furnish, -when compressed in almost infinite numbers, the lime-food on which the -bone and muscle of the present race of cattle in limestone regions are -built up, so the present big-boned race of the wealthy class live on the -multitudinous class of the poor." - -The summer before she had met the writer of these articles and he had -made an impression on her which had not been effaced. She had not -analyzed her feelings to ascertain how far this impression was due to -his classical face, his deep, luminous eyes, and his impassioned manner, -yet certain it is that all of these had struck her. - -Perhaps, I should give just here a little more of Miss Eleanor Leigh's -history as I came to know of it later on. How I came to know of it may -or may not be divulged later. But, at least, I learned it. She was the -daughter of a gentleman who, until she came and began to tyrannize over -him, gave up all of his time and talents to building up enterprises of -magnitude and amassing a fortune. He had showed abilities and ambition -at college "back East," where he came from, and when he first struck for -the West and started out in life, it was in a region and amid -surroundings which were just becoming of more than local importance as -they a little later grew under the guidance of men of action like -himself, to be of more than sectional importance. The new West as it was -then had called to him imperiously and he had responded. Flinging -himself into the current which was just beginning to take on force, he -soon became one of the pilots of the development which, changing a vast -region where roamed Indians and buffalo into a land of cities and -railways, shortly made its mark on the Nation and, indeed, on the -world, and he was before long swept quite away by it, leaving behind all -the intellectual ambitions and dreams he had ever cherished and giving -himself up soul and body to the pleasure he got out of his success as an -organizer and administrator of large enterprises. Wealth at first was -important to him, then it became, if not unimportant, at least of -secondary importance to the power he possessed. Then it became of -importance again--indeed of supreme importance; for the power he wielded -was now dependent on wealth and great wealth. His associates were all -men of large interests, and only one with similar interests could lead -them. New conditions had come about of late and new methods which he -could neither employ nor contend against successfully. - -As he looked back on it later it appeared a feverish dream through which -he had passed. Its rewards were undeniable: luxury, reputation and power -beyond anything he had ever conceived of. Yet what had he not sacrificed -for them! Everything that he had once held up before his mind as a noble -ambition: study, reading, association with the great and noble of all -time; art and love of art; appreciation of all except wealth that men -have striven for through the ages; friendship--domestic joy--everything -except riches and the power they bring. For as he thought over his past -in his growing loneliness he found himself compelled to admit that he -had sacrificed all the rest. He had married a woman he loved and -admired. He had given her wealth and luxury instead of himself, and she -had pined and died before he awakened to the tragic fact. He had -grieved for her, but he could not conceal from himself the brutal fact -that she had ceased years before to be to him as necessary as his -business. She had left him one child. Two others had died in infancy, -and he had mourned for them and sympathized with her; but he never knew -for years, and until too late, how stricken she had been over their -loss. The child she had left him had in some way taken hold on him and -had held it even against himself. She had so much of himself in her that -he himself could see the resemblance; his natural kindness, his good -impulses, his wilfulness, his resolution and ambition to lead and to -succeed in all he undertook. - -Even from the earliest days when she was left to him, Mr. Leigh was made -aware by Eleanor that he had something out of the ordinary to deal with. -The arrangement by which, on the death of her mother, she was taken by -her half-aunt, Mrs. Argand, to be cared for, "because the poor child -needed a mother to look after her," fell through promptly when the -little thing who had rebelled at the plan appeared, dusty and -dishevelled but triumphant, in her father's home that first evening, as -he was preparing, after leaving his office, to go and see her. It was -doubtless an auspicious moment for the little rebel; for her father was -at the instant steeped in grief and loneliness and self-reproach. He had -worked like fury all day to try to forget his loss; but his return home -to his empty house had torn open his wounds afresh, and the echoing of -his solitary foot-fall on the stair and in the vacant rooms had almost -driven him to despair. Every spot--every turn was a red-hot brand on the -fresh wound. No man had loved his wife more; but he awoke now when too -late to the torturing fact that he had left her much alone. He had -worked for her, leaving the enjoyment to the future; and she had died -before the future came, in that desolate present which was to be linked -forever to the irretrievable past. It was at this moment that he heard a -familiar step outside his door. His heart almost stopped to listen. It -could not be Eleanor--she was safe at her Aunt's, blocks away, awaiting -the fulfilment of his promise to come to see her--and it was now dark. -Could it be a delusion? His over-wrought brain might have fancied it. -Next second the door burst open, and in rushed Eleanor with a cry--"Oh! -Papa!" - -"Why, Nelly! How did you come!" - -"Slipped out and ran away! You did not come and I could not stay." - -When the emotion of the first greeting was over, Mr. Leigh, under the -strong sense of what he deemed his duty to the child, and also to the -dear dead--which had led him at first to make the sacrifice of yielding -to his sister-in-law's urgency, began to explain to the little girl the -impropriety of her action, and the importance of her returning to her -Aunt, when she had been so kind. But he found it a difficult task. Mr. -Leigh believed in discipline. He had been brought up in a rigid school, -and he knew it made for character; but it was uphill work with the -little girl's arms clasped about his neck and her hot, tear-streaked -little face pressed close to his as she pleaded and met his arguments -with a promptness and an aptness which astonished him. Moreover, she had -a strong advocate in his own heart, and from the first moment when she -had burst in on his heart-breaking loneliness he had felt that he could -not let her go again if she were unhappy. - -"She would not go back," she asserted defiantly. "She hated her Aunt, -anyhow--she was a hateful old woman who scolded her servants; and sent -her up-stairs to her supper." - -When to this her father promptly replied that she must go back, and he -would take her, she as promptly changed her note. - -"Very well, she would go back; he need not come with her; but she would -die." - -"Oh, no, you will not die. You will soon grow very fond of her." - -"Then I shall grow very worldly, like her," said Miss Precocity. - -"What makes you think that?" - -"Because she is a worldly old woman--and you said so yourself." - -"I said so! When?" demanded her father, with a guilty feeling of vague -recollection. - -"To Mamma once--when Mamma said something against her husband, you said -that, and Mamma said you ought not to say that about her sister--and you -said she was only her half-sister, anyhow, and not a bit like her--and -now you want to send me back to her as if I were only your half-child." - -The father smiled sadly enough as he drew the anxious little face close -to his own. - -"Oh! no--You are all mine, and my all. I only want to do what is right." - -"Mamma wants me to stay with you--so it must be right." - -The present tense used by the child struck the father to the heart. - -"What makes you think that?" he asked with a sigh. The little girl was -quick to catch at the new hope. - -"She told me so the day before she died, when I was in the room with -her; she said you would be lonely, and I must be a comfort to you." - -Mr. Leigh gave a gasp that was almost a groan, and the child flung her -arms about his neck. - -"And I sha'n't leave you, my all-Papa, unless you drive me; I promised -Mamma I would stay and take care of you, and I will. And you won't make -me--will you? For I am your all-daughter--You won't, will you?" - -"No, d----d if I do!" said the father, catching her to his heart, and -trying to smother the oath as it burst from his lips. - -As soon as she had quieted down, he went to her Aunt's to make the -necessary explanation. He found it not the easiest task, for the good -lady had her own ideas and had formed her plans, and the change was a -blow to her _amour propre_. It was, in fact, the beginning of the breach -between Mr. Leigh and his sister-in-law which led eventually to the -antagonism between them. - -"You are going to spoil that child to death!" exclaimed the affronted -lady. This Mr. Leigh denied, though in his heart he thought it possible. -It was not a pleasant interview, for Mrs. Argand was deeply offended. -But Mr. Leigh felt that it was well worth the cost when, on his return -home, he was greeted by a cry of joy from the top of the stair where the -little girl sat in her dressing gown awaiting him. And when with a cry -of joy she came rushing down, Cinderella-like, dropping her slipper in -her excitement, and flung herself into his arms, he knew that life had -begun for him anew. - -Mr. Leigh was quite aware of the truth of Mrs. Argand's prophecy; but he -enjoyed the spoiling of his daughter, which she had foretold, and he -enjoyed equally the small tyrannies which the child exercised over him, -and also the development of her mind as the budding years passed. - -"Papa," she said one day, when she had asked him to take her somewhere, -and he had pleaded, "business," "why do you go to the office so much?" - -"I have to work to make money for my daughter," said her father, stating -the first reason that suggested itself. - -"Are you not rich enough now?" - -"Well, I don't know that I am, with a young lady growing up on my -hands," said her father smiling. - -"Am I very expensive?" she asked with a sudden little expression of -gravity coming over her face. - -"No, that you are not, my dear--and if you were, there is no pleasure on -earth to me like giving it to you. That is one of my chief reasons for -working so steadily, though there are others." - -"I have plenty of money," said Eleanor. - -"Then you are happier than most people, who don't know when they have -plenty." - -"Yes--you see, all I have to do when I want anything is to go into a -store and ask for it, and tell them I am your daughter, and they let me -have it at once." - -"Oh ho!" said her father, laughing, "so that is the way you buy things, -is it? No wonder you have plenty. Well, you'd better come to me and ask -for what you want." - -"I think the other is the easier way, and as you say you like to give it -to me, I don't see that it makes any difference." - -Mr. Leigh decided that he had better explain the difference. - -"I hate rich people," said Eleanor suddenly. "They are so vulgar." - -"For example?" enquired her father looking with some amusement at the -girl whose face had suddenly taken on an expression of severe -priggishness. - -"Oh! Aunt Sophia and Milly McSheen. They are always talking about their -money." - -Mr. Leigh's eyes were twinkling. - -"You must not talk that way about your Aunt Sophia--she is very fond of -you." - -"She is always nagging at me--correcting me." - -"She wants you to grow up to be a fine woman." - -"Like her?" said Miss Eleanor pertly. - -Mr. Leigh felt that it was wise to check this line of criticism, and he -now spoke seriously. - -"You must not be so critical of your Aunt. She is really very fond of -you--and she was your mother's half-sister. You must respect her and -love her." - -"I love her, but I don't like her. She and Milly McSheen are just -alike--always boasting of what they have, and do, and running down what -others have, and do." - -"Oh, well, it takes a great many people to make a world," said Mr. Leigh -indulgently. Eleanor felt a want of sympathy and made another bid for -it. - -"Milly McSheen says that her father is going to be the richest man in -this town." - -"Ah! who is talking about money now?" said Mr. Leigh, laughing. - -"I am not--I am merely saying what she said." - -"You must not tell the silly things your friends say." - -"No--only to you--I thought you said I must tell you everything. But, of -course, if you don't wish me to--I won't." - -Mr. Leigh laughed and took her on his knee. He was not quite sure -whether she was serious or was only laughing at him, but, as he began to -explain, she burst into a peal of merriment over her victory. - -In appearance she was like her mother, only he thought her fairer--as -fair as he had thought her mother in the days of his first devotion; and -her deeper eyes and firmer features were an added beauty; the -well-rounded chin was his own. Her eyes, deep with unfathomable depths, -and mouth, firm even with its delicate beauty, had come from some -ancestor or ancestress who, in some generation past, had faced life in -its most exacting form with undaunted resolution and, haply, had faced -death with equal calm for some belief that now would scarcely have given -an hour's questioning. So, when she grew each year, developing new -powers and charm and constancy, he began to find a new interest in life, -and to make her more his companion and confidante than he had ever made -her mother. He left his business oftener to see her than he had left it -to see her mother; he took her oftener with him on his trips, and took -more trips, that he might have her company. She sat at the head of his -table, and filled her place with an ability that was at once his -astonishment and his pride. - -At one time, as she changed from a mere child to a young girl, he had -thought of marrying again, rather with a view to giving her a guide and -counsellor than for any other purpose. Her storminess, however, at the -mere suggestion, and much more, her real grief, had led him to defer the -plan from time to time, until now she was a young lady, and he could see -for himself that she needed neither chaperon nor counsellor. He -sometimes smiled to think what the consequences would have been had he -taken to wife the soft, kindly, rather commonplace lady whom he had once -thought of as his daughter's guardian. A domestic fowl in the clutches -of a young eagle would have had an easier time. - -One phase alone in her development had puzzled and baffled him. She had -gone off one spring to a country neighborhood in another State, where -she had some old relatives on her mother's side. Mr. Leigh had been -called to Europe on business, and she had remained there until well into -the summer. When she returned she was not the same. Some change had -taken place in her. She had gone away a rollicking, gay, -pleasure-loving, and rather selfish young girl--he was obliged to admit -that she was both wilful and self-indulgent. Even his affection for her -could not blind his eyes to this, and at times it had given him much -concern, for at times there was a clash in which, if he came off victor, -he felt it was at a perilous price--that, possibly, of a strain on her -obedience. She returned a full-grown woman, thoughtful and -self-sacrificing and with an aim--he was glad it was not a mission--and -as her aim was to be useful, and she began with him, he accepted it with -contentment. She talked freely of her visit; spoke warmly, and indeed, -enthusiastically, of those she had met there. Among these were a young -country preacher and a friend of his, a young Jew. But, though she spoke -of both with respect, the praise she accorded them was so equal that he -dismissed from his mind the possibility that she could have been -seriously taken with either of them. Possibly, the Jew was the one she -was most enthusiastic over, but she spoke of him too openly to cause her -father disquietude. Besides, he was a Jew. - -The preacher she plainly respected most highly, yet her account of his -appearance was too humorous to admit a serious feeling for him, even -though she had gotten him called to be one of Dr. Capon's assistants. - -What had happened was that the girl, who had only "lain in the lilies -and fed on the roses of life," had suddenly been dropped in an -out-of-the-way corner in a country neighborhood in an old State, where -there were neither lilies nor roses of the metaphorical kind, though a -sufficiency of the real and natural kind, with which nature in -compensatory mood atones to those who have of the metaphorical sort but -thistles and brambles and flinty soil. - -When she first landed there, after the very first excitement of being -thrown into a wholly new situation, among strangers whom, though her -relatives, she had always regarded much as she had regarded geographical -places in distant lands, was over, she found herself, as it were, at a -loss for occupation. Everything was so quiet and calm. She felt lost and -somewhat bored. But after a little time she found occupation in small -things, as on looking closely she discovered beauties in Nature which -her first glance had failed to catch. The people appeared so novel, so -simple, so wholly different from all whom she had known; the excitements -and amusements and interests of her life in the city, or at summer -watering-places, or in travelling, were not only unknown to them--as -unknown as if they were in another planet, but were matters of absolute -indifference. Their interest was in their neighbors, in the small -happenings about them; and occurrences an hundred miles away were as -distant to them as though they had taken place in another era. Among the -few notabilities in this rural community was a young clergyman whom she -always heard spoken of with respect--as much respect, indeed, as if he -had been a bishop. What "Mr. Marvel thought" and what he said was -referred to, or was quoted as something to be considered--so much so -that she had insensibly formed a picture in her own mind of a quite -remarkable looking and impressive person. When, at last, she met John -Marvel, what was her amusement to discover, in place of her young -Antinous, a stout, strapping young fellow, with rather bristly hair, -very near-sighted and awkward, and exceedingly shy, a person as far from -a man of the world as a stout, country-bred cart-horse would be from a -sleek trick-pony. His timidity in her presence caused her endless -amusement, and for lack of some better diversion and partly to -scandalize her staid kinswomen, she set herself to tease him in every -way that her fertile brain could devise. - -Visiting the young clergyman at the time was a friend who came much -nearer being in appearance what Eleanor had imagined John Marvel to be: -a dark, slender young man with a classical face, but that its lines were -stronger and more deeply graven, and unforgettable eyes. He had just -come to visit Mr. Marvel and to get a needed rest, John Marvel said. He -had been a worker among the poor, and his views were so different from -any that Eleanor Leigh had ever heard as to appear almost shocking. He -was an educated man, yet he had lived and worked as an artisan. He was a -gentleman, yet he denounced vehemently the conditions which produced the -upper class. But an even greater surprise awaited her when he announced -that he was a Jew. - -When John Marvel brought his friend to see Miss Eleanor Leigh, the first -impression that she received was one of pleasure. He was so striking and -unusual looking--with deep, burning eyes under dark brows. Then she was -not sure that she liked him, she even thought she was sensible of a sort -of repulsion. She had a feeling as if he were weighing her in his mind -and, not approving of her, treated her at times with indifference, at -times with a certain disdain. She was conscious of an antagonism as -Wolffert showed scorn of conditions and things which she had been -brought up to believe almost as much a necessary part of life as air and -light. She promptly began to argue with him, but when she found that he -usually had the best of the argument, she became more careful how she -opened herself to his attack. He aroused in her the feeling of -opposition. His scorn of the money-making spirit of the day led her to -defend what she secretly held in contempt. And once when he had been -inveighing against commercialism that set up Gods of Brass to worship, -and declared that it was the old story of Nebuchadnezzar over again--and -was the fore-runner to brotherhood with the beasts of the field, she -wheeled on him, declaring that it was "only people who had no power to -make money who held such views." - -"Do you think that I could not make money if I wished to do so?" said -Wolffert quietly, with an amused light in his eyes as they rested on her -with an expression which was certainly not hostile; for her eagerness -had brought warm blood to her cheeks and her eyes were sparkling with -the glow of contention. - -"Yes, if you were able you would be as rich as a Jew." - -A yet more amused look came into Wolffert's eyes. - -"Are all Jews rich?" he asked. - -"Yes--all who are capable--you know they are." - -"No, for I am a Jew and I am not rich," said Wolffert. - -"What! You!--You a--Oh, I beg your pardon! I--" she blushed deeply. - -"Pray don't apologize--don't imagine that I am offended. Would you be -offended if I charged you with coming from a race of poets and -philosophers and scientists--of a race that had given the world its -literature and its religion?" - -She burst out laughing. - -"No; but I was such a fool--pray forgive me." She held out her hand and -Wolffert took it and pressed it firmly--and this was the beginning of -their friendship. - -Wolffert walked home slowly that evening, that is, across the fields to -the little farmhouse where John Marvel lived. He had food for thought. - -When Eleanor Leigh saw John Marvel a few days later she told him of her -conversation and the speech she had made to his friend. "You know," said -John, "that he is rich or could be, if he chose to go home. His father -is very rich." - -"He is a new Jew to me," said Eleanor Leigh; "he is quite different from -the typical Jew." - -"I wonder if there is a typical Jew," questioned John to himself, and -this set Eleanor wondering too. - -But Eleanor Leigh found other causes for wonder in Wolffert besides the -salient fact of his race which she had mentioned to her cousins, and -they forced upon her the consciousness that she would have to readjust -her ideas of many things as she had been compelled to do in regard to -the appearance and aims of this singular people. Her idea of the -Israelites had always been curiously connoted with hooked noses, foreign -speech of a far from refined type, and a persistent pursuit of shekels -by ways generally devious and largely devoted to shops containing -articles more or less discarded by other people. Here she found a -cultivated gentleman with features, if not wholly classical, at least -more regular and refined than those of most young men of her -acquaintance; speech so cultivated as to be quite distinguished, and an -air and manner so easy and gracious as to suggest to her complete -knowledge of the great world. No matter what subject was discussed -between them, he knew about it more than any one else, and always threw -light on it which gave it a new interest for her. He had a knowledge of -the Literature and Art, not only of the ancients, but of most modern -nations, and he talked to her of things of which she had never so much -as heard. He had not only travelled extensively in Europe, but had -travelled in a way to give him an intimate knowledge not merely of the -countries, but of the people and customs of the countries which no one -she had ever met possessed. He had crossed in the steerage of -ocean-liners more than once and had stoked across both to England and -the Mediterranean. - -"But what made you do it?" she asked. "Did not you find it terrible?" - -"Yes--pretty bad." Wolffert was at the moment showing her how tea was -made in certain provinces along the Caspian Sea which he had visited not -long before. "About as bad as it could be." - -"Then what made you do it?" - -"Well, I saved money by it, too." - -What the other reason was she did not press him to give. She only -thought, "That is the Jew of it." But after she had seen more of him she -discovered that the other reason was that he might learn by personal -experience what the condition was in the emigrant ships and the holes -where the stokers lived deep down amid the coal-bunkers and the roaring -furnaces, and further, that he might know the people themselves. -Incidentally, he had learned there and elsewhere Italian and Russian, -with the strange Hebraic faculty of absorbing whatever he came in touch -with, but he thought no more of knowing that than of knowing Yiddish. - -It was this study of conditions that finally gave her the key to his -design in life, for it developed as their acquaintance grew that this -clear-headed, cultivated, thoughtful man held strange views as to the -ordinary things of life, the things which she had always accepted as -fundamental and unchangeable as the solid earth or the vaguely -comprehended but wholly accepted revolution of the spheres. In fact, he -held that the conditions of modern life, the relations of people in -mass, which she had somehow always considered as almost perfect and, -indeed, divinely established, were absolutely outworn and fundamentally -unrighteous and unjust. She at first did not take him seriously. She -could not. To find a pleasant and, indeed, rather eloquent-spoken young -man denounce as wicked and vile usurpation the establishment of -competitive enterprises, and the accumulation of capital by captains of -industry, appeared to her almost impious. Yet, there he sat with burning -eyes and thrilling voice denouncing the very things she had always -considered most commendable. "Why, that is Socialism, isn't it?" she -asked, feeling that if she could convict him of this somewhat vaguely -comprehended term she would prove her old foundations unshaken. - -Wolffert smiled. He was very good-looking when he smiled. "No, not -exactly--if it is, it is only an elementary and individual kind of -Socialism; but it is Socialism so far as it is based on a profound -desire to reconstruct society and to place it on a natural and equitable -social foundation where every one shall have a chance to work and to -reap the fruit of such work." - -"What is Socialism?" she demanded suddenly. - -"It is not what you mean by the term," he laughed. "It is not taking the -property of those who have worked for it and giving to those who neither -have worked nor will work--that is what you have in mind." - -"Precisely," she nodded. - -"It is--at least, the Socialism I mean--the application of the same -method of general order by the people at large to labor and the product -of labor: property--that is now employed in Government. The -reconstruction of the present methods so that all should participate -both in the labor, and in the product." He went on to picture glowingly -the consequences of this Utopian scheme when all men should work and all -should reap. But though he made it appear easy enough to him, Eleanor -Leigh's practical little head saw the difficulties and the flaws much -more readily than the perfect result which he appeared to find so -certain. - -"You cannot reconstruct human nature," she protested, "and when you -shall have gotten your system thoroughly under way, those who have -gotten in positions of power will use their advantage for their own -benefit, and then you will still have to begin all over again." But -Wolffert was certain of the result and pointed out the work of his -friend John Marvel as a proof of his theory. - -While, at first, the broad-shouldered young clergyman fled from her -presence with a precipitation which was laughable, it was not long -before he appeared to have steeled himself sufficiently against her -shafts of good-natured persiflage to be able to tolerate her presence, -and before a great while had passed, her friends began to tease her on -the fact that wherever she went Mr. Marvel was pretty sure to appear. -One of her old cousins, half-rallyingly and half-warningly, cautioned -her against going too far with the young man, saying, "Mr. Marvel, my -dear, is too good a man for you to amuse yourself with, and then fling -away. What is simply the diversion of an hour for you, may become a -matter of real gravity with him. He is already deeply interested in you -and unless you are interested in him----" - -"Why, I am interested in him," declared the girl, laughing. "Why, he -tells me of all the old sick women and cats in the parish and I have an -engagement to go around with him and see some old women to-morrow. You -ought to see some that we went to visit the other day!" - -"I know, my dear, but you must not make fun of his work. He is happy in -it and is accomplishing a great deal of good, and if you should get him -dissatisfied----" - -"Oh, no, indeed; I gave him some money last week for a poor family to -get some clothes so that they could come to church. They were named -Banyan. They live near the mines. The whole family were to be christened -next Sunday, and what do you suppose they did? As soon as they got the -clothes they went last Sunday to a big baptizing and were all immersed! -I was teasing him about that when you heard me laughing at him." - -"The wretches!" exclaimed her cousin. "To think of their deceiving him -so!" - -"I know," said the girl. "But I think he minded the deception much more -than the other. Though I charged him with being disappointed at not -getting them into his fold, really, I don't think he minded it a bit. At -least, he said he would much rather they had gone where they would be -happy." - -"Now, Mr. Marvel's friend, Mr. Wolffert, is a different matter. He -appears quite able to take care of himself." - -"Quite," said Miss Leigh dryly. - -"But, my dear," said her cousin, lowering her voice, "they say he is a -Jew." - -"He is," said Eleanor. - -"You know it?" - -"Yes, he told me so himself." - -"Told you himself! Why, I thought--! How did he come to tell you?" - -"Why, I don't know. We were talking and I said something foolish about -the Jews--about some one being 'as rich and stingy as a Jew,' and he -smiled and said, 'Are all Jews rich--and stingy?' And I said, 'If they -have a chance,' and he said, 'Not always. I am a Jew and I am not rich.' -Well, I thought he was fooling, just teasing me--so I went on, and do -you know he is not only a Jew, but Mr. Marvel says he is rich, only he -does not claim his money because he is a Socialist. Mr. Marvel says he -could go home to-morrow and his father would take him and lavish money -on him; but he works--works all the time among the poor." - -"Well, I must say I always liked him," said her cousin. - -"But he isn't such good fun to tease as Mr. Marvel--he is too intense. -Mr. Marvel does get so red and unhappy-looking when he is teased." - -"Well, you have no right to tease him. He is a clergyman and should be -treated with respect. You wouldn't dare to tease your rector in -town--the great Dr.--What is his name?" - -"Oh! wouldn't I? Dr. Bartholomew Capon. Why, he is one of the greatest -beaux in town. He's always running around to see some girl--ogling them -with his big blue eyes." - -"Eleanor!" exclaimed her cousin reprovingly. - -"Why, he'd marry any one of the Canter girls who would have him, or Aunt -Sophia, or----" - -"Eleanor, don't be profane." - -The old lady looked so shocked that the girl ran over and kissed her, -with a laugh. - -"Why, I've told him so." - -"Told him? You haven't!" - -"Yes, I have. I told him so when he tried to marry me. Then he tried -Aunt Sophia." - -"What! Eleanor, you are incorrigible. You really are. But do tell me -about it. Did he really court you? Why, he's old enough to be your----" - -"Grandfather," interrupted the girl. "That's what I told him, -substantially." - -"Served him right, too. But he must be a fine preacher from what my old -friend, Pansy Tipps, once wrote me. Did you ever meet Pansy Tipps? She -and her sister live in your city. They went there years ago to press a -claim they had to a large fortune left them by their father, Colonel -Tipps, who used to be a very rich man, but left his affairs somewhat -complicated, I gather from what Pansy writes me, or did write, for she -does not write very often now. I wish you'd go and see them when you go -back." - -"I will," said Eleanor. "Where do they live?" - -"At a Mrs. Kale's--she keeps a boarding-house--I don't know the exact -location, and mislaid Pansy's letter a year or more ago, but you will -have no difficulty in finding it. It must be in the fashionable quarter -and I should think any one could tell you where she lives." - -"I will find her," said Eleanor, laughing. - - - - -XII - -JOHN MARVEL - - -When, a little later, a scourge of diphtheria broke out in a little -mining camp not far from the home of Miss Leigh's relatives and she -learned that John Marvel spent all his time nursing the sick and -relieving their necessities as far as possible, she awakened to a -realization of the truth of what her cousin had said, that under his -awkward exterior lay a mine of true gold. - -Day by day reports came of the spread of the deadly pestilence, making -inroads in every family, baffling the skill and outstripping the utmost -efforts of the local physician; day by day, the rumor came that wherever -illness appeared there was John Marvel. - -One afternoon Miss Leigh, who had ridden over in the direction of the -mining village to try and get some information about the young -clergyman, who, a rumor said, had been stricken himself the day before, -came on him suddenly in a by-path among the hills. At sight of her he -stopped and held up his hand in warning, and at the warning she reined -in her horse. - -"Don't come nearer," he called to her. - -"What is the matter?" she asked. "How are you?" For even at that -distance--perhaps, some fifty paces--she could see that he looked -wretchedly worn and wan. - -"Oh, I'm doing very well," he replied. "How are you? You must not come -this way! Turn back!" - -She began to rein her horse around and then, on a sudden, as his arm -fell to his side, and, stepping a little out of the path, he leant -against a tree, the whole situation struck her. Wheeling her horse back, -she rode straight up to him though he stiffened up and waved her back. - -"You are ill," she said. - -"Oh, no. I am not ill, I am only a bit tired; that is all. You must not -come this way--go back!" - -"But why?" she persisted, sitting now close above him. - -"Because--because--there is sickness here. A family there is down." He -nodded back toward the curve around which he had just come. "The Banyan -family are all ill, and I am just going for help." - -"I will go--I, at least, can do that. What help? What do you want?" - -She had tightened the rein on her horse and turned his head back. - -"Everything. The mother and three children are all down; the father died -a few days ago. Send the doctor and anything that you can -find--food--clothing--medicine--some one to nurse them--if you can find -her. It is the only chance." - -"I will." She hesitated a moment and looked down at him, as if about to -speak, but he waved her off. "Go, you must not stay longer." - -He had moved around so that the wind, instead of blowing from him toward -her, blew from the other side of her. - -A moment later Eleanor Leigh was galloping for life down the steep -bridle-path. It was a breakneck gait, and the path was rough enough to -be perilous, but she did not heed it. It was the first time in all her -life that she had been conscious that she could be of real use. She felt -that she was galloping in a new world. From house to house she rode, but -though all were sympathetic, there was no one to go. Those who might -have gone, were elsewhere--or were dead. The doctor was away from home -attending at other bedsides and, by the account given, had been working -night and day until he could scarcely stand. Riding to the nearest -telegraph station, the girl sent a despatch to a doctor whom she knew in -the city where she lived, begging him to come or to send some one on the -first train and saying that he would be met and that she would meet all -his expenses. Then she sat down and wrote a note to her cousin. And two -hours later, just as the dusk was falling, she rode up to the door of a -country cabin back among the hills. As she softly pushed open the door, -with her arm full of bundles, a form rose from the side of a bed and -stood before her in the dusk of the room. - -"My God! you must not come in here. Why have you come here?" - -"To help you," said the girl. - -"But you must not come in. Go out. You must," said John Marvel. - -[Illustration: "But you must not come in."] - -"No, I have come to stay. I could not live if I did not stay now." She -pushed her way in. "Here are some things I have brought. I have -telegraphed for a doctor." - -It was long before she could satisfy John Marvel, but she staid, and all -that night she worked with him over the sick and the dying. All that -night they two strove to hold Death at bay, across those wretched beds. -Once, indeed, he had struck past their guard and snatched a life; but -they had driven him back and saved the others. Ere morning came one of -the children had passed away; but the mother and the other children -survived; and Eleanor Leigh knew that John Marvel, now on his knees, now -leaning over the bed administering stimulants, had saved them. - -As Eleanor Leigh stepped out into the morning light, she looked on a new -earth, as fair as if it had just been created, and it was a new Eleanor -Leigh who gazed upon it. The tinsel of frivolity had shrivelled and -perished in the fire of that night. Sham had laid bare its shallow face -and fled away. Life had taken on reality. She had seen a man, and -thenceforth only a man could command her. - -The physician came duly, sent up by the one she had telegraphed to; rode -over to the Banyan house, and later to the village, where he pronounced -the disease diphtheria and the cause probably defective drainage and -consequent impregnation of the water supply; wrote a prescription; -commended the country doctor, returned home, and duly charged nearly -half as much as the country doctor got in a year, which Miss Leigh duly -paid with thoughts of John Marvel. This was what made the change in the -girl which her father had noted. - -No novelist can give all of a hero's or a heroine's life. He must take -some especial phase and develop his characters along that line, -otherwise he would soon overload his boat and swamp his reader's -patience. He is happy who having selected his path of action does not -wear out the reader in asking him to follow even this one line. Thus, it -is possible to give only a part of Miss Eleanor Leigh's relation to -life, and naturally the part selected is that which had also its -relation to John Marvel. - -If it be supposed by any one that Miss Eleanor Leigh devoted her entire -time and thought to working among the poor he is greatly mistaken. John -Marvel and Leo Wolffert did this: but Miss Leigh was far from living the -consecrated life. She only made it a part of her life, that is all, and -possibly this was the best for her to do. The glimpse which she got at -the death-bed in the Banyan cottage that night when she went to help -John Marvel fight death, tore the veil from her eyes and gave her a -revelation of a life of which she had never dreamed till then, though it -lay all about her in its tragic nakedness--but while it gave her pause -and inspired her with a sincere wish to help the poor--or, possibly, to -help John Marvel and Leo Wolffert, it did not change her nature or make -her a missionary. An impulse, whatever its ultimate action, does not -revolutionize. She still retained the love of pleasure natural to all -young creatures. The young tree shoots up by nature into the sun. She -still took part in the gay life about her, and, if possible, found a -greater zest in it for the consciousness that she had widened her -horizon and discovered more interests outside of the glittering little -brazen circle in which her orbit had been hitherto confined. She had -immediately on returning home interested herself to secure for John -Marvel an invitation from Dr. Capon, her rector, to become one of his -assistants and take charge of an outlying chapel which he had built in -the poorest district of the town, moved thereto by a commendable feeling -that the poor should have the gospel preached to them and that his -church should not allow all the honors to go to other churches, -particularly that of Rome. Dr. Capon prided himself and was highly -esteemed by his fellows--that is, the upper officials, clergy, and laity -alike--on his ability to obtain from his people the funds needed to -extend what was known as "the work of the Parish," by which was -signified mainly the construction of buildings, additions thereto, -embellishments thereof, and stated services therein, and, incidentally, -work among the poor for whom the buildings were supposed to have been -planned. The buildings having all been erected and paid for and due -report and laudation thereof having been made, it was found rather more -difficult to fill them than had been previously anticipated. And it was -set down somewhat to the perversity of the poor that they refused the -general invitation extended them to come and be labelled and patronized -with words and smiles quite as unctuous as benignant. - -Dr. Capon had not the reputation of getting on quite comfortably with -his assistants. The exactions of his type of success had made him a -business man. As his power of organization increased, spirituality -dwindled. He dealt more with the rich and less with the poor. He had the -reputation of being somewhat exacting in his demands on them, and of -having a somewhat overweening sense of his own importance and authority. -Bright young men either declined altogether his suggestions of the -whiteness of the harvest in the purlieus of the city, or, having been -led into accepting positions under him, soon left him for some country -parish or less imposing curacy--an exotic word which the Doctor himself -had had something to do with importing from over seas. It thus happened -that his chapel recently built for the poor with funds elicited from Dr. -Capon's wealthy parishioners was vacant when Miss Eleanor Leigh -consulted the Reverend Doctor as to a good church for a peculiarly good -young clergyman, and the Doctor being at that time in his second -mourning and likewise in that state of receptivity incident to clerical -widowers of a year and a half's standing, yielded readily to his fair -parishioner's solicitations, and the position was tendered to John -Marvel and after some hesitation was accepted--his chief motive being -that his old friend Wolffert was there doing a work in which he had -greatly interested him. If the fact that Miss Eleanor Leigh also lived -in that city influenced him, it would simply prove that John Marvel, -like the rest of Humanity was only mortal. The tender was made without -the usual preliminary examination of the young man by the Doctor, so -impressed had he been by the young girl's enthusiastic accounts of John -Marvel's work and influence among the poor. Thus it was, that when John -Marvel finally presented himself, the Doctor was more than surprised at -his appearance--he was, indeed, almost shocked. - -The Doctor was not only fond of his own appearance--which was certainly -that of a gentleman and a very well-fed and clerical looking one as -well--but he took especial pride in having his assistants also -good-looking and clerical. He loved to march in processional and -recessional at the end of a stately procession with two or three -fine-looking young priests marching before him. It had a solemnizing -effect--it made the church appear something important. It linked him -with the historic and Apostolic Church of the ages. With the swelling -organ pouring forth its strains to soar and die among the groined arches -above him, he sometimes felt as he glanced along the surpliced line -before him as if he were borne away, and had any one cried to him from -the side he might almost have been able to heal with his blessing. But -this short, broad, bow-legged, near-sighted man in his shabby, -ill-fitting clothes! Why, it would never do to have him about him! He -would mar the whole harmony of the scene. If it had not been too late -and if the young man had not had such a potent influence behind him, the -Doctor might have suggested some difficulties in the way of carrying -through the arrangements he had proposed; but though Mrs. Argand and her -brother-in-law were understood to have had some differences over certain -business matters, she was very fond of her niece and she was the -wealthiest woman who came to his church. The Doctor reflected, -therefore, that he need not have the awkward young man about him much: -and when a little later it appeared that this gawky young man was -filling his chapel and neighborhood-house, poor-club and night-schools -and was sending in reports which showed that real work was being done, -the Doctor was well satisfied to let him remain--so well, indeed, that -he never invited him to his house socially, but only held official -relations with him. The report that among John Marvel's chief assistants -in the work of organizing his poor-clubs and night-school was a Jew -Socialist disturbed the Doctor slightly, but he reflected that when one -showed such notable results it was in a way necessary to employ many -curious agencies, and, after all, the association with Jews in secular -affairs was a matter of taste. - - - - -XIII - -MR. LEIGH. - - -Now, to recur to the period of my arrival in the West--the day after -Miss Leigh's return home her father paid her the unusual honor of -leaving his office to take lunch with her. - -Her mind was full of the subject of the paper she had read in the press -that morning, giving a lurid picture of the inconvenience and distress -entailed on the passengers and scoring the management of the company for -permitting what was claimed to be "so gross a breach of the rights of -the public." - -Ordinarily, she would have passed it over with indifference--a shrug of -her white shoulders and a stamp of her little foot would have been all -the tribute she would have paid to it. But of late she had begun to -think. - -It had never before been brought so clearly to the notice of the girl -how her own pleasures--not the natural but the created pleasures--of -which she was quite as fond as other healthy girls of her age and class, -were almost exclusively at the expense of the class she had been -accustomed to regard with a general sort of vague sympathy as "the -Poor." - -The attack on her father and herself enraged her; but, as she cooled -down, a feeling deeper than mere anger at an injustice took possession -of her mind. - -To find that she herself had, in a way, been the occasion of the -distress to women and children, startled her and left in her mind a -feeling of uneasiness to which she had hitherto been a stranger. - -"Father," she began, "did you see that dreadful article in the _Trumpet_ -this morning?" - -Mr. Leigh, without looking up, adopted the natural line of special -pleading, although he knew perfectly well instantly the article to which -she referred. - -"What article?" he asked. - -"That story about our having delayed the passenger train with women and -children on it and then having side-tracked them without breakfast, in -order to give our car the right-of-way." - -"Oh! yes. I believe I saw that. I see so many ridiculous things in the -newspapers, I pay no attention to them." - -"But, father, that was a terrible arraignment," said the girl. - -"Of whom?" asked Mr. Leigh, with a little twinkle in his eye. - -"Why, of you; of Aunt Sophia, of----" - -"Of me!" - -"Yes, and of me--of everybody connected with the road." - -"Not of you, my dear," said Mr. Leigh, with the light of affection -warming up his rather cold face. "Surely no one, even the anarchistic -writers of the anarchistic press, could imagine anything to say against -you." - -"Yes, of me, too, though not by name, perhaps; but I was there and I was -in a way the cause of the trouble, because the car was sent after me -and Aunt Sophia, and I feel terribly guilty about it." - -"Guilty of what, my dear?" smiled her father. "Of simply using your own -property in a way satisfactory to you?" - -"That is just it, father; that is the point which the writer raises. Is -it our own property?" - -"It certainly is, my love. Property that I have paid for--my associates -and I--and which I control, or did control, in conjunction with the -other owners, and propose to control to suit myself and them so long as -we have the controlling interest, every socialistic writer, speaker and -striker to the contrary notwithstanding." - -"Well," said the girl, "that sounds all right. It looks as if you ought -to be able to do what you like with your own; but, do you know, father, -I am not sure that it is our own. That is just the point--he says----" - -"Oh! nonsense!" said her father lightly. "Don't let this Jew go and fill -your clear little head with such foolishness as that. Enjoy life while -you can. Make your mind easy, and get all the use you can out of what I -have amassed for you. I only hope you may have as much pleasure in using -it as I have had in providing it." - -The banker gazed over at his daughter half-quizzically, half-seriously, -took out a cigar, and began to clip the end leisurely. The girl laughed. -She knew that he had something on his mind. - -"Well, what is it?" she asked smiling. - -He gave a laugh. "Don't go and imagine that because that Jew can write -he is any the less a--don't go and confound him and his work. It is the -easiest thing in the world to pick flaws--to find the defects in any -system. The difficult thing is constructive work." - -She nodded. - -"Did that foreigner go down there while you were there?" - -"The Count?" - -"The No-Count." - -"No, of course not. Where did you get such an idea?" - -He lighted his cigar with a look of relief, put it in his mouth, and sat -back in his chair. - -"Don't let your Aunt Sophia go and make a fool of you. She is a very -good business woman, but you know she is not exactly--Solomon, and she -is stark mad about titles. When you marry, marry a man." - -"Mr. Canter, for example?" laughed the girl. "He is Aunt Sophia's second -choice. She is always talking about his money." - -"She is always talking about somebody's money, generally her own. But -before I'd let that fellow have you I'd kill him with my own hand. He's -the worst young man I know. Why, if I could tell you half--yes, -one-tenth, of the things I have heard about him--But I can't tell -you--only don't go and let anybody pull the wool over your eyes." - -"No fear of that," said the girl. - -"No, I don't know that there is. I think you've got a pretty clear -little head on your shoulders. But when any one gets--gets--why, gets -her feelings enlisted you can't just count on her, you know. And with -your Aunt Sophy ding-donging at you and flinging her sleek Count and -her gilded fools at you, it takes a good head to resist her." - -The girl reassured him with a smile of appreciation. - -"I don't know where she got that from," continued her father. "It must -have been that outside strain, the Prenders. Your mother did not have a -trace of it in her. I never saw two half-sisters so different. She'd -have married anybody on earth she cared for--and when she married me I -had nothing in the world except what my father chose to give me and no -very great expectations. She had a rich fellow from the South tagging -after her--a big plantation and lots of slaves and all that, and your -Aunt Sophy was all for her marrying him--a good chap, too--a gentleman -and all that; but she turned him down and took me. And I made my own -way. What I have I made afterward--by hard work till I got a good start, -and then it came easy enough. The trouble since has been to keep others -from stealing it from me--and that's more trouble than to make it, I can -tell you--what between strikers, gamblers, councilmen, and other knaves, -I have a hard time to hold on to what I have." - -"I know you have to work very hard," said the girl, her eyes on him full -of affection. "Why, this is the first time I've had you up to lunch with -me in months. I felt as much honored as if it had been the King of -England." - -"That's it--I have to stay down there to keep the robbers from running -off with my pile. That young fellow thought he'd get a little swipe at -it, but I taught him a thing or two. He's a plunger. His only idea is to -make good by doubling up--all right if the market's rising and you can -double. But it's a dangerous game, especially if one tries to recoup at -the faro table." - -"Does he play faro?" asked the girl. - -"He plays everything, mainly Merry H--l. I beg your pardon--I didn't -mean to say that before you, but he does. And if his father didn't come -to his rescue and plank up every time he goes broke, he'd have been in -the bankrupt court--or jail--and that's where he'll wind up yet if he -don't look out." - -"I don't believe you like him," laughed the girl. - -"Oh! yes, I do. I like him well enough--he is amusing rather, he is gay, -careless, impudent--he's the main conduit through which I extract money -from old Prender's coffers. He never spends anything unless you pay him -two gold dollars down for one paper one on the spot. But I want him to -keep away from you, that's all; I suppose I've got to lose you some -time, but I'll be hanged if I want to give you up to a blackguard--a -gambler--a rou--a lib--a d----d blackguard like that." - -"Well, you will never have that to do," said the girl; "I promise you -that." - -"How is the strike coming on?" asked his daughter. "When I went away it -was just threatening, and I read in the papers that the negotiations -failed and the men were ordered out; but I haven't seen much about it in -the papers since, though I have looked." - -"Oh! Yes--it's going on, over on the other lines across town, in a -desultory sort of way," said her father wearily--"the fools! They won't -listen to any reason." - -"Poor people!" sighed the girl. "Why did they go out?" - -"Poor fools!" said Mr. Leigh warmly; "they walked out for nothing more -than they always have had." - -"I saw that they had some cause; what was it?" - -"Oh! they've always some cause. If they didn't have one they'd make it. -Now they are talking of extending it over our lines." - -"Our lines! Why?" - -"Heaven knows. We've done everything they demanded--in reason. They talk -about a sympathetic strike. I hear that a fellow has come on to bring it -about. Poor fools!" - -The girl gave him a smile of affection as he pushed back his chair. And -leaning over her as he walked toward the door, he gave her a kiss of -mingled pride and affection. But when he had left the room she sat still -for some moments, looking straight ahead of her, her brow slightly -puckered with thought which evidently was not wholly pleasant, and then -with a sweeping motion of her hand she pushed her chair back, and, as -she arose from the table, said: "I wish I knew what is right!" That -moment a new resolution entered her mind, and, ringing the bell for the -servant, she ordered her carriage. - - - - -XIV - -MISS LEIGH SEEKS WORK - - -She drove first to Dr. Capon's church and, going around, walked in at -the side door near the east end, where the robing rooms and the rector's -study were. She remembered to have seen on a door somewhere there a sign -on which was painted in gilded letters the fact that the rector's office -hours were from 12 to 1 on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, and this -was Thursday. The hour, however, was now nearly three, and she had -called only on a chance of catching him, a chance which a stout and -gloomy looking verger, who appeared from somewhere at her foot-fall, -told her at first was lost; but when he recognized her, he changed his -air, grew quite interested, and said he would see if the doctor was in. -He had been there he knew after lunch, but he might have left. He -entered and closed the door softly behind him, leaving the girl in the -gloom, but a moment later he returned and showed her in. The rector, -with a smile of unfeigned pleasure on his face, was standing just beside -a handsome mahogany writing desk, near a window, awaiting her entry, and -he greeted her with cordiality. - -"Oh! my dear young lady, come in. I was just about going off, and I'm -glad I happened to have lingered a little--getting ready to launch a new -year-book." He laid his fingers on a batch of printer's proof lying on -the desk beside a stock bulletin. "I was just thinking what a bore it -is and lo! it turned into a blessing like Balaam's curse. What can I do -for you?" The rector's large blue eyes rested on his comely parishioner -with a spark in them that was not from any spiritual fire. - -"Well, I don't know," said the girl doubtfully. - -"I see you were at the grand ball, or whatever it was last night, and I -was so delighted to see that it was for a charitable object--and the -particular object which I saw." - -"Yes, it is for Mr. Marvel's work out among the poor," said Miss Leigh. -The rector's expression changed slightly. - -"Oh! yes, that is our work. You know that is our chapel. I built it. The -ball must have been a great success. It was the first knowledge I had -that you and your dear aunt had returned." His voice had a tone of faint -reproach in it. - -"Yes, we returned yesterday. I wish the papers would leave me alone," -she added. - -"Ah! my dear young lady, there are many who would give a great deal to -be chronicled by the public prints as you are. The morning and evening -star is always mentioned while the little asteroids go unnoticed." - -"Well, I don't know about that," said the girl, "but I do wish the -papers would let me alone--and my father too." - -"Oh! yes, to be sure. I did not know what you were referring to. That -was an outrageous attack. So utterly unfounded, too, absolutely untrue. -Such scurrilous attacks deserve the reprobation of all thinking men." - -"The trouble is that the attack was untrue; but the story was not -unfounded." - -"What! What do you mean?" The clergyman's face wore a puzzled -expression. - -"That our car was hitched on to the train----" - -"And why shouldn't it be, my dear young lady? Doesn't the road belong to -your father; at least, to your family--and those whom they represent?" - -"I don't know that it does, and that is one reason why I have come to -see you." - -"Of course, it does. You will have to go to a lawyer to ascertain the -exact status of the title; but I have always understood it does. Why, -your aunt, Mrs. Argand, owns thousands of shares, doesn't she, and your -father?" A grave suspicion suddenly flitted across his mind relative to -a rumor he had heard of heavy losses by Mr. Leigh and large gains by Mr. -Canter, the president of the road, and his associates who, according to -this rumor, were hostile to Mr. Leigh. - -"I don't know, but even if they do, I am not sure that that makes them -owners. Did you read that article?" - -"No--well, not all of it--I glanced over a part of it, enough to see -that it was very scurrilous, that's all. The headlines were simply -atrocious. The article itself was not so wickedly----" - -"I should like to do some work among the poor," said the girl -irrelevantly. - -"Why, certainly--just what we need--the earnest interest and assistance -of just such persons as yourself, of your class; the good, earnest, -representatives of the upper class. If we had all like you there would -be no cry from Macedonia." - -"Well, how can I go about it?" demanded the girl rather cutting in on -the rector's voluble reply. - -"Why, you can teach in the Sunday-school--we have a class of nice girls, -ladies, you know, a very small one--and I could make my superintendent -arrange for Miss--for the lady who now has them to take another -class--one of the orphan classes." - -"No, I don't mean that kind of thing. If I taught at all I should like -to try my hand at the orphan class myself." - -"Well, that could be easily arranged--" began the rector; but his -visitor kept on without heeding him. - -"Only I should want to give them all different hats and dresses. I can't -bear to see all those poor little things dressed exactly in the same -way--sad, drab or gray frocks, all cut by the same pattern--and the same -hats, year in and year out." - -"Why, they have new hats every year," expostulated the rector. - -"I mean the same kind of hat. Tall and short; stout and thin; slim or -pudgy; they all wear the same horrible, round hats--I can't bear to look -at them. I vow I'd give them all a different hat for Christmas." - -"Oh! my dear, you can't do that--you would spoil them--and it's against -the regulations. You must remember that these children are orphans!" - -"Being orphans is bad enough," declared the girl, "but those hats are -worse. Well, I can't teach them, but I might try some other poor -class?" - -"Why, let me see. The fact is that we haven't any"--he was speaking -slowly, casting his mind over his field--"very poor people in this -church. There used to be a number; but they don't come any more. They -must have moved out of the neighborhood. I must make my assistant look -them up." - -"You have no poor, then?" - -"Not in this congregation. The fact is this church is not very well -suited to them. They don't mix with our people. You see our class of -people--of course, we are doing a great work among the poor, our -chapels--we have three, one of them, indeed, is a church and larger than -many independent churches. Another has given me some anxiety, but the -third is doing quite a remarkable work among the working people out in -the east end--that under my assistant, the young man you interested -yourself so much in last year--and which your ball committee was good -enough to consider in selecting the object of its benevolence." - -"Yes, I know--Mr. Marvel. I will go out there." - -"Oh! my dear, you couldn't go out there!" - -"Why not? I want to see him." - -"Why, it is away out on the edge of the city--what you might call the -jumping-off place--among manufactories and railroad shops." - -"Yes, I know. I have been out there." - -"You have--why, it is away out. It is on--I don't recall the name of the -street. It's away out. I know it's near the street-car terminus that -your family own. It's a very pretty chapel indeed. Don't you think so? -It is natural that you should take an interest in it, as your aunt, Mrs. -Argand, helped us to build it. She gave the largest contribution toward -it. I don't know what we should do without charitable women like her." - -"Yes, I know. And Mr. Marvel is coming on well?" - -A change came over the face of the rector. "Oh, very well--rather an -ungainly fellow and very slow, but doing a very good work for our -parish. I have been wanting to get the Bishop to go there all this year -as there are a number of candidates for me to present; but he has been -so busy and I have been so busy----" - -"I will go there," said Miss Leigh, rising. - -"I don't think you will like it," urged the rector. "It is a very bad -part of the town--almost dangerous, indeed--filled with working people -and others of that sort, and I don't suppose a carriage ever----" - -"I will go in the street cars," said the girl. - -"The street cars! Yes, you could go that way, but why not come here and -let me assign you a class?" - -"I wish to work among the poor." - -"The happy poor!" said the rector, smiling. "Why not come and help me in -my work--who need you so much?" His voice had changed suddenly and he -attempted to possess himself of the gloved hand that rested on his -table, but it was suddenly withdrawn. - -"I thought we had settled that finally last year," said Miss Leigh -firmly. - -"Ah, yes; but the heart is not so easily regulated." - -"Oh! yes, yours is. Why don't you try Aunt Sophia again?" - -"Try--again?--who?" The rector was manifestly somewhat embarrassed. - -"Why, Aunt Sophia--'the evening star,'" said Miss Leigh, laughing. - -"Who says--? Did she say I had--ah--addressed her?" - -"No--I got it from you. Come on now----" - -"Which way are you going? That is just my way. May I have the pleasure -of driving up with you? I must go and see your aunt and welcome her -back. One moment." He had shown the young lady out of the door. He now -turned back and folding up the stock bulletin placed it carefully in his -pocket. - -As the carriage with its smart team turned into one of the broader -streets, two young men were standing in a window of a large building -highly decorated, looking idly out on the street. They had just been -talking of the threatened strike which the newspapers were discussing, -as to which they held similar views. - -"I tell you what is the matter with those scoundrels," said the elder of -the two, a large, pampered young fellow; "they need cold steel--they -ought to be made to work." - -"How would that suit us?" laughed the other. - -"We don't have to." - -"Hello! What's old Bart after?" observed the first one. - -"Shekels," said the other, and yawned. - -"After her--he's taking notice." - -"Oh! no; he's wedded to the tape--goes into the Grand five times a day -and reads the tape." - -"Bet you, he courts her." - -"How'll you prove it?" - -"Ask her." - -"Bet you you daren't ask her." - -"How much?" - -"What you like." - -"I don't want to win your money." - -"Don't you? Then hand me back that little fifteen hundred you picked up -from me last week." - -"That was square, but this is a certainty." - -"I'd chance it--bet you a thousand, Jim, you daren't ask her to her face -if old Bart isn't courting her and hasn't asked her to marry him." - -"Oh! that's different. You want to make me put up and then make my bet -for me. I tell you what I'll bet--that she's the only girl I know I -wouldn't ask that." - -"That may be. Now, I tell you what I'll bet--that you want a drink--ring -the bell." - -"That's a certainty, too," laughed his friend, and they turned and sank -wearily in deep chairs till a drink should give them energy to start a -fresh discussion. - -Having put down the Rev. Bartholomew at the door of her aunt's imposing -mansion, Eleanor Leigh, after a moment of indecision, directed her -coachman to drive to a certain street in the section known as -"down-town," and there she stopped at a pleasant looking old house, and -jumping out of the carriage, ran up the worn stone steps and rang the -bell. It was a street that had once been fashionable, as the ample, -well-built houses and the good doors and windows testified. But that -fickle jade, Fashion, had long since taken her flight to other and more -pretentious sections and shops, loan-offices, and small grocers' markets -had long engulfed the mansions of the last generation. Had any gauge of -the decadence of the quarter been needed it might have been found in the -scornful air of Miss Leigh's stout coachman as he sat on his box. He -looked unutterably disgusted, and his chin was almost as high as the -chins of his tightly reined-up horses. - -Miss Leigh asked of the rather slatternly girl who came to the door, if -the Miss Tippses were in, and if so, would they see her. When the maid -went to see if they were at home, Miss Leigh was shown into a large and -very dark room with chairs of many patterns, all old, placed about in -it, a horsehair sofa on one side, a marble-topped table in the centre; -an upright piano on the other side, and on a small table a large piece -of white coral under a glass cover. Where the fireplace had once been, a -large register now stood grating off the heat that might try in vain to -escape through it. - -Presently the maid returned. "Miss Pansy" was in, and would the lady -please walk up. It was in the third story, back, at the top of the -stairs. Miss Leigh ran up and tapped on the door, waited and tapped -again. Then, as there was no answer, she opened the door cautiously and -peeped in. It was a small hall-room, bare of furniture except two -chairs, a sewing-machine, a table on which was an ironing-board at which -at the moment stood a little old lady with a forehead so high as to be -almost bald. She was clad in a rusty black skirt, a loose morning sacque -of blue cotton, and she wore loose bedroom-slippers. Her sleeves were -rolled up, and her arms were thin and skinny. She held a flat-iron in -her hand, with which she had evidently been ironing a white -under-garment which lay on the board, and another one was on a little -gas-stove which stood near a stationary wash-stand. As Miss Leigh opened -the door, the old lady gave a little exclamation of dismay and her hand -went involuntarily to her throat. - -"Oh! I beg your pardon!" said the girl, starting to retire and close the -door; "I thought the servant told me----" - -By this time the other had recovered herself. - -"Oh! come in, won't you?" she said, with a smile and in a voice -singularly soft and refined. "My sister will be ready to receive you in -a moment. I was only a little startled. The fact is," she said laughing, -"I thought the door was bolted; but sometimes the bolt does not go quite -in. My sister--Won't you take a chair? Let me remove those things." She -took up the pile of under-garments that was on one chair and placed it -on top of a pile of dishes and other things on the other. - -"Oh! I am so sorry," protested the girl, who observed that she was -concealing the dishes; "I was sure the girl told me it was the door at -the head of the stairs." - -"She is the stupidest creature--that girl. I must really get my sister -to speak to Mrs. Kale about her. I would, except that I am afraid the -poor thing might lose her place. There is another door just off the -little passage that she probably meant." - -"Yes--probably. It was I that was stupid." - -"Oh! no, not at all. You must excuse the disorder you find. The fact is, -this is our work-room, and we were just--I was just doing a little -ironing to get these things finished. When your card was brought -up--well, we both were--and as my sister is so much quicker, she ran to -get ready and I thought I would just finish this when I was at it, and -you would excuse me." - -"Oh! I am so sorry. I wouldn't for anything have interrupted you," -repeated the girl, observing how all the time she was trying -unobtrusively to arrange her poor attire, rolling down her sleeves and -smoothing her darned skirt, all the while with a furtive glance of her -eye toward the door. - -"Oh! my dear, I wouldn't have had you turned away for anything in the -world. My sister would be _désolée_. We have a better room than this, -where we usually receive our visitors. You will see what a nice room it -is. We can't very well afford to have two rooms; but this is too small -for us to live in comfortably and we have to keep it because it has a -stationary wash-stand with hot water, which enables us to do our -laundering." - -"Yes, I see," murmured Miss Leigh softly. - -"You see, we earn our living by making underclothes for--for a firm----" - -"I see, and what nice work you do." She was handling a garment softly. - -"Yes, my sister does beautiful work; and I used to do pretty well, too; -but I am troubled a little with my eyes lately. The light isn't very -good at night--and the gas is so expensive. I don't see quite as well as -I used to do." - -"How much can you do?" asked her visitor, who had been making a mental -calculation. - -"Why, I--It is hard to tell. I do the coarser work and my sister does -the finishing; then she usually launders and I iron when I am able. I -suffer with rheumatism so that I can't help her very much." - -"I hope you make them pay you well for it," blurted out the girl. - -"Why, we used to get a very good price. We got till recently seven cents -apiece, but now it has been cut down--that was for everything, -laundering and ironing, too. We are glad to get that." - -"How on earth do you manage to live on it?" - -"Oh! we live very well--very well, indeed," said the little lady -cheerfully. "Mrs. Kale is very good to us. She lets us have the rooms -cheaper than she would any one else. You see she used to know us when we -lived back in the East. Her father was a clerk in our father's office, -and her mother went to school with us. Then when we lost everything and -were turned out, we found we had to make our own living and we came here -to see about our case, and she found we were here--and that's the way we -came to be here. But don't you let my sister know I told you about the -sewing," she said, dropping her voice, as a brisk step was heard outside -the door. "Ah! here she is now!" as at the moment the door opened and a -brisk little old lady, almost the counterpart of her sister, except that -she might have been ten years her junior, that is, sixty instead of -seventy years of age, tripped into the room. - -"Oh! my dear Miss Leigh, how good of you to come all the way out here to -call on us! Sister, what in the world are you doing? Why will you do -this? I can't keep her from amusing herself! (This with a shake of the -head and a comical appeal for sympathy from her visitor.) Won't you walk -into our sitting-room? Now, sister, do go and make yourself presentable. -You know she will slave over all sorts of queer things. She really loves -sewing and ironing. I'm quite ashamed to have you come into this -pig-sty. Walk in, won't you?" And she led the way into a larger room -adjoining the work-room, leaving Miss Leigh in doubt which was the more -pathetic, the little old lady still delving over the ironing-board, -making no pretence to conceal their poverty, or the other in her poor -"best," trying to conceal the straits in which they were fallen. - -Eleanor had observed that the older sister's gaze had constantly rested -on the rose she wore, and as they were going out, the latter called her -sister's attention to it. She said, she thought it possibly the most -beautiful rose she had ever seen. - -"Won't you have it?" said Eleanor, and unpinned it. - -"Oh! no, indeed, I wouldn't deprive you of it for anything. It is just -where it ought to be." - -Eleanor persisted, and finally overcame both her reluctance and her -sister's objection. - -She was struck with the caressing way in which she took and held it, -pressing it against her withered cheek. - -"Sister, don't you remember the Giant-of-Battles we used to have in our -garden at Rosebank? This reminds me of it so--its fragrance is just the -same." - -"Yes. We used to have a great many roses," explained the younger sister, -as she led the way into the next room as if she were asking Eleanor into -a palace, though this room was almost as bare of furniture as the other, -the chief difference being an upright case which was manifestly a -folding-bed, and a table on which were a score of books, and a few old -daguerreotypes. - -"Your friend, Mr. Marvel, was here the other day. What a nice young man -he is." - -"Yes," said Eleanor. "I am going out to see him. Where has he moved to?" -Miss Pansy said she did not know the street; but her sister had the -address. She would go and see. When she came back, she went over and -opened the old Bible lying on the table. "Here is where we keep the -addresses of those we especially value," she said, smiling. "Oh! here it -is. When he was here the other day, he brought us a treat; a whole -half-dozen oranges; won't you let me prepare you one? They are so -delicious." - -Eleanor, who had been holding a bank-note clutched in her hand, thanked -her with a smile, but said she must go. She walked across the room, and -took up the Bible casually, and when she laid it down it gaped a little -in a new place. - -"Oh, you know we have had quite an adventure," said Miss Pansy. - -"An adventure? Tell me about it." - -"Why, you must know there is a young man here I am sure must be some one -in disguise. He is so--well, not exactly handsome, but really -distinguished looking, and he knows all about railroads and things like -that." - -"You'd better look out for him," said Miss Leigh. - -"Oh, do you think so? My sister and I were thinking of consulting him -about our affairs--our railroad case, you know." - -"Oh! Well, what do you know about him?" - -"Nothing yet. You see, he has just come; but he joined us on the street -this morning when we were going out--just shopping--and offered to take -our bundles--just two little bundles we had in our hands, and was so -polite. My dear, he has quite the grand air!" - -"Oh, I see. Well, that does not necessarily make him a safe adviser. Why -not let me ask my father about your matter? He is a railroad man, and -could tell you in a minute all about it." - -"Oh, could you? That would be so kind in you." - -"But you must tell me the name of the road in which you had the stock." - -"Oh, my dear. I don't know that I can do that. I only know that it was -the Transcontinental and something and something else. I know that much, -because it was only about sixty miles long, and we used to say that the -name was longer than the road. My father used to say that it would some -day be a link in a transcontinental chain--that's where it got its name, -you know." - -"Well, look out for your prince in disguise," said the girl, smiling as -she rose to take her leave. - -That evening at dinner, after Eleanor had given her father an account of -her day, with which she always beguiled him, including a description of -her visit to the two old ladies, she suddenly asked, "Father, what -railroad was it that used to be known as the Transcontinental Something -and Something?'" - -"The what?" - -"The 'Transcontinental Something and Something Else?' It was about sixty -miles long, and was bought up by some bigger road and reorganized." - -"I suppose you mean the 'Transcontinental, North-western and Great Iron -Range Road.' That about meets the condition you mention. What do you -know about it?" - -"Was it reorganized?" - -"Yes; about twenty years ago, and again about ten years ago. I never -quite understood the last reorganization. Mr. Argand had it done--and -bought up most of the stock." - -"Was any one squeezed out?" - -"Sure--always are in such cases. That is the object of a -reorganization--partly. Why are you so interested in it?" Mr. Leigh's -countenance wore an amused look. - -"I have two friends--old ladies--who lost everything they had in it." - -"I guess it wasn't much. What is their name?" - -"It was all they had. They are named Tipps." - -Mr. Leigh's expression changed from amusement to seriousness. -"Tipps--Tipps?" he repeated reminiscently. "Bassett Tipps? I wonder if -they were connected with Bassett Tipps?" - -"They were his daughters--that was their father's name. I remember now, -Miss Pansy told me once." - -"You don't say so! Why, I used to know Colonel Tipps when he was the big -man of this region. He commanded this department before I came out here -to live, and the old settlers thought he was as great a man as General -Washington. He gave old Argand his start. He built that road,--was, in -fact, a man of remarkable foresight, and if he had not been -killed--Argand was his agent and general factotum--They didn't come -into the reorganization, I guess?" - -"That's it--they did not--and now they want to get their interest back." - -"Well, tell them to save their money," said Mr. Leigh. "It's gone--they -can't get it back." - -"They want you to get it back for them." - -"Me!" exclaimed Mr. Leigh. "They want me to get it back! Oh, ho-ho! -They'd better go after your Aunt Sophia and Canter." - -"Yes; I told them you would." - -"You did?" Mr. Leigh's eyes once more lit up with amusement. - -"Yes: you see they were robbed of every cent they had in the world, and -they have not a cent left." - -"Oh! no, they were not robbed. Everything was properly done and -absolutely regular, as I remember. It must have been. I think there was -some sort of claim presented afterward by the Tipps Estate which was -turned down. Let me see; McSheen had the claim, and he gave it up--that -was when? Let me see. He became counsel for your Uncle Argand in--what -year was it?--you were a baby--it must have been eighteen years ago." - -"That was nineteen years ago, sir. I am now twenty," said his daughter, -sitting up with a very grand air. - -The father's eyes lit up with pride and affection as he gazed at the -trim, straight figure and the glowing face. - -"You were just a little baby--so big." He measured a space of about two -span with his hands. "That was your size then, for I know I thought your -Uncle Argand might have made me counsel instead of McSheen. But he -didn't. And that was McSheen's start." - -"He sold out," said the girl with decision. - -"Oh, no--I don't think he would do that. He is a lawyer." - -"Yes, he would. He's a horrid, old, disreputable rascal. I've always -thought it, and now I know it. And I want you to get my old ladies' -interest back for them." - -"I can't do that. No one can. It's too long ago. If they ever had a -claim it's all barred, long ago." - -"It oughtn't to be--if it was stolen," persisted his daughter, "and it -was." - - - - -XV - -THE LADY OF THE VIOLETS - - -Having decided that Mrs. Kale's did not present the best advantages, I -determined to move to more suitable quarters. I chose a boarding-house, -partly by accident and partly because it was in a semi-fashionable -quarter which I liked, and I paid Mrs. Starling, the landlady, a -decisive person, two weeks' board in advance, so as to have that long a -lease at any rate, and a point from which to take my bearings. I had -learned of the place through Kalender, who was deeply enamored of Miss -Starling, a Byzantine-hued young lady, and who regarded the house -somewhat as Adam is assumed to have regarded Eden after his banishment. -Mrs. Starling was, in this case, the angel of the flaming sword. She had -higher ambitions for Miss Starling. - -I had less than forty dollars left, and fifteen of that was borrowed -next day by a fellow-boarder named Pushkin, who occupied the big front -room adjoining my little back hall-room, and who had "forgotten to draw -any money out of bank," he said, but would "return it the next day at -dinner time," a matter he also forgot. I was particularly struck with -him not because he had a title and was much kotowed to by our landlady -and her boarders--especially the ladies, as because I recalled his name -in juxtaposition with Miss Leigh's in the flamboyant account of the ball -the night after I arrived. - -I was now ensconced in a little pigeon-hole of an office in a big -building near the court-house, where, with a table, two chairs, and a -dozen books, I had opened what I called my "law office," without a -client or an acquaintance; but with abundant hopes. - -I found the old principle on which I had been reared set at naught, and -that life in its entirety was a vast struggle based on selfishness. - -I was happy enough at first, and it was well I was. It was a long time -before I was happy again. Having in mind Miss Leigh, I wrote and secured -a few letters of introduction; but they were from people who did not -care anything for me to people who did not care anything about -them--semi-fashionable folk, mainly known in social circles, and I had -no money to throw away on society. One, indeed, a friend of mine had -gotten for me from Mr. Poole to a man of high standing both in business -and social circles, the president of a manufacturing company, with -which, as I learned later, Mr. Poole had formerly some connection. This -gentleman's name was Leigh, and I wondered if he were the same person -who had been posted by Kalender at the head of my story of the delayed -train. I thought of presenting the letter. It, however, was so guarded -that I thought it would not do me the least good, and, besides, I did -not wish to owe anything to Lilian Poole's father, for I felt sure his -influence had always been against me, and I was still too sore to be -willing to accept a favor at his hands. - -It was well I did not present it, for Mr. Poole with well-considered and -characteristic prudence, had written a private letter restricting the -former letter to mere social purposes, and had intimated that I had been -a failure in my profession and was inclined to speculate. This character -he had obtained, as I subsequently learned, from Peck. - -The new conditions with which I was confronted had a singular effect on -me. I was accustomed to a life where every one knew me and I knew, if -not every one, at least something good or bad about every one. - -Here I might have committed anything short of murder or suicide without -comment, and might have committed both without any one outside of the -reporters and the police and Dix caring a straw about it. - -I felt peculiarly lonely because I was inclined to be social and -preferred to associate with the first man I met on the street to being -alone. In fact, I have always accounted it one of my chief blessings -that I could find pleasure and entertainment for a half-hour in the -company of any man in the world except a fool or a man of fashion, as -the old writers used to speak of them, or as we call them now, members -of the smart set. - -The first things that struck me as I stepped out into the thronged -streets of the city were the throngs that hurried, hurried, hurried -along, like a torrent pouring through a defile, never stopping nor -pausing--only flowing on, intent on but one thing--getting along. Their -faces, undistinguished and indistinguishable in the crowd, were not -eager, but anxious. There was no rest, and no room for rest, more than -in the rapids of Niagara. It was the bourgeoisie at flood, strong, -turgid, and in mass, ponderant; but inextinguishably common. As I stood -among them, yet not of them, I could not but remark how like they were -in mass and how not merely all distinction but all individuality -perished in the mixing. I recalled a speech that my father had once -made. "I prefer countrymen," he said, "to city men. The latter are as -like as their coats. The ready-made-clothing house is a great civilizer, -but also a great leveler. Like the common school of which you boast, it -may uplift the mass, but it levels--it destroys all distinction." - -This came home to me now. - -I had a proof of its truth, and, I may add, of the effect of urban -influences not long after I launched on the restless sea of city life. I -was passing one day along a street filled with houses, some much finer -than others, when my way was blocked by a child's funeral in front of a -small but neat house beside one much more pretentious. The white hearse -stood at the door and the little white coffin with a few flowers on it -was just about to be borne out as I came up. A child's funeral has -always appealed to me peculiarly. It seems so sad to have died on the -threshold before even opening the door. It appeared to me suddenly to -have brought me near to my kind. And I stopped in front of the adjoining -house to wait till the sorrowing little cortege had entered the -carriage which followed behind the hearse. A number of other persons had -done the same thing. At this moment, the door of the larger house next -door opened, and a woman, youngish and well-dressed, appeared and stood -on her steps waiting for her carriage which stood at some little -distance. - -As I was standing near her, I turned and asked her in an undertone: - -"Can you tell me whose funeral this is?" - -"No, I cannot," she said, so sharply that I took a good look at her as -she stood trying to button a tight glove. - -"Oh! I thought, perhaps, you knew as they are your next-door neighbors." - -"Well, I do not. It's no concern of mine," she said shortly. She -beckoned to her carriage across the way. The coachman who had been -looking at the funeral caught sight of her and with a start wheeled his -horses around to draw up. The number of persons, however, who had -stopped like myself prevented his coming up to her door, which appeared -to annoy the lady. - -"Can't you move these people on?" she demanded angrily of a stout -officer who stood like the rest of us, looking on. - -"It's a funeral," he said briefly. - -"Well, I know it is. I don't expect you to interfere with that. It's -these idlers and curiosity mongers who block the way that I want moved -to clear a way for my carriage. And if you can't do it, I'll ask Mr. -McSheen to put a man on this beat who can. As it happens I am going -there now." Insolence could go no farther. - -"Let that carriage come up here, will you?" said the officer without -changing his expression. "Drive up, lad," he beckoned to the coachman -who came as near as he could. - -"To Mrs. McSheen's," said the lady in a voice evidently intended for the -officer to hear, "and next time, don't stand across the street staring -at what you have no business with, but keep your eyes open so that you -won't keep me waiting half an hour beckoning to you." She entered the -carriage and drove off, making a new attack on her glove to close it -over a pudgy wrist. I glanced at the coachman as she closed the door and -I saw an angry gleam flash in his eye. And when I turned to the officer -he was following the carriage with a look of hate. I suddenly felt drawn -to them both, and the old fight between the People and the Bourgeoisie -suddenly took shape before me, and I found where my sympathies lay. At -this moment the officer turned and I caught his eye and held it. It was -hard and angry at first, but as he gave me a keen second glance, he saw -something in my face and his eye softened. - -"Who is Mr. McSheen?" I asked. - -"The next mayor," he said briefly. - -"Oh!" I took out my card under an impulse and scribbled my office -address on it and handed it to him. "If you have any trouble about this -let me know." - -He took it and turning it slowly gazed at it, at first with a puzzled -look. Then as he saw the address his expression changed. - -He opened his coat and put it carefully in his pocket. - -"Thank you, sir," he said finally. - -I turned away with the consciousness that I had had a new light thrown -on life, and had found it more selfish than I had dreamed. I had begun -with high hopes. It was, indeed, ever my nature to be hopeful, being -healthy and strong and in the prime of vigorous youth. I was always rich -when at my poorest, only my heavy freighted ship had not come in. I knew -that though the larder was lean and storms were beating furiously off -the coast, somewhere, beating her way against the contrary winds, the -argosy was slowly making headway, and some day I should find her moored -beside my pier and see her stores unladen at my feet. The stress and -storm of the struggle were not unwelcome to me. I was always a good -fighter when aroused; but I was lazy and too indolent to get aroused. -Now, however, I was wide awake. The greatness of the city stirred my -pulses. Its blackness and its force aroused my sleeping powers, and as I -stepped into the surf and felt the rush of the tides as they swept about -and by me, I felt as a fair swimmer might who steps for the first time -in a fierce current and feels it clutch his limbs and draw him in. I was -not afraid, only awakened and alive to the struggle before me, and my -senses thrilled as I plunged and rose to catch my breath and face the -vast unknown. Later on I found that the chief danger I had not counted -on: the benumbing of the senses, the slow process under which spirit, -energy, courage, and even hope finally die. - -One who has never had the experience of starting in a big city alone, -without a connection of any kind, cannot conceive what it means: the -loneliness--utter as in a desert--the waiting--the terrible -waiting--being obliged to sit day after day and just wait for business -to come, watching your small funds ooze out drop by drop, seeing men -pass your door and enter others' offices and never one turn in at yours, -till your spirit sinks lower and lower and your heart dies within you. -One who has not felt it does not know what it is to be out of work and -not able to get it. The rich and fat and sleek--the safe and -secure--what know they of want! Want, not of money, but of work: the -only capital of the honest and industrious poor! It is the spectre that -ever haunts the poor. It makes the world look as though the whole system -of society were out of joint--as if all men were in conspiracy against -you--as if God had forgotten you. I found men in a harder case than -mine--men in multitude, with wives and children, the babe perishing at -the mother's withered breast, the children dying for food, staggering -along the streets seeking work in vain, while wealth in a glittering -flood poured through the streets in which they perished. This bitter -knowledge I came to learn day after day till I grew almost to hate -mankind. The next step is war against society. Not all who wage it hate -the men they fight. It is the cause they hate. There I sat day after -day, full of hope and eagerness and--now that my conceit was somewhat -knocked out of me--with not only abundant ability, but the stern resolve -to transact any business which might be entrusted to me, and just -rotted to despair. No wonder men go to the devil, and enlist to fight -the whole establishment of organized society. I almost went. When I look -back at it now it seems like a miracle that I did not go wholly. Pride -saved me. It survived long after hope died. Sometimes, I even thought of -the pistol I had in my trunk. But I had made up my mind to live and win. -There, too, came in Pride. I could not bear to think of Lilian Poole and -Peck. How she would congratulate herself and how Peck would gloat! No, I -could not give him that satisfaction. Peck did me a good turn there. A -strong enmity, well based, is not always without good results; but Peck -should not smear my memory with pretended pity. So I starved, but held -on. When I got so that I could endure it no longer, I used to go out and -walk up and down the streets--sometimes the fashionable streets--and -look at the handsome residences and the fine carriages and automobiles -flashing by and the handsomely dressed people passing, and recall that I -was as good as they--in my heart, I thought, better. Some of them with -kind faces I used to fancy my friends; but that they did not know I was -in town. This conceit helped me. And at times I used to fancy that I -lived in a particular house, and owned a particular team: thus living -for a brief moment like a child in "making pictures." A house is -sometimes personal and well-nigh human to me. It appears to have -qualities almost human and to express them on its face: kindness, -hostility, arrogance, breadth or narrowness, and brutal selfishness are -often graven on its front. I have often felt that I could tell from the -outside of a house the characteristics of the people within. Arrogance, -ignorance, want of tact, pretentiousness and display, spoke from every -massy doorway and gaudy decoration with a loudness which would have -shocked a savage. This being so, what characters some of the wealthy -people of our cities must have! It must be one of the compensations of -the poor that the houses of the rich are often so hideous and -unhome-like. - -The mansion I selected finally as mine was a light stone mansion, simple -in its style, but charming in its proportions; not one of the largest, -but certainly one of the prettiest in the whole city. Amid a waste of -splendid vulgarity it was almost perfect in its harmonious architectural -design and lines, and had a sunny, homelike look. It stood in an ample -lot with sun and air all around it, and grass and flowers about it. Our -fathers used to say, "seated," which has a more established and restful -sound. It looked a home of refinement and ease. Its stable was set back -some distance behind and a little to one side, so that I could see that -it was of the same stone with the mansion and just enough of the same -general style to indicate that it belonged to the mansion, and the teams -that came out of it were the nattiest and daintiest in the city. - -One day as I was walking, trying to divert myself from my loneliness, a -brougham rolled out of this stable with a pair of airy, prancing bays, -shining like satin, and drew up to the carriage-block a little before -me, and a young lady came out of the house as I passed by. My heart gave -a leap, for it was the girl I had seen on the train. I took her in, -rather than scanned her as she tripped down the stone steps, and she -glanced at me for a second as if she thought I might be an acquaintance. -She made as she stood there one of the loveliest pictures I had ever -laid eyes on: her trim, slim figure, exquisitely dressed, in the -quietest way; soft, living brown hair, brushed back from a white, broad -forehead; beautiful, speaking eyes under nearly straight brows; and a -mouth neither too big for beauty nor too small for character; all set -off by a big black hat with rich plumes that made a background for what -I thought the loveliest face I had ever seen. - -Something pleasant had evidently just happened within; for she came out -of the door smiling, and I observed at the same moment her eyes and her -dimples. I wondered that people did not always smile: that smile -suddenly lit up everything for me. I forgot my loneliness, my want of -success, myself. Her hands were full of parcels as she came down the -steps, and just as I passed the wind lifted the paper from one--a bunch -of flowers, and in trying to recover it she dropped another and it -rolled down to my feet. I picked it up and handed it to her. It was a -ball, one of those big, squashy, rubber balls with painted rings around -it, that are given to small children because they cannot do anything -with them. She thanked me sweetly and was turning to her carriage, when -under a sudden impulse, I stepped to the door, just as I should have -done at home, and, lifting my hat, said, "I beg your pardon, but mayn't -I open your door for you?" - -She bowed, looking, perhaps, just the least shade surprised. But, having -handed her in, I was afraid of embarrassing her, and was backing away -and passing on when she thanked me again very graciously. Again I lifted -my hat and again got a look into her deep eyes. As the carriage rolled -off, she was leaning back in it, and I felt her eyes upon me from under -the shade of that big hat with a pleasant look, but I had assumed an -unconscious air, and even stopped and picked up, as though carelessly, a -couple of violets she had dropped as she crossed the sidewalk; and after -a sniff of their fragrance, dropped them into my pocket-book, because -they reminded me of the past and because I hated to see them lie on the -hard pavement to be crushed by passing feet. The book was empty enough -otherwise, but somehow I did not mind it so much after the violets were -there. - -"Who lives in that house?" I asked of an officer. - -"Mr. Leigh, the banker and big west-side street-car man--runs all the -lines out that way--all the Argand estate don't run," he added. He waved -his arm to include a circle that might take in half the town or half the -world. "The big house in the middle of the block is Mrs. Argand's--the -great Philanthropist, you know? Everybody knows her." I did not, but I -did not care; I knew all I wanted to know--I knew who Miss Leigh was. I -reflected with some concern that this was the name of the vice-president -of the Railway whom I had attacked through Kalender and of the man to -whom Mr. Poole's perfunctory letter was addressed. I went back to my -office in better spirits, and, having no brief to work on, even wrote a -poem about the violets--about her leaving a track of violets behind her. - -I was drawn to that street a number of times afterward, but I saw her no -more. - -I don't believe that love often comes at first sight; but that it may -come thus, or at least, at second sight, I have my own case to prove. It -may be that my empty heart, bruised and lonely in that great city, was -waiting with open door for any guest bold enough to walk in and claim -possession. It may be that that young lady with her pleasant smile, her -high-bred face and kindly air, crossing my path in that -stranger-thronged wilderness, was led by Providence; it may be that her -grace and charm were those I had pictured long in the Heavenward dreams -of youth and but now found. However it was, I went home in love with an -ideal whose outward semblance was the girl with the children's -toys--truly in love with her. And the vision of Lilian Poole never came -to me again in any guise that could discomfort me. From this time the -vision that haunted me and led me on was of a sweet-eyed girl who -dimpled as she smiled and dropped her violets. The picture of Lilian -Poole, standing by the marble mantel in her plush-upholstered parlor, -adjusting her bracelet so as to set off her not too small wrist, while -I faced my fate, flitted before my mind, but she was a ghost to me, and -my heart warmed as I thought of the lady of the violets and the -children's toys. - - - - -XVI - -THE SHADOW OF SHAM - - -I soon changed back to my first boarding-house. After my two weeks were -out for which I had prepaid, I went to my landlady, Mrs. Starling, a -tall, thin woman with high cheek bones, a cold eye and a close mouth, -and told her frankly I could not pay any more in advance, and that, -though I would certainly pay her within a short time, it might not be -convenient for me to pay her by the week, and I left it with her whether -she would keep me on these terms. She did not hesitate a second. Her -first duty was to herself and family, she said, by which she meant her -daughter, "Miss Starling," as she always spoke of her, but whom the -irreverent portion of the boarders whom I associated with always spoke -of as "Birdy," a young woman who dressed much in yellow, perhaps because -it matched her blondined hair, played vehemently on the piano, and -entertained the young men who boarded there. "Besides, she wanted the -room for a dressing-room for a gentleman who wished a whole suite," she -added, with what I thought a little undue stress on the word -"gentleman," as the "gentleman" in question was the person who had -borrowed my money from me and never returned it: Count Pushkin, who -occupied the big room next my little one. He had, as I learned, cut -quite a dash in town for a while, living at one of the most fashionable -hotels, and driving a cart and tandem, and paying assiduous attention to -a young heiress in the city, daughter of a manufacturer and street-car -magnate; but latterly he had taken a room at Mrs. Starling's, "in -order," he gave out, "that he might be quiet for a time," as a duke or -duchess or something--I am not sure he did not say a king--who was his -relative, had died in Europe. He had taken the greater part of the -boarding-house by storm, for he was a tall, showy-looking fellow, and -would have been handsome but for a hard and shifty eye. And I found -myself in a pitiful minority in my aversion to him, which, however, -after a while, gained some recruits among the young men, one of them, my -young reporter, Kalender, who had moved there from Mrs. Kale's. - -The boarding-house keeper's daughter was desperately in love with -Pushkin, and, with her mother's able assistance, was making a dead set -for him, which partiality the count was using for what it was worth, -hardly attempting meantime to disguise his amusement at them. He sang -enough to be passable, though his voice was, like his eye, hard and -cold; and he used to sing duets with Miss Starling: the method by which, -according to a vivacious young Jew, named Isadore Ringarten, who lived -in the house, he paid his board. I never knew how he acquired his -information, but he was positive. - -"I vish," said Isadore, "I could pay my board in vind--vith a little -song. Now, I can sing so the Count he would give me all he is vorth to -sing so like I sing; but I am not a count--efen on this side." - -However this was, Pushkin paid the girl enough attention to turn the -poor thing's head, and made her treat harshly my reporter, Kalender, who -was deeply in love with her, and spent all his salary on her for -flowers, and lavished theatre tickets on her. - -The evening before I left I had to call Pushkin down, who had been -drinking a little, and I must say, when I called, he came promptly. It -was after dinner in "the smoking room," as the apartment was called, and -he began to ridicule poor Victoria cruelly, saying she had told him her -hair was yellow like that of the girls of his own country, and he had -told her, no, that hers was natural, while theirs was always dyed, and -she swallowed it. - -"She is in loaf mit me. She swallow whatefer I gif her--" he laughed. -The others laughed, too. But I did not. I thought of Lilian Poole and -Peck. Perhaps, I was thinking of my money, and I know I thought of the -account of the ball which took place the day I arrived. I told him what -I thought of his ridiculing a girl he flattered so to her face. He -turned on me, his eyes snapping, his face flushed, but his manner cool -and his voice level. - -"Ha-ah! Are you in loaf mit her, too, like poor Kalender, who spent all -hees moneys on her, and what she laugh at to make me amused? I gif her -to you, den. I too not want her--I haf had her, you can take her." - -He made a gesture as if tossing something contemptuously into my arms, -and put his cigarette back in his teeth and drew a long breath. There -were none but men present, and some of them had stopped laughing and -were looking grave. - -"No, I am not in love with her," I said quietly, standing up. "I only -will not allow you to speak so of any lady in my presence--that is all." -I was thinking of a girl who lived in a sunny house, and had once taken -a lot of little dirty-faced children to feed them, and once had smiled -into my eyes. I only knew her name, but her violets were in my pocket -near my heart. I was perfectly calm in my manner and my face had -whitened, and he mistook it, for he blurted out: - -"Oh! I vill nod? I vill nod speaks in your presence. You vill gif me one -little lesson? You who know te vorl so vell. I tank you, Millot!" - -He bowed low before me, spreading out his arms, and some of the others -tittered. It encouraged him and he straightened up and stepped in front -of me. - -"I vill tell you vat I vill does," he proceeded. "I vill say vat I tam -please before you about anybodies." He paused and cast about for -something which would prove his boast. "Tere is nod a woman in tis town -or in America, py tam! that vill nod gif herself to fon title--to me if -I hax her, and say, 'tank you, Count.' Ha, ah?" He bent his body forward -and stuck his face almost into mine with a gesture as insulting as he -could make it, and as I stepped back a pace to get a firm stand, he -stuck out his tongue and wagged his head in derision. The next second he -had turned almost a somersault. I had taken boxing lessons since -Wolffert thrashed me. I saw the bottom of his boots. He was at precisely -the right distance for me and I caught him fairly in the mouth. His head -struck the floor and he lay so still that for a few moments I thought I -had killed him. But after a little he came to and began to rise. - -"Get up," I said, "and apologize to these gentlemen and to me." I caught -him and dragged him to his feet and faced him around. - -"You haf insulted me. I vill see about tis," he spluttered, turning -away. But I caught him with a grip on his shoulder and steadied him. The -others were all on my side now; but I did not see them, I saw only him. - -"Apologize, or I will fling you out of the window." He apologized. - -The affair passed. The Count explained his bruises by some story that he -had been run down by a bicycle, to which I learned he afterward added a -little fiction about having stopped a runaway and having saved some one. -But I had left before this little touch occurred to him. Mrs. Starling -must have had some idea of the collision, though not of the original -cause; for she was very decided in the expression of her wishes to have -possession of "the dressing room" that night for the "gentleman," and I -yielded possession. - -The curious thing about it was that one reason I could not pay Mrs. -Starling again in advance was that he still had my money which he had -borrowed the day after I had arrived. - -From Mrs. Starling's I went back to my old boarding-house, kept by Mrs. -Kale, as a much cheaper one, in a much poorer neighborhood, where I was -not asked to pay in advance, but paid at the end of the month by pawning -my scarf-pins and shirt studs, and gradually everything else I had. - -I was brought up to go to church, my people having all been earnest -Christians and devoted church people; but in my college years I had gone -through the usual conceited phase of callow agnosticism; and partly from -this intellectual juvenile disease and partly from self-indulgence, I -had allowed the habit to drop into desuetude, and later, during my first -years at the bar, I had been gradually dropping it altogether. My -conscience, however, was never quite easy about it. My mother used to -say that the promise as to training up a child in the way he should go -was not to be fulfilled in youth, but in age, and as my years advanced, -I began to find that the training of childhood counted for more and -more. Lilian Poole, however, had no more religion than a cat. She wished -to be comfortable and to follow the general habit of the feline class to -which she belonged. She went to the Episcopal Church because it was -fashionable, and whenever she had half an excuse she stayed away from -church unless it were on a new-bonnet Sunday, like Easter or some such -an occasion, when she made up by the lowness of her genuflexions and the -apparent devoutness of her demeanor for all omissions. I must confess -that I was very easily influenced by her at that time, and was quite as -ready to absent myself from church as she was, though I should have had -a much deeper feeling for her if she had not violated what I esteemed a -canon of life, that women, at least, should profess religion, and if she -had not pretended to have questionings herself as to matters as far -beyond her intellect as the Copernican system or Kepler's laws. I -remember quoting to her once Dr. Johnson's reply to Boswell, when the -latter asked if Poole, the actor, were not an atheist: "Yes, sir, as a -dog is an atheist; he has not thought on the matter at all." - -"Dr. Samuel Johnson?" she asked. "You mean the one who wrote the -Dictionary?" and I saw that she was so pleased with her literary -knowledge in knowing his name that she never gave a thought to the -matter that we were discussing, so let it drop. - -As David said, that in his trouble he called upon the Lord, so now, in -my solitude and poverty, I began once more to think on serious things, -and when Sunday came I would dress up and go to church, partly in -obedience to the feeling I speak of, and partly to be associated with -people well dressed and good mannered, or passably so. The church I -selected was a large stone edifice, St. ----'s, with a gilded cross on -its somewhat stumpy spire, toward which I saw a richly clad congregation -wending their way Sunday morning. - -The rector, as was stated in gilded letters on a large sign, was the -Rev. Dr. Bartholomew Capon. I cannot say that the congregation were -especially refined looking or particularly cordial; in fact, they were -very far from cordial, and the solemn verger to whom I spoke, after -turning a deaf ear to my request for a seat, took occasion, as soon as -he had bowed and scraped a richly dressed, stout lady up the aisle, to -look me over on the sly, not omitting my shoes, before he allowed me to -take a seat in one of the rear pews. - -The preacher--"The Rector," as he spoke of himself in the notices, when -he occasionally waived the rather frequent first personal pronoun--was a -middle-aged gentleman with a florid complexion, a sonorous voice, a -comfortable round person, and fair hands of which he was far from -ashamed; for he had what, but for my reverence for the cloth, I should -call a trick of using his hand with a voluminous, fine cambric -handkerchief held loosely in it. His face was self-contained rather than -strong, and handsome rather than pleasing. He was so good-looking that -it set me on reflecting what relation looks bear to the rectorship of -large and fashionable churches; for, as I recalled it, nearly all the -rectors of such churches were men of looks, and it came to me that when -Sir Roger de Coverley requested his old college friend to send him down -a chaplain, he desired him to find out a man rather of plain sense than -much learning, of a good aspect, a clear voice, a sociable temper, and, -if possible, a man who knew something of backgammon. His sermon was -altogether a secondary consideration, for he could always read one of -the Bishop of St. Asaph's or Dr. South's or Dr. Tillotson's. Possibly, -it is something of the same feeling that subordinates the sermons to the -looks of rectors of fashionable churches. However, I did not have long -to reflect on that idea, for my thoughts were given a new and -permanently different, not to say pleasanter, direction, by the sudden -appearance of a trim figure, clad in a gray suit and large gray hat, -which, as it moved up the aisle, quite eclipsed for me "the priest and -all the people." I was struck, first, by the easy grace with which the -young girl moved. But, before she had turned into her pew and I caught -sight of her face under the large hat which had hidden it, I knew it was -my young lady, Miss Leigh, whom I had helped up on the train and -afterward into her carriage. It is not too much to say that the Rev. Dr. -Capon secured that moment a new permanent member of his congregation. -Before the service was over, however, I had been solemnized by her -simple and unaffected devoutness, and when, in one of the chants, I -caught a clear liquid note perfectly sweet and birdlike, I felt as -though I had made a new and charming discovery. - -The rector gave a number of notices from which I felt the church must be -one of the great forces of the city for work among the poor, yet, when I -glanced around, I could not see a poor person in the pews except myself -and two old ladies in rusty black, who had been seated near the door. I -was struck by the interest shown in the notices by my young lady of the -large hat, from whose shapely little head with its well-coiled brown -hair my eyes did not long stray. - -"I have," he said, "in addition to the notable work already mentioned, -carried on, through my assistant in charge, the work of St. Andrew's -chapel with gratifying success. This work has reached, and I am glad to -be able to say, is reaching more than ever before, the great ignorant -class that swarms in our midst, and exhibits a tendency to unrest that -is most disturbing. This is the class which causes most of the -uneasiness felt in the minds of the thoughtful." - -I observed that he did not mention the name of "the assistant in -charge," and my sympathy rather went out to the nameless priest, doing -his work without the reward of even being mentioned. - -As to the sermon, I can only say that it was twenty minutes long, and -appeared aimed exclusively at the sins of Esau (whom I had always -esteemed a quite decent sort of fellow), rather than at those of the -doctor's congregation, whom he appeared to have a higher opinion of than -of the Patriarchs. I recall the text: "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, -and all these things shall be added unto you." He made it very plain -that to be pious and prudent was the best way to secure wealth. He held -up a worldly motive and guaranteed a worldly reward. Such a sermon as -that would have eased the most uneasy conscience in Christendom. - -When the congregation came out I dawdled in the aisle until my young -lady passed, when I feasted my eyes on her face and finely curved cheek, -straight nose, and soft eyes veiled under their long lashes. My two old -ladies in black were waiting in the end of a pew and, as I observed by -their smiles when she approached, waiting like myself to see her. I had -already recognized them as the old ladies of the bundles, whom I had -once helped on the street. How I envied them the smile and cordial -greeting they received in return! I made the observation then, which I -have often had confirmed since, that tenderness to the aged, like that -to the very young, is the mark of a gentle nature. - -I heard them say, "We know who has done the work out at the Chapel," and -she replied, "Oh! no, you must not think that. My poor work has been -nothing. Your friend has done it all, and I think that the Doctor ought -to have said so," to which they assented warmly, and I did the same, -though I did not know their friend's name. - -As I had nowhere to go in particular, I strolled slowly up the street, -and then walked back again. And as I neared the church, I met the rector -who had just left his robing-room. He was a fine-looking man on the -street as well as in the chancel, and I was prompted to speak to him, -and say that I had just heard him preach. He was, however, too impatient -at my accosting him and so manifestly suspicious that I quickly -regretted my impulse. His, "Well, what is it?" was so prompt on his lips -and his suspicion of me was so clear in his cold, bluish eyes, that I -drew myself up and replied: "Oh! nothing. I was only going to say that I -had just heard you preach--that's all." - -"Oh! Ah! Well, I'm much obliged. I'm very glad if I've helped you." He -pulled out his watch. - -"Helped me! You haven't," I said dryly and turned away. - -A quarter of an hour later, as I strolled along the street lonely and -forlorn, I saw him hurrying up the steps of the large house which had -been pointed out to me as Mrs. Argand's, the great philanthropist. - - - - -XVII - -THE GULF - - -As I saw more of the city, its vastness, its might and its inhumanity -grew on me. It was a world in itself, a world constructed on lines as -different from that in which I had lived as if it had been Mars; a city -as different from the smaller cities I had known as if it had been -Babylon or Nineveh. The contrasts were as great as they could have been -in the capitals Sardanapalus built--structures so vast that they must -have dwarfed the towers of Sardis--so rich and splendid that the Hanging -Gardens of Babylon must have been outshone--reared their stupendous bulk -into the smoky air and cast into perpetual shade all that lay near them. -Hard beside their towering mass lay a region filled with the wretched -tenements of the poor, and a little further off the houses of the -well-to-do. And there was not a greater contrast between the vastness of -the one and the pitiful squalor of the other than between the life of -the owners of the former and that of the denizens of the closely packed -tenements which dwindled in their shadow. Splendor and squalor were -divided often only by a brick wall. The roar of the tide that swept -through the teeming streets drowned the cry of wretchedness, and only -the wretched knew how loud it was. I had never seen such wealth, and I -had never dreamed of such poverty. - -The vulgar make the parade; the refined pass so quietly as scarcely to -be observed. The vulgarity of the display of riches began to oppress me. -I discovered later the great store of refinement, goodness and sweetness -that was hidden in the homes alike of an element of the wealthy, the -merely well-to-do and the poor. But for a time it was all eclipsed by -the glare of the vulgar and irresponsible rich. Arrogance, discontent, -hardness, vulgarity, were stamped in many faces, and spoke in every -movement of many of those I saw, even of the most richly dressed. - -I think it was more the vulgarity and insolence of those I saw decked in -the regalia of wealth than anything else--than even my own poverty--that -changed my views and turned me for a time from my easy indifference as -to social conditions toward a recognition that those conditions are -ridiculously antiquated, a bent I have never quite got over, though I -was later drawn back to a more conservative point of view than, under -the hatred of sham and the spur of want, I was driven to occupy for some -time. They have no traditions and no ideals. They know no standard but -wealth, and possess no ability to display it but through parade. They -feel it necessary to prove their novel position by continual assertion. -They think that wealth has exempted them from decency. They mistake -civility for servility and rudeness for gentility. Their best effort is -only a counterfeit, a poor imitation of what they imagine to be the -manners of the upper class abroad whose indifferent manners they ape. - -"Misery loves company," and when I wanted comfort I left the section of -splendor and display, of riotous extravagance and glittering wealth, and -went to those poorer than myself; a practice I can commend from -experience. - -When I got so desperate that I could not stand it any longer, and was -afraid I might fall down dead or do myself violence, I used to turn my -steps in another direction and walk through the poorer part of the -city--not the worst part--where there was nothing but dirt and squalor -and filth: that sickened me, and I had never had much sympathy with the -class that lived there. They always appeared contented enough with their -surroundings and rather to enjoy themselves in their own way. And not -the successful workman's quarter. There was an assurance and assumption -there that offended me. The assumption bred of sudden success, no matter -in what class, is everywhere equally vulgar after its kind. It was the -part of the city where the people were respectable, but where they could -just hold on with all their struggling and striving, that I used to go -into; the part where there were patches, not rags; and sometimes an -effort to keep down the dirt, and where a bit of a plant in a little pot -or a little cheap ornament in a window told of the spark of sentiment -that could yet live amid the poverty and hardness about it. They always -place them in the windows, partly, no doubt, to get the light, and -partly, perhaps, to show passers-by that there is something within -better than might be looked for next door. These people on their -holidays always make toward the open country; they try to get away from -their robuster, more successful brothers, and get back near to -Nature--the old mother that cares nothing for success; and repays only -according to the love her children bear her. Here I often walked as I -grew more wretched. - -In this section I used to see people with whom I felt in touch: a man -with the badgered look in his eye that made me know that he was at bay; -or a woman with that resigned air which hopeless struggling stamps in -the face and binds on the shoulders. These drew me nearer to my kind, -and made me feel that there were others in a harder case than I, and -gave me a desire to help them. I came to know some of them by sight and -the houses in which they lived, and sometimes I spoke to them and -exchanged a word or two, and the effort to take a cheerful view with -them helped me, and sent me back to my little lonely cubby-hole cheered -and in some sort comforted and resolute to hold out a little longer. But -it was hungry work. - -This element composed the great body of the population, but deep down -below them lay a yet lower element weltering in an infinite and hopeless -misery to which even the poor class I speak of were alien. They were -generically spoken of at times as the criminal classes. They were not -this at all, though among them were many criminals--driven to crime by -necessity--because there was no means for them to subsist, no possible -means nor hope outside of their casual and occasional violation of the -statute law by which they secure enough for empty bellies and freezing -bodies merely to keep alive. They live among and on the poor, and one of -the bitterest trials of poverty is the continual presence and preying of -these parasites who like other vermin pursue them and cannot be kept -off. Their only common crime is desperate, infinite poverty--poverty -beyond hope, for they have nothing--not work, nor the hope of work--not -even the power to work, if it should be offered them. As the well-to-do -look with anxiety to the loss of their property and the consequent -sinking to some lower plane of moderate poverty, so the poor look with -shuddering or, at last, with despair to sinking into the slough of this -hopeless state for which there is no name, because none has been devised -adequate to describe its desperate misery. Often but a block, or even -but a wall divides the reeking slum where they creep and fester and rot, -from the broad, well-lighted, smooth-paved avenue where irresponsible -wealth goes clattering by in its wild orgy of extravagance and reckless -mirth. The eye of the mangy and starving wolf from his thicket gleams -dully at the glittering pageant of heartless irresponsibility and waste. -Should the pack ever find a leader bold enough to spring, what will be -the end? - -At present they are hungry enough, but they have not organized; they are -not yet a hunting pack, but only scattered bands, slinking about -hungrily, fighting and preying on each other, the larger bands with the -bolder leaders driving off the weaker and unorganized. But let them all -organize once and the end will not be yet. - -Day after day I saw my last few dollars leak away, and, though I -replenished my thin purse at times by pawning everything pawnable I had, -yet this, too, gradually oozed away. Fortunately I had plenty of -clothes, which I had bought in my flush days, so I could still make a -respectable appearance. - -As money got low all sorts of schemes used to present themselves to me -to replenish my pocket. One was to go out as a laborer on the streets, -clean bricks, or do anything. I was not lazy. I would have walked around -the world for a case. I do not think I was ashamed of it, for I knew it -was respectable, but I was afraid some one I knew might pass by; I was -afraid that Pushkin or Mrs. Starling might see me, and--yes, that that -young girl from the colonial house might recognize me. I had often -thought of her violets since I had dropped them into my pocket-book. And -now, when this idea came to me, I took them out and looked at them. They -still retained a faint fragrance. What would be the result if she should -pass by and see me cleaning bricks--me a laborer, and Pushkin--the -thoughts came together--should see me? I would win on my own line if it -took me all my life. - -The idea of Pushkin suggested another plan. Why not gamble? Gambling was -gentlemanly--at least, gentlemen gambled. But did they play for a -living? I had gambled a little myself in the past; played poker, and, -like most men, prided myself on my game, though I generally lost in the -long run; and when I was making good resolutions after my failure, I had -made up my mind never to play again anywhere. And I had always held to -the opinion that, as soon as a man played for his living, he crossed the -line and ceased to be a gentleman. Now, however, it began to appear to -me as if this were the only plan by which I could make anything, and as -if I should have a good excuse for breaking my resolution. I resisted -the temptation for some time; but one night, when I had pawned nearly -everything and had only three or four dollars left, I went out, and -after a long but half-hearted battle gave up, as such are always lost, -and turned into a street across an alley from my office where I knew -there was a gambling place over a saloon kept by one Mick Raffity. I -went boldly up the stairs. Even as I mounted them I felt a sort of -exhilaration. I stopped at the door and my old resolution not to play -again stirred and struggled a little. I caught it, however, with a sort -of grip almost physical, and gave it a shake till it was quiet. I knew I -should win. The blaze of light within cheered me, and, without -hesitating an instant, I walked across the room to where a crowd stood -watching the play of some one seated at a table. It was a large and -richly decorated room, with a few rather daring pictures on the walls -and much gilding about the ceiling. The hot air, heavy with tobacco -smoke and fumes of one kind and another, met me in a blast as I entered, -and involuntarily I thought of a sweat-shop I had once seen in my -earlier days. But the sensation passed and left me warm and exhilarated. -As I passed along, a man looked at me and half nodded. I knew he was the -proprietor. I made my way in and caught the dealer's expressionless -eye, and taking out a note as carelessly as if my pockets were stuffed -with them, I glanced over the board to select my bet. At one end of the -table sat the large, heavy-browed, middle-aged man I had run into one -night on the stairway leading from the alley to the building where I had -my office. He was somewhat tipsy and evidently in bad luck; for he was -heated and was betting wildly. Near by sat a big, sour-looking fellow, -flashily dressed, whom I recognized as having been one of my -fellow-travellers on the side-tracked train, the one who had talked to -the trainmen of their wrongs. He still wore his paste diamonds, his silk -hat and patent-leather shoes. But I took little notice of these. -Casually, as I dropped my note, my eye fell on the player at the middle -of the table. He was surrounded by stacks of chips. As I looked he raked -in a new pile; at least a hundred dollars, and he never changed a -particle. He was calmer than the dealer before him. He was in evening -dress and success had given him quite an air. I caught up my note -without knowing it and fell back behind a group of young men who had -just come up. Curious things happen sometimes. I found my note doubled -up in my hand when I had got out of doors, a quarter of an hour later. -All I remember is my revulsion at seeing that gambler sitting there -raking in money so calmly, with my money for his stake in his pocket, -and I turned out for him: an adventurer who said all American women were -at his bidding. It recalled to me the girl I had seen on the train and -had handed, later, into her carriage, and the good resolutions I had -formed. And it strung me up like wine. I felt that I was a coward to -have come there and as bad as Pushkin. - -Just as I turned to leave the place a party of young fellows entered the -room. They had come from a dinner at Mr. Leigh's, as I understood from -their talk, and were "going on" to a dance unless the luck should run to -suit them. They were in high spirits, "Mr. Leigh's champagne" having -done its work, and they were evidently habitués of the place, and good -patrons, I judged, from the obsequious respect paid them by the -attendants. The leader of them was a large, rather good-looking young -fellow, but with marks of dissipation on a face without a line of -refinement in it. The others all seemed to be his followers. They -greeted familiarly and by name the eager attendants who rushed forward -to take their coats, and the leader asked them casually who was in -to-night. - -"The Count's here, I think, sir," said one whom they called Billy. - -"The Count! Coll McSheen's staked him again," said the young leader. -"And he swore to me he'd never let him have another cent, with oaths -enough to damn him deeper than he will be damned anyhow. Come on, I'll -skin him clean." - -I lingered for a moment to see him "skin" Pushkin. - -They sauntered up to the table and, after a greeting to the Count, began -to toss bills on the board as though they grew on trees. The least of -them would have kept me going for months. I had never seen money -handled so before and it staggered me. - -"Who is that young man?" I asked of a man near me, nodding toward the -leader. "He must be pretty rich." - -"Rich! You bet. He's Jim Canter. Got all his daddy's money and going to -get all the Argand and Leigh piles some day. He'll need it, too," added -my informant. - -"I should think so." I recalled his name in connection with Miss Leigh's -name in the account of the ball, and I was feeling a little bitter. - -"Why, he'd just as lief try to corner water as to bet a hundred dollar -bill on a card. This is just play to him. He'd give all he'd win -to-night to any one of his women." - -"His women?" - -"Yes. He's one of the real upper class." - -"The upper class!" So this was the idea of the upper class held by this -man and his kind! My soul revolted at the thought of this man standing -as the type of our upper class, and I was turning away when Pushkin -shoved back his chair. As I turned he looked up and I saw him start, -though I did not catch his glance. The dealer saw him, too, and as he -looked at me I caught his eye. He motioned to me, but I took no notice. -As I walked out the man near the door spoke to me. - -"There's supper in the next room." - -"Thank you. I don't want it." - -"Come in again. Better luck to-morrow." - -"For you, I hope," I said, and I saw his mystification. - -I had of late been having an uncomfortable thought which was beginning -to worry me. The idea of doing away with myself had suggested itself to -me from time to time. I do not mean that I ever thought I should really -do it; for when I reflected seriously, I knew I should not. In the first -place, I was afraid; and in the next place, I never gave up the belief -that I should some day achieve success. When I analyzed my feelings I -found that the true name for my unhappiness was egotism. But the idea -would come up to me and now began to pester me. I had a pistol which I -could never bring myself to pawn, though nearly everything else was -pledged. I put the pistol away; but this did not help matters; it looked -like cowardice. So that evening I had taken the pistol out and put it -into my pocket when I went into the street. If I could only catch some -burglar breaking into a bank, or some ruffian beating a woman, or some -scoundrel committing any crime, it would attract attention, and I might -get work. I often used to think thus, but nothing ever happened, and I -knew nothing would happen that evening when I walked out of the gambling -house. So presently the pistol began to be in my way, and my mind went -to working again on the ease with which I could go to my office and lock -myself in. Still I kept on, and presently I found myself near the river, -a black stream that I had often thought of as the Styx. It was as black -and silent now, as it slipped on in the darkness, as the River of -Death. - -I was sauntering along, chewing the cud of fancy, wholly bitter--and -sinking lower and lower every step in the slough of despond, working -over what would come if I should suddenly chuck up the whole business -and get out of life--pondering how I should destroy all marks by which -there could be any possibility of identification, when the current of my -thoughts, if that moody train of dismal reflection could be dignified -with such a name, was turned aside by a small incident. As I wandered on -in the darkness, the figure of a woman standing--a shadow in the -shadow--at a corner of an alley arrested my attention. Even in the gloom -the attitude of dejection was such as to strike me, and I saw or felt, I -know not which, that her eyes were on me, and that in some dim, distant -way they contained an appeal. I saw that she was young, and in the dusk -the oval outline of a face that might have both refinement and beauty -challenged my attention. Was she a beggar or only an unhappy outcast, -waiting in the darkness for the sad reward which evil chance might fling -to her wretchedness? I put my hand in my pocket, thinking that she might -beg of me, and I would give her a small portion of my slender store, but -she said nothing and I passed on. After a little, however, still -thinking of her dejected air and with a sudden sympathy for her -wretchedness, I turned back. She was still standing where I left her. I -passed slowly by her, but she said nothing, though I felt again that her -eyes were on me. Then my curiosity or possibly, I may say, my interest, -being aroused, I turned again and walked by her. - -"Why so sad to-night?" I said, with words which might have appeared -flippant, but in a tone which she instantly recognized for sympathy. She -turned half away and said nothing and I stood silent watching her, for -her face must once have been almost beautiful, though it was now sadly -marred, and an ugly scar across her eye and cheek, as if it might have -come from the slash of a razor, made that side drawn and distorted. - -"Do you want money?" - -She slowly shook her head without looking at me. - -"What is it, then? Maybe, I can help you?" - -She turned slowly and looked at me with such indescribable hopelessness -in her face that my heart went out to her. - -"No, I'm past help now." - -"Oh, no, you're not." My spirits rose with the words, and I felt -suddenly as if I had risen out of the slough which had been engulfing -me, and as though I had gotten my feet on a firm place where I could -reach out a hand to help this despairing and sinking sister. - -"Yes, past help now." - -"Come and walk with me." And as she did not stir, I took her hand and -drew it through my arm and gently led her forward along the street. I -had a strange feeling as I walked along. I somehow felt as though I had -escaped from something which had been dragging me down. It was a strange -walk and a strange and tragic story that she told me--of having left her -home in the country, inspired by the desire to do something and be -something more than she was, a simple farmer's daughter in another -State, with some little education such as the country schools could -give; of having secured a position in a big shop where, for a small sum, -she worked all day and learned to see and love fine clothes and -beautiful things; of having fallen in with one or two gay companions in -this and other shops who wore the fine clothes and had the beautiful -things she admired; of having been put forward because she was pretty -and polite; and then of having met a young man, well dressed and with -fine manners; of having fallen in love with him and of having accepted -his attentions and his gifts; and then, of having been led astray by -him; and then--of such an act of base betrayal as, had I not had it -substantiated afterward in every horrid detail, I should never have -believed. I had known something of the wickedness of men and the evil of -an uncontrolled life in the city, where the vilest passions of the heart -are given play, but I had never dreamed of anything so revolting as the -story this girl told me that night. She had been deliberately and with -malice aforethought lured not only to her destruction but to a life of -slavery so vile as to be unbelievable. The man who had secured her heart -used his power over her to seize and sell her into a slavery for which -there is no name which could be used on the printed page. Here, stricken -by the horror of her situation, she had attempted to escape from her -captors, but had been bodily beaten into submission. Then she had made a -wild dash for liberty and had been seized and slashed with a knife until -she fell under her wounds and her life was in imminent danger. - -From this time she gave up and became the slave of the woman of the -house: "Smooth Ally," she said they called her; but she would not give -me her name or her address. She would have her killed, she feared, if -she did so. Here she gradually had yielded to her fate and had lived in -company with her other slaves, some willing, some as unwilling as -herself, until finally her place was needed for one more useful to her -owner, when she had been handed on from one owner to another, always -sinking in the scale lower and lower, until at last she had been turned -into the street with her choice limited only to the river or the gutter. -Long before she had finished her story I had made up my mind that life -still held for me something which I might do, however poor and useless I -knew myself to be. The only person I could think of who might help her -was Miss Leigh. How could I reach her? Could I write her of this poor -creature? She could not go back to her home, she said, for she knew that -they had heard of her life, and they were "good and Christian people." -She used to write to and hear from them, but it had been two years and -more since she had written or heard now. Still she gave me what she said -was her father's address in another State, and I told her I would find -out how they felt about her and would let her know. I gave her a part of -what I had. It was very little, and I have often wished since then that -I had had the courage to give her all. - -I was walking on with her, trying to think of some place where she might -find a shelter and be taken care of until her friends could be informed -where she was, when, in one of the streets in front of a bar-room, we -heard mingled laughter and singing and found a group of young men, -ruffians and loafers, standing on the sidewalk, laughing at the singers -who stood in the street. As we drew near, I saw that the latter were a -small group of the Salvation Army, and it appeared to me a providence. -Here were some who might help her. At the moment that we approached they -ended the dirge-like hymn they had been singing, and kneeling down in -the street one of them offered a prayer, after which a woman handed -around something like a tambourine, asking for a collection. The jeers -that she encountered might have daunted a much bolder spirit than mine, -and as each man either put in or pretended to put something in, one a -cent, another a button or a cigarette-stump, she responded, "Thank you -and God bless you." I was ashamed to make an appeal to them there for -the poor girl, so I walked with her a little further on and waited until -the blue-clad detachment came along and their tormentors retired to warm -themselves, without and within, in the saloon in front of which they had -been standing. I accosted the woman who had taken up the collection and -asked her if she could take care of a poor girl who needed help badly, -and I was struck by the kindness with which she turned and, after a -moment's glance, held out her hand to the girl. - -"Come with us," she said, "and we will take you where you will find -friends." - -Even then the young woman appeared too frightened to accept her -invitation. She clung to me and seemed to rely upon me, asking me to go -with her, but partly from shame and partly from what may possibly have -been a better motive, I told her my way led elsewhere, and, after -persuasion, she went with the Salvationists, and I walked home happier -than I had been in some time. - -I even took some steps to call public attention to the horrible story -the poor Magdalen had told me of her frightful experience, and actually -wrote it up; but when I took it to a paper--the one that had published -my first article--I was given to understand that the account was quite -incredible. The editor, a fox-faced man of middle age, with whom my -paper secured me the honor of an interview, informed me that the story -was an old one, and that they had investigated it thoroughly, and found -it without the slightest foundation. If I wanted further proof of this, -he said, he would refer me to Mr. Collis McSheen, one of the leading -lawyers in the city, who had conducted the investigation. - - - - -XVIII - -THE DRUMMER - - -I believe Mrs. Kale would have let me stay on free almost indefinitely; -for she was a kind-hearted soul, much imposed on by her boarders. But I -had been playing the gentleman there, and I could not bring myself to -come down in her esteem. I really did not know whether I should be able -to continue to pay her; so when my time was up, I moved again, to my -landlady's great surprise, and she thought me stuck up and ungrateful, -and was a little hurt over it, when, in fact, I only did not want to -cheat her, and was moving out to the poorest part of the city, to a -little house on which I had observed, one afternoon during one of my -strolls, the notice of a room for rent at a dollar a week. I think a -rose-bush carefully trained over the door decided me to take it. It gave -me a bit of home-feeling. The violet, of course, is in color and -delicacy the half-ethereal emblem of the tenderest sentiment of the -heart. "The violets all withered when my father died," sighed poor -Ophelia. And next to violets, a rose-bush, growing in the sun and dew, -has ever stood to me for the purest sentiment that the heart can hold. - -I heard shortly afterward of the engagement of Miss Lilian Poole to the -man she used to laugh at; but after a single wave of mortification that -Peck should have won where I had lost, I did not mind it. I went out to -look at the sunny house with the trees and the rose-bushes about it and -wonder how I could meet Miss Leigh. - -The room I took when I left Mrs. Kale's was only a cupboard some nine -feet by six in the little house I have mentioned; but it was spotlessly -clean, like the kind-looking, stout, blue-eyed Teuton woman who, with -skirt tucked up, came to the door when I applied for lodging, and, as -the price was nearer my figure than any other I had seen, I closed with -Mrs. Loewen, and the afternoon I left Mrs. Kale's sent my trunk over in -advance. It held the entire accumulation of my life. There was something -about the place and the woman that attracted me. As poor as the house -was, it was beyond the squalid quarter and well out in the edge of the -city, with a bit of grass before it, and there were not only plants in -the windows well cared for; but there was even a rose-bush beside the -door making a feeble attempt to clamber over it with the aid of strings -and straps carefully adjusted. - -The only question my landlady asked me was whether I was a musician, and -when I told her no, but that I was very fond of music, she appeared -satisfied. Her husband, she said, was a drummer. - -I asked if I might bring my dog, and she assented even to this. - -"Elsa was fond of animals," she said. - -When I bade good-by to Mrs. Kale and my friends at the boarding-house, I -was pleased at the real regret they showed at my leaving. Miss Pansy and -Miss Pinky came down to the drawing-room in their "best" to say -good-by; Miss Pinky with her "scratch" quite straight. And Miss Pansy -said if they ever went back home she hoped very much I would honor them -by coming to see them, while Miss Pinky, with a more practical turn, -hoped I would come and see them "there--and you may even bring your dog -with you," she added, with what I knew was a proof of real friendship. I -promised faithfully to come, for I was touched by the kindness of the -two old ladies who, like myself, had slipped from the sphere in which -they had belonged, and I was rather grim at the reflection that they had -been brought there by others, while I had no one to blame but myself--a -solemn fact I was just beginning to face. - -When I walked out of the house I was in a rather low state of mind. I -felt that it was the last day when I could make any pretension to being -a gentleman. I had been slipping down, down, and now I was very near the -bottom. So I wandered on in the street with Dix at my heels and my -pistol in my pocket. - -Just then a notice of a concert, placarded on a wall, caught my eye, and -I gave myself a shake together as an unmitigated ass, and determined -suddenly that I needed some amusement and that a better use for the -pistol would be to sell it and go to the concert. I would, at least, be -a gentleman once more, and then to-morrow I could start afresh. So I -hunted up a pawnshop and raising from the villain who kept it a few -dollars on my pistol, had a good supper and then took Dix home and went -to the symphony. As it happened, I got one of the best seats in the -house. It was a revelation to me--a revolution in my thoughts and -feelings: the great audience, gay with silks and flowers and jewels, -filling up all the space about and above me rising up to the very top of -the vast auditorium. I did not have time at first to observe them, I -only felt them; for just as I entered the Director came out and the -audience applauded. It exhilarated me like wine; I felt as if it had -been myself they were applauding. Then the music began: The "Tannhauser -Overture." It caught me up and bore me away: knighthood, and glory, and -love were all about me; the splendor of the contest; the struggle in -which a false step, a cowardly weakness might fling away the world; the -reward that awaited the victor, and the curse if he gave way, till I -found myself dazzled, amazed, and borne down by the deluge of harmonious -sound--and could do nothing but lie drifting at the mercy of the -whelming tide, and watch, half-drowned, whatever object caught my eye. -The first thing I took in was the tall old Drummer who towered above the -great bank of dark bodies with swaying arms. Still and solemn he -appeared out of the mist, and seemed like some landmark which I must -hold on to if I would not be swept away. No one appeared to pay much -attention to him, and he appeared oblivious of all but his drums. Now he -leant over them and listened to their throbbing, now he beat as if the -whole world depended on it. I held on to him and felt somehow as if he -were the one to whom the Director looked--the centre of all the music -and pomp and mystery, and I must keep him in sight. - -I don't know much of what came on the programme after that; for I was -wakened by the storm of applause which followed and during the -intermission I looked about at the audience around me. They filled the -house from floor to roof; every seat was occupied, and the boxes looked -like banks of flowers. All the faces were strange to me, though, and I -was beginning to feel lonely again, and was turning to my old Drummer, -when, sweeping the boxes, my eye fell on a girl who caught me at once. -She was sitting a little forward looking across toward the orchestra -with so serious an expression on her lovely face that I felt drawn to -her even before I took in that she was the girl I had seen on the train -and whom I had handed into her carriage. As I gazed at her this came to -me--and with it such a warm feeling about my heart as I had not had in a -long time. I looked at the men about her, one of whom was the -good-looking clergyman, Dr. Capon, and the next instant all my blood was -boiling--there, bending down over her, talking into her ear, so close to -her that she had to sit forward to escape his polluting touch, was the -gambler whom I had heard say not three weeks before that every American -girl was open to a proposal from him. I don't know really what happened -after that. I only remember wishing I had my pistol back--and being glad -that I had pawned it, not sold it; for I made up my mind anew in that -theatre that night to live and succeed, and preserve that girl from that -adventurer. When the concert was over I watched the direction they took, -and made my way through the crowd to the exit by which they would go -into the foyer. There I waited and presently they came along. She was -surrounded by a little party and was laughing heartily over something -one of them had just said, and was looking, in the rich pink wrap which -enveloped her, like a rich pink rosebud. I was gazing at her intently, -and caught her eye, and no doubt struck by my look of recognition, she -bowed. She had not really thought of me, she was still thinking of what -had been said, and it was only a casual bow to some one in a crowd who -knows you and catches your eye; but it was a bow, and it was a smiling -one, and again that warm feeling surged about my heart which had come -when I met her on the street. The next second that fellow came along. He -was taller than most of the crowd, and well dressed, was really a -handsome enough fellow but for his cold eyes and hard look. The eyes -were too bold and the chin not bold enough. He was walking beside a -large, blondish girl with shallow blue eyes, who appeared much pleased -with herself or with him, but at the moment he was bowing his adieux to -her while she was manifestly trying to hold on to him. - -"I don't think you are nice a bit," I heard her say, petulantly, as they -came up to me. "You have not taken the least notice of me to-night." - -This he evidently repudiated, for she pouted and smiled up at him. -"Well, then, I'll excuse you this time, but you needn't be running after -her. She won't----" - -I did not hear the rest. I was thinking of the girl before me. - -He was looking over the heads of the people before him, and the next -moment was elbowing his way to overtake my young lady. Close to him in -the crowd, as he came on, stood Mrs. Starling's daughter, painted, and -in her best finery, and I saw her imploring eyes fastened on him -eagerly. He glanced at her and she bowed with a gratified light dawning -in her face. I saw his face harden. He cut her dead. Poor girl! I saw -her pain and the look of disappointment as she furtively followed him -with her eyes. He pushed on after my young lady. But I was ahead of him. -Just before he reached her, I slipped in, and when he attempted to push -by I stood firm before him. - -"Beg pardon," he said, trying to put me aside to step ahead of me. I -turned my head and over my shoulder looked him in the face. - -"I beg _your_ pardon." - -"Oh!" he said. "How do? Let me by." - -"To ply your old trade?" I asked, looking into his eyes, over my -shoulder. - -"Ah!" I saw the rage come into his face and he swore some foreign oath. -He put his hand on my shoulder to push me aside; but I half turned and -looked him straight in the eyes and his grasp relaxed. He had felt my -grip once--and he knew I was not afraid of him, and thought I was a -fool. And his hand fell. - -I walked in front of him and kept him back until the party with my young -lady in it had passed quite out of the door, and then I let him by. For -that evening, at least, I had protected her. - -I walked to my lodging with a feeling of more content than I had had in -a long time. My heart had a home though I had none. It was as if the -shell in which I had been cramped so long were broken and I should at -last step out into a new world. I had a definite aim, and one higher -than I ever had had before. I was in love with that girl and I made up -my mind to win her. As I walked along through the gradually emptying -streets my old professor's words came to me. They had been verified. I -reviewed my past life and saw as clearly as if in a mirror my failures -and false steps. I had moped and sulked with the world; I had sat in my -cubby-hole of an office with all my talents as deeply buried as if I had -been under the mounds of Troy, and had expected men to unearth me as -though I had been treasure. - -It may appear to some that I exaggerated my feeling for a girl whom I -scarcely knew at all. But love is the least conventional of passions; -his victory the most unexpected and unaccountable. He may steal into the -heart like a thief or burst in like a robber. The zephyr is not so -wooing, the hurricane not so furious. Samson and Hercules lose their -strength in his presence and, shorn of their power, surrender at -discretion. Mightier than Achilles, wilier than Ulysses, he leads them -both captive, and, behind them in his train, the long line of captains -whom Petrarch has catalogued as his helpless slaves. Why should it then -be thought strange that a poor, weak, foolish, lonely young man should -fall before him at his first onset! I confess, I thought it foolish, -and yet so weak was I that I welcomed the arrow that pierced my heart, -and as I sauntered homeward through the emptying streets, I hugged to my -breast the joy that I loved once more. - -As I was on the point of ringing the door-bell there was a heavy step -behind me, and there was my old Drummer coming along. He turned in at -the little gate. And I explained that I was his new lodger and had been -to hear him play. - -"Ah! You mean to hear the orchestra?" - -"No, I don't. I meant, to hear you--I went to the concert, but I enjoyed -you most." - -"Ah!" he chuckled at the flattery, and let me in, and taking a survey of -me, invited me to come and have a bit of supper with him, which I -accepted. His wife came in and waited on us, and he told her what I had -said, with pleasure, and she laughed over it and rallied him and -accepted it, and accepted me instantly as an old friend. It gave me a -new feeling. - -A few minutes later there was another arrival. A knock on the street -door, and the mother, smiling and winking at her husband, went and let -in the newcomers: a plump, round-cheeked girl, the mingled likeness of -her two parents, with red cheeks, blue eyes, smooth flaxen hair and that -heifer-like look of shyness and content which Teuton maidens have, and -behind her a strapping looking young fellow with powerful shoulders, and -a neck cased in a net of muscles, a clear pink skin and blue eyes, and -with a roll in his gait partly the effect of his iron muscles and -partly of mere bashfulness. I was introduced and the first thing the -mother did was to repeat delightedly the compliment I had paid the -father. It had gone home, and the simple way the white teeth shone -around that little circle and the pride the whole family took in this -poor bit of praise, told their simplicity and warmed my heart. The -father and mother were evidently pleased with their daughter's young -man--for the mother constantly rallied the daughter about Otto and Otto -about her, drawing the father in with sly looks and knowing tosses of -her head, and occasionally glancing at me to see if I too took in the -situation. Although I did not yet know a word of their language, I could -understand perfectly what she was saying, and I never passed an evening -that gave me a better idea of family happiness, or greater satisfaction. -When I went up to my little room I seemed, somehow, to have gotten into -a world of reality and content: a new world. - -I awaked in a new world--the one I had reached the night before: the -land of hope and content--and when I came down-stairs I was as fresh as -a shriven soul, and I walked out into the street with Dix at my heel, as -though I owned the earth. - -The morning was as perfect as though God had just created light. The sky -was as blue and the atmosphere as clear as though the rain that had -fallen had washed away with the smoke all impurity whatsoever, and -scoured the floor of Heaven afresh. - -Elsa, with her chequered skirt turned back and a white apron about her -comely figure, was singing as she polished the outer steps, before going -to her work in a box factory, and the sun was shining upon her bare head -with its smooth hair, and upon the little rose-bush by the door, turning -the rain-drops that still hung on it into jewels. She stopped and petted -Dix, who had followed me down-stairs, and Dix, who, like his master, -loved to be petted by a pretty woman, laid back his ears and rubbed his -head against her. And, an hour later, a group of little muddy boys with -their books in their hands had been beguiled by a broad puddle on their -way to school and were wading in the mud and laughing over the spatters -and splotches they were getting on their clothes and ruddy faces. As I -watched them, one who had been squeezed out of the fun and stood on the -sidewalk looking on and laughing, suddenly seized with fear or envy -shouted that if they did "not come on, Mith Thelly would keep them in"; -and, stricken with a sudden panic, the whole flock of little sand-pipers -started off and ran as hard as their dumpy legs would carry them around -the corner. I seemed to be emancipated. - -I made my breakfast on a one-cent loaf of bread, taking a little street -which, even in that section, was a back street, to eat it in, and for -butter amused myself watching a lot of little children (among the last -of whom I recognized my muddy boys, who must have found another puddle) -lagging in at the door of a small old frame building, which I knew must -be their school, though I could not understand why it should be in such -a shanty when all the public schools I had seen were the most palatial -structures. - -I took the trouble to go by that day and look at the house on the -corner. It was as sunny as ever. And when on my way back to my office I -passed Miss Leigh, the central figure of a group of fresh looking girls, -I felt that the half shy smile of recognition which she gave me was a -shaft of light to draw my hopes to something better than I had known. -Dix was with me, and he promptly picked out his friend and received from -her a greeting which, curiously enough, raised my hopes out of all -reason. I began to feel that the dog was a link between us. - - - - -XIX - -RE-ENTER PECK - - -It happened that the building in which I had taken an office bore a -somewhat questionable reputation. I had selected it because it was -cheap, and it was too late when I discovered its character. I had no -money to move. The lawyers in it were a nondescript lot--criminal -practitioners, straw-bail givers, haunters of police courts, etc.; and -the other occupants were as bad--adventurers with wild-cat schemes, -ticket-scalpers, cranks, visionaries with fads, frauds, gamblers, and -thieves in one field or another, with doubtless a good sprinkling of -honest men among them. - -It was an old building and rather out of the line of the best growth of -the city, but in a convenient and crowded section. The lower floor was -occupied with bucket-shops and ticket-scalpers' offices, on the street; -and at the back, in a sort of annex on an alley, was a saloon known as -Mick Raffity's; the owner being a solid, double-jointed son of Erin, -with blue eyes as keen as tacks; and over this saloon was the gambling -house where I had been saved by finding Pushkin. - -On the second floor, the best offices were a suite occupied by a lawyer -named McSheen, a person of considerable distinction, after its own kind, -as was the shark created with other fish of the sea after its kind: a -lawyer of unusual shrewdness, a keen political boss, and a successful -business man. I had, as happened, rented a cubby-hole looking out on a -narrow well opposite the rear room of his suite. - -Collis McSheen was a large, brawny man, with a broad face, a big nose, -blue eyes, grizzled black hair, a tight mouth and a coarse fist. He -would have turned the scales at two hundred, and he walked with a step -as light as a sick-nurse's. The first time I ever saw him was when I ran -into him suddenly in a winding, unswept back stairway that came down on -an alley from the floor below mine and was used mainly by those in a -hurry, and I was conscious even in the dim light that he gave me a look -of great keenness. As he appeared in a hurry I gave way to him, with a -"Beg pardon" for my unintentional jostle, to which he made no reply -except a grunt. I, however, took a good look at him as he passed along -under a street lamp, with his firm yet noiseless step--as noiseless as a -cat's--and the heavy neck and bulk gave me a sense of his brute -strength, which I never lost afterward. I soon came to know that he was -a successful jury-lawyer with a gift of eloquence, and a knack of -insinuation, and that he was among the most potent of the political -bosses of the city, with a power of manipulation unequalled by any -politician in the community. He had good manners and a ready smile. He -was the attorney or legal agent for a number of wealthy concerns, among -them the Argand estate, and had amassed a fortune. He was also "the -legal adviser" of one of the afternoon papers, the _Trumpet_, in which, -as I learned later, he held, though it was not generally known, a large -and potent interest. He was now looming up as the chief candidate of the -popular party for Mayor, an office which he expected to secure a few -months later. He was interested in a part of the street-car system of -the city, that part in which "the Argand estate" held the controlling -interest, and which was, to some extent, the rival system of that known -as the "West Line," in which Mr. Leigh held a large interest. I mention -these facts because, detached as they appear, they have a strong bearing -on my subsequent relation to McSheen, and a certain bearing on my whole -future. But, on occasion he was as ready for his own purposes to attack -these interests secretly as those opposed to them. He always played his -own hand. To quote Kalender "he was deep." - -My first real meeting with him gave me an impression of him which I was -never able to divest myself of. I was in my little dark cupboard of an -office very lonely and reading hard to keep my mind occupied with some -other subject than myself, when the door half opened quietly, with or -without a preliminary knock, I never could tell which, and a large man -insinuated himself in at it and, after one keen look, smiled at me. I -recalled afterward how catlike his entrance was. But at the moment I was -occupied in gauging him. Still smiling he moved noiselessly around and -took his stand with his back to the one window. - -"You are Mr. Glave?" he smiled. "Glad to see you?" He had not quite -gotten rid of the interrogation. - -I expressed my appreciation of his good-will and with, I felt, even more -sincerity than his; for I was glad to see any one. - -"Always pleased to see young lawyers--specially bright ones." Here I -smiled with pleasure that he should so admirably have "sized me up," as -the saying goes. - -"You are a lawyer also?" I hazarded. - -"Yes. Yes. I see you are studious. I always like that in a young -man--gives him breadth--scope." - -I assented and explained that I had been in politics a little also, all -of which he appeared to think in my favor. And so it went on till he -knew nearly all about me. In fact, I became quite communicative. It had -been so long since I had had a lawyer to talk with. I found him to be a -remarkably well-informed man, and with agreeable, rather insinuating -manners. He knew something of books too, and he made, I could not tell -whether consciously or unconsciously, a number of literary allusions. -One of them I recall. It was a Spanish proverb, he said: "The judge is a -big man, but give your presents to the clerk." - -"Well, you'll do well here if you start right. The tortoise beats the -hare, you know--every time--every time." - -I started, so apt was the allusion. I wondered if he could ever have -known Peck. - -"Yes, I know that. That's what I mean to do," I said. - -"Get in with the right sort of folks, then when there's any sweeping -done you'll be on the side of the handle." He was moving around toward -the door and was looking out of the window reflecting. - -"I have a letter to a gentleman named Leigh," I said. "I have not yet -presented it." - -"Ah!" - -I turned and glanced at him casually and was struck with the singular -change that had come over his face. It was as if he had suddenly drawn a -fine mask over it. His eyes were calmly fixed on me, yet I could hardly -have said that they saw me. His countenance was absolutely -expressionless. I have seen the same detached look in a big cat's eyes -as he gazed through his bars and through the crowd before him to the far -jungle, ocean spaces away. It gave me a sudden shiver and I may have -shown that I was startled, but, as I looked, the mask disappeared before -my eyes and he was smiling as before. - -"Got a pretty daughter?" he said with a manner which offended me, I -could hardly tell why. - -"I believe so; but I do not know her." I was angry with myself for -blushing, and it was plain that he saw it and did not believe me. - -"You know a man 't calls himself Count Pushkin?" - -"Yes, I know him." - -"He knows her and she knows him." - -"Does she? I know nothing about that." - -"Kind o' makin' a set for him, they say?" - -"Is she? I hardly think it likely, if she knows him," I said coldly. I -wondered with what malignant intuition he had read my thoughts. - -"Oh! A good many people do that. They like the sound. It gives 'em -power." - -"Power!" - -"Yes. Power's a pretty good thing to have. You can--" He looked out of -the window and licked his lips in a sort of reverie. He suddenly opened -and closed his hand with a gesture of crushing. "Power and money go -togither?" And still smiling, with a farewell nod, he noiselessly -withdrew and closed the door. - -When he was gone I was conscious of a feeling of intense relief, and -also of intense antagonism--a feeling I had never had for but one man -before--Peck: a feeling which I never got rid of. - -One evening a little later I missed Dix. He usually came home even when -he strayed off, which was not often, unless as happened he went with -Elsa, for whom he had conceived a great fondness, and who loved and -petted him in return. It had come to be a great bond between the girl -and me, and I think the whole family liked me the better for the dog's -love of the daughter. But this evening he did not appear; I knew he was -not with Elsa, for I remembered he had been in my office during the -afternoon, and in consequence I spent an unhappy night. All sorts of -visions floated before my mind, from the prize-ring to the vivisection -table. I rather inclined to the former; for I knew his powerful chest -and loins and his scarred shoulders would commend him to the fancy. I -thought I remembered that he had gone out of my office just before I -left and had gone down the steps which led to the alley I have -mentioned. This he sometimes did. I recalled that I was thinking of Miss -Eleanor Leigh and had not seen or thought of him between the office and -my home. - -I was so disturbed about him by bedtime that I went out to hunt for him -and returned to my office by the same street I had walked through in the -afternoon. When I reached the building in which my office was, I turned -into the alley I have mentioned and went up the back stairway. It was -now after midnight and it was as black as pitch. When I reached my -office, thinking that I might by a bare possibility have locked him in, -I opened the door and walked in, closing it softly behind me. The window -looked out on the well left for light and air, and was open, and as I -opened the door a light was reflected through the window on my wall. I -stepped up to close the window and, accidentally looking across the -narrow well to see where the light came from, discovered that it was in -the back office of Coll McSheen, in which were seated Mr. McSheen and -the sour-looking man I had seen on the train with the silk hat and the -paste diamond studs, and of all persons in the world, Peck! The name -Leigh caught my ear and I involuntarily stopped without being aware that -I was listening. As I looked the door opened and a man I recognized as -the janitor of the building entered and with him a negro waiter, bearing -two bottles of champagne and three glasses. For a moment I felt as -though I had been dreaming. For the negro was Jeams. I saw the -recognition between him and Peck, and Jeams's white teeth shone as Peck -talked about him. I heard him say: - -"No, suh, I don' know nuthin' 't all about him. Ise got to look out for -myself. Yes, suh, got a good place an' I'm gwine to keep it!" - -He had opened the bottles and poured out the wine, and McSheen gave him -a note big enough to make him bow very low and thank him volubly. When -he had withdrawn Peck said: - -"You've got to look out for that rascal. He's an awfully smart -scoundrel." - -"Oh! I'll own him, body and soul," said McSheen. - -"I wouldn't have him around me." - -"Don't worry--he won't fool me. If he does--" He opened and closed his -fist with the gesture I had seen him use the first day he paid me a -visit. - -"Well, let's to business," he said when they had drained their glasses. -He looked at the other men. "What do you say, Wringman?" - -"You pay me the money and I'll bring the strike all right," said the -Labor-leader, "and I'll deliver the vote, too. In ten days there won't -be a wheel turning on his road. I'll order every man out that wears a -West Line cap or handles a West Line tool." - -The "West Line"! This was what the street-car line was called which ran -out into the poor section of the city where I lived, which Mr. Leigh -controlled. - -"That's all right. I'll keep my part. D----n him! I want to break him. -I'll show him who runs this town. With his d----d airs." - -"That's it," said Peck, leaning forward. "It's your road or his. That's -the way I figure it." He rubbed his hands with satisfaction. "I am with -you, my friends. You can count on the Poole interest backing you." - -"You'll keep the police off?" said the Labor-leader. - -"Will I? Watch 'em!" McSheen poured out another glass, and offered the -bottle to Peck, who declined it. - -"Then it's all right. Well, you'd better make a cash payment down at the -start," said the Labor-leader. - -McSheen swore. "Do you think I have a bank in my office, or am a faro -dealer, that I can put up a pile like that at midnight? Besides, I've -always heard there're two bad paymasters--the one that don't pay at all -and the one 't pays in advance. You deliver the goods." - -"Oh! Come off," said the other. "If you ain't a faro dealer, you own a -bank--and you've a bar-keeper. Mick's got it down-stairs, if you ain't. -So put up, or you'll want money sure enough. I know what that strike's -worth to you." - -McSheen rose and at that moment I became aware of the impropriety of -what I was doing, for I had been absolutely absorbed watching Peck, and -I moved back, as I did so, knocking over a chair. At the sound the light -was instantly extinguished and I left my office and hurried down the -stairs, wondering when the blow was to fall. - -The afternoon following my surprise of the conference in McSheen's back -room, there was a knock at my door and Peck walked into my office. I -was surprised to see what a man-of-fashion air he had donned. He -appeared really glad to see me and was so cordial that I almost forgot -my first feeling of shame that he should find me in such manifestly -straitened circumstances, especially as he began to talk vaguely of a -large case he had come out to look after, and I thought he was on the -verge of asking me to represent his client. - -"You know we own considerable interests out here both in the surface -lines and in the P. D. & B. D.," he said airily. - -"No, I did not know you did. I remember that Mr. Poole once talked to me -about some outstanding interests in the P. D. & B. D., and I made some -little investigation at the time; I came to the conclusion that his -interest had lapsed; but he never employed me." - -"Yes, that's a part of the interests I speak of. Mr. Poole is a very -careful man." - -"Very. Well, you see I have learned my lesson. I have learned economy, -at least," I laughed in reply to his question of how I was getting along -in my new home. He took as he asked it an appraising glance at the poor -little office. - -"A very important lesson to learn," he said sententiously. "I am glad I -learned it early." He was so smug that I could not help saying, - -"You were always economical?" - -"Yes, I hope so. I always mean to be. You get much work?" - -"No, not much--yet; still, you know, I always had a knack of getting -business," I said. "My trouble was that I used to disdain small things -and I let others attend to them. I know better than that now. I don't -think I have any right to complain." - -"Oh--I suppose you have to put in night work, too, then?" he added, -after a pause. - -This then was the meaning of his call. He wished to know whether I had -seen him in Coll McSheen's office the night before. He had delivered -himself into my hands. So, I answered lightly. - -"Oh! yes, sometimes." - -I had led him up to the point and I knew now he was afraid to take a -step further. He sheered off. - -"Well, tell me something," he said, "if you don't mind. Do you know Mr. -Leigh?" - -"What Mr. Leigh?" - -"Mr. Walter Leigh, the banker." - -"I don't mind telling you at all that I do not." - -"Oh!" - -I thought he was going to offer me a case; but Peck was economical. He -already had one lawyer. - -"I had a letter of introduction to him from Mr. Poole," I said. "But you -can say to Mr. Poole that I never presented it." - -"Oh! Ah! Well--I'll tell him." - -"Do." - -"Do you know Mr. McSheen?" - -I nodded "Yes." - -"Do you know him well?" - -"Does any one know him well?" I parried. - -"He has an office in this building?" - -I could not, for the life of me, tell whether this was an affirmation or -a question. So I merely nodded, which answered in either case. But I was -pining to say to him, "Peck, why don't you come out with it and ask me -plainly what I know of your conference the other night?" However, I did -not. I had learned to play a close game. - -"Oh! I saw your nigger, Jeams--ah--the other day." - -"Did you? Where is he?" I wanted to find him, and asked innocently -enough. - -"Back at home." - -"How is he getting on?" - -"Pretty well, I believe. He's a big rascal." - -"Yes, but a pleasant one, and an open one." - -Peck suddenly rose, "Well, I must be going. I have an engagement which I -must keep." At the door he paused. "By the way, Mrs. Peck begged to be -remembered to you." - -He had a way of blinking, like a terrapin--slowly. He did so now. - -He did not mean his tone to be insolent--only to be insolent -himself--but it was. - -"I'm very much obliged to her. Remember me to her." - -That afternoon I strolled out, hoping to get a glimpse of Miss Leigh. I -did so, but Peck was riding in a carriage with her and her father. So he -won the last trick, after all. But the rubber was not over. I was glad -that they did not see me, and I returned to my office filled with rage -and determined to unmask Peck the first chance I should have, not -because he was a trickster and a liar, but because he was applying his -trickiness in the direction of Miss Leigh. - -That night the weather changed and it turned off cold. I remember it -from a small circumstance. The wind appeared to me to have shifted when -Miss Leigh's carriage drove out of sight with Peck in it. I went home -and had bad dreams. What was Peck doing with the Leighs? Could I have -been mistaken in thinking he and McSheen had been talking of Mr. Leigh -in their conference? For some time there had been trouble on the -street-car lines of the city and a number of small strikes had taken -place on a system of lines running across the city and to some extent in -competition with the West Line, which Mr. Leigh had an interest in. -According to the press the West Line, which ran out into a new section, -was growing steadily while the other line was falling back. Could it be -that McSheen was endeavoring to secure possession of the West Line? -This, too, had been intimated, and Canter, one of the richest men of the -town, was said to be behind him. What should I do under the -circumstances? Would Peck tell Miss Leigh any lies about me? All these -suggestions pestered me and, with the loss of Dix, kept me awake, so -that next morning I was in rather a bad humor. - -In my walk through the poorer quarter on my way to my office I used to -see a great deal of the children, and it struck me that one of the -saddest effects of poverty--the dire poverty of the slum--was the -debasement of the children. Cruelty appears to be the natural instinct -of the young as they begin to gain in strength. But among the well-to-do -and the well-brought-up of all classes it is kept in abeyance and is -trained out. But in the class I speak of at a certain age it appears to -flower out into absolute brutality. It was the chief drawback to my -sojourn in this quarter, for I am very fond of children, and the effect -of poverty on the children was the saddest part of my surroundings. To -avoid the ruder element, I used to walk of a morning through the little -back street where I had discovered that morning the little school for -very small children, and I made the acquaintance of a number of the -children who attended the school. One little girl in particular -interested me. She was the poorest clad of any, but her cheeks were like -apples and her chubby wrists were the worst chapped of all; and with her -sometimes was a little crippled girl, who walked with a crutch, whom she -generally led by the hand in the most motherly way, so small that it was -a wonder how she could walk, much more study. - -My little girls and I got to that point of intimacy where they would -talk to me, and Dix had made friends with them and used to walk beside -them as we went along. - -The older girl's first name was Janet, but she spoke with a lisp and I -could not make out her name with a certainty. Her father had been out of -work, she said, but now was a driver, and her teacher was "Mith -Thellen." The little cripple's name was "Sissy"--Sissy Talman. This was -all the information I could get out of her. "Mith Thellen" was evidently -her goddess. - -On the cool, crisp morning after the turn in the weather, I started out -rather earlier than usual, intending to hunt for Dix and also to look up -Jeams. I bought a copy of the _Trumpet_ and was astonished to read an -account of trouble among the employees of the West Line, for I had not -seen the least sign of it. The piece went on further to intimate that -Mr. Leigh had been much embarrassed by his extension of his line out -into a thinly populated district and that a strike, which was quite sure -to come, might prove very disastrous to him. I somehow felt very angry -at the reference to Mr. Leigh and was furious with myself for having -written for the _Trumpet_. I walked around through the street where the -school was, though without any definite idea whatever, as it was too -early for the children. As I passed by the school the door was wide open -and I stopped and looked in. The fire was not yet made. The stove was -open; the door of the cellar, opening outside, was also open, and at the -moment a young woman--the teacher or some one else--was backing up the -steps out of the cellar lugging a heavy coal-scuttle. One hand, and a -very small one, was supporting her against the side of the wall, helping -her push herself up. I stepped forward with a vague pity for any woman -having to lift such a weight. - -"Won't you let me help you?" I asked. - -"Thank you, I believe I can manage it." And she pulled the scuttle to -the top, where she planted it, and turned with quite an air of triumph. -It was she! my young lady of the sunny house: Miss Leigh! I had not -recognized her at all. Her face was all aglow and her eyes were filled -with light at a difficulty overcome. I do not know what my face showed; -but unless it expressed conflicting emotions, it belied my feelings. I -was equally astonished, delighted and embarrassed. I hastened to say -something which might put her at her ease and at the same time prove a -plea for myself, and open the way to further conversation. - -"I was on my way to my law-office, and seeing a lady struggling with so -heavy a burden, I had hoped I might have the privilege of assisting her -as I should want any other gentleman to do to my sister in a similar -case." I meant if I had had a sister. - -She thanked me calmly; in fact, very calmly. - -"I do it every morning; but this morning, as it is the first cold -weather, I piled it a little too high; that is all." She looked toward -the door and made a movement. - -I wanted to say I would gladly come and lift it for her every morning; -that I could carry all her burdens for her. But I was almost afraid even -to ask permission again to carry it that morning. As, however, she had -given me a peg, I seized it. - -"Well, at least, let me carry it this morning," I said, and without -waiting for an answer or even venturing to look at her, I caught up the -bucket and swung it into the house, when seeing the sticks all laid in -the stove, and wishing to do her further service, without asking her -anything more, I poured half the scuttleful into the stove. - -"I used to be able to make a fire, when I lived in my old home," I said -tentatively; then as I saw a smile coming into her face, I added: "But -I'm afraid to try an exhibition of my skill after such boasting," and -without waiting further, I backed out, bringing with me only a confused -apparition of an angel lifting a coal-scuttle. - -I do not remember how I reached my office that day, whether I walked the -stone pavements through the prosaic streets or trod on rosy clouds. -There were no prosaic streets for me that day. I wondered if the article -I had seen in the paper had any foundation. Could Mr. Leigh have lost -his fortune? Was this the reason she taught school? I had observed how -simply she was dressed, and I thrilled to think that I might be able to -rescue her from this drudgery. - -The beggars who crossed my path that morning were fortunate. I gave them -all my change, even relieving the necessities of several thirsty -imposters who beset my way, declaring with unblushing, sodden faces that -they had not had a mouthful for days. - -I walked past the little school-house that night and lingered at the -closed gate, finding a charm in the spot. The little plain house had -suddenly become a shrine. It seemed as if she might be hovering near. - -The next morning I passed through the same street, and peeped in at the -open door. There she was, bending over the open stove in which she had -already lighted her fire, little knowing of the flame she had kindled in -my heart. How I cursed myself for being too late to meet her. And yet, -perhaps, I should have been afraid to speak to her; for as she turned -toward the door, I started on with pumping heart in quite a fright lest -she should detect me looking in. - -I walked by her old home Sunday afternoon. Flowers bloomed at the -windows. As I was turning away, Count Pushkin came out of the door and -down the steps. As he turned away from the step his habitual simper -changed into a scowl; and a furious joy came into my heart. Something -had gone wrong with him within there. I wished I had been near enough to -have crossed his path to smile in his face; but I was too distant, and -he passed on with clenched fist and black brow. - -After this my regular walk was through the street of the baby-school, -and when I was so fortunate as to meet Miss Leigh she bowed and smiled -to me, though only as a passing acquaintance, whilst I on my part began -to plan how I should secure an introduction to her. Her smile was -sunshine enough for a day, but I wanted the right to bask in it and I -meant to devise a plan. After what I had told Peck, I could not present -my letter; I must find some other means. It came in an unexpected way, -and through the last person I should have imagined as my sponsor. - - - - -XX - -MY FIRST CLIENT - - -But to revert to the morning when I made Miss Leigh's fire for her. I -hunted for Dix all day, but without success, and was so busy about it -that I did not have time to begin my search for Jeams. That evening, as -it was raining hard, I treated myself to the unwonted luxury of a ride -home on a street-car. The streets were greasy with a thick, black paste -of mud, and the smoke was down on our heads in a dark slop. Like -Petrarch, my thoughts were on Laura, and I was repining at the rain -mainly because it prevented the possibility of a glimpse of Miss Leigh -on the street: a chance I was ever on the watch for. - -I boarded an open car just after it started and just before it ran -through a short subway. The next moment a man who had run after the car -sprang on the step beside me, and, losing his footing, he would probably -have fallen and might have been crushed between the car and the edge of -the tunnel, which we at that moment were entering, had I not had the -good fortune, being on the outer seat, to catch him and hold him up. -Even as it was, his coat was torn and my elbow was badly bruised against -the pillar at the entrance. I, however, pulled him over across my knees -and held him until we had gone through the subway, when I made room for -him on the seat beside me. - -"That was a close call, my friend," I said. "Don't try that sort of -thing too often." - -"It was, indeed--the closest I ever had, and I have had some pretty -close ones before. If you had not caught me, I would have been in the -morgue to-morrow morning." - -This I rather repudiated, but as the sequel showed, the idea appeared to -have become fixed in his mind. We had some little talk together and I -discovered that, like myself, he had come out West to better his -fortune, and as he was dressed very plainly, I assumed that, like -myself, he had fallen on rather hard times, and I expressed sympathy. -"Where have I seen you before?" I asked him. - -"On the train once coming from the East." - -"Oh! yes." I remembered now. He was the man who knew things. - -"You know Mr. McSheen?" he asked irrelevantly. - -"Yes--slightly. I have an office in the same building." - -I wondered how he knew that I knew him. - -"Yes. Well, you want to look out for him. Don't let him fool you. He's -deep. What's that running down your sleeve? Why, it's blood! Where did -it come from?" He looked much concerned. - -"From my arm, I reckon. I hurt it a little back there, but it is -nothing." - -He refused to be satisfied with my explanation and insisted strongly on -my getting off and going with him to see a doctor. I laughed at the -idea. - -"Why, I haven't any money to pay a doctor," I said. - -"It won't cost you a cent. He is a friend of mine and as good a surgeon -as any in the city. He's straight--knows his business. You come along." - -So, finding that my sleeve was quite soaked with blood, I yielded and -went with him to the office of his friend, a young doctor named Traumer, -who lived in a part of the town bordering on the working people's -section, which, fortunately, was not far from where we got off the car. -Also, fortunately, we found him at home. He was a slim young fellow with -a quiet, self-assured manner and a clean-cut face, lighted by a pair of -frank, blue eyes. - -"Doc," said my conductor, "here's a friend of mine who wants a little -patching up." - -"That's the way with most friends of yours, Bill," said the doctor, who -had given me a single keen look. "What's the matter with him? Shot? Or -have the pickets been after him?" - -"No, he's got his arm smashed saving a man's life." - -"What! Well, let's have a look at it. He doesn't look very bad." He -helped me off with my coat and, as he glanced at the sleeve, gave a -little exclamation. - -"Hello!" - -"Whose life did he save?" he asked, as he was binding up the arm. -"That's partly a mash." - -"Mine." - -"Oh! I see." He went to work and soon had me bandaged up. "Well, he's -all right now. What were you doing?" he asked as he put on the last -touches. - -"Jumping on a car." - -"Ah!" The doctor was manifestly amused. "You observe that our friend is -laconic?" he said to me. - -"What's that?" asked the other. "Don't prejudice him against me. He -don't know anything against me yet--and that's more than some folks can -say." - -"Who was on that car that you were following?" asked the doctor, with a -side glance at my friend. The latter did not change his expression a -particle. - -"Doc, did you ever hear what the parrot said to herself after she had -sicked the dog on, and the dog not seeing anything but her, jumped on -her?" - -"No--what?" - -"'Polly, you talk too d----d much.'" - -The doctor chuckled and changed the subject. "What's your labor-friend, -Wringman, doing now? What did he come back here for?" - -"Same old thing--dodging work." - -"He seems to me to work other people pretty well." - -The other nodded acquiescingly. - -"He's on a new line now. McSheen's got him. Yes, he has," as the doctor -looked incredulous. - -"What's he after? Who's he working for?" - -"Same person--Coll McSheen. Pretty busy, too. Mr. Glave there knows him -already." - -"Glave!--Glave!" repeated the doctor. "Where did I hear your name? Oh, -yes! Do you know a preacher named John Marvel!" - -"John Marvel! Why, yes. I went to college with him. I knew him well." - -"You knew a good man then." - -"He is that," said the other promptly. "If there were more like him I'd -be out of a job." - -"You know Miss Leigh, too?" - -"What Miss Leigh?" My heart warmed at the name and I forgot all about -Marvel. How did he know that I knew her? - -"'The Angel of the Lost Children.'" - -"'The Angel--'? Miss Eleanor Leigh?" Then as he nodded--"Slightly." My -heart was now quite warm. "Who called her so?" - -"She said she knew you. I look after some of her friends for her." - -"Who called her the 'Angel of the Lost Children'?" - -"A friend of mine--Leo Wolffert, who works in the slums--a writer. She's -always finding and helping some one who is lost, body or soul." - -"Leo Wolffert! Do you know him?" - -"I guess we all know him, don't we, Doc?" put in the other man. "And so -do some of the big ones." - -"Rather." - -"And the lady, too--she's a good one, too," he added. - -I was so much interested in this part of the conversation that I forgot -at the moment to ask the doctor where he had known John Marvel and -Wolffert. - -I, however, asked him what I owed him, and he replied, - -"Not a cent. Any of Langton's friends here or John Marvel's friends, or -(after a pause) Miss Leigh's friends may command me. I am only too glad -to be able to serve them. It's the only way I can help." - -"That's what I told him," said my friend, whose name I heard for the -first time. "I told him you weren't one of these Jew doctors that -appraise a man as soon as he puts his nose in the door and skin him -clean." - -"I am a Jew, but I hope I am not one of that kind." - -"No; but there are plenty of 'em." - -I came away feeling that I had made two friends well worth making. They -were real men. - -When I parted from my friend he took out of his pocket-book a card. "For -my friends," he said, as he handed it to me. When I got to the light I -read: - -"Wm. Langton, Private Detective." - -It was not until long afterward that I knew that the man he was -following when he sprang on the car and I saved him was myself, and that -I owed the attention to my kinsman and to Mr. Leigh, to whom Peck had -given a rather sad account of me. My kinsman had asked him to ascertain -how I lived. - -I called on my new friend, Langton, earlier than he had expected. In my -distress about Dix I consulted him the very next day and he undertook to -get him back. I told him I had not a cent to pay him with at present, -but some day I should have it and then---- - -"You'll never owe me a cent as long as you live," he said. "Besides, I'd -like to find that dog. I remember him. He's a good one. You say you used -the back stairway at times, opening on the alley near Mick Raffity's?" - -"Yes." - -He looked away out of the window with a placid expression. - -"I wouldn't go down that way too often at night," he said presently. - -"Why?" - -"Oh! I don't know. You might stumble and break your neck. One or two men -have done it." - -"Oh! I'll be careful," I laughed. "I'm pretty sure-footed." - -"You need to be--there. You say your dog's a good fighter?" - -"He's a paladin. Can whip any dog I ever saw. I never fought him, but I -had a negro boy who used to take him off till I stopped him." - -"Well, I'll find him--that is, I'll find where he went." - -I thanked him and strolled over across town to try to get a glimpse of -the "Angel of the Lost Children." I saw her in a carriage with another -young girl, and as I gazed at her she suddenly turned her eyes and -looked straight at me, quite as if she had expected to see me, and the -smile she gave me, though only that which a pleasant thought wings, -lighted my heart for a week. - -A day or two later my detective friend dropped into my office. - -"Well, I have found him." His face showed that placid expression which, -with him, meant deep satisfaction. "The police have him--are holding him -in a case, but you can identify and get him. He was in the hands of a -negro dog-stealer and they got him in a raid. They pulled one of the -toughest joints in town when there was a fight going on and pinched a -full load. The nigger was among them. He put up a pretty stiff fight and -they had to hammer him good before they quieted him. He'll go down for -ninety days sure. He was a fighter, they said--butted men right and -left." - -"I'm glad they hammered him--you're sure it's Dix?" - -"Sure; he claimed the dog; said he'd raised him. But it didn't go. I -knew he'd stolen him because he said he knew you." - -"Knew me--a negro? What did he say his name was?" - -"They told me--let me see--Professor Jeams--something." - -"Not Woodson?" - -"Yes, that's it." - -"Well, for once in his life he told the truth. He sold me the dog. You -say he's in jail? I must go and get him out." - -"You'll find it hard work. Fighting the police is a serious crime in -this city. A man had better steal, rob, or kill anybody else than fight -an officer." - -"Who has most pull down there?" - -"Well, Coll McSheen has considerable. He runs the police. He may be next -Mayor." - -I determined, of course, to go at once and see what I could do to get -Jeams out of his trouble. I found him in the common ward among the -toughest criminals in the jail--a massive and forbidding looking -structure--to get into which appeared for a time almost as difficult as -to get out. But on expressing my wish to be accorded an interview with -him, I was referred from one official to another, until, with my back to -the wall, I came to a heavy, bloated, ill-looking creature who went by -the name of Sergeant Byle. I preferred my request to him. I might as -well have undertaken to argue with the stone images which were rudely -carved as Caryatides beside the entrance. He simply puffed his big black -cigar in silence, shook his head, and looked away from me; and my urging -had no other effect than to bring a snicker of amusement from a couple -of dog-faced shysters who had entered and, with a nod to him, had sunk -into greasy chairs. - -"Who do you know here?" - -A name suddenly occurred to me, and I used it. - -"Among others, I know Mr. McSheen," and as I saw his countenance fall, I -added, "and he is enough for the present." I looked him sternly in the -eye. - -He got up out of his seat and actually walked across the room, opened a -cupboard and took out a key, then rang a bell. - -"Why didn't you say you were a friend of his?" he asked surlily. "A -friend of Mr. McSheen can see any one he wants here." - -I have discovered that civility will answer with nine-tenths or even -nineteen-twentieths of the world, but there is a class of intractable -brutes who yield only to force and who are influenced only by fear, and -of them was this sodden ruffian. He led the way now subserviently -enough, growling from time to time some explanation, which I took to be -his method of apologizing. When, after going through a number of -corridors, which were fairly clean and well ventilated, we came at -length to the ward where my unfortunate client was confined, the -atmosphere was wholly different: hot and fetid and intolerable. The air -struck me like a blast from some infernal region, and behind the grating -which shut off the miscreants within from even the modified freedom of -the outer court was a mass of humanity of all ages, foul enough in -appearance to have come from hell. - -At the call of the turnkey, there was some interest manifested in their -evil faces and some of them shouted back, repeating the name of Jim -Woodson; some half derisively, others with more kindliness. At length, -out of the mob emerged poor Jeams, but, like Lucifer, Oh, how changed! -His head was bandaged with an old cloth, soiled and stained; his mien -was dejected, and his face was swollen and bruised. At sight of me, -however, he suddenly gave a cry, and springing forward tried to thrust -his hands through the bars of the grating to grasp mine. "Lord, God!" he -exclaimed. "If it ain't de Captain. Glory be to God! Marse Hen, I knowed -you'd come, if you jes' heard 'bout me. Git me out of dis, fur de Lord's -sake. Dis is de wuss place I ever has been in in my life. Dey done beat -me up and put handcuffs on me, and chain me, and fling me in de -patrol-wagon, and lock me up and sweat me, and put me through the third -degree, till I thought if de Lord didn't take mercy 'pon me, I would be -gone for sho. Can't you git me out o' dis right away?" - -I explained the impossibility of doing this immediately, but assured him -that he would soon be gotten out and that I would look after his case -and see that he got justice. - -"Yes, sir, that is what I want--jestice--I don't ax nothin' but -jestice." - -"How did you get here?" I demanded. And even in his misery, I could not -help being amused to see his countenance fall. - -"Dey fetched me here in de patrol-wagon," he said evasively. - -"I know that. I mean, for what?" - -"Well, dey say, Captain, dat I wus desorderly an' drunk, but you know I -don' drink nothin'." - -"I know you do, you fool," I said, with some exasperation. "I have no -doubt you were what they say, but what I mean is, where is Dix and how -did you get hold of him?" - -"Well, you see, Marse Hen, it's dthis way," said Jeams falteringly. "I -come here huntin' fur you and I couldn' fin' you anywheres, so then I -got a place, and while I wus lookin' 'roun' fur you one day, I come 'pon -Dix, an' as he wus lost, jes' like you wus, an' he didn't know where you -wus, an' you didn't know where he wus, I tuk him along to tek care of -him till I could fin' you." - -"And incidentally to fight him?" I said. - -Again Jeams's countenance fell. "No, sir, that I didn't," he declared -stoutly. "Does you think I'd fight dthat dog after what you tol' me?" - -"Yes, I do. I know you did, so stop lying about it and tell me where he -is, or I will leave you in here to rot till they send you down to the -rockpile or the penitentiary." - -"Yes, sir; yes, sir, I will. Fur God's sake, don' do dat, Marse Hen. -Jes' git me out o' here an' I will tell you everything; but I'll swear I -didn't fight him; he jes' got into a fight so, and then jist as he hed -licked de stuffin out of dat Barkeep Gallagin's dog, them d----d -policemen come in an' hammered me over the head because I didn't want -them to rake in de skads and tek Dix 'way from me." - -I could not help laughing at his contradictions. - -"Well, where is he now?" - -"I'll swear, Marse Hen, I don' know. You ax the police. I jes' know he -ain't in here, but dey knows where he is. I prays night and day no harm -won't happen to him, because dat dog can beat any dog in this sinful -town. I jes' wish you had seen him." - -As the turnkey was now showing signs of impatience, I cut Jeams short, -thereby saving him the sin of more lies, and with a promise that I would -get him bailed out if I could, I came away. - -The turnkey had assured me on the way that he would find and return me -my dog, and was so sincere in his declaration that nothing would give -him more pleasure than to do this for any friend of Mr. McSheen's, that -I made the concession of allowing him to use his efforts in this -direction. But I heard nothing more of him. - -With the aid of my friend, the detective, I soon learned the names of -the police officers who had arrested Jeams, and was enabled to get from -them the particulars of the trouble which caused his arrest. - -It seemed that, by one of the strange and fortuitous circumstances which -so often occur in life, Jeams had come across Dix just outside of the -building in which was my law office, and being then in his glory, he had -taken the dog into the bar-room of Mick Raffity, where he had on arrival -in town secured a place, to see what chance there might be of making a -match with Dix. The match was duly arranged and came off the following -night in a resort not far from Raffity's saloon, and Dix won the fight. -Just at this moment, however, the police made a raid, pulled the place -and arrested as many of the crowd as could not escape, and held on to as -many of those as were without requisite influence to secure their prompt -discharge. In the course of the operation, Jeams got soundly hammered, -though I could not tell whether it was for being drunk or for engaging -in a scrimmage with the police. Jeams declared privately that it was to -prevent his taking down the money. - -When the trial came off, I had prepared myself fully, but I feel -confident that nothing would have availed to secure Jeams's acquittal -except for two circumstances: One was that I succeeded in enlisting the -interest of Mr. McSheen, who for some reason of his own showed a -disposition to be particularly civil and complacent toward me at that -time--so civil indeed that I quite reproached myself for having -conceived a dislike of him. Through his intervention, as I learned -later, the most damaging witness against my client suddenly became -exceedingly friendly to him and on the witness-stand failed to remember -any circumstance of importance which could injure him, and finally -declared his inability to identify him. - -The result was that Jeams was acquitted, and when he was so informed, he -arose and made a speech to the Court and the Jury which would certainly -fix him in their memory forever. In the course of it, he declared that I -was the greatest lawyer that had ever lived in the world, and I had to -stop him for fear, in his ebullient enthusiasm, he might add also that -Dix was the greatest dog that ever lived. - - - - -XXI - -THE RESURRECTION OF DIX - - -Still, I had not got Dix back, and I meant to find him if possible! It -was several days before I could get on the trace of him, and when I -undertook to get the dog I found an unexpected difficulty in the way. I -was sent from one office to another until my patience was almost -exhausted, and finally when I thought I had, at last, run him down, I -was informed that the dog was dead. The gapped-tooth official, with a -pewter badge on his breast as his only insignia of official rank, on my -pressing the matter, gave me a circumstantial account of the manner in -which the dog came to his death. He had attempted, he said, to get -through the gate, and it had slammed to on him accidentally, and, being -very heavy, had broken his neck. - -I had given Dix up for lost and was in a very low state of mind, in -which Jeams sympathized with me deeply, though possibly for a different -reason. He declared that we had "lost a dog as could win a ten-dollar -bill any day he could get a man to put it up." - -"Cap'n, you jes' ought to 'a' seen the way he chawed up that bar-keep -Gallagin's dog! I was jes' gittin' ready to rake in de pile when dem -perlice jumped in an' hammered me. We done los' dat dog, Cap'n--you an' -I got to go to work," he added with a rueful look. - -It did look so, indeed. A few days later, a letter from him announced -that he had gotten a place and would call on me "before long." As he -gave no address, I assumed that his "place" was in some bar-room, and I -was much disturbed about him. One day, not long after, Dix dashed into -my office and nearly ate me up in his joy. I really did not know until -he came back how dear he was to me. It was as if he had risen from the -dead. I took him up in my arms and hugged him as if I had been a boy. He -wore a fine new collar with a monogram on it which I could not decipher. -Next day, as I turned into the alley at the back of the building on -which opened Mick Raffity's saloon, with a view to running up to my -office by the back way, I found Dix in the clutches of a man who was -holding on to him, notwithstanding his effort to escape. He was a short, -stout fellow with a surly face. At my appearance Dix repeated the -man[oe]uvres by which he had escaped from Jeams the day I left him -behind me back East, and was soon at my side. - -I strode up to the man. - -"What are you doing with my dog?" I demanded angrily. - -"He's Mr. McSheen's dog." - -"He's nothing of the kind. He's my dog and I brought him here with me." - -"I guess I know whose dog he is," he said, insolently. "He got him from -Dick Gallagin." - -Gallagin! That was the name of the man who had put up a dog to fight -Dix. A light began to break on me. - -"I guess you don't know anything of the kind, unless you know he's mine. -He never heard of Gallagin. I brought him here when I came and he was -stolen from me not long ago and I've just got him back. Shut up, Dix!" -for Dix was beginning to growl and was ready for war. - -The fellow mumbled something and satisfied me that he was laboring under -a misapprehension, so I explained a little further, and he turned and -went into Raffity's saloon. Next day, however, there was a knock at my -door, and before I could call to the person to come in, McSheen himself -stood in the door. The knock itself was loud and insolent, and McSheen -was glowering and manifestly ready for trouble. - -"I hear you have a dog here that belongs to me," he began. - -"Well, you have heard wrong--I have not." - -"Well--to my daughter. It is the same thing." - -"No, I haven't--a dog that belongs to your daughter?" - -"Yes, a dog that belongs to my daughter. Where is he?" - -"I'm sure I don't know. I wasn't aware that you had a daughter, and I -have no dog of hers or any one else--except my own." - -"Oh! That don't go, young man--trot him out." - -At this moment, Dix walked out from under my desk where he had been -lying, and standing beside me, gave a low, deep growl. - -"Why, that's the dog now." - -I was angry, but I was quiet, and I got up and walked over toward him. - -"Tell me what you are talking about," I said. - -"I'm talking about that dog. My daughter owns him and I've come for -him." - -"Well, you can't get this dog," I said, "because he's mine." - -"Oh! he is, is he?" - -"Yes, I brought him here with me when I came. I've had him since he was -a puppy." - -"Oh! you did!" - -"Yes, I did. Go back there, Dix, and lie down!" for Dix, with the hair -up on his broad back and a wicked look in his eye, was growling his low, -ominous bass that meant war. At the word, however, he went back to his -corner and lay down, his eye watchful and uneasy. His prompt obedience -seemed to stagger Mr. McSheen, for he condescended to make his first -attempt at an explanation. - -"Well, a man brought him and sold him to my daughter two months ago." - -"I know--he stole him." - -"I don't know anything about that. She paid for him fair and -square--$50.00, and she's fond of the dog, and I want him." - -"I'm sorry, for I can't part with him." - -"You'd sell him, I guess?" - -"No." - -"If I put up enough?" - -"No." - -"Say, see here." He put his hand in his pocket. "I helped you out about -that nigger of yours, and I want the dog. I'll give you $50.00 for the -dog--more than he's worth--and that makes one hundred he's cost." - -"He's not for sale--I won't sell him." - -"Well, I'll make it a hundred." A hundred dollars! The money seemed a -fortune to me; but I could not sell Dix. - -"No. I tell you the dog is not for sale. I won't sell him." - -"What is your price, anyhow?" demanded McSheen. "I tell you I want the -dog. I promised my daughter to get the dog back." - -"Mr. McSheen, I have told you the dog is not for sale--I will not sell -him at any price." - -He suddenly flared up. - -"Oh! You won't! Well, I'll tell you that I'll have that dog and you'll -sell him too." - -"I will not." - -"We'll see. You think you're a pretty big man, but I'll show you who's -bigger in this town--you or Coll McSheen. I helped you once and you -haven't sense enough to appreciate it. You look out for me, young man." -He turned slowly with his scowling eye on me. - -"I will." - -"You'd better. When I lay my hand on you, you'll think an earthquake's -hit you." - -"Well, get out of my office now," I said. - -"Oh! I'm going now, but wait." - -He walked out, and I was left with the knowledge that I had one powerful -enemy. - -I was soon to know Mr. Collis McSheen better, as he was also to know me -better. - -A few days after this I was walking along and about to enter my office -when a man accosted me at the entrance and asked if I could tell him of -a good lawyer. - -I told him I was one myself, though I had the grace to add that there -were many more, and I named several of the leading firms in the city. - -"Well, I guess you'll do. I was looking for you. You are the one she -sent me to," he said doubtfully, when I had told him my name. He was a -weather-beaten little Scotchman, very poor and hard up; but there was -something in his air that dignified him. He had a definite aim, and a -definite wrong to be righted. The story he told me was a pitiful one. He -had been in this country several years and had a place in a -locomotive-shop somewhere East, and so long as he had had work, had -saved money. But they "had been ordered out," he said, and after waiting -around finding that the strike had failed, he had come on here and had -gotten a place in a boiler-shop, but they "had been ordered out" again, -"just as I got my wife and children on and was getting sort of fixed -up," he added. Then he had resigned from the union and had got another -place, but a man he had had trouble with back East was "one of the big -men up here now," and he had had him turned out because he did not -"belong to the union." He was willing to join the union now, but -"Wringman had had him turned down." Then he had gotten a place as a -driver. But he had been ill and had lost his place, and since then he -had not been able to get work, "though the preacher had tried to help -him." He did not seem to complain of this loss of his place. - -"The wagon had to run," he said, but he and his wife, too, had been ill, -and the baby had died and the expenses of the burial had been -"something." He appeared to take it as a sort of ultimate decree not to -be complained of--only stated. He mentioned it simply by way of -explanation, and spoke as if it were a mere matter of Fate. And, indeed, -to the poor, sickness often has the finality of Fate. During their -illness they had sold nearly all their furniture to live on and pay -rent. Now he was in arrears; his wife was in bed, his children sick, and -his landlord had levied on his furniture that remained for the rent. At -the last gasp he had come to see a lawyer. - -"I know I owe the rent," he said, "but the beds won't pay it and the -loan company's got all the rest." - -I advised him that the property levied on was not subject to levy; but -suggested his going to his landlord and laying the case before him. - -"If he has any bowels of compassion whatever--" I began, but he -interrupted me. - -"That's what the preacher said." But his landlord was "the Argand -Estate," he added in a hopeless tone. He only knew the agent. He had -been to him and so had the preacher; but he said he could do -nothing--the rent must be paid--"the Argand Estate had to be kept up, -or it couldn't do all the good it did"--so he was going to turn them out -next day. - -He had been to one or two lawyers, he said; but they wouldn't take the -case against the Argand Estate, and then the lady had sent him to me. - -"What lady?" - -"The lady who teaches the little school--Miss Leigh--she teaches my -Janet." - -McNeil's name had at first made no impression on me, but the mention of -Miss Leigh, "the Argand Estate," and of Wringman brought up an -association. "McNeil--McNeil?" I said. "Did you have five children; and -did your wife bring them on here some months ago--when the train was -late, one day?" - -"Yes, sorr; that's the way it was." - -"Well, I will keep you in longer than to-morrow," I said. And I did. But -Justice is too expensive a luxury for the poor. "Law is law," but it was -made by landlords. I won his case for him and got his furniture -released; I scored the Argand agent, an icy-faced gentleman, named -Gillis, "of high character," as the Argand counsel, Mr. McSheen, -indignantly declared, and incidentally "the Argand Estate," in terms -which made me more reputation than I knew of at the time. - -The case was a reasonably simple one, for my client was entitled to a -poor debtor's exemption of a few household articles of primary need, and -he had not half of what he could have claimed under his exemption. It -appeared, however, that in the lease, which was in the regular form -used by the Argand Estate, all exemptions were waived, and also that it -was the regular practice of the estate to enforce the waiver, and it was -alleged at the trial that this practice had always been sustained. It -was the fact that this was the customary lease and that a principle was -involved which brought Mr. McSheen into the case, as he stated, for a -client who was the largest landlord in the city. And it was the fact -that Miss Leigh had recommended me and that McSheen was in the case that -made me put forth all my powers on it. - -On the stand the Argand agent, Gillis, who, it appeared, had begun as an -office-boy in the office of Mr. Argand and had then become his private -secretary, from which he had risen to wealth and position, a fact I had -learned from Kalender, was foolish enough to say that the case was -gotten up by an unknown young lawyer out of spite against the Argand -Estate and that it was simply an instance of "the eternal attacks on -wealth"; that, in fact, there were "only two sides, the man with the -dress-coat and the man without." - -"You began poor. When did you change your coat?" I asked. - -The laugh was raised on him and he got angry. After that I had the case. -I was unknown, but Gillis was better known than I thought, and the -hardship on my client was too plain. I led him on into a tangle of -admissions, tied him up and cross-examined him till the perspiration ran -off his icy forehead. I got the jury and won the case. But, -notwithstanding my success, my client was ruined. He was put out of the -house, of course, and though I had saved for him his beds, every article -he possessed soon went for food. The laws established for the very -protection of the poor destroy their credit and injure them. He could -not give security for rent, and but for a fellow-workman named Simms -taking him into his house, and the kindness of the man he had spoken of -as "the preacher," his children would have had to go to the workhouse or -a worse place. - -McNeil's case was the beginning of my practice, and in a little while I -found myself counsel for many of the drivers in our section of the city. - -Among those whom this case brought me in touch with was a young lawyer, -who, a little later, became the attorney for the government. My interest -in him was quickened by the discovery that he was related to Mr. Leigh, -a fact he mentioned somewhat irrelevantly. He was present during the -trial and on its conclusion came up and congratulated me on my success -against what he termed "the most powerful combination for evil in the -city. They bid fair," he said, "to control not only the city, but the -State, and are the more dangerous because they are entrenched behind the -support of ignorant honesty. But you must look out for McSheen." As he -stood near Coll McSheen, I caught the latter's eye fixed on us with that -curious malevolent expression which cast a sort of mask over his face. - - * * * * * - -I had not hunted up John Marvel after learning of his presence in the -city, partly because I thought he would not be congenial and partly -because, having left several affectionate letters from him unanswered -during my prosperity, I was ashamed to seek him now in my tribulation. -But Fate decided for me. We think of our absent friend and lo! a letter -from him is handed to us before we have forgotten the circumstance. We -fancy that a man in the street is an acquaintance; he comes nearer and -we discover our mistake, only to meet the person we thought of, on the -next corner. We cross seas and run into our next-door neighbor in a -crowded thoroughfare. In fact, the instances of coincidence are so -numerous and so strange that one can hardly repel the inference that -there is some sort of law governing them. - -I indulged in this reflection when, a morning or two later, as I was -recalling my carelessness in not looking up John Marvel and Wolffert, -there was a tap on the door and a spare, well-built, dark-bearded man, -neatly but plainly dressed, walked in. His hat shaded his face, and -partly concealed his eyes; but as he smiled and spoke, I recognized him. - -"Wolffert! I was just thinking of you." - -He looked much older than I expected, and than, I thought, I myself -looked; his face was lined and his hair had a few strands of silver at -the temples; his eyes were deeper than ever, and he appeared rather -worn. But he had developed surprisingly since we had parted at College. -His manner was full of energy. In fact, as he talked he almost blazed at -times. And I was conscious of a strange kind of power in him that -attracted and carried me along with him, even to the dulling of my -judgment. He had been away, he said, and had only just returned, and had -heard of my success in "defeating the Argand Estate Combination"; and he -had come to congratulate me. It was the first victory any one had ever -been able to win against them. - -"But I did not defeat any combination," I said. "I only defeated Collis -McSheen in his effort to take my client's bed and turn him and his -children out in the street without a blanket." - -"There is the Combination, all the same," he asserted. "They have the -Law and the Gospel both in the combine. They make and administer the one -and then preach the other to bind on men's shoulders burdens, grievous -to be borne, that they themselves do not touch with so much as a -finger." - -"But I don't understand," I persisted; for I saw that he labored under -much suppressed feeling, and I wondered what had embittered him. "Collis -McSheen I know, for I have had some experience of him; and Gillis, the -agent, was a cool proposition; but the Argand Estate? Why, McSheen -strung out a list of charities that the Argand Estate supported that -staggered me. I only could not understand why they support a man like -McSheen." - -"The Argand Estate support charities! Yes, a score of them--all -listed--and every dollar is blood, wrung from the hearts and souls of -others--and there are many Argands." - -"How do you mean?" For he was showing a sudden passion which I did not -understand. He swept on without heeding my question. - -"Why, their houses are the worst in the city; their tenements the -poorest for the rent charged; their manufactories the greatest -sweatshops; their corporate enterprises all at the cost of the -working-class, and, to crown it all, they sustain and support the worst -villains in this city, who live on the bodies and souls of the ignorant -and the wretched." - -"Whom do you mean? I don't understand." - -"Why, do you suppose the Coll McSheens and Gillises and their kind could -subsist unless the Argands and Capons of the Time supported them? They -have grown so bold now that they threaten even their social -superiors--they must rule alone! They destroy all who do not surrender -at discretion." - -"Who? How?" I asked, as he paused, evidently following a train of -reflection, while his eyes glowed. - -"Why, ah! even a man like--Mr. Leigh, who though the product of an -erroneous system is, at least, a broad man and a just one." - -"Is he? I do not know him. Tell me about him." For I was suddenly -interested. - -Then he told me of Mr. Leigh and his work in trying to secure better -service for the public, better tenements--better conditions generally. - -"But they have defeated him," he said bitterly. "They turned him out of -his directorship--or, at least, he got out--and are fighting him at -every turn. They will destroy him, if possible. They almost have him -beat now. Well, it is nothing to me," he added with a shrug of his -shoulders and a sort of denial of the self-made suggestion. "He is but -an individual victim of a rotten system that must go." - -My mind had drifted to the conference which I had witnessed in McSheen's -office not long before, when suddenly Wolffert said, - -"Your old friend, Peck, appears to have gotten up. I judge he is very -successful--after his kind." - -"Yes, it would seem so," I said dryly, with a sudden fleeting across my -mind of a scene from the past, in which not Peck figured, but one who -now bore his name; and a slightly acrid taste came in my mouth at the -recollection. "Well, up or down, he is the same," I added. - -"He is a serpent," said Wolffert. "You remember how he tried to make us -kill each other?" - -"Yes, and what a fool I made of myself." - -"No, no. He was at the bottom of it. He used to come and tell me all the -things you said and--didn't say. He made a sore spot in my heart and -kept it raw. He's still the same--reptile." - -"Have you seen him?" I asked. He leaned back and rested his eyes on me. - -"Yes, he took the trouble to hunt me up a day or two ago, and for some -reason went over the whole thing again. What's McSheen to him?" - -"I shall break his neck some day, yet," I observed quietly. - -"You know I write," he said explanatorily. "He wanted me to write -something about you." - -"About me?" - -"Yes." - -"What a deep-dyed scoundrel he is!" - -"Yes, he wanted to enlist me on the McSheen side, but--" his eyes -twinkled. "Where do you go to church?" he suddenly asked me. - -I told him, and I thought he smiled possibly at what I feared was a -little flush in my face. - -"To 'St. Mammon's!' Why don't you go to hear John Marvel? He is the real -thing." - -"John Marvel? Where is he?" - -"Not far from where you say you live. He preaches out there--to the -poor." - -"In a chapel?" I inquired. - -"Everywhere where he is," said Wolffert, quietly. - -"What sort of a preacher is he?" - -"The best on earth, not with words, but with deeds. His life is his best -sermon." - -I told him frankly why I had not gone, though I was ashamed, for we had -grown confidential in our talk. But Wolffert assured me that John Marvel -would never think of anything but the happiness of meeting me again. - -"He is a friend whom God gives to a man once in his lifetime," he said, -as he took his leave. "Cherish such an one. His love surpasseth the love -of women." - -"Has he improved?" I asked. - -A little spark flashed in Wolffert's eyes. "He did not need to improve. -He has only ripened. God endowed him with a heart big enough to embrace -all humanity--except--" he added, with a twinkle in his eye, "the Jew." - -"I do not believe that." - -"By the way, I have a friend who tells me she has met you. Your dog -appears to have made quite an impression on her." - -"Who is she?" - -"Miss Leigh, the daughter of the gentleman we were talking about." - -"Oh! yes--a fine girl--I think," I said with a casual air--to conceal my -real interest. - -"I should say so! She is the real thing," he exclaimed. "She told me you -put out her fire for her. She teaches the waifs and strays." - -"Put out her fire! Was ever such ingratitude! I made her fire for her. -Tell me what she said." - -But Wolffert was gone, with a smile on his face. - - - - -XXII - -THE PREACHER - - -So, "the preacher" whom my client, McNeil, and my poor neighbors talked -of was no other than John Marvel! I felt that he must have changed a -good deal since I knew him. But decency, as well as curiosity, required -that I go to see him. Accordingly, although I had of late gone to church -only to see a certain worshipper, I one evening sauntered over toward -the little rusty-looking chapel, where I understood he preached. To my -surprise, the chapel was quite full, and to my far greater surprise, old -John proved to be an inspiring preacher. Like Wolffert, he had -developed. When he came to preach, though the sermon was mainly -hortatory and what I should have expected of him, his earnestness and -directness held his congregation, and I must say he was far more -impressive than I should have imagined he could be. His sermon was as -far from the cut-and-dried discourse I was used to hear, as life is from -death. - -He spoke without notes and directly from his heart. His text, "Come unto -me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden." He made it out to be a -positive promise of rest for the weary in body, mind and soul, given by -One not only able to help, but longing to do so: a pitying Father, who -saw His tired children struggling under their burdens and yearned -toward them. The great Physician was reaching out His hands to them, -longing to heal them, if they but received Him; if they but followed -Him. To be converted meant to turn from what they knew to be evil and -try to live as they felt He lived. He had come to bring the gospel to -the poor. He had been poor--as poor as they. He knew their sorrows and -privations and weakness; and their sins, however black they were. All He -asked was that they trust Him, and try to follow Him, forgetting self -and helping others. Do not be afraid to trust Him, or despair if He does -not make Himself known to you. He is with you even until the end--and -often as much when you do not feel it as when you do. - -God appeared very real to him, and also to his hearers, who hung on his -words as simple as they were. I felt a seriousness which I had long been -a stranger to. He appeared to be talking to me, and I set it down to -tenderness for old John Marvel himself, rather than to his subject. - -When the service was over, he came down the aisle speaking to the -congregation, many of whom he appeared to know by name, and whose -concerns he also knew intimately. And as the children crowded around him -with smiles of friendliness, I thought of the village preacher with the -children following, "with endearing wile." - -His words were always words of cheer. - -"Ah! Mrs. Tams! Your boy got his place, didn't he? - -"Mrs. Williams, your little girl is all right again? - -"Well, Mrs. McNeil" (to a rusty, thinly clad woman who sat with her back -to me), "so your husband won his case, after all? His lawyer was an old -friend of mine." - -I had sat far back, as the church was full when I entered, and was -waiting for him to get through with his congregation before making -myself known to him; so, though he was now quite close to me, he did not -recognize me until I spoke to him. As I mentioned his name, he turned. - -"Why, Henry Glave!" Then he took me in his arms, bodily, and lifting me -from the ground hugged me there before the entire remnant of his -congregation who yet remained in the church. I never had a warmer -greeting. I felt as if I were the prodigal son, and, although it was -embarrassing, I was conscious that instant that he had lifted me out of -my old life and taken me to his heart. It was as if he had set me down -on a higher level in a better and purer atmosphere. - -I went home with him that night to his little room in a house even -smaller and poorer than that in which I had my room--where he lived, as -I found, because he knew the pittance he paid was a boon to the poor -family who sublet the room. But as small and inconvenient as the room -was, I felt that it was a haven for a tired and storm-tossed spirit, and -the few books it contained gave it an air of being a home. Before I left -it I was conscious that I was in a new phase of life. Something made me -feel that John Marvel's room was not only a home but a sanctuary. - -We sat late that night and talked of many things, and though old John -had not improved in quickness, I was surprised, when I came to think -over our evening, how much he knew of people--poor people. It seemed to -me that he lived nearer to them than possibly any one I had known. He -had organized a sort of settlement among them, and his chief helpers -were Wolffert and a Catholic priest, a dear devoted old fellow, Father -Tapp, whom I afterward met, who always spoke of John Marvel as his -"Heretick brother," and never without a smile in his eye. Here he helped -the poor, the sick and the outcast; got places for those out of work, -and encouraged those who were despairing. I discovered that he was -really trying to put into practical execution the lessons he taught out -of the Bible, and though I told him he would soon come to grief doing -that, he said he thought the command was too plain to be disobeyed. Did -I suppose that the Master would have commanded, "Love your enemies," -and, "Turn the other cheek," if He had not meant it? "Well," I said, -"the Church goes for teaching that theoretically, I admit; but it does -not do it in practice--I know of no body of men more ready to assert -their rights, and which strikes back with more vehemence when assailed." - -"Ah! but that is the weakness of poor, fallible, weak man," he sighed. -"'We know the good, but oft the ill pursue;' if we could but live up to -our ideals, then, indeed, we might have Christ's kingdom to come. -Suppose we could get all to obey the injunction, 'Sell all thou hast and -give to the poor,' what a world we should have!" - -"It would be filled with paupers and dead beats," I declared, scouting -the idea. "Enterprise would cease, a dead stagnation would result, and -the industrious and thrifty would be the prey of the worthless and the -idle." - -"Not if all men could attain the ideal." - -"No, but there is just the rub; they cannot--you leave out human nature. -Selfishness is ingrained in man--it has been the mainspring which has -driven the race to advance." - -He shook his head. "The grace of God is sufficient for all," he said. -"The mother-love has some part in the advance made, and that is not -selfish. Thank God! There are many rich noble men and women, who are not -selfish and who do God's service on earth out of sheer loving kindness, -spend their money and themselves in His work." - -"No doubt, but here in this city----?" - -"Yes, in this city--thousands of them. Why, where do we get the money -from to run our place with?" - -"From the Argand Estate?" I hazarded. - -"Yes, even from the Argand Estate we get some. But men like Mr. Leigh -are those who support us and women like--ah--But beyond all those who -give money are those who give themselves. They bring the spiritual -blessing of their presence, and teach the true lesson of divine -sympathy. One such person is worth many who only give money." - -"Who, for instance?" - -"Why--ah--Miss Leigh--for example." - -I could scarcely believe my senses. Miss Leigh! "Do you know Miss Leigh? -What Miss Leigh are you speaking of?" I hurriedly asked to cover my own -confusion, for John had grown red and I knew instinctively that it was -she--there could be but one. - -"Miss Eleanor Leigh--yes, I know her--she--ah--teaches in my -Sunday-school." John's old trick of stammering had come back. - -Teaching in his Sunday-school! And I not know her! That instant John -secured a new teacher. But he went on quickly, not divining the joy in -my heart, or the pious resolve I was forming. "She is one of the good -people who holds her wealth as a trust for the Master's poor--she comes -over every Sunday afternoon all the way from her home and teaches a -class." - -Next Sunday at three P. M. a hypocrite of my name sat on a bench in -John's little church, pretending to teach nine little ruffians whose -only concern was their shoes which they continually measured with each -other, while out of the corner of my eye I watched a slender figure -bending, with what I thought wonderful grace, over a pew full of little -girls on the other side of the church intent on their curls or bangs. - -The lesson brought in that bald-headed and somewhat unfeeling prophet, -who called forth from the wood the savage and voracious she-bears to -devour the crowd of children who ran after him and made rude -observations on his personal appearance, and before I was through, my -sympathies had largely shifted from the unfortunate youngsters to the -victim of their annoyance. Still I made up my mind to stick if John -would let me, and the slim and flower-like teacher of the fidgety class -across the aisle continued to attend. - -I dismissed my class rather abruptly, I fear, on observing that the -little girls had suddenly risen and were following their teacher toward -the door with almost as much eagerness as I felt to escort her. When I -discovered that she was only going to unite them with another class, it -was too late to recall my pupils, who at the first opportunity had made -for the door, almost as swiftly as though the she-bears were after them. - -When the Sunday-school broke up, the young lady waited around, and I -took pains to go up and speak to her, and received a very gracious smile -and word of appreciation at my efforts with the "Botany Bay Class," as -my boys were termed, which quite rewarded me for my work. Her eyes, with -their pleasant light, lit up the whole place for me. Just then John -Marvel came out--and it was the first time I ever regretted his -appearance. The smile she gave him and the cordiality of her manner -filled me with sudden and unreasoning jealousy. It was evident that she -had waited to see him, and old John's face bore a look of such happiness -that he almost looked handsome. As for her--as I came out I felt quite -dazed. On the street whom should I meet but Wolffert--"simply passing -by," but when I asked him to take a walk, he muttered something about -having "to see John." He was well dressed and looked unusually handsome. -Yet when John appeared, still talking earnestly with Miss Leigh, I -instantly saw by his face and the direction of his eye that the John he -wanted to see wore an adorable hat and a quiet, but dainty tailor-made -suit and had a face as lovely as a rose. - -I was in such a humor that I flung off down the street, swearing that -every man I knew was in love with her, and it was not until ten o'clock -that night, when I went to John's--whither I was drawn by an -irresistible desire to talk about her and find out how matters stood -between them--and he told me that she had asked where I had gone, that I -got over my temper. - -"Why, what made you run off so?" he inquired. - -"When?" I knew perfectly what he meant. - -"Immediately after we let out." - -"My dear fellow, I was through, and besides I thought you had pleasanter -company." I said this with my eyes on his face to see him suddenly -redden. But he answered with a naturalness which put me to shame. - -"Yes, Miss Leigh has been trying to get a place for a poor man--your -client by the way--and then she was talking to me about a little -entertainment for the children and their parents, too. She is always -trying to do something for them. And she was sorry not to get a chance -to speak further to you. She said you had helped her about her fire and -she had never thanked you." - -It is surprising how quickly the sun can burst from the thickest clouds -for a man in love. I suddenly wondered that Miss Leigh among her good -works did not continually ask about me and send me messages. It made me -so happy. - -"What became of Wolffert?" I inquired. - -"I think he walked home with her. He had something to talk with her -about. They are great friends, you know. She helps Wolffert in his -work." - -"Bang!" went the clouds together again like a clap of thunder. The idea -of Wolffert being in love with her! I could tolerate the thought of John -Marvel being so, but Wolffert was such a handsome fellow, so clever and -attractive, and so full of enthusiasm. It would never do. Why, she might -easily enough imagine herself in love with him. I suddenly wondered if -Wolffert was not the cause of her interest in settlement work. - -"Wolffert is very fond of her--I found him hanging around the door as we -came out," I hazarded. - -"Oh! yes, they are great friends. He is an inspiration to her, she -says--and Wolffert thinks she is an angel--as she is. Why, if you knew -the things she does and makes others do!" - -If John Marvel had known with what a red-hot iron he was searing my -heart, he would have desisted; but good, blind soul, he was on his hobby -and he went on at full speed, telling me what good deeds she had -performed--how she had fetched him to the city; and how she had built up -his church for him--had started and run his school for the waifs--coming -over from her beautiful home in all weathers to make up the fire herself -and have the place warm and comfortable for the little ones--how she -looked after the sick--organized charities for them and spent her money -in their behalf. "They call her the angel of the lost children," he -said, "and well they may." - -"Who does?" I asked suspiciously, recalling the title. "Wolffert, I -suppose?" - -"Why, all my people--I think Wolffert first christened her so and they -have taken it up." - -"Confound Wolffert!" I thought. "Wolffert's in love with her," I said. - -"Wolffert--in love with her! Why!" I saw that I had suggested the idea -for the first time--but it had found a lodgment in his mind. "Oh! no, he -is not," he declared, but rather arguing than asserting it. "They are -only great friends--they work together and have many things in -common--Wolffert will never marry--he is wedded to his ideal." - -"And her name is Eleanor Leigh--only he is not wedded to her yet." And I -added in my heart, "He will never be if I can beat him." - -"Yes--certainly, in a way--as she is mine," said John, still thinking. - -"And you are too!" I said. - -"I? In love with--?" He did not mention her name. It may have been that -he felt it too sacred. But he gave a sort of gasp. "The glow-worm may -worship the star, but it is at a long distance, and it knows that it can -never reach it." - -I hope it may be forgiven to lovers not to have been frank with their -rivals. His humility touched me. I wanted to tell John that I thought he -might stand a chance, but I was not unselfish enough, as he would have -been in my place. All I was brave enough to do was to say, "John, you -are far above the glow-worm; you give far more light than you know, and -the star knows and appreciates it." - - - - -XXIII - -MRS. ARGAND - - -I now began to plan how I was to meet my young lady on neutral and equal -ground, for meet her I must. When I first met her I could have boldly -introduced myself, for all my smutted face; now Love made me modest. -When I met her, I scarcely dared to look into her eyes; I began to think -of the letters of introduction I had, which I had thrown into my trunk. -One of them was to Mrs. Argand, a lady whom I assumed to be the same -lofty person I had seen mentioned in the papers as one of the leaders -among the fashionable set, and also as one of the leaders in all public -charitable work. It had, indeed, occurred to me to associate her -vaguely, first with the private-car episode, and then with my poor -client's landlord, the Argand Estate; but the "Argand Estate" appeared a -wholly impersonal machine of steel; her reputation in the newspapers for -charity disposed of this idea. Indeed, Wolffert had said that there were -many Mrs. Argands in the city, and there were many Argands in the -directory. - -I presented my letter and was invited to call on a certain day, some two -weeks later. She lived in great style, in a ponderous mansion of unhewn -stone piled up with prison-like massiveness, surrounded by extensive -grounds, filled with carefully tended, formal flower-beds. A ponderous -servant asked my name and, with eyes on vacancy, announced me loudly as -"Mr. Glaze." The hostess was well surrounded by callers. I recognized -her the instant I entered as the large lady of the private car. Both she -and her jewels were the same. Also I knew instantly that she was the -"Argand Estate," which I had scored so, and I was grateful to the -servant for miscalling my name. Her sumptuous drawing-rooms were -sprinkled with a handsomely dressed company who sailed in, smiled -around, sat on the edge of chairs, chattered for some moments, grew -pensive, uttered a few sentences, spread their wings, and sailed out -with monotonous regularity and the solemn air of a duty performed. There -was no conversation with the hostess--only, as I observed from my coign -of vantage, an exchange of compliments and flattery. - -Most of the callers appeared either to be very intimate or not to know -each other at all, and when they could not gain the ear of the hostess, -they simply sat stiffly in their chairs and looked straight before them, -or walked around and inspected the splendid bric-à-brac with something -of an air of appraisement. - -I became so interested that, being unobserved myself, I stayed some time -observing them. I also had a vague hope that possibly Miss Leigh might -appear. It was owing to my long visit that I was finally honored with my -hostess's attention. As she had taken no notice of me on my first -entrance beyond a formal bow and an indifferent hand-shake, I had moved -on and a moment later had gotten into conversation with a young -girl--large, plump, and apparently, like myself, ready to talk to any -one who came near, as she promptly opened a conversation with me, a step -which, I may say, I was more than ready to take advantage of. I -recognized her as the girl who had been talking to Count Pushkin the -evening of the concert, and whom I had seen him leave for Miss Leigh. We -were soon in the midst of a conversation in which I did the questioning -and she did most of the talking and she threw considerable light on a -number of the visitors, whom she divided into various classes -characterized in a vernacular of her own. Some were "frumps," some were -"stiffs," and some were "old soaks"--the latter appellation, as I -gathered, not implying any special addiction to spirituous liquors on -the part of those so characterized, but only indicating the young -woman's gauge of their merits. Still, she was amusing enough for a time, -and appeared to be always ready to "die laughing" over everything. Like -myself, she seemed rather inclined to keep her eye on the door, where I -was watching for the possible appearance of the one who had brought me -there. I was recalled from a slight straying of my mind from some story -she was telling, by her saying: - -"You're a lawyer, aren't you?" - -Feeling rather flattered at the suggestion, and thinking that I must -have struck her as intellectual-looking, I admitted the fact and asked -her why she thought so. - -"Oh! because they're the only people who have nothing to do and attend -teas--young lawyers. I have seen you walking on the street when I was -driving by." - -"Well, you know you looked busier than I; but you weren't really," I -said. I was a little taken aback by her asking if I knew Count Pushkin. - -"Oh, yes," I said. "I know him." - -This manifestly made an impression. - -"What do you think of him?" - -"What do I think of him? When I know you a little better, I will tell -you," I said. "Doesn't he attend teas?" - -"Oh! yes, but then he is--he is something--a nobleman, you know." - -"Do I?" - -"Yes. Didn't you hear how last spring he stopped a runaway and was -knocked down and dragged ever so far? Why, his face was all bruises." - -I could not help laughing at the recollection of Pushkin. - -"I saw that." - -"Oh! did you? Do tell me about it. It was fine, wasn't it? Don't you -think he's lovely?" - -"Get him to tell you about it." I was relieved at that moment at a -chance to escape her. I saw my hostess talking to a middle-aged, -overdressed, but handsome woman whose face somehow haunted me with a -reminiscence which I could not quite place, and as I happened to look in -a mirror I saw they were talking of me, so I bowed to my young lady and -moved on. The visitor asked who I was, and I could see the hostess reply -that she had not the slightest idea. She put up her lorgnon and -scrutinized me attentively and then shook her head again. I walked over -to where they sat. - -"We were just saying, Mr.--ah--ah--Laze, that one who undertakes to do a -little for one's fellow-beings finds very little encouragement." She -spoke almost plaintively, looking first at me and then at her friend, -who had been taking an inventory of the west side of the room and had -not the slightest idea of what she was talking. - -"I am overrun with beggars," she proceeded. - -Remembering her great reputation for charity, I thought this natural and -suggested as much. She was pleased with my sympathy, and continued: - -"Why, they invade me even in the privacy of my home. Not long ago, a -person called and, though I had given instructions to my butler to deny -me to persons, unless he knew their business and I know them, this man, -who was a preacher and should have known better, pushed himself in and -actually got into my drawing-room when I was receiving some of my -friends. As he saw me, of course I could not excuse myself, and do you -know, he had the insolence, not only to dictate to me how I should spend -my money, but actually how I should manage my affairs!" - -"Oh! dear, think of that!" sighed the other lady. "And you, of all -people!" - -I admitted that this was extraordinary, and, manifestly encouraged, Mrs. -Argand swept on. - -"Why, he actually wanted me to forego my rents and let a person stay in -one of my houses who would not pay his rent!" - -"Incredible!" - -"The man had had the insolence to hold on and actually force me to bring -suit." - -"Impossible!" - -I began to wish I were back in my office. At this moment, however, -succor came from an unexpected source. - -"You know we have bought a house very near you?" interjected the blonde -girl who had joined our group and suddenly broke in on our hostess's -monologue. - -"Ah! I should think you would feel rather lonely up here--and would miss -all your old friends?" said Mrs. Argand sweetly, turning her eyes toward -the door. The girl lifted her head and turned to the other lady. - -"Not at all. You know lots of people call at big houses, Mrs. Gillis, -just because they are big," said she, with a spark in her pale-blue eye, -and I felt she was able to take care of herself. - -But Mrs. Argand did not appear to hear. She was looking over the heads -of the rest of us with her eye on the door, when suddenly, as her -servant in an unintelligible voice announced some one, her face lit up. - -"Ah! My dear Count! How do you do? It was so good of you to come." - -I turned to look just as Pushkin brushed by me and, with a little rush -between the ladies seated near me, bent over and seizing her hand, -kissed it zealously, while he uttered his compliments. It manifestly -made a deep impression on the company. I was sure he had seen me. The -effect on the company was remarkable. The blonde girl moved around a -little and stood in front of another lady who pressed slightly forward. - -"Count Pushkin!" muttered one lady to Mrs. Gillis, in an audible -undertone. - -"Oh! I know him well." She was evidently trying to catch the count's eye -to prove her intimate acquaintance; but Pushkin was too much engrossed -with or by our hostess to see her--or else was too busy evading my eye. - -"Well, it's all up with me," I thought. "If I leave him here, my -character's gone forever." - -"Such a beautiful custom," murmured Mrs. Gillis's friend. "I always like -it." - -"Now, do sit down and have a cup of tea," said our hostess. "I will make -you a fresh cup." She glanced at a chair across the room and then at me, -and I almost thought she was going to ask me to bring the chair for the -count! But she thought better of it. - -"Go and bring that chair and sit right here by me and let me know how -you are." - -"Here, take this seat," said Mrs. Gillis, who was rising, but whose eyes -were fast on Pushkin's face. - -"Oh! must you be going?" asked Mrs. Argand. "Well, good-by--so glad you -could come." - -"Yes, I must go. How do you do, Count Pushkin?" - -"Oh! ah! How do you do?" said the count, turning with a start and a -short bow. - -"I met you at the ball not long ago. Miss McSheen introduced me to you. -Don't you remember?" She glanced at the young lady who stood waiting. - -"Ah! Yes--certainly! To be sure--Miss McSheen--ah! yes, I remember." - -Doubtless, he did; for at this juncture the young lady I had been -talking to, stepped forward and claimed the attention of the count, who, -I thought, looked a trifle bored. - -Feeling as if I were a mouse in a trap, I was about to try to escape -when my intention was changed as suddenly as by a miracle, and, indeed, -Eleanor Leigh's appearance at this moment seemed almost, if not quite, -miraculous. - -She had been walking rapidly in the wind and her hair was a little blown -about--not too much--for I hate frowsy hair--just enough to give -precisely the right touch of "sweet neglect" and naturalness to a pretty -and attractive girl. Her cheeks were glowing, her eyes sparkling, her -face lighted with some resolution which made it at once audacious and -earnest, and as she came tripping into the room she suddenly transformed -it by giving it something of reality which it had hitherto lacked. She -appeared like spring coming after winter. She hurried up to her aunt -(who, I must say, looked pleased to see her and gave Pushkin an arch -glance which I did not fail to detect), and then, after a dutiful and -hasty kiss, she pulled up a chair and dashed into the middle of the -subject which filled her mind. She was so eager about it that she did -not pay the least attention to Pushkin, who, with his heels close -together, and his back almost turned on the other girl, who was rattling -on at his ear, was bowing and grinning like a Japanese toy; and she did -not even see me, where I stood a little retired. - -"My dear, here is Count Pushkin trying to speak to you," said her aunt. -"Come here, Miss McSheen, and tell me what you have been doing." She -smiled at the blonde girl and indicated a vacated chair. - -But Miss McSheen saw the trap--she had no idea of relinquishing her -prize, and Miss Leigh did not choose to try for a capture. - -"Howdydo, Count Pushkin," she said over her shoulder, giving the smiling -and bowing Pushkin only half a nod and less than half a glance. "Oh! -aunt," she proceeded, "I have such a favor to ask you. Oh, it's a most -worthy object, I assure you--really worthy." - -"How much is it?" inquired the older lady casually. - -"I don't know yet. But wait--you must let me tell you about it, and you -will see how good it is." - -"My dear, I haven't a cent to give to anything," said her aunt. "I am -quite strapped." - -"I know, it's the family disease," said the girl lightly, and hurried -on. "I am trying to do some work among the poor." - -"The poor!" exclaimed her aunt. "My dear, I am so tired of hearing about -the poor, I don't know what to do. I am one of the poor myself. My agent -was here this morning and tells me that any number of my tenants are -behind on their rents and several of my best tenants have given notice -that on the expiration of their present terms, they want a reduction of -their rents." - -"I know," said the girl. "They are out of work. They are all ordered -out, or soon will be, papa says, poor things! I have been to-day to see -a poor family----" - -"Out of work! Of course they are out of work! They _won't_ work, that's -why they are out--and now they are talking of a general strike! As if -they hadn't had strikes enough. I shall cut down my charities; that's -what I shall do." - -"Oh! aunt, don't do that!" exclaimed the girl. "They are so poor. If you -could see a poor family I saw this morning. Why, they have -nothing--nothing! They are literally starving." - -"Well, they have themselves to thank, if they are." She was now -addressing the count, and two or three ladies seated near her on the -edge of their chairs. - -"Very true!" sighed one of the latter. - -"I know," said the count. "I haf read it in th' papers to-day t'at t'ey -vill what you call strike. T'ey should be--vhat you call, put down." - -"Of course they should. It almost makes one despair of mankind," chimed -in Mrs. Gillis, who, though standing, could not tear herself away. As -she stood buttoning at a glove, I suddenly recalled her standing at the -foot of a flight of steps looking with cold eyes at a child's funeral. - -"Yes, their ingratitude! It does, indeed," said Mrs. Argand. "My -agent--ah! your husband--says I shall have to make repairs that will -take up every bit of the rents of any number of my houses--and two of my -largest warehouses. I have to repair them, of course. And then if this -strike really comes, why, he says it will cost our city lines alone--oh! -I don't know how much money. But I hate to talk about money. It is so -sordid!" She sat back in her chair. - -"Yes, indeed," assented the bejewelled lady she addressed. "I don't even -like to think about it. I would like just to be able to draw my cheque -for whatever I want and never hear the word _money_--like you, Mrs. -Argand. But one can't do it," she sighed. "Why, my mail----" - -"Why don't you do as I do?" demanded Mrs. Argand, who had no idea of -having the conversation taken away from her in her own house. "My -secretary opens all those letters and destroys them. I consider it a -great impertinence for any one whom I don't know to write to me, and, of -course, I don't acknowledge those letters. My agent----" - -"My dear, we must go," said the lady nearest her to her companion. As -the two ladies swept out they stopped near me to look at a picture, and -one of them said to the other: - -"Did you ever hear a more arrogant display in all your life? Her -secretary! Her interest--her duties! As if we didn't all have them!" - -"Yes, indeed. And her agent! That's my husband!" - -"But I do think she was right about that man's pushing in----" - -"Oh! yes, about that--she was, but she need not be parading her money -before us. My husband made it for old Argand." - -"My husband says the Argand Estate is vilely run, that they have the -worst tenements in the city and charge the highest rents." - -"Do you know that my husband is her--agent?" - -"Is he? Why, to be sure; but of course, she is responsible." - -"Yes, she's the cause of it." - -"And they pay more for their franchises than any one else. Why, my -husband says that Coll McSheen, who is the lawyer of the Argand Estate, -is the greatest briber in this city. I suppose he'll be buying a count -next. I don't see how your husband stands him. He's so refined--such -a----" - -"Well, they have to have business dealings together, you know." - -"Yes. They say he just owns the council, and now he's to be mayor." - -"I know." - -"Did you see that article in the paper about him and his methods, -charging that he was untrue to every one in town, even the Canters and -Argands who employed him?" - -"Oh, didn't I? I tell my husband he'd better be sure which side to take. -One reason I came to-day was to see how she took it." - -"So did I," said her friend. "They say the first paper was written by a -Jew. It was a scathing indictment. It charged him with making a breach -between Mr. Leigh and Mrs. Argand, and now with trying to ruin Mr. -Leigh." - -"And it was written by a Jew? Was it, indeed? I should like to meet him, -shouldn't you? But, of course, we couldn't invite him to our homes. Do -you know anybody who might invite him to lunch and ask us to meet him? -It would be so interesting to hear him talk." - -So they passed out, and I went up to make my adieux to our hostess, -secretly intending to remain longer if I could get a chance to talk to -her niece, who was now presenting her petition to her, while the count, -with his eye on her while he pretended to listen to Miss McSheen, stood -by waiting like a cat at a mousehole. - -As I approached, Miss Leigh glanced up, and I flattered myself for weeks -that it was not only surprise, but pleasure, that lighted up her face. - -"Why, how do you do?" she said, and I extended my hand, feeling as shy -as I ever did in my life, but as though paradise were somewhere close at -hand. - -"Where did you two know each other?" demanded her aunt, suspiciously, -and I saw Pushkin's face darken, even while the blonde girl rattled on -at his ear. - -"Why, this is the gentleman who had the poor children on the train that -day last spring. They are the same children I have been telling you -about." - -"Yes, but I did not know you had ever really met." - -"That was not the only time I have had the good fortune to meet Miss -Leigh," I said. I wanted to add that I hoped to have yet better fortune -hereafter; but I did not. - -Perhaps, it was to save me embarrassment that Miss Leigh said: "Mr. -Glave and I teach in the same Sunday-school." - -"Yes, about the she-bears," I hazarded, thinking of one at the moment. - -Miss Leigh laughed. "I have been trying to help your little friends -since; I am glad the she-bears did not devour them; I think they are in -much more danger from the wolf at the door; in fact, it was about them -that I came to see my aunt to-day." - -I cursed my folly for not having carried out my intention of going to -look after them, and registered a vow to go often thereafter. - -"I was so glad you won their case for them," she said in an undertone, -moving over toward me, as several new visitors entered. A warm thrill -ran all through my veins. "But how did you manage to get here?" she -asked with twinkling eyes. "Does she know, or has she forgiven you?" - -"She doesn't know--at least, I haven't told her." - -"Well, I should like to be by--that is, in a balcony--when she finds out -who you are." - -"Do you think I was very--bold to come?" - -"Bold! Well, wait till she discovers who you are, Richard C[oe]ur de -Leon." - -"Not I--you see that door? Well, you just watch me. I came for a -particular reason that made me think it best to come--and a very good -one," I added, and glanced at her and found her still smiling. - -"What was it?" She looked me full in the face. - -"I will tell you some time----" - -"No, now." - -"No, next Sunday afternoon, if you will let me walk home with you after -you have explained the she-bears." - -She nodded "All right," and I rose up into the blue sky. I almost -thought I had wings. - -"My aunt is really a kind woman--I can do almost anything with her." - -"Do you think that proves it?" I said. I wanted to say that I was that -sort of a kind person myself, but I did not dare. - -"My father says she has a foible--she thinks she is a wonderful business -woman, because she can run up a column of figures correctly, and that -she makes a great to-do over small things, and lets the big ones go. She -would not take his advice; so he gave up trying to advise her and she -relies on two men who flatter and deceive her." - -"Yes." - -"I don't see how she can keep those two men, McSheen and Gillis, as her -counsel and agent. But I suppose she found them there and does not like -to change. My father says----" - -Just then Mrs. Argand, after a long scrutiny of us through her lorgnon, -said rather sharply: - -"Eleanor!" - -Miss Leigh turned hastily and plunged into a sentence. - -"Aunt, you do not know how much good the little chapel you helped out in -the East Side does. Mr. Mar--the preacher there gets places for poor -people that are out of employment, and----" - -"I suppose he does, but save me from these preachers! Why, one of them -came here the other day and would not be refused. He actually forced -himself into my house. He had a poor family or something, he said, and -he wanted me to undertake to support them. And when I came to find out, -they were some of my own tenants who had positively refused to pay any -rent, and had held on for months to one of my houses without paying me a -penny." She had evidently forgotten that she had just said this a moment -before. "I happened to remember," she added, "because my agent told me -the man's name, O'Neil." - -"McNeil!" exclaimed Miss Leigh. "Why, that is the name of my poor -family!" She cut her eye over toward me with a quizzical sparkle in it. - -"What! Well, you need not come to me about that man. My counsel said he -was one of the worst characters he knew; a regular anarchist--one of -these Irish--you know! And when I afterward tried to collect my rents, -he got some upstart creature of a lawyer to try and defeat me, and -actually did defraud me of my debt." - -This was a centre shot for me, and I wondered what she would think if -she ever found out who the upstart was. The perspiration began to start -on my forehead. It was clear that I must get away. She was, however, in -such a full sweep that I could not get in a word to say good-by. - -"But I soon gave Mr. Marble, or whatever his name was, a very different -idea of the way he should behave when he came to see a lady. I let him -know that I preferred to manage my affairs and select my own objects of -charity, without being dictated to by any one, and that I did not -propose to help anarchists. And I soon gave Mr. McNeil to understand -whom he had to deal with. I ordered him turned out at once--instantly." -She was now addressing me. - -She was so well satisfied with her position that I must have looked -astonished, and I had not at first a word to say. This she took for -acquiescence. - -"That was, perhaps, the greatest piece of insolence I ever knew!" she -continued. "Don't you think so?" - -"Well, no, I do not," I said bluntly. - -For a moment or so her face was a perfect blank, then it was filled with -amazement. Her whole person changed. Her head went up--her eyes flashed, -her color deepened. - -"Oh!" she said. "Perhaps, we look at the matter from different -standpoints?" rearing back more stiffly than ever. - -"Unquestionably, madam. I happen to know John Marvel, the gentleman who -called on you, very well, and I know him to be one of the best men in -the world. I know that he supported that poor family out of his own -small income, and when they were turned out of their house, fed them -until he could get the father some work to do. He was not an -anarchist, but a hard-working Scotchman, who had been ill and had lost -his place." - -"Oh!" she said--this time with renewed superciliousness, raising her -lorgnon to observe some newcomers. - -"Perhaps, you happen also to know McNeil's counsel--perhaps, you are the -man yourself?" she added insolently. - -[Illustration: "Perhaps you are the man yourself?" she added -insolently.] - -I bowed low. "I am." - -The truth swept over her like a flood. Before she recovered, I bowed my -adieux, of which, so far as I could see, she took no notice. She turned -to Pushkin, as Miss Leigh, from behind a high-backed chair, held out her -hand to me. "Well, poor McNeil's done for now," she said in an -undertone. But as the latter smiled in my eyes, I did not care what her -aunt said. - -"Ah! my dear Count, here is the tea at last," I heard our hostess say, -and then she added solicitously, "I have not seen you for so long. Why -have you denied yourself to your friends? You have quite gotten over -your accident of the spring? I read about it in the papers at the time. -Such a noble thing to have stopped those horses. You must tell me about -it. How did it happen?" - -I could not help turning to give Pushkin one look, and he hesitated and -stammered. I came out filled with a new sense of what was meant by the -curses against the Pharisees. As I was walking along I ran into -Wolffert. - -"Ah! You are the very man," he exclaimed. "It is Providence! I was just -thinking of you, and you ran into my arms. It is Fate." - -It did seem so. Mrs. Argand and her "dear count" had sickened me. Here, -at least, was sincerity. But I wondered if he knew that Miss Leigh was -within there. - - - - -XXIV - -WOLFFERT'S MISSION - - -Wolffert naturally was somewhat surprised to see me come sallying forth -from Mrs. Argand's; for he knew what I had not known when I called -there, that she was the real owner of "The Argand Estate." - -I gave him an account of my interview with the lady. - -"I was wondering," he said, laughing, "what you were doing in there -after having beaten her in that suit. I thought you had taken your nerve -with you. I was afraid you had fallen a victim to her blandishments." - -"To whose?" - -"Mrs. Argand's. She is the true Circe of the time, and her enchantment -is one that only the strong can resist. She reaches men through their -bellies." - -"Oh!" I was thinking of quite another person, who alone could beguile -me, and I was glad that he was not looking at me. - -He was, however, too full of another subject to notice me, and as we -walked along, I told him of the old lady's views about John Marvel. He -suddenly launched out against her with a passion which I was scarcely -prepared for, as much as I knew he loved John Marvel. Turning, he -pointed fiercely back at the great prison-like mansion. - -"Do you see that big house?" His long finger shook slightly--an index of -his feeling. - -"Yes." - -"Every stone in it is laid in mortar cemented with the tears of widows -and orphans, and the blood of countless victims of greed and -oppression." - -"Oh! nonsense! I have no brief for that old woman. I think she is an -ignorant, arrogant, purse-proud, ill-bred old creature, spoiled by her -wealth and the adulation that it has brought her from a society of -sycophants and parasites; but I do not believe that at heart she is -bad." She had had a good advocate defend her to me and I was quoting -her. Wolffert was unappeased. - -"That is it. She sets up to be the paragon of Generosity, the patron of -Charity, the example of Kindness for all to follow. She never gave a -cent in her life--but only a portion--a small portion of the money wrung -from the hearts of others. Her fortune was laid in corruption. Her old -husband--I knew him!--he robbed every one, even his partners. He -defrauded his benefactor, Colonel Tipps, who made him, and robbed his -heirs of their inheritance." - -"How?" For I was much interested now. - -"By buying up their counsel, and inducing him to sell them out and -making him his counsel. And now that old woman keeps him as her counsel -and adviser, though he is the worst man in this city, guilty of every -crime on the statute-books, sacred and profane." - -"But she does not know that?" - -"Not know it? Why doesn't she know it? Because she shuts her doors to -the men who do know it, and her ears to the cries of his victims. -Doesn't every one who cares to look into the crimes in this city know -that Coll McSheen is the protector of Vice, and that he could not exist -a day if the so-called good people got up and determined to abolish -him--that he is the owner of the vilest houses in this city--the vilest -because they are not so openly vile as some others? Isn't she trying to -sell her niece to an adventurer for a title, or a reprobate for his -money?" - -"Is she?" My blood suddenly began to boil, and I began to get a new -insight into Wolffert's hostility. - -We had turned toward John Marvel's. He appeared a sort of landmark to -which to turn as we were dealing with serious subjects, and Wolffert was -on his way there when I encountered him. As we walked along, he -disclosed a system of vice so widespread, so horrible and so repulsive -that I hesitate to set it down. He declared that it extended over not -only all the great cities of the country, but over all the great cities -of all countries. - -I related the story the poor girl I had met that night on the street had -told me, but I frankly asserted that I did not believe that it could be -as general as he claimed. - -"'Smooth Ally,' was it?" said Wolffert, who knew of her. "She is the -smoothest and worst of them all, and she is protected by McSheen, who in -turn is protected by clients like The Argand Estate. What became of -her?" he demanded. - -"Why, I don't know. I turned her over to the Salvationists--and--and -I--rather left her to them." - -I was beginning to feel somewhat meek under his scornful expression. - -"That is always the way," he said. "We look after them for an hour and -then drop them back into perdition." - -"But I placed her in good hands. That is their business." - -"Their business! Why is it not your business, too? How can you shift the -responsibility? It is every one's business. Listen!" He had been -recently to southern Russia, where, he said, the system of scoundrelism -he described had one of its prolific sources, and he gave figures of the -numbers of victims--girls of his own race--gathered up throughout the -provinces and shipped from Odessa and other ports, to other countries, -including America, to startle one. - -"Time was when not a Jewess was to be found on the streets; but now!" He -threw out his hand with a gesture of rage, and went on. He averred that -many steamship officials combined to connive at the traffic, and that -the criminals were shielded by powerful friends who were paid for their -protection. - -"Why, there are in this city to-night," he declared, "literally -thousands of women who have, without any fault of theirs, but ignorance, -vanity, and credulity, been drawn into and condemned to a life of vice -and misery such as the mind staggers to believe." - -"At least, if they are, they are in the main willing victims," I -argued. "There may be a few instances like the girl I saw, but for the -most part they have done it of their own volition." - -Wolffert turned on me with fire flaming in his deep eyes. "Of their own -volition! What is their volition? In fact, most of them are not -voluntary accomplices. But if they were--it is simple ignorance on their -part, and is that any reason for their undergoing the tortures of the -damned in this world, not to mention what your Church teaches of the -next world? Who brought them there--the man who deceived and betrayed -them? Who acted on their weakness and drew them in?--their -seducers?--the wretches who lure them to their destruction?--Not at all! -Jail-birds and scoundrels as they are, deserving the gallows if any one -does, which I do not think any one does--but you do--the ultimate -miscreant is not even the Coll McSheens who protect it; but Society -which permits it to go on unchecked when, by the least serious and -sensible effort, it could prevent it." - -"How?" I demanded. - -"How! By determining to prevent it and then organizing to do so. By -simply being honest. Has it not broken up the institution of -slavery--highway robbery, organized murder--except by itself and its -members? Of course, it could prevent it if it set itself to do it. But -it is so steeped in selfishness and hypocrisy that it has no mind to -anything that interferes with its pleasures." - -We had now reached John Marvel's, where we found John, just back from a -visit to a poor girl who was ill, and his account only added fuel to -Wolffert's flaming wrath. He was pacing up and down the floor, as small -as it was, his face working, his eyes flashing, and suddenly he let a -light in on his ultimate motive. He launched out in a tirade against -existing social conditions that exceeded anything I had ever heard. He -declared that within hearing of the most opulent and extravagant class -the world had ever known were the cries and groans of the most wretched; -that the former shut their ears and their eyes to it, and, contenting -themselves with tossing a few pennies to a starving multitude, went on -wallowing like swine in their own voluptuousness. "Look at the most -talked of young man in this city to-day, the _bon parti_, the coveted of -aspiring mothers. He lives a life to make a beast blush. He is a seducer -of women, a denizen of brothels; a gambler in the life-blood of women -and children, a fatted swine, yet he is the courted and petted of those -who call themselves the best people! Faugh! it makes me sick." - -This was to some extent satisfactory to me, for I detested Canter; but I -wondered if Wolffert did not have the same reason for disliking him that -I had. - -"There was never so selfish and hypocritical a society on earth," he -exclaimed, "as this which now exists. In times past, under the feudal -system, there was apparently some reason for the existence of the -so-called upper classes--the first castle built made necessary all the -others--the chief, at least, protected the subjects from the rapine of -others, and he was always ready to imperil his life; but now--this! When -they all claim to know, and do know much, they sit quiet in their own -smug content like fatted swine, and let rapine, debauchery, and murder -go on as it never has gone on in the last three hundred years." - -"What are you talking about?" I demanded, impressed by his vehemence, -but mystified by his furious indictment. He cooled down for a moment, -and wiped his hand across his eyes. - -"I am fresh from the scene of as brutal a butchery," he said, "as has -taken place within a thousand years. Israel is undergoing to-day the -most extensive and complete persecution that has existed since the close -of the crusades. No wonder the young women fall victims to the -scoundrels who offer them an asylum in a new land and lure them to their -destruction with gifts of gold and words of peace. And this is what -Society does--the virtue-boasting Society of the twentieth century! They -speak of anarchy!--What they mean is a condition which disturbs the -repose of the rich and powerful. There is anarchy now--the anarchy that -consists of want of equal government for rich and poor alike. Look at -John Marvel, here, preaching a gospel of universal love and acting it, -too." - -"Wolffert," said Marvel, softly, "don't. Leave me out--you know I do -not--you are simply blinded by your affection for me----" - -But Wolffert swept on. "Yes, he does--if any man ever does--he lives for -others--and what does he get? Shunted off by a fat, sleek, self-seeking -priest, who speaks smooth things to a people who will have nothing -else." - -"Wolffert, you must not," protested John; "I cannot allow you." - -But Wolffert was in full tide. With a gesture he put John's protest by. -"--To preach and teach the poor how to be patient--how to suffer in -silence----" - -"Now, Leo," said John, taking him by the shoulders, "I must stop -you--you are just tired, excited--overworked. If they suffer patiently -they are so much the better off--their lot will be all the happier in -the next world." - -Wolffert sat down on the bed with a smile. "What are you going to do -with such a man?" he said to me, with a despairing shrug. "And you know -the curious thing is he believes it." - -I went to my own room, feeling still like the prodigal, and that I had -somehow gotten back home. But I had a deeper and more novel feeling. A -new light had come to me, faintly, but still a light. What had I ever -done except for myself? Here were two men equally as poor as I, living -the life of self-denial--one actually by choice, the other as willingly -and uncomplainingly as though it were by choice, and both not only -content, but happy. Why should not I enter the brotherhood? Here was -something far higher and nobler than anything I had ever contemplated -taking part in. What was it that withheld me? Was it, I questioned -myself, that I, with no association whatever in the town except the -poor, yet belonged to the class that Wolffert crusaded against? Was -there something fundamentally wrong with society? I could not enter -freely into Wolffert's rhapsody of hate for the oppressors, nor yet into -John Marvel's quiet, deep, and unreasoning love of Mankind. Yet I began -to see dimly things I had never had a glimmer of before. - -The association with my old friends made life a wholly different thing -for me, and I made through them many new friends. They were very poor -and did not count for much in the world; but they were real people, and -their life, simple and insignificant as it was, was real and without -sham. I found, indeed, that one got much nearer to the poor than to the -better class--their life was more natural; small things matter so much -more to them. In fact, the smallest thing may be a great thing to a poor -man. Also I found a kindness and generosity quite out of proportion to -that of the well-to-do. However poor and destitute a man or a family -might be there was always some one poorer and more destitute, and they -gave with a generosity that was liberality, indeed. For they gave of -their penury what was their living. Whatever the organized charities may -do, and they do much, the poor support the poor and they rely on each -other to an extent unknown among their more fortunate fellow-citizens. -As the Egyptian always stops to lift another's load, so here I found men -always turning in to lend their aid. - -Thus, gradually in the association of my friends who were working among -the poor and helping to carry their burdens, I began to find a new -field and to reap in it a content to which I had long been a stranger. -Also life began to take on for me a wholly new significance; as a field -of work in which a man might escape from the slavery of a selfish -convention which cramped the soul, into a larger life where service to -mankind was the same with service to God, a life where forms were of -small import and where the Christian and the Jew worked shoulder to -shoulder and walked hand in hand. How much of my new feeling was due to -Miss Eleanor Leigh, I did not take the trouble to consider. - -"Father," said Eleanor, that evening, "I have a poor man whom I want a -place for, and I must have it." - -Mr. Leigh smiled. "You generally do have. Is this one poorer than those -others you have saddled on me?" - -"Now don't be a tease. Levity is not becoming in a man of your dignity. -This man is very poor, indeed, and he has a houseful of children--and -his wife----" - -"I know," said Mr. Leigh, throwing up his hand with a gesture of appeal. -"I surrender. They all have. What can this one do? Butts says every -foreman in the shops is complaining that we are filling up with a lot of -men who don't want to do anything and couldn't do it if they did." - -"Oh! This man is a fine workman. He is an expert machinist--has worked -for years in boiler shops--has driven----" - -"Why is he out of a job if he is such a universal paragon? Does he -drink? Remember, we can't take in men who drink--a bucket of beer cost -us twelve thousand dollars last year, not to mention the loss of two -lives." - -"He is as sober as a judge," declared his daughter, solemnly. - -"What is it then?--Loafer?" - -"He lost his place where he lived before by a strike." - -"A striker, is he! Well, please excuse me. I have a plenty of that sort -now without going outside to drag them in." - -"No--no--no--" exclaimed Eleanor. "My! How you do talk! You won't give -me a chance to say a word!" - -"I like that," laughed her father. "Here I have been listening patiently -to a catalogue of the virtues of a man I never heard of and simply -asking questions, and as soon as I put in a pertinent one, away you go." - -"Well, listen. You have heard of him. I'll tell you who he is. You -remember my telling you of the poor family that was on the train last -year when I came back in Aunt Sophia's car and we delayed the train?" - -"I remember something about it. I never was sure as to the facts in the -case. I only know that that paper contained a most infamous and lying -attack on me----" - -"I know it--it was simply infamous--but this poor man had nothing to do -with it. That was his family, and they came on to join him because he -had gotten a place. But the Union turned him out because he didn't -belong to it, and then he wanted to join the Union, but the -walking-delegate or something would not let him, and now he has been -out of work so long that they are simply starving." - -"You want some money, I suppose?" Mr. Leigh put his hand in his pocket. - -"No. I have helped him, but he isn't a beggar--he wants work. He's the -real thing, Dad, and I feel rather responsible, because Aunt Sophia -turned them out of the house they had rented and--though that young -lawyer I told you of won his case for him and saved his furniture--the -little bit he had--he has lost it all through the loan-sharks who eat up -the poor. I tried to get Aunt Sophia to make her man, Gillis, let up on -him, but she wouldn't interfere." - -"That's strange, for she is not an unkind woman--she is only hard set in -certain ways which she calls her principles." - -"Yes, it was rather unfortunate. You see, Mr. Glave was there and Aunt -Sophia!--you should have seen her." - -She proceeded to give an account of Mrs. Argand's discovery of my -identity, and to take us both off. - -"They didn't pay the rent, I suppose?" - -"Yes. But it was not his fault--just their misfortune. His wife's -illness and being out of work and all--it just piled up on top of him. A -man named Ring--something--a walking-delegate whom he used to know back -in the East, got down on him, and followed him up, and when he was about -to get in the Union, he turned him down. And, Dad, you've just got to -give him a place." - -"Wringman, possibly," said Mr. Leigh. "There's a man of that name in -the city who seems to be something of a leader. He's a henchman of Coll -McSheen and does his dirty work for him. He has been trying to make -trouble for us for some time. Send your man around to Butts to-morrow, -and I'll see what we can do for him." - -Eleanor ran and flung her arms around her father's neck. "Oh! Dad! If -you only knew what a load you have lifted from my shoulders. I believe -Heaven will bless you for this." - -"I know Butts will," said Mr. Leigh, kissing her. "How's our friend, the -Marvel, coming on?" - -"Dad, he's a saint!" - -"So I have heard before," said Mr. Leigh. "And that other one--how is -he?" - -"Which one?" - -"Is there any other but the Jew? I have not heard of another reforming -saint." - -"No, he is a sinner," said Eleanor, laughing; and she went on to give an -account of my episode with Pushkin, which she had learned from John -Marvel, who, I may say, had done me more than justice in his relation of -the matter. - -"So the count thought a team had run over him, did he?" - -"Yes, that's what Mr. Marvel said." - -She related a brief conversation which had taken place between her and -Pushkin and Mrs. Argand, after I left, in which Pushkin had undertaken -to express his opinion of me, and she had given him to understand that -she knew the true facts in the matter of our collision. All of which I -learned much later. - -"Well, I must say," said Mr. Leigh, "your new friend appears to have -'his nerve with him,' as you say." - -"Dad, I never use slang," said Miss Eleanor, severely. "I am glad you -have promised to give poor McNeil a place, for, if you had not, I should -have had to take him into the house." - -Mr. Leigh laughed. - -"I am glad, too, if that is the case. The last one you took in was a -reformed drunkard, you said, and you know what happened to him and also -to my wine." - -"Yes, but this one is all right." - -"Of course he is." - -There was joy next day in one poor little household, for McNeil, who had -been dragging along through the streets for days with a weight, the -heaviest the poor have to bear, bowing him down--want of work--came into -his little bare room where his wife and children huddled over an almost -empty stove, with a new step and a fresh note in his voice. He had -gotten a place and it meant life to him and to those he loved. - - - - -XXV - -FATE LEADS - - -One evening I called at Mrs. Kale's to see my two old ladies of the -bundles and also Mrs. Kale, for whom I had conceived a high regard on -account of her kindness to the former as well as to myself, and in the -course of my visit Miss Pansy gave me, for not the first time, an -account of the way in which they had been reduced from what they thought -affluence to what she very truly called "straitened circumstances." I -confess that I was rather bored by her relation, which was given with -much circumlocution until she mentioned casually that Miss Leigh had -tried to interest her father in their case, but he had said it was too -late to do anything. The mention of her name instantly made me alert. If -she was interested, I was interested also. I began to ask questions, and -soon had their whole story as well as she could give it. - -"Why, it may or may not be too late," I said. "It is certainly very long -ago, and the chances of being able to do anything now are very remote; -but if there was a fraud, and it could be proved, it would not be too -late--or, at least, might not be." - -"Oh! Do you think that you could recover anything for us? Mr. McSheen -said nothing could be gotten out of it, and we paid him--a great deal," -she sighed, "--everything we had in the world, almost." - -"I do not say that, but if there was a fraud, and it could be proved, it -might not be too late." - -The name of McSheen had given me a suspicion that all might not be -straight. Nothing could be if he was connected with it. I recalled what -Wolffert had told me of McSheen's selling out. Moreover, her story had -unconsciously been a moving one. They had evidently been hardly used -and, I believed, defrauded. So, when she pressed me, and promised if she -were ever able to do so she "would reward me generously," as if, poor -soul, she could ever reward any one save with her prayers, I undertook -to look into the matter for them, and I began next day. - -I will not go into the steps I took to reach my ends, nor the -difficulties I encountered, which grew as I progressed in my -investigation until they appeared almost insurmountable; but finally I -struck a lead which at last led me to a conviction that if I could but -secure the evidence I could establish such a case of fraud for my two -old clients as would give promise of a fair chance to recover for them, -at least, a part of their patrimony. The difficulty, or one of them--for -they were innumerable--was that to establish their case it was necessary -to prove that several men who had stood high in the public esteem, had -been guilty of such disregard of the rights of those to whom they stood -in the relation of trustees that it would be held a fraud. I was -satisfied that had McSheen taken proper steps to secure his clients' -rights, he might have succeeded and further, that he had been bought -off, but the difficulty was to prove it. - -However, I determined to make the effort to get the proof and my zeal -was suddenly quickened. - -I had now begun to watch for my young lady wherever I went, and it was -astonishing how my quickened senses enabled me to find her in the most -crowded thoroughfare, or in strange and out-of-the-way places. It was -almost as if there were some secret power which drew us together. And -when I was blessed to meet her the day was always one of sunshine for -me, however heavy lowered the dim clouds. - -The next afternoon our meeting was so unexpected that I could not but -set it down to the ruling of a higher power. I had gone out to see how -my McNeil clients were coming on, having doubtless some latent hope that -I might find her there; but she had not been there for several days. -They had heard of her, however, for she had got the husband and father a -place and that made sunshine in the wretched little hovel, as bare as it -was. I was touched by their gratitude, and after taking note of the -wretched poverty of the family, and promising that I would try to get -the mother some sort of work, I strolled on. I had not gone far when I -suddenly came on her face to face. The smile that came into her eyes -must have brought my soul into my face. - -Love is the true miracle-worker. It can change the most prosaic region -into a scene of romance. At sight of Eleanor Leigh's slim figure the -dull street suddenly became an enchanted land. - -"Well, we appear fated to meet," she said with a smile and intonation -that my heart feasted on for days. She little knew how assiduously I had -played Fate during these past weeks, haunting the streets near her home -or those places which she blessed with her presence. This meeting, -however, was purely accidental, unless it be true, as I sometimes almost -incline to think, that some occult power which we cannot understand -rules all our actions and guides our footsteps toward those we love -supremely. John Marvel always called it Providence. - -"Well, may I not see you home?" I asked, and without waiting for her -consent, I took it for granted and turned back with her, though she -protested against taking me out of my way. I had indeed some difficulty -in not saying then and there, "My way is where you are." - -She had been to see one of her scholars who was sick, "the little -cripple, whom you know," she said. I suddenly began to think cripples -the most interesting of mortals. She gave me, as we strolled along, an -account of her first acquaintance with her and her mother; and of how -John Marvel had found out their condition and helped them. Then she had -tried to help them a little, and had gotten the mother to let her have -the little girl at her school. - -"Now they are doing a little better," she said, "but you never saw such -wretchedness. The woman had given up everything in the world to try to -save her husband, and such a wretched hole as they lived in you -couldn't imagine. They did not have a single article of furniture in -their room when I--when Mr. Marvel first found them. It had all gone to -the Loan Company--they were starving." - -John Marvel had a nose like a pointer for all who were desolate and -oppressed. How he discovered them, except, as Eleanor Leigh said, by -some sort of a sixth sense like that of the homing pigeon, surpasses my -comprehension. It is enough that he found and furrowed them out. Thus, -he had learned that a little girl, a child of a noted criminal, had been -ill-treated by the children at a public school and that her mother and -herself were almost starving, and had hastened at once to find her. Like -a hunted animal she had gone and hidden herself in what was scarcely -better than a den. Here John Marvel found her, in a wretched cellar, the -mother ill on a pallet of straw, and both starving, without food or -fire. The door was barred, as was her heart, and it was long before any -answer came to the oft-repeated knock. But at last his patience was -rewarded. The door opened a bare inch, and a fierce black eye in a -haggard white face peered at him through the chink. - -"What do you want?" - -"To help you." - -The door opened slowly and John Marvel entered an abode which he said to -me afterward he was glad for the first time in his life to be so -near-sighted as not to be able to see. A pallet of rags lay in a corner, -and on a box crouched, rather than sat, a little girl with a broken -crutch by her side, her eyes fastened on the newcomer with a gaze of -half bewilderment. It was some time before John Marvel could get -anything out of the woman, but he held a key which at last unlocks every -heart,--a divine and penetrating sympathy. And presently the woman told -him her story. Her husband was a fugitive from justice. She did not say -so, but only that he had had to leave the city because the police were -after him. His friends had turned against him and against her. She did -not know where her husband was, but believed he had left the country, -unless, indeed, he were dead. She was waiting to hear from him, and -meantime everything which she had had gone, and now, though she did not -say so, they were starving. To relieve them was as instinctive with John -Marvel as to breathe. The next step was to help them permanently. It was -hard to do, because the woman was at bay and was as suspicious as a -she-wolf, and the child was as secretive as a young cub. John turned to -one, however, who he believed, and with good reason, knew how to do -things which were lost to his dull comprehension. - -The following day into that den walked Eleanor Leigh, and it was to -visit this woman and her child that she was going the morning I met her -coming down the steps, when she dropped her violets on the sidewalk. It -was a hard task which John Marvel had set her, for as some women may -yield to women rather than to men, so there are some who are harder to -reach by the former than by the latter, and the lot of Red Talman's wife -had separated her from her sex and turned her into a state where she -felt that all women were against her. But Eleanor Leigh was equal to the -task; having gained admission through the open sesame of John Marvel's -name she first applied herself to win the child. Seating herself on the -box she began to play with the little girl and to show her the toys she -had brought,--toys which the child had never seen before. It was not -long before the little thing was in her lap and then the woman had been -won. When Eleanor Leigh came away everything had been arranged, and the -following night Red Talman's wife and child moved to another quarter of -the town, to a clean little room not far from the small school on the -way to which I first met the little waif. - -"But you don't go into such places by yourself?" I said to her when she -had told me their story. "Why, it might cost you your life." - -"Oh, no! No one is going to trouble me. I am not afraid." - -"Well, it is not safe," I protested. "I wish you wouldn't do it." It was -the first time I had ever ventured to assume such an attitude toward -her. "I don't care how brave you are, it is not safe." - -"Oh! I am not brave at all. In fact, I am an awful coward. I am afraid -of mice and all such ferocious beasts--and as to a spider--why, little -Miss Muffet was a heroine to me." - -"I know," I nodded, watching the play of expression in her eyes with -secret delight. - -"But I am not afraid of people. They are about the only things I am not -afraid of. They appear to me so pitiful in their efforts. Why should -one fear them? Besides, I don't think about myself when I am doing -anything--only about what I am doing." - -"What is the name of your little protégée's father--the criminal?" I -asked. - -"Talman--they call him 'Red Talman.' He's quite noted, I believe." - -"'Red Talman!' Why, he is one of the most noted criminals in the -country. I remember reading of his escape some time ago. He was in for a -long term. It was said no prison could hold him." - -"Yes, he has escaped," she said demurely. - -I once more began to protest against her going about such places by -herself as she had described, but she only laughed at me for my -earnestness. She had also been to see the Miss Tippses, she said, and -she gave an amusing and, at the same time, a pathetic account of Miss -Pansy's brave attempt to cover up their poverty. - -"It is hard to do anything for them. One can help the Talmans; but it is -almost impossible to help the decayed gentlefolk. One has to be so -careful not to appear to know her pathetic little deceits, and I find -myself bowing and accepting all her little devices and transparent -deceptions of how comfortable they are, when I know that maybe she may -be faint with hunger at that very time." - -I wondered if she knew their story. But she suddenly said: - -"Tell me about their case. I do trust you can win it." - -I was only too ready to tell her anything. So, as we walked along I told -her all I knew or nearly all. - -"Oh! you must win it! To think that such robbery can be committed! There -must be some redress! Who were the wretches who robbed them? They ought -to be shown up if they were in their graves! I hate to know things and -not know the person who committed them." As she turned to me with -flashing eyes, I felt a great desire to tell her but how could I do so? - -"Tell me. Do you know them?" - -"Yes--some of them." - -"Well, tell me their names." - -"Why do you wish to know?" I hesitated. - -"Because I do. Isn't that sufficient?" - -I wanted to say yes, but still I hesitated. - -"Was it anybody--I know?" - -"Why----" - -"I must know." Her eyes were on my face and I yielded. - -"Mr. Argand was one of the Directors--in fact, was the president of the -road--but I have no direct proof--yet." - -"Do you mean my aunt's husband?" - -I nodded. - -She turned her face away. - -"I ought not to have told you," I added. - -"Oh! yes, you ought. I would have wanted to know if it had been my -father. I have the dearest father in the world. You do not know how good -and kind he is, and how generous to every one. He has almost ruined -himself working for others." - -I said I had no doubt he was all she said; but my heart sank as I -recalled my part in the paper I had written about him. I knew I must -tell her some time, but I hesitated to do it now. I began to talk about -myself, a subject I am rather fond of, but on this occasion I had -possibly more excuse than usual. - -"My mother also died when I was a child," she said, sighing, as I -related the loss of mine and said that I was just beginning to realize -what it was. It appeared to draw us nearer together. I was conscious of -her sympathy, and under its influence I went on and told her the -wretched story of my life, my folly and my failure, and my final resolve -to begin anew and be something worth while. I did not spare myself and I -made no concealments. I felt her sympathy and it was as sweet to me as -ever was grace to a famished soul. I had been so long alone that it -seemed to unlock Heaven. - -"I believe you will succeed," she said, turning and looking me in the -face. - -A sudden fire sprang into my brain and throbbed in my heart. "If you -will say that to me and mean it, I will." - -"I do believe it. Of course, I mean it." She stopped and looked me again -full in the face, and her eyes seemed to me to hold the depths of -Heaven: deep, calm, confiding, and untroubled as a child's. They stirred -me deeply. Why should I not declare myself! She was, since her father's -embarrassment, of which I had read, no longer beyond my reach. Did I -not hold the future in fee? Why might not I win her? - -For some time we drifted along, talking about nothing of moment, -skirting the shore of the charmed unknown, deep within which lay the -mystery of that which we both possibly meant, however indefinitely, to -explore. Then we struck a little further in; and began to exchange -experiences--first our early impressions of John Marvel and Wolffert. It -was then that she told me of her coming to know John Marvel in the -country that night during the epidemic. She did not tell of her part in -the relief of the sick; but it was unnecessary. John Marvel had already -told me that. It was John himself, with his wonderful unselfishness and -gift of self-abnegation, of whom she spoke, and Wolffert with his ideal -ever kept in sight. - -"What turned you to philanthropy?" I asked with a shade of irony in my -voice more marked than I had intended. If she was conscious of it she -took no notice of it beyond saying, - -"If you mean the poor, pitiful little bit of work I do trying to help -Mr. Marvel and Mr. Wolffert among the poor--John Marvel did, and Mr. -Wolffert made the duty clear. They are the complement of each other, Jew -and Gentile, and if all men were like them there would be no divisions." - -I expressed my wonder that she should have kept on, and not merely -contented herself with giving money or helping for that one occasion. -Sudden converts generally relapse. - -"Oh! it was not any conversion. It gave life a new interest for me. I -was bored to death by the life I had been leading since I came out. It -was one continuous round of lunches, dinners, parties, dances, soirées, -till I felt as if I were a wooden steed in a merry-go-round, wound up -and wearing out. You see I had, in a way, always been 'out.' I used to -go about with my father, and sit at the table and hear him and his -friends--men friends--for I did not come to the table when ladies were -there, till I was fifteen--talk about all sorts of things, and though I -often did not understand them, I used to ask him and he would explain -them, and then I read up and worked to try to amuse him, so that when I -really came out, I found the set in which I was thrown rather young. It -was as if I had fallen through an opened door into a nursery. I was very -priggish, I have no doubt, but I was bored. Jim Canter and Milly McSheen -were amusing enough for a while, but really they were rather young. I -was fond of driving and dancing, but I did not want to talk about it all -the time, and then as I got older----" - -"How old?" I demanded, amused at her idea of age. - -"Why, eighteen. How old do you think I should have been?" - -"Oh! I don't know; you spoke as if you were as old as Anna in the -temple. Pray go on." - -"Well, that's all. I just could not stand it. Aunt Sophie was bent on my -marrying--somebody whom I could not bear--and oh! it was an awful bore. -I looked around and saw the society women I was supposed to copy, and -I'd rather have been dead than like that--eating, clothes, and -bridge--that made up the round, with men as the final end and reward. I -think I had hardly taken it in, till my eyes were opened once by a man's -answer to a question as to who had been in the boxes at a great concert -which he had attended and enjoyed: 'Oh! I don't know--the usual -sort--women who go to be seen with other women's husbands. The musical -people were in the gallery listening.' Next time I went my eyes had been -opened and I listened and enjoyed the music. So, when I discovered there -were real men in the world doing things, and really something that women -could do, too, I found that life had a new interest, that is all." - -"You know," she said, after a pause in which she was reflecting and I -was watching the play of expression in her face and dwelling in -delicious reverie on the contour of her soft cheek, "You know, if I ever -amount to anything in this world, it will be due to that man." This -might have meant either. - -I thought I knew of a better artificer than even John Marvel or Leo -Wolffert, to whom was due all the light that was shed from her life, but -I did not wish to question anything she said of old John. I was -beginning to feel at peace with all the world. - -We were dawdling along now and I remember we stopped for a moment in -front of a place somewhat more striking looking and better lighted than -those about it, something between a pawnbroker's shop and a loan-office. -The sign over the door was of a Guaranty Loan Company, and added the -word "Home" to Guaranty. It caught my eye and hers at the same moment. -The name was that of the robber-company in which my poor client, McNeil, -in his futile effort to pay his rent, had secured a small loan by a -chattel-mortgage on his pitiful little furniture at something like three -hundred per cent. The entire block belonged, as I had learned at the -time, to the Argand Estate, and I had made it one of the points in my -arraignment of that eleemosynary institution that the estate harbored -such vampires as the two men who conducted this scoundrelly business in -the very teeth of the law. On the windows were painted legends -suggesting that within all money needed by any one might be gotten, one -might have supposed, for nothing. I said, "With such a sign as that we -might imagine that the poor need never want for money." - -She suddenly flamed: "I know them. They are the greatest robbers on -earth. They grind the face of the Poor until one wonders that the earth -does not open and swallow them up quick. They are the thieves who ought -to be in jail instead of such criminals as even that poor wretch, -Talman, as great a criminal as he is. Why, they robbed his poor wife of -every stick of furniture she had on earth, under guise of a loan, and -turned her out in the snow with her crippled child. She was afraid to -apply to any one for redress, and they knew it. And if it had not been -for John Marvel, they would have starved or have frozen to death." - -"For John Marvel and you," I interjected. - -"No--only him. What I did was nothing--less than nothing. He found them, -with that wonderful sixth sense of his. It is his heart. And he gets no -credit for anything--even from you. Oh! sometimes I cannot bear it. I -would like to go to him once and just tell him what I truly think of -him." - -"Why don't you, then?" - -"Because--I cannot. But if I were you, I would. He would not--want me to -do it! But some day I am going to Dr. Capon and tell him--tell him the -truth." - -She turned, facing me, and stood with clenched hands, uplifted face, and -flashing eyes--breasting the wind which, at the moment, blew her skirts -behind her, and as she poured forth her challenge, she appeared to me -almost like some animate statue of victory. - -"Do you know--I think Mr. Marvel and Mr. Wolffert are almost the most -Christian men I ever saw; and their life is the strongest argument in -favor of Christianity, I ever knew." - -"Why, Wolffert is a Jew--he is not a Christian at all." - -"He is--I only wish I were half as good a one," she said. "I do not care -what he calls himself, he is. Why, think of him beside Doctor--beside -some of those who set up to be burning and shining lights!" - -"Well, I will agree to that." In fact, I agreed with everything she had -said, though I confess to a pang of jealousy at such unstinted praise, -as just as I thought it. And I began in my selfishness to wish I were -more like either of her two models. As we stood in the waning light--for -we were almost standing, we moved so slowly--my resolution took form. - -It was not a propitious place for what I suddenly resolved to do. It was -certainly not a romantic spot. For it was in the centre, the very heart, -of a mean shopping district, a region of small shops and poor houses, -and the autumn wind had risen with an edge on it and laden with dust, -which made the thinly clad poor quicken their steps as they passed along -and try to shrink closer within their threadbare raiment. The lights -which were beginning to appear only added to the appearance of squalor -about us. But like the soft Gallius I cared for none of these things. I -saw only the girl beside me, whose awakened soul seemed to me even more -beautiful than her beautiful frame. And so far as I was concerned, we -might have been in Paradise or in a desert. - -I recall the scene as if it were yesterday, the very softness in her -face, the delicacy of her contour; the movement of her soft hair on her -blue-veined white temple and her round neck as a gentle breath of air -stirred it; the dreamy depths of her eyes as the smile faded in them and -she relapsed into a reverie. An impulse seized me and I cast prudence, -wisdom, reason, all to the winds and gave the rein to my heart. - -"Come here." I took her arm and drew her a few steps beyond to where -there was a vacant house. "Sit down here a moment." I spread my -handkerchief on the dusty steps, and she sat down, smiling after her -little outbreak. - -Leaning over her, I took hold of her hand and lifted it to my breast, -clasping it very tight. - -"Look at me--" She had already looked in vague wonder, her eyes wide -open, beginning the question which her lips were parting to frame. -"Don't say that to me--that about your belief in me--unless you mean it -all--all. I love you and I mean to succeed for you--with you. I mean to -marry you--some day." - -The look in her eyes changed, but for a second they did not leave my -face. My eyes were holding them. - -"Oh!--What?" she gasped, while her hand went up to her throat. - -Then she firmly, but as I afterward recalled, slowly withdrew her hand -from my grasp, which made no attempt to detain it. - -"Are you crazy?" she gasped. And I truly believe she thought I was. - -"Yes--no--I don't know. If I am, my insanity begins and ends only in -you. I know only one thing--that I love you and that some day--some day, -I am going to marry you, though the whole world and yourself oppose me." - -She stood up. - -"But, oh! why did you say that?" - -"Because it is true." - -"We were such good friends." - -"We never were--I never was--for a moment." - -"You were." - -"Never." - -"We were just beginning to understand each other, to be such good -friends, and now you have ended it all." - -"That cannot be ended which never had a beginning. I don't want your -friendship; I want your love and I will have it." - -"No, I cannot. Oh! why did you? I must be going." - -"Why? Sit down." - -"No, I cannot. Good-by." - -"Good-by." - -She hesitated, and then without looking, held out her hand. "Good-by." - -I took her hand and this time kissed it, as I remember, almost fiercely. -She tried to stop me, but I held it firmly. - -"You must not do that; you have no right." She was standing very -straight now. - -"I took the right." - -"Promise me you will never say that again." - -"What?" - -"What you said at first." - -"I don't know what you mean. I have been saying the same thing all the -time--ever since I knew you--ever since I was born--that I love you." - -"You must never say that again--promise me before I go." - -"I promise you," I said slowly, "that I will say it as long as I live." - -She appeared to let herself drift for a half second, then she gave a -little catch at herself. - -"No, really, you must not--I cannot allow you. I have no right to let -you. I must go, and if you are a friend of mine, you will never----" - -"Listen to me," I interrupted firmly. "I have not asked you for -anything; I have not asked your permission; I am not a friend of yours -and I shall never be that. I don't want to be your friend. I love you, -and I am going to win your love. Now you can go. Come on." - -We walked on and I saw her safely home. We talked about everything and I -told her much of myself. But she was plainly thinking not about what I -was saying then, but what I had said on the dusty steps. When we reached -her home, I saved her embarrassment. I held out my hand and said, -"Good-by, I love you." - -No woman can quite let a man go, at least, no woman with a woman's -coquetry can. After I had turned away, what must Eleanor Leigh do but -say demurely, "I hope you will win your case." I turned back, of course. -"I will," I said, "in both courts." Then I strode away. I went home -feeling somewhat as a man might who, after shipwreck, had reached an -unknown shore. I was in a new land and knew not where I stood or how; or -whether the issue would be life or death. I only knew that I had passed -a crisis in my life and whatever came I must meet it. I was strangely -happy, yet I had had no word of encouragement. - -To have declared one's love has this in it, that henceforth the one you -love can never be wholly indifferent to you. I went home feeling that I -had acquired a new relation to Eleanor Leigh and that somehow I had a -right to her whether she consented or not. My love for her, as ardent as -it had been before, had suddenly deepened. It had, in a way, also become -purer. I went over and over and dwelt on every word she had ever uttered -to me, every gentle look I had ever seen her give, every tender -expression that had illumined her face or softened her eyes, and I found -myself thinking of her character as I had never done before. I planned -how I should meet her next and tried to fancy how she would look and -what she would say. I wondered vaguely what she would think of me when -she reached her room and thought over what I had said. But I soon left -this realm of vague conjecture for the clearly defined elysium of my own -love. Had I known what I learned only a long time afterward--how she -acted and what she thought of on reaching home, I might have been -somewhat consoled though still mystified. - - - - -XXVI - -COLL McSHEEN'S METHODS - - -It is astonishing what a motive power love is. With Eleanor Leigh in my -heart, I went to work on my Tipps case with fury. - -When I applied at the offices of the P. D. & B. D. and asked to be shown -the books of the old company which had been reorganized and absorbed, I -was met first by the polite assurance that there never was such a road -as I mentioned, then that it had been wound up long ago and reorganized. -Next, as I appeared somewhat firm, I was informed that the books had -been burned up in a great fire, spoken of as Caleb Balderstone used to -speak of the Ravenswood fire, as "the fire." This would have been an -irremediable loss, but for the fact that I knew that there had been no -fire since the reorganization of the company. I stated this fact with -more positiveness than was usually employed in those offices and -announced that unless those books were produced without further delay or -misrepresentation, I would file a bill at once which would open the eyes -of a number of persons. This procured for me an interview with an -official of the vice-presidential rank--my first real advance. This -proved to be my old acquaintance, Mr. Gillis, the agent of the Argand -Estate. When I entered he wore an expression of sweet content as of a -cat about to swallow a mouse. It was evident that he meant to have his -revenge on me now. After stating my object in calling, with so much -circumstantiality that there could be no mistake about it, I was -informed by Mr. Gillis, briefly but firmly, that those books were not -accessible, that they were "private property and not open to the -public." - -Stillman Gillis was a wiry, clear-eyed, firm-mouthed, middle-sized man -of about middle age as older men regard it. He had a pleasant address, -perfect self-assurance, and a certain cool impudence in his manner which -I have often observed in the high officials of large corporations. He -had, I knew, been the private secretary and confidential man of Mr. -David Argand. - -"I am aware that the books are private property," I said, "but it -happens that I am myself one of the owners--I represent two very -considerable owners of the stock of the old company." - -He shook his head pleasantly. "That makes no difference." - -I could not help thinking of the turnkey at the jail. It was insolence, -but only of a different sort. - -"You mean to say that it makes no difference whether or not I am a -stockholder when I demand to see the books of the company in which I -hold my interest?" - -"Not the slightest," he admitted. - -"I suppose you have consulted counsel as to this?" - -"Oh! yes; but it was not necessary." - -"Well! you have the books?" - -"Oh! yes." - -"Because some of your people told me that they had been burnt up in a -fire." - -"Did they tell you that?" he smilingly asked. "They did that to save you -trouble." - -"Considerate in them." - -"Of course, we have the books--in our vaults." - -"Buried?" I hazarded. - -He nodded. "Beyond the hope of resurrection." He took up his pen to show -that the interview was ended; and I took up my hat. - -"Do you mind telling me who your counsel is that you consulted in these -matters? I might prevail on him to change his mind." - -"Oh! no. Mr. Collis McSheen is our counsel--one of them." - -"Has he specifically given you this advice?" - -"He has." He turned to his stenographer. "Take this letter." - -"So--o." I reflected a moment and then tilted back my chair. - -"Mr. Gillis--one moment more of your valuable time, and I will relieve -you." - -"Well?" He turned back to me with a sudden spark in his gray eye. -"Really, I have no more time to give you." - -"Just a moment. You are mistaken in thinking you are giving me time. I -have been giving you time. The next time we meet, you will be a witness -in court under subp[oe]na and I will examine you." - -"Examine me? As to what, pray?" His face had grown suddenly dark and -his insolence had turned to anger. - -"As to what you know of the fraud that was perpetrated on the heirs of a -certain Colonel Tipps who built and once largely owned the road I have -spoken of." - -"Fraud, sir! What do you mean?" - -"As to what you know--if anything--of the arrangement by which a certain -Collis McSheen sold out his clients, the said heirs of the said Colonel -Tipps, to a certain Mr. Argand, whose private secretary you then were; -and whose retained counsel he then became." - -"What!" - -His affected coolness was all gone. His countenance was black with a -storm of passion, where wonder, astonishment, rage, all played their -part, and I thought I saw a trace of dismay as well. - -"What do you mean, sir! What do I know of the--the fraud--the -arrangements, if there ever were any such arrangements as those you -speak of?" - -I was the insolent one now. I bowed. - -"That is what I am going to ask you to tell in court. You have the -books, and you will bring them with you when you come, under a -_subp[oe]na duces tecum_. Good-day." I walked out. - -As I approached my office, I saw Collis McSheen bolting out of the door -and down the street, his face as black as a thunder-cloud. He was in -such a hurry that he did not see me, though he nearly ran over me. He -had evidently been summoned by telephone. - -I was working on my bill a few days later when to my surprise Peck -walked into my office. I knew instantly that there was mischief afoot. -He looked unusually smug. He had just arrived that morning, he said. Mr. -Poole had some important interests in a railway property which required -looking after, and he had come on to see about them. There was not much -to do, as the road was being capitally managed; but they thought best to -have some one on the ground to keep an eye on the property, and -remembering our old friendship, he had suggested that I be retained to -represent Mr. Poole, if anything should at any time arise, and Mr. Poole -had, of course, acted on his advice. Mr. Poole had in fact, always been -such a friend of mine, etc. The trouble with Peck was that he always -played a trump even when it was not necessary. - -I expressed my sense of obligation to both him and Mr. Poole, but in my -heart could not help recalling the chances Mr. Poole had thrown away to -help me in the past. - -"What sort of interests are they?" I inquired. - -"Railway interests. He has both stocks and bonds--second mortgage bonds. -But they are as good as gold--pay dividends straight along. The railway -has never failed to increase its net earnings every year for ten years, -and is a very important link in a transcontinental line." - -"What railway did you say it was?" I inquired, for I had observed that -he had not mentioned the line. - -"Oh! ah! the P. D. & B. D." - -"Oh! Well, the fact is, Peck, I don't know that I could represent Mr. -Poole in any litigation connected with that road." - -"Oh! it is not litigation, my dear fellow. You'd as well talk about -litigation over the Bank of England. It is to represent him as a sort of -regular----" - -"I know," I cut him short, "but I think there will be some litigation. -The fact is, I have a claim against that road." - -"A claim against the P. D. & B. D.! For damages, I suppose?" - -"No. To upset the reorganization that took place----" - -Peck burst out laughing. "To upset the reorganization of that road which -took place ten--twenty--How many years ago was it? You'd better try to -upset the government of the United States." - -"Oh! No----" - -"Come now. Don't be Quixotic. I've come here to give you a good case -that may be the beginning of a great practice for you. Why you may -become general counsel." - -"I thought Mr. McSheen was general counsel? You said so, I remember, -when you were here before." - -"Why, ah! yes. He is in a way. You would, of course, be--in a way, -his--ah----" - -"Peck," I said, and I kept my eye on him blandly. "Have you seen Mr. -McSheen since your arrival?" - -"Why, yes, I have. I had to see him, of course, because he is, as I told -you, the general counsel----" - -"In a way?" I interpolated. - -"Yes. And of course I had to see him. It would not have been quite -professional if I had not." - -"And he assents to your proposition?" - -"Oh! yes, entirely. In fact, he--" He paused and then added, "is -entirely satisfied. He says you are an excellent lawyer." - -"Much obliged to him. I beat him in the only case I ever had against -him." - -"What was that?" - -"Oh, a small case against the Argand Estate." - -"Oh! Well now, Glave, don't be Quixotic. Here is the chance of your -life. All the big people--the Argand Estate, Mr. Leigh, Mr. McSheen, Mr. -Canter. Why, it may lead you--no one can tell where!" - -"That is true," I said, quietly. Then quite as quietly I asked: "Did Mr. -McSheen send for you to come on here?" - -"Did Mr. McSheen send for me to come on here? Why, no. Of course, he did -not. I came on to look after Mr. Poole's interest." - -"And to employ me to represent him?" - -"Yes." - -"And to give up my clients as McSheen did?" - -"What!" - -"Peck, tell Mr. McSheen that neither my dog nor myself is for sale." - -"What! I--I don't understand," stammered Peck. - -"Well, maybe so. But you give McSheen the message. He will understand -it. And now I will explain it to you, so you may understand." I -explained briefly to him my connection with the matter and my proposed -line of action; and he naturally endeavored to satisfy me as to the -absolute futility of such a course as I proposed. - -"Why, consider," he said, "the people you will have to contend with--the -idea that you can prove fraud against such persons as Mr. Leigh, the -Argands, Mr. McSheen." - -"I don't expect to prove fraud on Mr. Leigh," I quickly interposed. - -"You will have to sue him. He is a director." - -"I know it. But he came in after the transaction was completed and I -believe knew nothing about it, and he has left the directory. But why -are you so interested in Mr. Leigh? His interests in the street-car -lines are directly opposed to Mr. Poole's." - -"I am not interested in Mr. Leigh, but in you. Why, do you imagine any -judge in this city would even consider a bill charging fraud against -such persons as those I have mentioned? For I tell you they will not. -You will just make a lot of enemies and have your trouble for your -pains." - -"Perhaps so--but Peck, you have not mentioned all the people I shall -have to sue." - -"Who do you mean? I have only mentioned one or two." - -"Mr. Poole." - -Peck's countenance fell. - -"Mr. Poole! What did he have to do with it?" - -"He was one of them--one of those who engineered the reorganization--and -swin--engineered the heirs of Colonel Tipps and some others out of their -interest. Well, give my message to Mr. McSheen," I said, rising, for -Peck's duplicity came over me like a wave. "You may understand it better -now. Neither my dog nor I is for sale. Peck, you ought to know me -better." - -Peck left with that look on his face that used to annoy me so at -college--something that I can best describe as a mechanical simper. It -had no warmth in it and was the twilight between indifference and hate. - -Peck evidently conveyed my message. - -While I worked on my case, Mr. McSheen was not idle. Not long after, I -was walking along a narrow, dark street on my way home from my office -late one night when I was struck by Dix's conduct. It was very strange. -Instead of trotting along zigzag going from corner to corner and -inspecting alleyways for chance cats to enliven life, as he usually did -at night when the streets were fairly empty, he kept close at my heels, -now and then actually rubbing against my knee as he walked, as he did in -the crowded section when I took him along. And once or twice he stopped -and, half turning his head, gave a low, deep growl, a sure signal of his -rising anger. I turned and gazed around, but seeing no cause for his -wrath, concluded that a dog was somewhere in the neighborhood, whom he -detected though I could not see him. I was aware afterward that I had -seen two men pass on the other side of the street and that they crossed -over to my side near the corner ahead of me; but I took no notice of -them. I had a pleasanter subject of thought as I strolled along. I was -thinking of Eleanor Leigh and building air castles in which she was -always the chatelaine. - -Dix's low growl fell on my ear, but I paid no heed. The next second--it -was always a little confused in my mind, the blow came so quickly--I was -conscious of a man--or two men, springing from behind something just at -my side and of Dix's launching himself at them with a burst of rage, and -at the same moment, something happened to me--I did not know what. A -myriad stars darted before my eyes and I felt a violent pain in my -shoulder. I staggered and fell to my knees; but sprang up again under a -feeling that I must help Dix, who seemed to have been seized by one of -the men in his arms, a stout stumpy fellow, while the other was -attempting to kill him with a bludgeon which he carried. I flung myself -on the latter, and seizing him by the throat bore him back against the -wall, when he suddenly twisted loose and took to his heels. Then I -turned on the other who, I thought, was trying to carry Dix off. I -found, however, that instead he was making a fight for his life. At the -moment he dropped a pistol which he was drawing and I sprang for it and -got it. Dix had leaped straight for his throat and, having made good his -hold, had hung on and the man was already nearly strangled. "For God's -sake, take him off. Kill him. I'm choking," he gasped as with weakening -hands he tore at the dog's massive shoulders. "I'm choking." And at -that moment he staggered, stumbled, and sank to his knees with a groan. - -Fearing that he would be killed on the spot, though I was sick and dizzy -from the blow, I seized Dix by the throat and with a strong wrench of -his windpipe at the same time that I gave him an order, I broke his -hold. And fortunately for the ruffian, his heavy coat collar had -partially saved his throat. - -The wretch staggered to his feet with an oath and supported himself -against the wall while I pacified Dix, who was licking his chops, his -hair still up on his back, his eyes still on his enemy. - -"Are you hurt?" I asked, for, though still dizzy, the need to act had -brought my senses back. - -"What business is that of yours?" he demanded brutally. "Wait a minute. -I'll kill that d----d dog." - -The reply to my inquiry was so brutal that my anger rose. - -"You drunken beast! Say a word and I'll give you to him again and let -him worry you like a rat. You see him! Keep back, Dix!" for the dog, -recognizing my anger, had advanced a little and flattened himself to -spring on the least provocation. - -"I didn't mean no offence," the fellow growled. "But I don't like a -d----d dog to be jumpin' at me." - -"You don't! What did you mean by trying to murder me?" - -"I didn't try to murder you." - -"You did. I have no money--not a cent. I'm as poor as you are." - -"I wa'n't after no money." - -"What then? What had I ever done to you that you should be after me?" - -"I wa'n't after you." - -"You were. You tried to kill me. You've cut my head open and no thanks -to you that you didn't kill me." - -"'T wa'n't me. 'T was that other fellow, the skunk that runned away and -left me." - -"What's his name?" - -"I don' know. I never seen him before." - -"What are you lying to me for? What's his name and why was he after me? -Tell me and I'll let you go--otherwise--I'll give you to the police." - -"I'll tell you this--he's a friend of a man you know." - -"Of a man I know? Who?" - -"He's a big man, too." - -"A big man! Do you mean--You don't mean Coll McSheen?" - -"I didn't tell you, did I? You can swear to that. Now give me five -dollars and let me go." - -"I haven't any money at all, but I'll take you to a doctor and get your -wound dressed. I have to go to one, too." - -"I don' want no doctor--I'm all right." - -"No, I won't give you up," I said, "if you'll tell me the truth. I'm not -after you. If I'd wanted to give you up, I'd have fired this pistol and -brought the police. Come on. But don't try to run off or I'll let you -have it." - -He came along, at first surlily enough; but presently he appeared to get -in a better temper, at least with me, and turned his abuse on his pal -for deserting him. He declared that he had not meant to do me any harm, -in fact, that he had only met the other man accidentally and did not -know what he was going to do, etc. - -I was so fortunate as to find my friend Dr. Traumer at home, and he -looked after the wound in the scoundrel's throat and then took a look at -my hurt. - -"You had a close graze," he said, "but I don't think it is anything more -serious than a bad scrape on your head, and a laceration and bruise on -the shoulder." - -While he was working on the footpad I telephoned Langton, got hold of -him and asked him to come there, which he said he would do at once. Just -as the doctor was through with me, Langton walked in. I never saw so -surprised an expression on his face as that when his eyes fell on my -thug. I saw at once that he knew him. But as usual he said nothing. The -thug, too, evidently knew he was an officer; for he gave me one swift -glance of fear. I, however, allayed his suspicion. - -"It's all right," I said, "if you tell me the truth. Who is he?" I asked -Langton. He smiled. - -"Red Talman. What've you been up to?" he asked. - -"Nothin'." - -"I brought him here to have his wound dressed, and he's going directly. -I have promised him." - -He nodded. - -"Coll McSheen put him on to a little job and he bungled it, that's -all." - -Langton actually looked pleased; but I could not tell whether it was -because his warning had been verified or because I had escaped. - -"'T was that other skunk," muttered Talman sullenly. - -"Who? Dutch?" - -The footpad coughed. "Don' know who 'twas." - -"You don't? You don't know who I am either?" - -The man gave him a keen look of inspection, but he evidently did not -know him. Langton leaned over and dropped his voice. "Did you ever -know--?" I could not catch the name. But the thug's eyes popped and he -turned white under his dirt. - -"I didn't have nothin' 't all to do with it. I was in Canady," he -faltered. - -Langton's eyes suddenly snapped. "I know where you were. This -gentleman's a friend of mine," he said. "He saved my life once, and if -you ever touch him, I'll have you--" He made a gesture with his hand to -his throat. "Understand? And not all the bosses in the city will save -you. Understand?" - -"I ain't goin' to touch him. I got nothin' against him." - -"You'd better not have," said Langton, implacably. "Come here." He took -him out into the doctor's front office and talked to him for some little -time while I told the doctor of my adventure. - -"Who is Langton when he is at home?" I asked him. - -He chuckled. "He is the best man for you to have in this city if Coll -McSheen is your enemy. He is a retainer of Mr. Leigh's." - -Just then Langton and the thug came in. - -"Say, I'm sorry I took a hand in that job," said the latter. "But that -skunk that runned away, he put 't up, and he said 's another friend of -his got him to do it." - -"Coll McSheen?" - -"I don't know who 'twas," he persisted. - -I glanced at Langton, and he just nodded. - -"Good-by. If ever you wants a job done----" - -"Get out," said Langton. - -"Don't you give 't to that other skunk. I didn't know. Good-by. Obliged -to you." And he passed through the door which Langton held open for him. - -"It's all right," said the latter as he closed the door. "You had a -close graze--that's one of the worst criminals in the country. He don't -generally bungle a job. But he's all right now. But there are others." - -"My dog saved my life--he got his throat." - -"That's a good dog. Better keep him close to you for a while." - - - - -XXVII - -THE SHADOW - - -A great factory with the machinery all working and revolving with -absolute and rhythmic regularity and with the men all driven by one -impulse and moving in unison as though a constituent part of the mighty -machine, is one of the most inspiring examples of directed force that -the world shows. I have rarely seen the face of a mechanic in the act of -creation which was not fine, never one which was not earnest and -impressive. - -Such were the men, some hundreds of them, whom I used to gaze at and -admire and envy through the open windows of several great factories and -mills along the street through which lay my way to my office. I chose -this street for the pleasure of seeing them of a morning, as with bared -and brawny arms and chests and shining brows, eager and earnest and -bold, they bent over glowing fires and flaming furnaces and rolled -massive red-hot irons hither and yon, tossing them about, guiding them -in their rush and swing and whirl, as though they were very sons of -Vulcan, and ever with a catch of song or a jest, though a swerve of the -fraction of an inch might mean death itself. - -I had come to know some of them well, that is, as well as a man in a -good coat can know men in a workman's blouse, and numbers of them I -began to know in a sort, as day after day I fell in beside them on -their way to or from their work; for, lawyer and gentleman as I was, -they, I think, felt in me the universal touch of brotherhood. We used to -talk together, and I found them human to the core and most intelligent. -Wolffert was an idol among them. They looked to him as to a champion. - -"He has learned," said one of them to me once, "the secret of getting at -us. He takes us man for man and don't herd us like cattle. He speaks to -me on a level, man to man, and don't patronize me." - -He was a strong-visaged, clear-eyed Teuton with a foreign accent. - -"We haf our own home," he said with pride, "and the building company is -'most off my back. If we can but keep at vork we'll soon be safe, and -the young ones are all at school. The sun shines bright after the -storm," he added with a shake of his strong head. - -"Ah, well, we are having good times now. The sun is shining for many of -us. Let us pray that it may keep shining." - -"God grant it," he said, solemnly. - -I was thinking of Miss Eleanor Leigh and the way she had smiled the last -time Heaven had favored me with a sight of her. That was sunshine enough -for me. She had heard of the attack on me and had been so sympathetic -that I had almost courted her again on the spot. John Marvel had made me -out quite a hero. - -The good times, however, of which my mill-friends and I talked were -rapidly passing. In Coll McSheen's offices plans were being laid which -were to blot out the sun for many a poor family. - -Within a day or two I began to observe in the press ominous notices of -an approaching strike. All the signs, it was declared, pointed to it. -Meetings were being held, and the men were rapidly getting out of hand -of their conservative leaders, who, it being on the verge of winter, -were averse to their undertaking the strike at this time, -notwithstanding what they admitted were their undoubted and -long-standing grievances. As I ran over the accounts in many of the -papers I was surprised to find that among these "conservatives" was -mentioned the name of Wringman. It was evident, however, that the -efforts of the conservative element were meeting with success; for in -the workingmen's section through which I passed every day there was not -as yet the least sign of excitement of any kind, or, indeed, of any -dissatisfaction. The railway men all appeared quiet and contented, and -the force in the several large factories along my route whom I mingled -with in my tramp back and forth from my office were not only free from -moroseness, but were easy and happy. The only strikes going on in the -city were those on the lines in which the Argand interests were, and -they were frequently spoken of as "chronic." - -The mills were all running as usual; work was going on; but a shadow was -deepening over the community of the operatives. The strike which the -newspapers had been prophesying for some time was decreed--not yet, -indeed, by the proper authorities; but it was determined on by the -leaders, and its shadow was darkening the entire section. The first -knowledge I had of it was the gloom that appeared on the countenances of -the men I saw in the morning. And when I met Wolffert he was more -downcast than I had seen him in a long time. He had been working night -and day to stave off the trouble. - -"The poor fools!" was all he could say. "They are the victims of their -ignorance." - -From my earliest arrival in the city I had been aware of something about -the laboring element--something connected with the Union, yet different -from what I had been accustomed to elsewhere. I had ever been an -advocate of the union of workingmen to protect themselves against the -tyranny and insolence of those who, possibly by fortuitous -circumstances, were their employers. I had seen the evil of the uncurbed -insolence added to the unlimited power of the boss to take on or to -fling off whom he pleased and, while the occupation lasted, to give or -reduce wages as he pleased. And I had seen the tyrannous exercise of -this power--had seen men turned off for nothing but the whim of a -superior; had seen them hacked about; ordered around as if they had been -beasts of burden, and if they ever murmured, told to go elsewhere, as -though a poor man with a family of children could "go elsewhere" at an -hour's notice; hundreds of men, thousands of men "laid off," because, it -was said, "times were dull," though the returns from their work in good -times had made their employers rich beyond anything their fathers had -ever dreamed of. And I had witnessed with that joy that a man feels in -seeing justice meted out, the rise of a power able to exact, if not -complete, at least, measurable justice for the down-trodden. - -But here was something different. It was still the Union; but bore a new -complexion and a different relation alike to the workingman, the -employer, and the public. It was a strange power and its manifestation -was different. It was not in active exercise when I first went among the -workingmen. Yet it was ever present. A cloud appeared to hang over the -population; there was a feeling that a volcano, as yet quiet, might -burst forth at any time, and no man could tell what the end might be. It -was ever in men's minds, not only the workingmen's, but the tradesmen's, -the middlemen's. It appeared to keep on edge a keen antagonism between -all laboring men as such and all other men. It was nearer and more -important than politics or religion. It had entered into their lives and -created a power which they feared and obeyed. To a considerable extent -it had taken away their liberties, and their lives were regulated by -their relation to it. I saw the growth of the system and was mystified -by it, for I saw individuality and personal liberty passing away--men -deliberately abandoning their most cherished privileges to submit to a -yoke that was being put on them. I noted the decline of excellence in -the individual's work and of ambition for excellence in himself--the -decay of the standard of good workmanship. I marked the mere commercial -question of wages--higher wages irrespective of better work--take the -place of the old standard of improved workmanship and witnessed the -commercialism which in large figures had swept over the employer class, -now creep over and engulf the laboring class to the destruction of all -fine ambition and the reduction of excellence to a dead level of -indifferent mediocrity. They deliberately surrendered individual liberty -and all its possibilities and became the bondmen of a tyrannous dictator -which they set up. - -I was familiar with the loafer and the shirker. He is incident to -humanity. He exists in every calling and rank of life. But it was novel -to me to find an entire class deliberately loafing and shirking and -slurring on principle. I saw gangs of workmen waiting around, shivering -in the wind, for the hour to come when they might take up the tools -which lay at hand with which they might have warmed themselves. I saw -them on the stroke, drop those tools as though the wave of sound had -paralyzed their arms. I saw them leave the stone half set, the rivet -half driven, the bar half turned; the work, whatever it was, half done. -I saw bright, alert, intelligent men, whose bodies were twice and their -brains ten times as active as their fellows', do double work in the same -time as the latter and then dawdle and loaf and yawn empty-handed beside -the unfinished work with which they might readily have doubled their -income. I asked some of my friends why it was and the answer was always -the same: "the Union." - -A strike was going on on the other side of the town, but the direct -results were not yet felt among us, and as the enterprises there where -the trouble existed were in conflict with those on our side, and -therefore our rivals, it did not appear likely that we should be -affected except possibly to our advantage. The population of our -section, therefore, looked on and discussed the troubles with the placid -satisfaction of men who, secure on land, discuss and commiserate those -tossed by storms far off, whose existence is known only by the long -surges that with spent force roll against their shore. They enjoyed -their own good fortune, rejoiced in the good times, and to a -considerable extent spent their earnings like children, almost -indifferent as to the future. - - - - -XXVIII - -THE WALKING DELEGATE - - -Miss Eleanor Leigh had observed for some time that her father was more -than usually grave and preoccupied. She knew the cause, for her father -discussed many matters with her. It was often his way of clarifying his -own views. And when he asked her what she thought of them she felt that -it was the highest compliment she ever received--not that he took her -advice, she knew, but this did not matter; he had consulted her. The -fact gave her a self-reliance wholly different from mere conceit. It -steadied her and furnished her a certain atmosphere of calm in which she -formed her judgment in other matters. Of late, in the shadow of the -clash with his operatives, which appeared to be growing more and more -imminent, he had not advised with her as formerly and the girl felt it. -Was it due to the views which she had been expressing of late touching -the suppression of the laboring class? She knew that her father held -views as to this quite the opposite of those she had been vaguely -groping toward, and while he treated her views with amused indulgence he -considered the whole line of thought as the project of selfish -demagogues, or, at best, of crack-brained doctrinaires. It might suit -for the millennium, but not for a society in which every man was -competing with every other man. In fact, however, the principal reason -for Mr. Leigh's silence was the growing differences between himself and -Mrs. Argand. The struggle had grown until it involved the very existence -of his house. He knew that if his daughter ever realized the truth, that -her aunt's interest had been thrown against him and in favor of men -whose methods he reprobated, it would mean the end of all between them, -and he was unwilling that a breach should come between his daughter and -her mother's sister. - -The status of the present relation with his men was, however, growing -steadily worse and more threatening. The influences at work were more -and more apparent. The press was giving more and more space to the -widening breach, and the danger of a strike on a vast scale that should -exceed anything ever known heretofore was steadily increasing. - -Eleanor knew that this was the cloud that left its shadow on her -father's brow and she determined to make an effort to assist him. She -had revolved the scheme in her little head and it appeared the very -thing to do. - -The approach of Thanksgiving offered an opportunity for an act of -good-will which she felt sure would bear fruit. She had talked it over -with John Marvel and he had glowed at the suggestion. So one day at the -table she broke in on her father's reverie. - -"Father, how many men have you in the mills and on the railway?" - -Her father smiled as he nearly always did when she spoke to him, as, -indeed, most people smiled, with sheer content over the silvery voice -and sparkling eyes. - -"Why, roughly, in the mills about eleven hundred--there may be a few -more or a few less to-day; to-morrow there will not be one." - -"Oh! I hope they won't do that. I have such a beautiful plan." - -"What is it? To give them all they demand, and have them come back with -a fresh and more insolent demand to-morrow?" - -"No, to give them--every one who has a family, a Thanksgiving basket--a -turkey." - -Her father burst out laughing. "A turkey? Better give them a goose. What -put that idea into your little head? Why, they would laugh at you if -they did not fling it back in your face." - -"Oh! no, they would not. I never saw any one who did not respond to -kindness." - -"Better wait till after to-morrow and you will save a lot of turkeys." - -"No, I am serious. I have been thinking of it for quite a while and I -have some money of my own." - -"You'd better keep it. You may come to need it." - -"No, I want to try my plan. You do not forbid it?" - -"Oh, no! If you can avert the strike that they are preparing for, your -money will be a good investment." - -"I don't do it as an investment," protested the girl. "I do it as an act -of kindness." - -"All right, have your way. It can't do any harm. If you succeed, I shall -be quite willing to foot the bills." - -"No, this is my treat," said the girl, "though I shall put your name in -too." - -So, that day Miss Eleanor Leigh spent inspecting and getting prices on -turkeys, and by night she had placed her order with a reliable man who -had promised to provide the necessary number of baskets, and, what is -more, had gotten interested in her plan. She had enlisted also the -interest of John Marvel, who worked like a Trojan in furtherance of her -wishes. And I, having learned from John of her charitable design, gave -my assistance with what I fear was a less unselfish philanthropy. -Happily, disease is not the only thing that is contagious. It was -impossible to work shoulder to shoulder with those two and not catch -something of John Marvel's spirit, not to mention the sweet contagion of -Eleanor Leigh's charming enthusiasm. I learned much in that association -of her cleverness and sound sterling sense as she organized her force -and set them to work. And I was fortunate enough to get one of her -charming smiles. It was when she said, "I want one of the best baskets -for Mrs. Kenneth McNeil," and I replied, "I have already sent it." Thus, -in due time, on the day before Thanksgiving Day, a score of wagons were -busily at work carrying not only the turkeys ordered by Miss Leigh, as a -Thanksgiving present for each family in her father's employ, but with -each one a basket of other things. - -It happened that that night a great meeting of the operatives was held. - -It was largely attended, for though the object had not been stated in -the call, it was well known that it was to consider a momentous subject; -nothing less than an ultimatum on the part of the men to the Company, -and this many of the men felt was the same thing with a strike. The name -of David Wringman, the chief speaker, was a guaranty of this. He was a -man who had forged his way to the front by sheer force, mainly sheer -brute force. From a common laborer he had risen to be one of the -recognized leaders in what had come to be known as the workingmen's -movement. He had little or no education, and was not known to have -technical training of any kind. Some said he had been a machinist; some -a miner; some a carpenter. His past was, in fact, veiled in mystery. No -one knew, indeed, where he came from. Some said he was Irish; some that -he was Welsh; some that he was American. All that was known of him -positively was that he was a man of force, with a gift of fluent speech -and fierce invective, which rose at times and under certain conditions -to eloquence. At least, he could sway an assemblage of workingmen, and, -at need, he was not backward in using his fists, or any other weapon -that came to hand. Speaking of Wringman, Wolffert once said that not the -least of the misfortunes of the poor was the leaders they were forced to -follow. His reputation for brute strength was quite equal to his -reputation as a speaker, and stories were freely told of how, when -opposition was too strong for him in a given meeting, he had come down -from the platform and beaten his opponents into submission with his -brawny fists. It was rumored how he had, more than once, even waylaid -his rivals and done them up, but this story was generally told in -undertones; for Wringman was now too potent and dangerous a man for most -men of his class to offend personally without good cause. His presence -in the city was in itself a sign that some action would be taken, for he -had of late come to be known as an advanced promoter of aggressive -action. To this bold radicalism was due much of his power. He was "not -afraid of the capitalists," men said. And so they established him in his -seat as their leader. To his presence was due a goodly share of the -shadow that had been gathering over the workingmen's part of the section -of the town which I have noted. - -Thus, the meeting on the evening I speak of was largely attended. For an -hour before the time set for it the large hall in the second story of a -big building was crowded, and many who could not get in were thronging -the stairways and the street outside. A reek of strong tobacco pervaded -the air and men with sullen brows talked in undertones, broken now and -then by a contentious discussion in some group in which possibly some -other stimulant than tobacco played a part. - -Wolffert and Marvel had both been trying to avert the strike, and had, I -heard, made some impression among the people. Marvel had worked hard all -day aiding Miss Leigh in her friendly efforts, and Wolffert had been -arguing on rational grounds against a strike at the beginning of winter. -I had been talking over matters with some of my mill-friends who had -invited me to go with them; so I attended the meeting. I had been struck -for some time with the change that had been going on in the workingmen's -districts. As wretched as they had been before they were now infinitely -more so. - -The meeting began, as the meetings of such bodies usually begin, with -considerable discussion and appearance of deliberation. There was -manifest much discontent and also much opposition to taking any steps -that would lead to a final breach. A number of men boldly stood forth to -declare for the half-a-loaf-better-than-no-bread theory, and against -much hooting they stood their ground. The question of a resolution of -thanks for Miss Leigh's baskets aroused a little opposition, but the -majority were manifestly for it, and many pleasant things were said -about her and her father as well, his liberal policy being strongly -contrasted with the niggard policy of the other roads. Then there -appeared the real leader of the occasion, to hear whom the meeting had -been called: Wringman. And within ten minutes he had everything his own -way. He was greeted with cheers as he entered, and he shouldered his way -to the front with a grim look on his face that had often prepared the -way for him. He was undoubtedly a man of power, physical and mental. -Flinging off his heavy overcoat, he scarcely waited for the brief -introduction, undertaken by the Chairman of the occasion, and, refusing -to wait for the cheers to subside, he plunged at once into the midst of -his subject. - -"Workingmen, why am I here? Because, like you, I am a working man." He -stretched out his long arm and swept it in a half circle and they -cheered his gesture and voice, and violent action, though had they -considered, as they might well have done, he had not "hit a lick" with -his hands in a number of years. Unless, indeed, a rumor which had begun -to go the rounds was true, that he had once at least performed work for -the government in an institution where the labor was not wholly -voluntary. - -Then came a catalogue of their grievances and wrongs, presented with -much force and marked dramatic ability, and on the heels of it a tirade -against all employers and capitalists, and especially against their -employer, whom he pictured as their arch enemy and oppressor, the chief -and final act of whose infamy, he declared to be his "attempt to bribe -them with baskets of rotten fowls." Who was this man? He would tell -them. He held in his hand a paper which pictured him in his true -character. Here he opened a journal and read from the article I had -written for Kalender--the infamous headlines of the editor which changed -the whole. This was the man with whom they had to deal--a man who flung -scraps from his table for famishing children to wrangle over with dogs. -There was but one way to meet such insolence, he declared, to fling them -back in his face and make him understand that they didn't want favors -from him, but justice; not rotten fowls, but their own hard-earned -money. "And now," he cried, "I put the motion to send every basket back -with this message and to demand an increase of twenty-five per cent. pay -forthwith. Thus, we shall show them and all the world that we are -independent American workmen earning our own bread and asking no man's -meat. Let all who favor this rise and the scabs sit still." - -It was so quickly and shrewdly done that a large part of the assembly -were on their feet in a second, indeed, many of them were already -standing, and the protest of the objectors was lost in the wild storm of -applause. Over on the far side I saw little McNeil shouting and -gesticulating in vehement protest; but as I caught sight of him a dozen -men piled on him and pulled him down, hammering him into silence. The -man's power and boldness had accomplished what his reasoning could never -have effected. - -The shouts that went up showed how completely he had won. I was thrown -into a sort of maze. But his next words recalled me. It was necessary, -he went on, that he should still maintain his old position. His heart -bled every moment; but he would sacrifice himself for them, and if need -were, he would die with them; and when this time came he would lead them -through flaming streets and over broken plutocrats to the universal -community of everything. He drew a picture of the rapine that was to -follow, which surpassed everything I had ever believed possible. When he -sat down, his audience was a mob of lunatics. Insensible to the folly of -the step I took, I sprang to my chair and began to protest. They hushed -down for a second. I denounced Wringman as a scoundrel, a spy, a hound. -With a roar they set upon me and swept me from my feet. Why I was not -killed instantly, I hardly know to this day. Fortunately, their very -fury impeded them. I knew that it was necessary to keep my feet, and I -fought like a demon. I could hear Wringman's voice high above the uproar -harking them on. Suddenly a cry of "put him out" was raised close beside -me. A pistol was brandished before my face; my assailants fell back a -little, and I was seized and hustled to the door. I found a man I had -noticed near me in the back part of the hall, who had sat with his coat -collar turned up and his hat on, to be my principal ejector. With one -hand he pushed me toward the entrance whilst, brandishing his revolver -with the other, he defended me from the blows that were again aimed at -me. But all the time he cursed me violently. - -"Not in here; let him go outside. Leave him to me--I'll settle him!" he -shouted--and the crowd shouted also. So he bundled me to the door and -followed me out, pushing others back and jerking the door to after him. - -On the outside I turned on him. I had been badly battered and my blood -was up. I was not afraid of one man, even with a pistol. As I sprang for -him, however, he began to put up his weapon, chuckled, and dropped his -voice. - -"Hold on--you've had a close call--get away from here." - -It was Langton, the detective. He followed me down the steps and out to -the street, and then joined me. - -"Well?" he laughed, "what do you think of your friends?" - -"That I have been a fool." - -He smiled with deep satisfaction. "What were you doing in there?" I -asked. - -"Looking after my friends. But I don't feel it necessary to invite them -to cut my throat. One good turn deserves another," he proceeded. "You -keep away from there or you'll find yourself in a bad way. That -Wringman----" - -"Is a scoundrel." - -"Keep a lookout for him. He's after you and he has powerful friends. -Good night. I don't forget a man who has done me a kindness--And I know -that fellow." - -He turned into a by-street. - -The next morning the papers contained an account of the proceedings with -glaring headlines, the account in the _Trumpet_ being the fullest and -most sympathetic and giving a picture of the "great labor-leader, -Wringman, the idol of the workingman," who had, by "his courage and -character, his loftiness of purpose and singleness of aim, inspired them -with courage to rise against the oppression of the grinding corporation -which, after oppressing them for years, had attempted by a trick to -delude them into an abandonment of the measures to secure, at least, -partial justice, just as they were about to wring it from its reluctant -hand." - -It was a description which might have fitted an apostle of -righteousness. But what sent my heart down into my boots was the -republication of the inserted portion of my article on the delayed train -attacking Mr. Leigh. The action of the meeting was stated to be -unanimous, and in proof it was mentioned that the only man who opposed -it, a young man evidently under the influence of liquor, was promptly -flung out. I knew that I was destined to hear more of that confounded -article, and I began to cast about as to how I should get around it. -Should I go to Eleanor Leigh and make a clean breast of it, or should I -leave it to occasion to determine the matter? I finally did the natural -thing--I put off the decision. - -Miss Eleanor Leigh, who had worked hard all the day before despatching -baskets to the hundreds of homes which her kind heart had prompted her -to fill with cheer, came down to breakfast that morning with her heart -full of gratitude and kindness toward all the world. She found her -father sitting in his place with the newspapers lying beside him in some -disorder and with a curious smile on his face. She divined at once that -something had happened. - -"What is it?" she asked, a little frightened. - -For answer Mr. Leigh pushed a paper over to her and her eye fell on the -headlines: - - HONEST LABORING MEN RESENT BRAZEN - ATTEMPT AT BRIBERY - LABOR LEADER'S GREAT APPEAL FOR JUSTICE - LABOR DEMANDS ITS DUES - -"Oh, father!" With a gasp she burst into tears and threw herself in her -father's arms. - -"That is the work of Canter and his partner, McSheen," said Mr. Leigh -grimly. - -It was not the only house in which the sending back of her baskets -caused tears. In many a poor little tenement there was sore weeping -because of the order--in not a few a turkey had not been known for -years. Yet mainly the order was obeyed. - -Next day Mr. Leigh received in his office a notification that a -deputation of the operatives on his road demanded to see him -immediately. He knew that they were coming; but he had not expected them -quite so soon. However, he was quite prepared for them and they were -immediately admitted. They were a deputation of five men, two of them -elderly men, one hardly more than a youth, the other two of middle age. -At their head was a large, surly man with a new black hat and a new -overcoat. He was the first man to enter the room and was manifestly the -leader of the party. Mr. Leigh invited them to take seats and the two -older men sat down. Two of the others shuffled a little in their places -and turned their eyes on their leader. - -"Well, what can I do for you?" inquired Mr. Leigh quietly. His -good-humored face had suddenly taken on a cold, self-contained -expression, as of a man who had passed the worst. - -Again there was a slight shuffle on the part of the others and one of -the older men, rising from his seat and taking a step forward, said -gravely: "We have come to submit to you----" - -His speech, however, was instantly interrupted by the large man in the -overcoat. "Not by a d----d sight!" he began. "We have come to demand two -things----" - -Mr. Leigh nodded. - -"Only two? What may they be, please?" - -"First, that you discharge a man named Kenneth McNeil, who is a -non-union man----" - -Mr. Leigh's eyes contracted slightly. - -"--and secondly, that you give a raise of wages of fifteen per cent. to -every man in your employ--and every woman, too." - -"And what is the alternative, pray?" - -"A strike." - -"By whom?" - -"By every soul in your employ, and, if necessary, by every man and woman -who works in this city--and if that is not enough, by a tie-up that will -paralyze you, and all like you." - -Mr. Leigh nodded. "I understand." - -A slight spark came into his eyes and his lips tightened just a shade, -but when he spoke his voice was level and almost impersonal. - -"Will nothing less satisfy you?" he inquired. - -"Not a cent," said the leader and two of the others looked at him with -admiration. "We want justice." - -Mr. Leigh, with his eye steadily on him, shook his head and a smile came -into his eyes. "No, you don't want justice," he said to the leader, -"you want money." - -"Yes, our money." - -Again Mr. Leigh shook his head slowly with his eyes on him. "No, not -your money--mine. Who are you?" he demanded. "Are you one of the -employees of this road?" - -"My name is Wringman and I am the head of this delegation." - -"Are you an employee of this Company?" - -"I am the head of this delegation, the representative of the Associated -Unions of this city, of which the Union on this road constitutes a -part." - -"I will not deal with you," said Mr. Leigh, "but I will deal with you," -he turned to the other men. "I will not discharge the man you speak of. -He is an exceptionally good man. I happen to know this of my own -personal knowledge, and I know the reason he is not a Union man. It is -because you kept him out of the Union, hoping to destroy him as you have -destroyed other honest men who have opposed you." He turned back to the -leader. - -Wringman started to speak, but Mr. Leigh cut him short. - -"Not a word from you. I am dealing now with my own men. I know you. I -know who your employer is and what you have been paid. You sold out your -people in the East whom you pretended to represent, and now you have -come to sell out these poor people here, on whose ignorance and -innocence you trade and fatten. You have been against McNeil because he -denounced you in the East. Your demand is preposterous," he said, -turning to the others. "It is an absolute violation of the agreement -which you entered into with me not three months ago. I have that -agreement here on my desk. You know what that says, that the scale -adopted was to stand for so long, and if by any chance, any question -should arise, it was to be arbitrated by the tribunal assented to by -yourselves and myself. I am willing to submit to that tribunal the -question whether any question has arisen, and if it has, to submit it -for adjudication by them." - -"We did not come here to be put off with any such hyp--" began the -leader, but before he had gotten his word out, Mr. Leigh was on his -feet. - -"Stop," he said. And his voice had the sharp crack of a rifle shot. "Not -a word from you. Out of this office." He pointed to the door and at the -same moment touched the bell. "Show that man the door," he said, -"instantly, and never admit him inside of it again." - -"Ah, I'm going," sneered Wringman, putting on his hat, "but not because -you ordered me." - -"Yes, you are--because I ordered you, and if you don't go instantly I -will kick you out personally." - -He stepped around the desk and, with his eyes blazing, walked quickly -across the floor, but Wringman had backed out of the door. - -"For the rest of you," he said, "you have my answer. I warn you that if -you strike you will close the factories that now give employment to -thousands of men and young women. You men may be able to take care of -yourselves; but you should think of those girls. Who will take care of -them when they are turned out on the street? I have done it -heretofore--unless you are prepared to do it now, you had better -consider. Go down to my box-factory and walk through it and see them, -self-supporting and self-respecting. Do you know what will become of -them if they are turned out? Go to Gallagin's Gallery and see. Go back -to your work if you are men of sense. If not, I have nothing further to -say to you." - -They walked out and Mr. Leigh shut the door behind them. When he took -his seat a deep gravity had settled on him which made him look older by -years. - -The following day an order for a general strike on the lines operated by -Mr. Leigh was issued, and the next morning after that not a wheel turned -on his lines or in his factories. It was imagined and reported as only a -question of wages between an employer and his men. But deep down -underneath lay the secret motives of McSheen and Canter and their set -who had been plotting in secret, weaving their webs in the -dark--gambling in the lives of men and sad-eyed women and hungry -children. The effect on the population of that section of the city was -curious. Of all sad things on earth a strike is the saddest. And like -other battles, next to a defeat the saddest scene is the field of -victory. - -The shadow had settled down on us; the sunshine was gone. The temper of -every one appeared to have been strained. The principle of Unionism as a -system of protection and defence had suddenly taken form as a system of -aggression and active hostility. Class-feeling suddenly sprang up in -open and armed array, and next came division within classes. The talk -was all of force; the feeling all one of enmity and strife. The entire -population appeared infected by it. Houses were divided against -themselves; neighbors who had lived in friendliness and hourly -intercourse and exchanged continual acts of kindness, discussed, -contended, quarrelled, threatened, and fought or passed by on the other -side scowling and embittered. Sweetness gave place to rancor and -good-will to hate. - -Among those affected by the strike was the family of my old drummer. The -change was as apparent in this little home, where hitherto peace and -content had reigned supreme with Music to fill in the intervals and make -joy, as in the immediate field of the strike. - -The whole atmosphere of happiness underwent a change, as though a deadly -damp had crept in from the outside, mildewing with its baleful presence -all within, and turning the very sunlight into gloom. Elsa had lost her -place. The box-factory was closed. The house was filled with contention. -The musicians who came around to smoke their big pipes and drink beer -with old Loewen were like the rest, infected. Nothing appeared to please -any longer. The director was a tyrant; the first violin a charlatan; the -rest of the performers mostly fools or worse; and the whole orchestra "a -fake." - -This was the talk I heard in the home when I stopped by sometimes of an -evening on my way to my room, and found some of his friends arguing with -him over their steins and pipes, and urging a stand against the director -and a demand that he accede to their wishes. The old drummer himself -stood out stoutly. The director had always been kind to him and to them, -he insisted. He was a good man and took pride in the orchestra, as much -pride as he himself did. But I could see that he was growing soured. He -drank more beer and practised less. Moreover, he talked more of money, -which once he had scarcely ever mentioned. But the atmosphere was -telling; the mildew was appearing. And in this haunt of peace, peace was -gone. - -I learned from Loewen one evening that in the event of the strike not -being settled soon, there was a chance of a sympathetic strike of all -trades, and that even the musicians might join in it, for they had -"grievances also." - -"But I thought Music was not a trade, but a profession, an art?" I said, -quoting a phrase I had overheard him use. He raised his shoulders and -threw out his hands palm upward. - -"Ach! it vas vonce." - -"Then why is it not now?" - -"Ach! Who knows? Because they vill not haf it so. Ze music iss dead--ze -harmony iss all gone--in ze people--in ze heart! Zere iss no more music -in ze souls of ze people. It iss monee--monee--monee--fight, fight, -fight, all ze time! Who can gife ze divine strain ven ze heart is set on -monee always?" - -Who, indeed? I thought, and the more I thought of it the more clearly I -felt that he had touched the central truth. - - - - -XXIX - -MY CONFESSION - - -It is said that every woman has in her nature something feline. I will -not venture on so sweeping an assertion; but I will say that one of the -sex was never excelled by any feline in her ability to torture and her -willingness to tease the victim of her charms. - -When I met Eleanor Leigh next after the memorable session on the dusty -steps, I could not tell for my life what were her feelings toward me. -They were as completely veiled as though she had been accustomed from -her infancy to enfold herself in impenetrable mystery. There was a -subtle change in her manner profoundly interesting to me, but what it -denoted I could not in the least discover, and every effort on my part -to do so was frustrated with consummate art. She did not look at me and -at moments appeared oblivious of my presence. She talked more than ever -before of John Marvel, varied at times by admiring allusions to Leo -Wolffert, until I almost began to hate them both. And all the while, she -was so exasperatingly natural and innocent. A man may be a true friend -to another, ready to serve him to the limit and may wish him all the -happiness in the world, and yet may not desire the girl who has become -his sun, moon and stars to appear to draw her light from his source. So, -presently, like any other worm, I turned. - -"You appear to think that there is no one else in the world like John -Marvel!" I said, fuming inwardly. - -"I do not. In a way, he stands by himself. Why, I thought you thought so -too?" - -"Yes, of course--I do--I mean--I believe you are in--" I hesitated to -finish the sentence, and changed it. "I believe you think more of him -than of any one else." I did not really believe this--I wished her to -deny it; but not she! I was playing at a game at which she was an expert -from her cradle. A subtle change of expression passed over her face. She -gave me a half glance, and then looked down. She appeared to be -reflecting and as my eyes rested on her I became conscious of the same -feeling of pleased wonder with which we gaze into a perfectly clear -fountain whose crystal depths we may penetrate, but not fathom. - -"Yes, I think I do, in a way--I think him--quite wonderful. He appears -to me the embodiment of truth--rugged and without grace--but so -restful--so real--so sincere. I feel that if any great convulsion of -Nature should occur and everything should be overthrown, as soon as we -emerged we should find Mr. Marvel there unchanged--like Truth itself, -unchangeable. If ever I marry, it will be to some man like that--simple -and strong and direct always--a rock." She gazed placidly down while -this arrow quivered in my heart. I wanted to say, "Why, then, don't you -marry him?" But we were already too perilously near the edge for me to -push matters further in that direction. I wished also to say, "Why don't -you marry me?" but I was not conscious at the moment of any remarkable -resemblance to a rock of strength. - -I recall her exact appearance as she waited. She happened to be arrayed -that afternoon in a dark red dress, which fitted perfectly her slim, -supple form, and her hat with a dark feather, and her dark hair about -her brow gave her an air which reminded me of a red rose. It is not, -however, the tint that makes the rose, but the rose itself. The rose is -a rose, whether its petals be red or pink or white. And such she ever -appeared to me. And the thorns that I found about her in no way -detracted from her charms. Though I might have wished her less prone to -show them, I did not find her pursuit the less delicious. - -Just after this I decided to move my quarters. Pushkin was beginning to -come again to the old Drummer's house, I did not know why--and though I -did not meet him I could not bear to be under the same roof with him. I -began to feel, too, the change in the household. Elsa had begun to -change somehow. Instead of the little carols and snatches like -bird-songs that I used to hear before she went to her work, or in the -evening when she returned, there was silence and sometimes sighs, and in -place of smiles, gloom. Her face lost its bloom. I wondered what the -poor thing was distressing herself about. My young Swede, too, whom I -still occasionally saw, appeared to have lost that breezy freshness and -glow which always reminded me of country meadows and upland hay-fields, -and looked downcast and moody. In place of his good-humored smile, his -ruddy face began to wear a glowering, sullen look; and finally he -disappeared. The mother, also, changed, and her voice, formerly so -cheery and pleasant, had a sharper tone than I had ever heard in it -before, and even the old drummer wore a cloudier air, wholly different -from his old-time cheeriness. In fact, the whole house had changed from -the nest of content that it had been, and I began to plan moving to a -better neighborhood which my improving practice appeared to justify. The -chief thing that withheld me was that radiant glimpse of Miss Leigh -which I sometimes got of a morning as she came tripping along the street -with her little basket in her hand, and her face sweet with high -thoughts. It set me up all day; attended me to my office, and filled it -with sunshine and hope. Moreover, I was beginning to find in my -association with John Marvel a certain something which I felt I should -miss. He calmed me and gave me resolution. It appeared strange that one -whom I had always looked down on should so affect me, but I could no -longer hide it from myself. But against this reason for remaining I set -the improvement in my condition that a better lodging-place would -indicate. After a time, my broad-shouldered young Swedish car-driver -came back and I was glad I had remained. Several times in the evening I -found him in the house dressed up with shiny hair, a very bright -necktie, and a black coat, the picture of embarrassed happiness, and -Elsa sitting up and looking prim and, I fancied, a trifle bored, though -it might have been only demureness. When I heard her singing again, I -assumed that it was the latter expression, and not the former, which I -had observed. However, I came in one night and heard Pushkin's voice in -the house and I was again at sea. Elsa in all the gayety of her best -frock and ribbons, dashed by me as I mounted the stair to my room. - -The next evening I was walking home late. I came on two persons standing -in the shadow in a secluded spot. They stopped talking as I passed and I -thought I heard my name whispered. I turned and they were Elsa and -Pushkin. What was he doing talking with her at that hour? I came near -walking up and denouncing him then and there; but I reflected and went -on, and when, a few minutes later, Elsa came in very red and -scared-looking, I congratulated myself on my self-restraint and -sagacity. The next morning was rainy and black, and I took a street car; -and found that the motorman was my blue-eyed young Swede, and that he -was as dark and cloudy that morning as the day. - -That night, I heard Pushkin's voice in the house again, and my old -friend's reply to him in a tone of expostulation. It was hard not to -hear what Pushkin said, for the house was like a sounding-board. Pushkin -was actually trying to borrow money--"more money," and he gave as his -reason the absolute certainty that with this stake--"just this one -loan," he should win an heiress--"One of the richest women in all the -land," he said. He urged as a reason why the old fellow should lend it -to him, that they were both from the same country, and that his -grandfather, when a Minister of the Court, had appreciated Loewen's -music and helped him to get his first place. - -"And he was a shentlemans like me, and you nodings but a common trummer, -hey? And--look here," he said, "I am going to marry a great heiress, and -then I shall not haf to borrow any more. I shall haf all de moneys I -want--my pockets full, and den I vill pay you one--two--t'ree times for -all you haf lend me, hein? And now I, de shentlemans, comes to you, de -common trummer, and calls you mine friend, and swear to pay you -one--two--t'ree times over, certainlee you vill nod refuse me?" - -The rest was in the language of their own country. The argument had its -effect; for I could hear the old drummer's tone growing more and more -acquiescent and the other's laugh becoming more and more assured, and -finally I knew by his voice that he had succeeded. - -I came near rising on the spot and going in and unmasking him. But I did -not. I determined to wait until the next morning. - -Next morning, however, when I came down I received notice that my room -was no longer for rent. The announcement came to me from Mrs. Loewen, -who gave it in her husband's name, and appeared somewhat embarrassed. I -could not see her husband. He had gone out "to meet a gentleman," she -said. Her manner was so changed that I was offended, and contented -myself with saying I would leave immediately; and I did so, only leaving -a line addressed to my old drummer to explain my departure--I was sure -that their action was in some way due to Pushkin. In fact, I was not -sorry to leave though I did not like being put out. My only cause of -regret was that I should miss my walk through the street where the young -school-mistress was shining. I am not sure whether it was a high motive -or a mean one which made me, as I left the house, say to Mrs. Loewen: - -"You are harboring a scoundrel in that man Pushkin. Keep your eyes -open." I saw a startled look in her eyes, but I did not wait to explain. - -I did not feel comfortable that evening as I walked through the streets -to the better quarters which I had taken. I knew that John Marvel would -have said less or more. I half made up my mind to go to John and lay the -matter before him. Indeed, I actually determined to do so. Other things, -however, soon engrossed my thoughts and my time. I had to file my bill -for my old ladies. And so this, like most of my good intentions, faded -away. - -In fact, about this time I was so wholly taken up with my love for the -entrancing ideal that I had clad in the lineaments of Miss Eleanor Leigh -and adorned with her radiance and charm that I had no thought for -anything that was not in some way related to her. My work was suddenly -uplifted by becoming a means to bring me nearer to my ambition to win -her. My reading took on new meaning in storing my mind with lore or -equipping it to fit it for her service; the outward form of nature -displayed new beauty because she loved it. The inward realm of -reflection took on new grace because she pervaded it. In a word, the -whole world became but the home and enshrinement of one being, about -whom breathed all the radiance and sweetness that I found in it. All of -which meant simply that I was truly in love. Content with my love, I -lived in a Heaven whose charm she created. But Love has its winter and -it often follows close on its spring. I had played Fate again and -waylaid her one afternoon as she was returning home from an excursion -somewhere, and persuaded her to prolong her walk with an ease that -lifted me quite out of myself, and I began to have aspirations to be -very brave and good. I wished to be more like a rock, rugged and simple. - -We were walking slowly and had reached a park, and I guilefully led her -by a roundabout path through a part where the shrubbery made it more -secluded than the rest. I can see the spot now as then I saw it: a -curving gray road sloping down under overhanging trees, and a path -dappled with sunlight dipping into masses of shrubbery with a thrush -glancing through them, like a little brown sprite playing hide-and-seek. -As we neared a seat, I suggested that we should sit down and I was -pleased at the way in which she yielded; quite as if she had thought of -it herself. It was almost the first time that I had her quite to myself -in fair surroundings where we were face to face in body and soul. I -felt, somehow, as though I had made a great step up to a new and a -higher level. We had reached together a new resting-place, a higher -atmosphere; almost a new land. And the surroundings were fresh to me in -the city, for we had strayed out of the beaten track. I remember that a -placid pool, shaded by drooping willows and one great sycamore, lay at -our feet, on which a couple of half-domesticated wild-fowl floated, -their graceful forms reflected in the mirror below them. I pointed to -one and said, "Alcyone," and my heart warmed when she smiled and said, -"Yes, at peace. 'The past unsighed for, and the future sure.'" - -A quotation from a poet always pleases me. It is as if one found a fresh -rose in the street, and where it comes from the lips and heart of a girl -it is as though she had uttered a rose. - -"Are you fond of Wordsworth?" I asked. "He seems to me very spiritual." - -"Yes. In fact, I think I am fond of all poetry. It lifts me up out of -the grosser atmosphere of the world, which I enjoy, too, -tremendously--and seems to place me above and outside of myself. Some, -even, that I don't understand. I seem to be borne on wings that I can't -see into a rarer atmosphere that I can only feel, but not describe." - -"That," I said, "as I understand it, is the province of poetry--and -also, perhaps, its test." - -"It has somewhat the same effect on me that saying my prayers has. I -believe in something infinitely good and pure and blessed. It soothes -me. I get into a better frame of mind." - -"I should think your frame of mind was always 'a better frame,'" I said, -edging toward the personal compliment and yet feeling as though I were -endangering a beautiful dream. - -"Oh! you don't know how worse I can be--how angry--how savage." - -"Terribly so, I should think. You look like an ogress." - -"I feel like one sometimes, too," she nodded. "I can be one when I have -the provocation." - -"As--for example?" - -"Well, let me see?--Well,--for example, once--oh! quite a time ago--it -was just after I met you--the very next day--" (My heart bounded that -she could remember the very next day after meeting me--and should set -dates by that important event. I wanted to say, that is the beginning of -my era; but I feared)--"I got into a dreadful passion--I was really -ferocious." - -"Terrible," I jested. "I suppose you would have poisoned your slaves, -like the old Roman Empress--What was her name?" - -"I was angry enough." - -"And, instead, you gave the cat milk in place of cream, or did some such -awful act of cruelty." - -"Not at all. I did nothing. I only burned inwardly and consumed myself." - -"And pray, what was the offence that called forth such wrath, and who -was the wretch who committed the crime?" - -"I had sufficient provocation." - -"Of course." - -"No, I mean really----" - -"What?" - -"Why, it was a piece that appeared in one of the morning papers, a vile -scurrilous sheet that had always attacked my father covertly; but this -was the first open attack, and it was simply a huge lie. And it has been -repeated again and again. Why, only the other day the same paper -republished it with huge headlines and charged that my father was the -cause of all the trouble in the city--my father, who is the best, the -kindest, the most charitable man I ever knew--who has almost beggared -himself trying to furnish facilities to the poor! Oh, I can't bear it! I -wish I had that man under my heel this minute! I would just grind him to -powder! I would!" She turned, her eyes sparkling, her cheeks glowing -with fervor, her face rigid with resolution, her white teeth shut -together as if they were a trap to hold her enemy till death. "Give the -cat milk! I could have poured molten metal down that man's -throat--cheerfully--yes, cheerfully." - -It may be well believed that as she proceeded, the amusement died out of -my face and mind. I turned the other way to keep her from seeing the -change that must have come over me. I was thinking hard and I thought -quickly, as, 'tis said, a drowning man thinks. Life and death both -flashed before me--life in her presence, in the sunlight of those last -weeks, and the shadow of perpetual banishment. But one thing was -certain. I must act and at once. I turned to her and was almost driven -from my determination by the smile in her eyes, the April sunlight -after the brief storm. But I seized myself and took the leap. - -"I wrote that piece." - -She actually laughed. - -"Yes, I know you did." - -"I did--seriously, I wrote it; but----" - -I saw the horror oversweep her face. It blanched suddenly, like the -pallor on a pool when a swift cloud covers the sun, and her hand went up -to her bosom with a sudden gesture as of pain. - -"Oh!" she gasped. The next second she sprang up and sped away like a -frightened deer. - -I sprang up to follow her, to make my explanation to her; but though, -after the first twenty steps, she stopped running and came down to a -walk, it was still a rapid walk, and she was fleeing from me. I felt as -though the gates of Paradise were closing on me. I followed her at a -distance to see that she reached home safely, and with a vain hope that -she might slacken her gait and so give me an excuse to make such -explanation as I could. She, however, kept on, and soon after she passed -beyond the park I saw a trap draw up beside the pavement, and, after a -moment in which the driver was talking to her, a young man sprang out -and throwing the reins to a groom, joined her and walked on with her. In -the light of the street lamp I recognized young Canter. I turned back -cursing him; but most of all, cursing myself. - -It has been well observed that there is no more valuable asset which a -young man can possess than a broken heart. In the ensuing weeks I bore -about with me if not a broken, at least a very much bruised and wounded -one. It is a tragic fact in the course of mortality that a slip of a -girl should have the power to shut the gates of happiness on a man. -There were times when I rebelled against myself at being as big a fool -as I knew myself to be, and endeavored to console myself by reverting to -those wise bits of philosophy which our friends are always offering to -us in our distress from their vantage ground of serene indifference. -There were doubtless as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it, but -I was not after fishing--somehow I could not get a grasp on the idea -that there were as lovely and attractive girls in the world whom I was -likely to meet as Eleanor Leigh, whom I now felt I had lost and might -possibly never recover. - -I walked the streets for some time that evening in a very low state of -mind, and Dix, as he trudged solemnly along with his head now against my -leg, now a step in the rear, must have wondered what had befallen me. By -midnight he looked as dejected as I felt. Even when at length, having -formulated my letter, I took him out for a run, he did not cheer up as -he usually did. That dog was very near a human being. He sometimes -appeared to know just what went on in my mind. He looked so confoundedly -sorry for me that night that I found it a real consolation. He had the -heart of a woman and the eyes of an angel. The letter I wrote was one of -the best pieces of advocacy I ever did. I set forth the facts simply and -yet clearly and, I felt, strongly. I told the plain truth about the -paper, and I had the sense not to truckle, even while I expressed my -regret that my work had been made the basis of the unauthorized and -outrageous attack on her father and the lie about herself. With regard -to the rights of the public and the arrogance of the class that ran the -railways and other quasi-public corporations, I stood to my guns. - -This letter I mailed and awaited, with what patience I could command, -her reply. Several days passed before I received any reply, and then I -got a short, little cool note saying that she was glad to see that I -felt an apology was due to her honored father, and was happy to know -that I was not the author of the outrageous headlines. It was an icy -little reply to a letter in which I had put my whole heart and I was in -a rage over it. I made up my mind that I would show her that I was not -to be treated so. If this was the way in which she received a -gentleman's full and frank amende, why, I would have no more to do with -her. Anger is a masterful passion. So long as it holds sway no other -inmate of the mind can enter. So long as I was angry I got on very well. -I enjoyed the society of my friends and was much gayer to outward -appearances than usual. I spent my evenings with Marvel and Wolffert or -some of my less intimate companions, treated myself and them to the -theatre, and made altogether a brave feint at bravery. But my anger died -out. I was deeply in love and I fell back into a slough of despond. I -thought often of confiding in John Marvel; but for some reason I could -not bring myself to do so. - -Adam driven suddenly out of Paradise with Eve left behind to the -temptation of the serpent will give some idea of what I felt. I had the -consolation of knowing that I had done the right thing and the only -thing a gentleman could have done; but it was a poor consolation when I -looked back on the happiness I had been having of late in the presence -of Eleanor Leigh. And now between her and me was the flaming sword which -turned every way. - -My heart gave a sudden drop into my boots one evening when I came across -an item in the society columns of an afternoon paper, stating that it -was believed by the friends of the parties, that Mr. Canter would, -before very long, lead to the altar one of the reigning belles of the -city. I had always disliked "Society Columns," as the expression of a -latter-day vulgarity. Since then I have detested them. - -I finally determined to try to get an interview with her whose absence -clouded my world, and wrote her a note rather demanding one. As I -received no reply to this, I called one evening to see her, if possible. -The servant took in my card and a moment later returned with the -statement that Miss Leigh was not at home. I was sure that it was not -true. I came down the steps white with rage and also with a sinking of -the heart. For I felt that it was all over between us. - -Those whom the Gods hate they first make mad, and it was by no accident -that the passion of anger and the state of madness have come to be known -by the same terms in our tongue. I have always held since then that -every true lover has something of madness in him while the passion -rages. I could cheerfully have stormed her house and carried Eleanor -Leigh away. I recalled with grim envy William the Conqueror's savage -wooing when he met the Count's daughter who had insulted him and rode -her down, to receive soon afterward her full submission. This somewhat -barbarous form of proving one's passion having passed out of vogue, I -testified my spleen by falling into a state of general cynicism which I -vented so generously that Wolffert finally asked me what had happened to -me, and conjectured that I must have met with a cross in love. This -recalled me sufficiently to myself to make me dissemble my feelings, at -least when in his presence. But I was certainly not rational for some -time, and, sleeping or waking, I was haunted by the voice of the siren -to whom I had fatally listened. What must I do in my folly the next time -I met Miss Leigh, which I did quite accidentally one day on the street, -but carry my head so high and bow so slightly that the next time we met, -which was far from being as accidental as it might have appeared, she -carried her head very high and did not bow at all. It was at some sort -of a fair held for charity--and, ever since then I have hated them. -Feeling assured that Eleanor Leigh would go, I attended myself with no -more charitable object than to benefit a very wretched young lawyer, who -was deeply conscious that he had made a fool of himself the last time he -saw her. When I arrived, she was nowhere to be seen and I was on the -point of leaving when, turning, I found her standing in the midst of a -group, her arms full of flowers, which she was selling. All I have to -say is that since that time I have felt that Pluto was entirely -justified in that little affair in the Sicilian meadows. Thinking to -make the amende for my foolish airiness when I last saw her, I made my -way up to Miss Eleanor Leigh; but as I approached and was in the very -act of speaking to her she turned her back on me. It was a dead cut--a -public insult, as humiliating as she could make it. I left the fair in a -rage which lasted long. As I wandered through the forlorn streets that -night I fed my heart on instances of woman's inconstancy, and agreed -with the royal lover that, "Mal habil qui s'y fie." But it was a poor -occupation and brought me little consolation. In his "Inferno," Dante -has given twelve different and successive circles in the depths of -perdition, each lower than the other. I passed through every one of -them, and with no companion but my own folly. - - - - -XXX - -SEEKING ONE THAT WAS LOST - - -One may not hate his personal enemy; but one should hate an enemy to -mankind. Had I known what fresh cause I had to hate Pushkin, I should -not have been so supine. - -Since I began to work seriously my practice had increased, and I was so -interested in working on my old ladies' case that I was often detained -at my office until late at night; and several times on my way home I -observed a man acting somewhat curiously. He would keep along behind me, -and if I turned back, would turn up a by-street or alley. He was a big, -brawny fellow, and I never saw him except at night. At first, it had -made no impression on me; but at length, I noticed him so often that it -suddenly struck me that he was following me. Rendered suspicious by my -former experience, I began quietly to test him, and was having a very -interesting time leading him around the town, when unexpectedly I -discovered who he was. It was a singular feeling to find oneself -shadowed; to discover that the man who has passed all others -indifferently in the crowd has singled you out and follows you, bound to -you by some invisible thread, tracking you through the labyrinth of the -thoroughfares; disregarding all the thousands who pass with their -manifold interests and affairs, and that, singling you out with no -known reason, he sticks to you through all the mazes of the multitudes. -It comes to you gradually, dawning by degrees; then bursts on you -suddenly with a light that astonishes and amazes. You are startled, -frightened, incredulous; then you suspect, test, and are convinced; you -suddenly spring from obscurity and indifference into an object of -interest to yourself; and then it becomes an intellectual game between -hunter and hunted. New powers awaken, dormant since the days when man -lived in the forest. - -When I awoke to the fact that the big man I had noticed was following -me, for a moment the sensation was anything but pleasant. My hair almost -stirred on my head. The next moment anger took the place of this -feeling--indignation that one should dare to shadow me, to spy on my -actions. I determined to confront the spy and thwart him. It was not -difficult to do; he was an awkward fellow. The game was easier than I -had supposed. One night when I had observed him following me, waiting -until I reached a favorable spot, I turned quickly with my hand on my -pistol, which I had put in my pocket, and faced him under a street lamp, -stepping immediately in front of him and blocking his way. - -"Otto!" - -With a growl he pulled his hat down closer over his brow and, stepping -aside, passed on. I went home in a maze. Why should he follow me? I had -not long to wait before I was enlightened. - -One evening shortly afterward I was about to leave my office when there -was a heavy step outside the door, and without a knock the door flew -open, and the old Drummer entered. He looked so haggard and broken that -I was on my feet in a second. - -"What is the matter?" I gasped. "Is any one dead?" - -"Vorser! Elsa?--Vere iss Elsa?" He stood before me like a wounded bison -at bay, his eyes red with passion. - -"Elsa! What!--'Where is she?' Tell me----?" - -"Fhat haf you done vit my daughter?" - -"Your daughter! What do you mean?" I asked quietly. "I have not seen her -since I left your house. Tell me what has occurred." - -He soon saw that I knew nothing of her, and his face changed. Yet he -hesitated. - -"Ze Count said--" He began hesitatingly and stopped, thinking over -something in his mind. - -It all came to me in a second. That scoundrel! It was all accounted for -now--the change in the family toward me--the notice to leave--the spying -of Otto. Count Pushkin had used me as a blind to cover his own -wickedness. I suddenly burst out into a wrath which opened the old -Drummer's eyes. What I said of Pushkin cannot be repeated. What I -proceeded to do was wiser. Why had I not pitched him out of the window -that first evening, and so have ended his wicked career! I felt as if I -were the cause of my friend's wretchedness; of Elsa's destruction. I sat -the old fellow down in a chair, and made him tell me all the facts. - -He informed me that for some time past he and her mother had noticed -that Elsa had not been the same to Otto, and Otto had been unhappy, and -had thrown up his place; then she had wished to break with him; but they -would not let her. And of late she had been staying out a good deal, -visiting her friends, she said, and when they urged her to marry Otto, -she had always begged off, and Otto was wretched, and they were all -wretched. Count Pushkin had intimated that she was in love with me, and -that I was the cause of her action. They could not believe it. - -"Yet, ze Count--?" The old fellow was not able to go on. I relieved him -and he took up the thread elsewhere, and told of Otto's following me to -find out. And two or three nights before there had been trouble; she had -come in late, and her mother had scolded her, and insisted on knowing -where she had been, and she had told her a lie--and they had insisted on -her carrying out her agreement with Otto, to which she assented. And -this morning she was missing. - -The old fellow broke down again. His grief was almost more for Otto than -for himself. "He iss a good boy; he iss a good boy," he repeated again -and again. - -"Maybe, we were too harsh with her, sir, and now she may be dead." He -was overcome by grief. - -I did not believe she was dead; but I feared for her a worse fate. He -still did not suspect Pushkin. The Count was his friend, he said; he had -known him since his boyhood. - -"I will find her," I said. And I knew I should if I had to choke the -truth out of Pushkin's throat. - -"If you do, I vill bless you, and her mother vill, too!" - -I told him to go home and console her mother. - -"She has gone to see the preacher. He will know how to console her--and -he will help her also." - -"Why do you not go to the police?" - -"Oh! Ze police! Ze police! Efery one say 'Ze police!' Ze police vill nod -do notings for me. I ham nod von Union-man. Zay haf zeir orders. Ven I -hax ze police zay say, 'Don't vorry, Elsa vill come home by-m-by, ven -she get readee.'" - -I had heard the same thing said about the police, and recalled what I -had heard McSheen say to Wringman about keeping them from interfering. -But I felt that they were probably right in their views about Elsa. - -I had recourse to my detective again, and gave him all the information I -possessed. - -"Oh! We'll find out where she is," he said, with that inscrutably placid -look on his face which I had learned was the veil under which he masked -both his feelings and his purposes. "You can tell her father she isn't -dead." This in answer to the old man's suggestion that she had been -murdered, which I had repeated. Then he added, "But there are worse -things than death." - -His eyes glistened and he buttoned up his coat in a way he had when -there was any sharp work on hand. It always reminded me of a duellist. -In a few days he had a clew to the lost girl, and justified my -suspicions. - -It was as I feared. Pushkin had inveigled her from her home and had -taken her to a house which, if not precisely what I apprehended, was not -less vile. It was one of those doubly disreputable places which, while -professing to be reasonably respectable, is really more dangerous than -the vilest den. The girl was possibly not actually at the place now, but -had been there. Getting some suspicion of the place, she had insisted on -leaving, but the woman of the house, said Langton, knew where she was. - -"She is a hard one to handle. She has protection." - -"Of the police?" - -"Of those who control the police. She has powerful friends." - -"I don't care how powerful they are, I will get that girl," I said. - -I hesitated what to do. I had not wholly abandoned hope of making up my -trouble with Eleanor Leigh. I did not wish my name to be mixed up in a -scandal which probably would get into the papers. I determined to -consult John Marvel, and I said so to Langton. - -"You mean the preacher? Won't do any harm. He's straight. He's helping -to hunt for her, too. I saw him just after I located her, and he had -already heard." - -I determined to go and see him, and told Langton to keep on following up -his clew. When I went to Marvel's house, however, he was not at home. He -had been away all day, since early morning, the girl who opened the door -told me. I went to the police station. Marvel had been there and made a -complaint about a house, and they were going to send a man around to -investigate. - -He was a terrible crank, that preacher was, but all the same he was a -good sort of a fellow, the officer said. Some people thought he was too -meddlesome and mixed up too much with affairs that did not concern him, -but for his part, he had seen him do things and go where it took a man -to go. As the officer was going in a short while, I determined to -accompany him, so waited an hour or so till he was detailed, and then -set out. When we arrived the place, for all outward signs of evil, might -have been a home for retired Sunday-school teachers--a more decent and -respectable little hotel in a quiet street could not have been found in -town. Only the large woman, with heightened complexion, Mrs. Snow, who, -at length, appeared in answer to the summons of the solemn officer, -seemed to be excited and almost agitated. She was divided between -outraged modesty and righteous indignation. The former was exhibited -rather toward me, the latter toward the officer. But this was all. She -swore by all the Evangelists that she knew nothing of the girl, and with -yet more vehemence that she would have justice for this outrage. She -would "report the officer to the Captain and to his Honor the Mayor, and -have the whole --th precinct fired." The officer was very apologetic. -All we learned was that, "A lady had been brought there by a gentleman -who said he was her husband, but she had refused to let her in. She did -not take in people she did not know." As there was nothing to -incriminate her, we left with apologies. - -The strongest ally a man can enlist in any cause is a clear-headed, -warm-hearted woman. In all moral causes they form the golden guard of -the forces that carry them through. John Marvel's absence when I called -to consult him was due to his having got on the trace of Elsa. Another -of my friends had also got on her trace, and while I was hesitating and -thinking of my reputation, they were acting. As soon as he learned of -Elsa's disappearance he consulted the wisest counsellor he knew. He -went, with rare good sense, to Eleanor Leigh. He had a further reason -for going to her than merely to secure her aid. He had heard my name -connected with the affair, and old John had gone to set me straight with -her. He did not know of the trouble at the Charity Fair, and Miss Leigh -did not enlighten him. Miss Eleanor Leigh, having learned through Marvel -that the Loewens were in great trouble, as soon as her school was out -that day, went to the Loewens' house to learn what she could of the -girl, with a view to rendering all the aid she could. A new force had -been aroused in her by John Marvel. Precisely what she learned I never -knew, but it was enough, with what she had gleaned elsewhere, to lead to -action. What she had learned elsewhere pointed to a certain place in -town as one where she might secure further information. It was not a -very reputable place--in fact, it was a very disreputable place--part -saloon, part dance-hall, part everything else that it ought not to have -been. It was one of the vilest dens in this city of Confusion, and the -more vile because its depths were screened beneath a mass of gilding and -tinsel and glitter. It lay on one of the most populous streets and, -dazzling with electric lights, furnished one of the showiest places on -that street. It was known as "The Gallery," an euphemism to cover a line -of glaring nude figures hung on the walls, which, by an arrangement of -mirrors, were multiplied indefinitely. Its ostensible owner was the same -Mr. Mick Raffity, who kept the semi-respectable saloon opening on the -alley at the back of the building where I had my office. Its keeper was -a friend of Mr. Raffity's, by the name of Gallagin, a thin, middle-aged -person with one eye, but that an eye like a gimlet, a face impervious to -every expression save that which it habitually wore: a mixture of -cunning and ferocity. - -The place was crowded from a reasonable hour in the evening till an -unreasonable hour in the morning, and many a robbery and not a few -darker crimes were said to have been planned, and some perpetrated, -around its marble tables. - -At the side, in a narrow street, was a private entrance and stairway -leading to the upper stories, over the door of which was the sign, -"Ladies' Entrance." And at the rear was what was termed by Mr. Gallagin, -a "Private Hotel." - -Young women thronged the lower floor at all hours of the night, but no -woman had ever gone in there and not come out a shade worse, if -possible, than when she entered. The Salvation Army had attempted the -closing of this gilded Augean Stable, but had retired baffled. Now and -then a sporadic effort had been made in the press to close or reform it, -but all such attempts had failed. The place was "protected." The police -never found anything amiss there, or, if they did, were promptly found -to have something amiss with their own record. To outward appearance it -was on occasions of inspection as decorous as a meeting-house. It was -shown that the place had been offered for Sunday afternoon services, and -that such services had actually been held there. In fact, a -Scripture-text hung on the wall on such occasions, while close at hand -hung the more secular notice that "No excuse whatever would be taken if -one lady or gentleman took another lady's or gentleman's hat or wrap." - -This gilded saloon on the evening of the day I called on John Marvel -was, if anything, more crowded than usual, and into it just as it was -beginning to grow gay and the clouds of cigarette and cigar smoke were -beginning to turn the upper atmosphere to a dull gray; just as the -earlier hum of voices was giving place to the shrieking laughter and -high screaming of half-sodden youths of both sexes, walked a young -woman. She was simply dressed in a street costume, but there was that -about her trim figure, erect carriage, and grave face which marked her -as different from the gaudy sisterhood who frequented that resort of -sin, and as she passed up through the long room she instantly attracted -attention. - -The wild laughter subsided, the shrieks died down, and as if by a -common impulse necks were craned to watch the newcomer, and the -conversation about the tables suddenly hushed to a murmur, except where -it was broken by the outbreak of some half-drunken youth. - -"Who is she? What is she?" were questions asked at all tables, along -with many other questions and answers, alike unprintable and incredible. -The general opinion expressed was that she was a new and important -addition to the soiled sisterhood, probably from some other city or some -country town, and comments were freely bandied about as to her future -destination and success. Among the throng, seated at one of the tables, -was a large man with two bedizened young women drinking the champagne he -was freely offering and tossing off himself, and the women stopped -teasing him about his diamond ring, and rallied him on his attention to -the newcomer, as with head up, lips compressed, eyes straight before -her, and the color mounting in her cheek, she passed swiftly up the room -between the tables and made her way to the magnificent bar behind which -Mr. Gallagin presided, with his one eye ever boring into the scene -before him. Walking up to the bar the stranger at once addressed Mr. -Gallagin. - -"Are you the proprietor here?" - -"Some folks says so. What can I do for yer?" - -"I have come to ask if there is not a young woman here--?" She hesitated -a moment, as the bar-keepers all had their eyes on her and a number of -youths had come forward from the tables and were beginning to draw -about her. Mr. Gallagin filled in the pause. - -"Quite a number, but not one too many. In fact, there is just one -vacancy, and I think you are the very peach to fill it." His discolored -teeth gleamed for a second at the murmur of approval which came from the -men who had drawn up to the bar. - -"I came to ask," repeated the girl quietly, "if there is not a young -woman here named Elsa Loewen." - -The proprietor's one eye fixed itself on her with an imperturbable gaze. -"Well, I don't know as there is," he drawled. "You see, there is a good -many young women here, and I guess they have a good many names among -'em. But may I ask you what you want with her?" - -"I want to get her and take her back to her home." - -Mr. Gallagin's eye never moved from her face. - -"Well, you can look around and see for yourself," he said quietly. - -"No, I don't think she would be here, but have you not a sort of a hotel -attached to your place?" - -"Oh! Yes," drawled Mr. Gallagin. "I can furnish you a room, if you have -any friends--and if you haven't a friend, I might furnish you one or two -of them." - -"No, I do not wish a room." - -"Oh!" ejaculated the proprietor. - -"I wish to see Elsa Loewen, and I have heard that she is here." - -"Oh! you have, and who may be your informant?" demanded the bar-keeper, -coldly. "I'd like to know what gentleman has sufficient interest in me -to make me the subject of his conversation." - -"I cannot give you my informant, but I have information that she is -here, and I appeal to you to let me see her." - -"To me? You appeal to me?" Mr. Gallagin put his hand on his thin chest -and nodded toward himself. - -"Yes, for her mother; her father. She is a good girl. She is their only -daughter. They are distracted over her--disappearance. If you only knew -how terrible it is for a young girl like that to be lured away from home -where every one loves her, to be deceived, betrayed, dragged down -while----" - -The earnestness of her tone more than the words she uttered, and the -strangeness of her appeal in that place, had impressed every one within -reach of her voice, and quite a throng of men and women had left the -tables and pressed forward listening to the conversation, and for the -most part listening in silence, the expression on their faces being -divided between wonder, sympathy, and expectancy, and a low murmur began -to be audible among the women, hardened as they were. Mr. Gallagin felt -that it was a crucial moment in his business. Suddenly from under the -fur came the fierce claw and made a dig to strike deep. - -"To hell with you, you d----d ----! I know you and your d----d sort--I -know what you want, and you'll get it in one minute. Out of my place, or -I'll pitch you in the gutter or into a worse hole yet!" He made a -gesture with one hand such as a cat makes with its claws out. - -A big man with a hard gleam in his eye moved along the edge of the bar, -his face stolid and his eyes on the newcomer, while the throng fell back -suddenly and left the girl standing alone with a little space about her, -her face pale, and her mouth drawn close under the unexpected assault. -In another second she would, without doubt, have been thrown out of the -place, or possibly borne off to that worse fate with which she had been -threatened. But from the throng to her side stepped out a short, -broad-shouldered man, with a sodden face. - -"Speak her soft, Galley, ---- ---- you! You know who she is! That is the -Angel of the Lost Children. Speak her soft or ---- ---- you! you'll have -to throw me out, too." The sodden face took on suddenly a resolution -that gave the rough a look of power, the broad shoulders were those of -an athlete, and the steady eye was that of a man to be reckoned -with--and such was "Red Talman" when aroused. - -[Illustration: "Speak her soft, Galley."] - -The name he had given was repeated over the throng by many, doubtless, -who had not heard of her, but there were others who knew, and told of -the work that Eleanor Leigh had been doing in quarters where any other -woman of her class and kind had never showed her face; of help here and -there; a hand lent to lift a fallen girl; of succor in some form or -another when all hope appeared to be gone. - -It was a strange champion who had suddenly stepped forward into the -arena to protect her, but the girl felt immediately that she was safe. -She turned to her champion. - -"I thank you," she said simply. "If you wish to help me, help me get -hold of this poor girl whom I have come for. Ask him to let me see her, -if only for one moment, and I may save her a life of misery." - -The man turned to the proprietor. "Why don't you let her see the girl?" -he said. - -Gallagin scowled at him or winked, it could scarcely be told which. -"What the ---- is it to you? Why can't you keep your mouth for your own -business instead of interfering with other folks? You have seen trouble -enough doing that before." - -"Let her see the girl." - -"What business is it of yours whether I do or not?" - -"Just this--that when I was away and my wife was starvin', and you never -givin' her nothin', and my little gal was dyin', this here lady came -there and took care of 'em--and that's what makes it my business. I -don't forgit one as helped me, and you know it." - -"Well, I'll tell you this, there ain't no gal of that name here. I don't -know what she's talkin' about." - -"Oh! Come off! Let her see the gal." - -"You go up there and look for yourself," said the proprietor. "Take her -with you if you want to and keep her there." - -"Shut your mouth, d----n you!" said Talman. He turned to Miss Leigh. - -"She ain't here, lady. He'd never let me go up there if she was there. -But I'll help you find her if you'll tell me about her. You can go -home now. I'll see you safe." - -"I am not afraid," said the girl. "My carriage is not far off," and with -a pleasant bow and a word of renewed supplication to the proprietor, -whose eye was resting on her with a curious, malign expression, she -turned and passed back through the room, with her gaze straight ahead of -her, while every eye in the room was fastened on her; and just behind -her walked the squatty figure of Red Talman. A few doors off a carriage -waited, and as she reached the door she turned and gave him the name of -the girl she was seeking, with a little account of the circumstances of -her disappearance and of her reason for thinking she might be at -Gallagin's place. She held out her hand to the man behind her. - -"I don't know your name or what you alluded to, but if I can ever help -any of your friends I shall be very glad to do what I can for them." - -"My name's Talman. You've already done me a turn." - -"'Talman!' 'Red--'! Are you the father of my little girl?" - -"That's me." - -"What I said just now I mean. If you want help, let me know, or go and -see Mr. Marvel, the preacher, on the West side--you know him--and you -will get it. And if you can find anything of that poor girl I shall be -eternally grateful to you. Good-night." - -"Good-night, ma'am." - -The man watched the carriage until it had disappeared around the corner -and then he returned to the saloon. He walked up to the bar, and -Gallagin advanced to meet him. - -"If you are lyin' to me," he said, "you better not let me know, but you -better git that gal out of your place and into her home, or the first -thing you know there will be a sign on that door." - -The other gave a snarl. - -"I am puttin' you wise," said Talman. "There's trouble brewing. That's -big folks lookin' for her." - -"I guess Coll McSheen is somethin' in this town still. But for him you -wouldn' be walkin' around." - -"But for--! He's a has-been," said Talman. "He's shot his bolt." - -"You ought to know," sneered Gallagin. - -"I do." - -"That the reason you take no more jobs?" - -"It's a good one." - -"Have a drink," said Gallagin, with a sudden change of manner, and he -did him the honor to lift a bottle and put it on the bar. - -"I ain't drinkin'. I've got work to do." - -"Who's your new owner?" - -"Never mind, he's a man. Send the gal home or you'll be pulled before -twenty-four hours." - -"You're runnin' a Sunday-school, ain't you?" - -"No, but I'm done workin' for some folks. That's all. So long. Git her -out of your house if she's here. Git her out of your house." - -He walked down the room, and as he passed a table the big man with the -two women accosted him. - -"Who's your friend?" he asked with a sneer. It was Wringman, who having -finished his labors for the day in proving to famished strikers how much -better off they were than formerly, was now refreshing himself in one of -his favorite haunts, at his favorite occupation. - -Talman stopped and looked at him quietly, then he said: "That man up -there"--with his thumb over his shoulder he pointed toward the -bar--"that man there has been a friend of mine in the past and he can -ask me questions that I don't allow folks like you to ask me. See? I -have known a man to git his neck broke by buttin' too hard into other -folks' business. See?" - -Wringman, with an oath, started to get out of his chair, but his -companions held him down, imploring him to be quiet, and the next moment -the big bouncer from the bar was standing beside the table, and after a -word with him Talman made his way through the crowd and walked out of -the door. - -The bar-keeper beckoned to his bouncer and the two held a muttered -conference at the end of the bar. "He's gittin' too big for his -breeches," said the bar-keeper as he turned away. "He'll git back there -if he fools with me and pretty quick too." - - - - -XXXI - -JOHN MARVEL'S RAID - - -Had any one of the many detectives who were engaged in all sorts of -work, legitimate and otherwise, in the limits of that great city, been -watching among the half-sodden group of loafers and night-walkers who -straggled through the side street on which opened the "Ladies' Entrance" -of Mr. Gallagin's establishment along toward the morning hours, he might -have seen a young woman brought from the door of the "ladies' entrance," -supported by two persons, one a man and one a woman, and bodily lifted -into a disreputable looking hack of the type known as a "night-hawk," -while the dingy passers-by laughed among themselves and discussed how -much it had taken to get the young woman as drunk as that. But there was -no detective or other officer on that street at that hour, and but for -the fact that a short, squatty man, nursing a grievance against an old -pal of his, and turning over in his mind the unexpected kindness of a -young woman and a threadbare preacher in an hour when all the rest of -the world--even his pals in iniquity--appeared to have turned against -him, was walking through the street with a dim idea of beginning a -quarrel with the man who had deserted him, the destination of the -drunken woman might never have been known. Red Talman's heart, however, -callous as it was, foul with crimes too many and black to catalogue, had -one single spot into which any light or feeling could penetrate. This -was the secret corner, sacred to the thought of his one child, a little -girl who alone of all the world truly thought him a good man. For John -Marvel, who had helped his wife and child when he lay in prison under -long sentence, and had been kind to him, he entertained a kindly -feeling, but for the young lady who had taken his little girl and taught -her and made her happy when the taunts of other children drove her from -the public school, he had more than a liking. She and John Marvel alone -had treated him in late years as a man and a friend, and a dim hope -began to dawn in his mind that possibly he might yet be able to save his -girl from the shame of ever truly knowing what he had been. - -So, when the man, with his hat over his eyes, who had helped put the -young woman in the carriage, re-entered the house and the drunken woman -was driven off with her companion, Red Talman, after a moment of -indecision, turned and followed the cab. He was not able to keep up with -it, as, though the broken-kneed horses went at a slow gait, they soon -outdistanced him, for he had to be on the watch for officers; but he -knew the vehicle, and from the direction it took he suspected its -destination. He turned and went back toward Gallagin's. When he reached -the narrow, ill-lighted street, on which the side entrance opened, he -slipped into the shadow at a corner and waited. An hour later the hack -returned, a woman got out of it and, after a short altercation with the -driver, ran across the pavement and entered the door. As the hack -turned, Red Talman slipped out of the shadow and walked up to the front -wheel. - -"Which way you goin'?" he asked the driver, who recognized him. - -"Home," he said. - -"Gimme a ride?" - -"Git up." He mounted beside him and drove with him to a dirty saloon in -a small street at some little distance, where he treated him and let him -go. A half-hour afterward he rang the bell of the family hotel which I -had visited with an officer the day before, and asked to see the woman -of the house. She could not be seen, the woman said who opened the door. - -"Well, give her this message, then. Tell her that Galley says to take -good care of the girl that he just sent around here and to keep her -dark." - -"Which one?" demanded the woman. - -"The one as was doped, that come in the hack." - -"All right." - -"That's all," said Talman, and walked off. - -The self-constituted detective pondered as he passed down through the -dark street. How should he use his information? Hate, gratitude, and the -need for money all contended in his breast. He had long harbored a -feeling of revenge against McSheen and Raffity and his understrapper, -Gallagin. They had deserted him in his hour of need and he had come near -being hanged for doing their work. Only his fear of McSheen's power had -kept him quiet. The desire for revenge and the feeling of gratitude -worked together. But how should he use his knowledge? It behooved him to -be prudent. Coll McSheen and Mick Raffity and Mel Gallagin were powerful -forces in the world in which he moved. They could land him behind the -bars in an hour if they worked together. At last he solved it! - -He would go to a man who had always been kind to him and his. Thus it -was, that just before light that morning John Marvel was awakened by a -knock on his door. A man was below who said a sick person needed his -services. When he came down into the street in the dim light of the -dawning day, there was a man waiting in the shadow. He did not recognize -him at first, but he recalled him as the man told the object of his -visit at such an hour, and John was soon wide-awake. Still he could -scarcely believe the story he was told. - -"Why, she can't be there," he protested. "A friend of mine was there to -look for her day before yesterday with the police, and she was not -there." - -"She is there now, and if you pull the place you'll get her all right," -asserted the other. - -"I'll go there myself." - -"No use goin' by yourself." - -"I'll get the police----" - -"The police!" The other laughed derisively. "They don't go after the Big -Chief's friends--not when he stands by 'em." - -"The 'Big Chief'?" - -"Coll McSheen." - -"Mr. McSheen!" - -"He's _it_!" - -"It? What? I don't understand." - -"Well, don't bring me into this." - -"I will not." - -"He's at the bottom of the whole business. He's the lawyer 't gives the -dope and takes care of 'em. He owns the place--'t least, Mick Raffity -and Gallagin and Smooth Ally own the places; and he owns them. He knows -all about it and they don't turn a hand without him. Oh! I know him--I -know 'em all!" - -"You think this is the girl the lady was looking for?" - -"I don't know. I only know she went there, and Gallagin showed his -teeth, and then I called him down and got the gal out. I skeered him." - -"Well, we'll see." - -"Well, I must be goin'. I've told you. Swear you won't bring me into it. -Good-night." - -"I will not." - -The man gazed down the street one way, then turned and went off in the -other direction. John was puzzled, but a gleam of light came to him. -Wolffert! Wolffert was the man to consult. What this man said was just -what Wolffert had always insisted on: that "the White Slave traffic" was -not only the most hideous crime now existing on earth, but that it was -protected and promoted by men in power in the city, that it was, indeed, -international in its range. He remembered to have heard him say that a -law had been passed to deal with it; but that such law needed the force -of an awakened public conscience to become effective. - -Thus it was, that that morning Wolffert was aroused by John Marvel -coming into his room. In an instant he was wide-awake, for he, too, knew -of the disappearance of Elsa, and of our fruitless hunt for her. - -"But you are sure that this woman is Elsa?" he asked as he hurriedly -dressed. - -"No--only that it is some one." - -"So much the better--maybe." - -An hour later Wolffert and John Marvel were in a lawyer's office in one -of the great new buildings of the city, talking to a young lawyer who -had recently become a public prosecutor, not as a representative of the -city, but of a larger power, that of the nation. He and Wolffert were -already friends, and Wolffert had a little while before interested him -in the cause to which he had for some time been devoting his powers. It -promised to prove a good case, and the young attorney was keenly -interested. The bigger the game, the better he loved the pursuit. - -"Who's your mysterious informant, Mr. Marvel?" he asked. - -"That I cannot tell you. He is not a man of good character, but I am -sure he is telling me the truth." - -"We must make no mistakes--we don't want these people to escape, and the -net will catch bigger fish, I hope, than you suspect. Why not tell?" - -"I cannot." - -"Well, then I shall have to get the proof in some other way. I will act -at once and let you hear from me soon. In fact, I have a man on the case -now. I learned of it yesterday from my cousin, you know. She is deeply -interested in trying to break up this vile business, and a part of what -you say I already knew. But the clews lead to bigger doors than you -dream of." - -John and Wolffert came away together and decided on a plan of their own. -Wolffert was to come to see me and get Langton interested in the case, -and John was to go to see Langton to send him to me. He caught Langton -just as he was leaving his house to come to my office and walked a part -of the way back with him, giving him the facts he had learned. He did -not know that Langton was already on the case, and the close-mouthed -detective never told anything. - -When they parted, Langton came to my office, and together we went to the -district attorney's, who, after a brief talk, decided to act at once, -and accordingly had warrants issued and placed in the hands of his -marshal. - -"I have been trying for some time to get at these people," he said, "and -I have the very man for the work--an officer whom Coll McSheen turned -out for making trouble for the woman who keeps that house." - -Aroused by my interest in the Loewens and by what Langton had told me of -Miss Leigh's daring the night before, I secured the marshal's consent to -go along with them, the district attorney having, indeed, appointed me a -deputy marshal for the occasion. - -The marshal's face had puzzled me at first, but I soon recognized him as -the officer I had met once while I watched a little child's funeral. -"They were too many for me," he said in brief explanation. "Mrs. Collis -had me turned out. She had a pull with the Big Chief. And when I went -for his friend, Smooth Ally, he bounced me. But I'm all right now, Mr. -Semmes knows me, and Coll McSheen may look out. I know him." - -I do not know what might have happened had we been a little later in -appearing on the scene. As, after having sent a couple of men around to -the back of the block, we turned into the street we saw three or four -men enter the house as though in a hurry. We quickened our steps, but -found the door locked, and the voices within told that something unusual -was going on. The high pitched voice of a woman in a tirade and the low -growls of men came to us through the door, followed by the noise of a -scuffle and the smashing of furniture; a thunderous knock on the door, -however, brought a sudden silence. - -As there was no response either to the knock or ring, another summons -even more imperative was made, and this time a window was opened above, -a woman thrust her head out and in a rather frightened voice asked what -was wanted. The reply given was a command to open the door instantly, -and as the delay in obeying appeared somewhat unreasonable, a different -method was adopted. The door was forced with an ease which gave me a -high idea of the officer's skill. Within everything appeared quiet, and -the only circumstance to distinguish the house from a rather tawdry -small hotel of a flashy kind was a man and that man, John Marvel, with a -somewhat pale face, his collar and vest torn and a reddish lump on his -forehead, standing quietly in the doorway of what appeared to be a -sitting-room where the furniture had been upset, and the woman whom I -had formerly seen when I visited the place with a police officer, -standing at the far end of the hall in a condition of fright bordering -on hysterics. I think I never saw men so surprised as those in our party -were to find a preacher there. It was only a moment, however, before the -explanation came. - -"She's here, I believe," said John, quietly, "unless they have gotten -her away just now." - -His speech appeared to have unchained the fury of the woman, for she -swept forward suddenly like a tornado, and such a blast of rage and -abuse and hate I never heard pour from a woman's lips. Amid tears and -sobs and savage cries of rage, she accused John Marvel of every crime -that a man could conceive of, asserting all the while that she herself -was an innocent and good woman and her house an absolutely proper and -respectable home. She imprecated upon him every curse and revenge which -she could think of. I confess that, outraged as I was by the virago's -attack, I was equally surprised by John Marvel's placidness and the -officer's quiet contempt. The only thing that John Marvel said was: - -"There were some men here just now." - -"Liar! Liar! Liar!" screamed the woman. "You know you lie. There is not -a man in this house except that man, and he came here to insult me--he -who comes here all the time--you know you do, ---- ---- ----!" - -"Where are the men?" demanded the marshal quietly, but he got no answer -except her scream of denial. - -"They were after me," said John, "but when you knocked on the door they -ran off." - -Another outpour of denial and abuse. - -"Come on, men," said the marshal. - -John Marvel had been troubled by no such scruples as had appeared to me. -He was not afraid for his reputation as I had been for mine. And on his -way home he had had what he felt to be, and what, far be from me to say -was not, a divine guidance. A sudden impulse or "call" as he termed it, -had come to him to go straight to this house, and, having been admitted, -he demanded the lost girl. The woman in charge denied vehemently that -such a girl had ever been there or that she knew anything of her, -playing her part of outraged modesty with a great show of sincerity. But -when Marvel persisted and showed some knowledge of the facts, she took -another tack and began to threaten him. He was a preacher, she said, and -she would ruin him. She would call in the police, and she would like to -see how it would look when an account came out in the newspapers next -morning of his having visited what he thought a house of ill repute. She -had friends among the police, and bigger friends even than the police, -and they would see her through. - -John quietly seated himself. A serene and dauntless resolution shone -from his eyes. "Well, you had better be very quick about it," he said, -"for I have already summoned officers and they will be here directly." - -Then the woman weakened and began to cringe. She told him the same story -that she had told me and the policeman when we had called before. A -young woman had come there with a gentleman whom she called her husband, -but she would not let her stay because she suspected her, etc., etc. - -"Why did you suspect her?" - -"Because, and because, and because," she explained. "For other reasons, -because the man was a foreigner." - -John Marvel, for all his apparent heaviness, was clear-headed and -reasonable. He was not to be deceived, so he quietly sat and waited. -Then the woman had gone, as she said, to call the police, but, as was -shown later, she had called not the police, but Gallagin and Mick -Raffity and the man who stood behind and protected both of these -creatures and herself, and the men who had come in response had been not -officers of the police, but three scoundrels who, under a pretence of -respectability, were among the most dangerous instruments used by Coll -McSheen and his heelers. Fortunately for John Marvel we had arrived in -the nick of time. All this appeared later. - -Unheeding her continued asseverations and vituperation, the marshal -proceeded to examine the house. The entire lower floor was searched -without finding the woman. In the kitchen below, which was somewhat -elaborate in its appointments, a number of suspiciously attired and more -than suspicious looking young women were engaged, apparently, in -preparing to cook, for as yet the fire was hardly made, and in scrubbing -industriously. Up-stairs a number more were found. For the moment -nothing was said to them, but the search proceeded. They were all -manifestly in a state of subdued excitement which was painful to see, as -with disheveled hair, painted faces and heaving bosoms, they pretended -to be engaged in tasks which manifestly they had rarely ever attempted -before. Still there was no sign of Elsa, and as the proprietor declared -that we had seen every room except that in which her sick daughter was -asleep, it looked as though Elsa might not have been there after all. - -"Let us see your daughter," said the officer. - -This was impossible. The doctor had declared that she must be kept -absolutely quiet, and in fact the woman made such a show of sincerity -and motherly anxiety, that I think I should have been satisfied. The -marshal, however, knew his business better--he insisted on opening the -door indicated, and inside, stretched on a dirty pallet, was a poor -creature, evidently ill enough, if not actually at the point of death. -It was not, however, the woman's daughter; but to my unspeakable horror, -I recognized instantly the poor girl I had once rescued from a less -cruel death and had turned over to the Salvation Army. There was no -mistaking her. Her scarred face was stamped indelibly on my memory. She -presently recognized me too; but all she said was, "They got me back. I -knew they would." We turned her over to John Marvel, while awaiting the -ambulance, and continued our search which threatened to prove fruitless -so far as Elsa Loewen was concerned. But at this moment a curious thing -occurred. Dixey, who had been following me all the morning and had, -without my taking notice of him, come not only to the house with us, but -had come in as well, began to nose around and presently stopped at a -door, where he proceeded to whimper as he was accustomed to do when he -wished to be let in at a closed door. I called him off, but though he -came, he went back again and again, until he attracted the officer's -attention. The door was a low one, and appeared to be the entrance only -to a cupboard. - -"Have we been in that room?" - -The woman declared that we had, but as we all knew it had not been -entered, she changed and said it was not the door of a room at all, but -of a closet. - -"Open it!" said the officer. - -"The key is lost," said the woman. "We do not use it!" - -"Then I will open it," said the marshal, and the next moment the door -was forced open. The woman gave a scream and made a dash at the nearest -man, beside herself with rage, fighting and tearing like a wild animal. -And well she might, for inside, crumpled up on the floor, under a pile -of clothing, lay the girl we were searching for, in a comatose state. -She was lifted carefully and brought out into the light, and I scarcely -knew her, so battered and bruised and dead-alive the poor thing -appeared. Dixey, however, knew, and he testified his affection and -gratitude by stealing in between us as we stood around her and licking -the poor thing's hand. It was a terrible story that was revealed when -the facts came out, and its details were too horrifying and revolting to -be put in print, but that night Madam Snow's hotel was closed. The -lights which had lured so many a frail bark to shipwreck were -extinguished, and Madam Snow and her wretched retinue of slaves, who had -been bound to a servitude more awful than anything which history could -tell or romance could portray, were held in the custody of the marshal -of the United States. - -The newspapers next day, with one exception, contained an account of the -"pulling" of Smooth Ally's place. That exception was _The Trumpet_. But -a day or two later John Marvel received a cheque for $200 from Coll -McSheen "for his poor." I had never seen Wolffert show more feeling than -when John, in the innocency of his heart, told him of the gift. "It is -the wedge of Achan!" he exclaimed. "It is hush money. It is blood money. -It is the thirty pieces of silver given for blood. Even Judas returned -it." He made his proof clear, and the money was returned. - - - - -XXXII - -"DOCTOR CAIAPHAS" - - -It was the duty of the street-car company under their charter to run -through cars every day or forfeit their charter--a wise provision, -doubtless; but one which did not contemplate that Coll McSheen who was -trying to destroy the company should have control of the police on whose -protection the ability to carry out the charter depended. - -Under the compulsion of this requirement to run through cars, the -management of the street-car line, after much trouble, secured a few men -who, for a large price, agreed to operate the cars. But it was several -hours after the regular time before the first car ran out of the shed. -It made its way for some distance without encountering any difficulty or -even attracting any attention beyond a few comments by men and women -walking along the streets or standing in their doors. A little further -along there were a few jeers, but presently it turned a corner and -reached a point in a street where a number of boys were playing, as -usual, and a number of men out of work were standing about smoking their -pipes and discussing with some acrimony the action of the meeting which -had called the strike, and with some foreboding the future. As the car -stopped for a moment to take on a woman who had been waiting, a number -of the boys playing in the street began to jeer and hoot the motorman, -who was evidently somewhat unaccustomed to handling his car, and when he -attempted to loosen his brake, and showed therein his unskilfulness, -jeers turned into taunts, and the next moment a few handfuls of rubbish -picked up in a gutter were flung at him. In a twinkling, as if by magic -the street filled, and vegetables taken from in front of a neighboring -shop, mingled with a few stones, began to rattle against the car, -smashing the windows with much noise. The rattling glass quickly -attracted attention. It was like a bugle call, and in a minute more the -road was blocked and a dozen youths sprang upon the car and a fierce -fight ensued between them and the motorman and conductor, both of whom -were soundly beaten and might have been killed but for their promise to -give up their job and the somewhat tardy arrival of the police who had -been promised, but had appeared on the scene only after the riot had -taken place. This collision, which was begun by a lot of irresponsible -boys, was described under glaring headlines in all of the afternoon -papers as a riot of vast dimension. The effect of the riot, great or -small, was instantaneous and far-reaching throughout the entire section. -That evening the entire population of that section had changed from an -attitude of reasonable neutrality to one of unequivocal hostility. It -was a psychological moment. The spark had been dropped in the powder. -Next day it was as if war had been declared. There were no neutrals. All -had taken sides. - -Before many days were out the strike had progressed so far that, instead -of its being a small body of men engaged in cessation of work, with -pacific methods of attempting to dissuade others who wished to continue -their work from doing so, or, by some more positive form of argument -known as picketing, of preventing newcomers from taking the places of -those who had struck, it had developed into an active force whose frank -object was to render it impossible for any man to take or hold a -position as an employee of the railway company. It was not so much that -meetings were frequently held and the measures advocated constantly grew -more and more violent, nor that occasional outbreaks occurred, as that -the whole temper of the people was becoming inflamed, and the conditions -of life affected thereby were becoming almost intolerable. The call of -the company on the mayor, as the representative of the public, to grant -them protection, was promptly, if somewhat evasively, replied to. No man -knew better than Coll McSheen how to express himself so that he might be -understood differently by different men. It had been one of his strong -cards in climbing to the altitude which he had reached. But the idea -that the police would render efficient aid to the company was openly and -generally scoffed at in the quarters where the strike prevailed. It was -boldly declared that the police were in sympathy with the strikers. This -report appeared to have some foundation, when one cold night, with the -thermometer at zero, a fire broke out in the mills owned by Mr. Leigh's -company, and they were gutted from foundation to roof. It was charged -on the strikers; but an investigation showed that this charge, like many -others, was unfounded; at least, as it alleged a direct and intentional -act. The evidence proved conclusively to my mind that the fire, while of -incendiary origin, was started by a gang of reckless and dissolute -youths who had no relation whatever to the strikers, but whose purpose -was to exhibit their enmity against a company which was held in such -disfavor generally. This was the contention of Wolffert in his papers on -the incident, and the view which Mr. Leigh afterward adopted. - -It was only an expression of the general feeling that had grown up in -the city under the influence of the strike--one of the baleful offspring -of the condition which McSheen and Wringman and their like had been able -to produce from the conflict which they had projected and fostered. The -wretched youths who were arrested, told under the sweating process a -series of wholly conflicting and incredible lies, and in time two of -them were convicted on their own confessions and sent to the State -prison, and the strikers who had not yet resorted to extreme measures of -violence got the credit of the crime. - -The continued spread of the strike and of sympathy with it had already -reached large proportions. The losses to business and to business men -and the inconvenience to even the well-to-do classes were immense and -when calculated in figures were quite staggering. The winter had set in -with sudden severity. The suffering among the poor was incalculable. -There was not a house or shop in the poorer districts where the pinch of -poverty was not beginning to be felt. The wolf, which ever stands beside -the door of the poor, had long since entered and cleaned out many of the -small dwellings which the summer before had been the abode of hope and -of reasonable content. Only the human wolves who prey on misfortune -battened and fattened; the stock-brokers who organized raids on "the -market," the usurers who robbed the poor more directly, but not more -effectively, the thieves of one kind or another alone prospered. The cry -of hunger increased while bitterness without and within had long since -begun to be universal, so long as to be scarcely heeded throughout the -poor quarters. The efforts of philanthropy, individual and organized, -were exercised to the utmost, but the trouble was too vast to be more -than touched on the outer fringe. The evil which Mr. Leigh had predicted -had come to pass and his prophecy had been far more than verified. Many -of the young women, turned from their factories, had disappeared from -the places which knew them before and found their way to haunts like Mel -Gallagin's "Gallery" and others less splendid, but not more wicked. Only -in the sphere in which persons of extraordinary accumulation moved, like -the Canters and the Argands, was there apparently no diminution in their -expenditure and display. Young Canter and his comrades still flaunted -their vast wealth in undisguised and irresponsible display--still -gambled on the stock boards in commodities that touched the lives of -pining thousands--still multiplied their horses and automobiles, and -drove them recklessly through crowded streets, heedless of the pinched -and scowling faces of unemployed multitudes. But older and saner heads -were beginning to shake when the future was mentioned. The reefing of -sails for a storm whose forerunners were on the horizon was already -taking place, and every reef meant that some part of the crew which had -sailed the ship so far was dropped overboard. - -The devil is credited with the power to raise a tempest. Certainly -tempests are raised, but sometimes even the devil cannot quiet them. -Such was the case with the strike. McSheen, Wringman and Co. had been -completely successful in getting the strike of the Leigh employees under -way: when it started, they privately took much pride in their work. -Wringman received his wage and gratified his feeling of revenge for Mr. -Leigh's cool contempt of him on the occasion when he called to demand -terms of him. McSheen had a score of longer standing to settle. It dated -back to the time when Mr. Leigh, looking with clear and scornful eyes at -his work, gave him to feel that at least one man knew him to the bottom -of his scoundrelly soul. For a while it appeared as though Mr. Leigh -would be irretrievably ruined and McSheen and his friends and secret -backers like Canter would secure easy possession of the properties his -power of organization had built up; but suddenly an unlooked-for ally -with abundant resources had come to Mr. Leigh's assistance in the person -of an old friend, and the ripened fruit of their labors had been -plucked from their hands outstretched to grasp it. And now having raised -the tempest, these gamblers could not calm it. In other words, having -started a strike among Mr. Leigh's operatives for a specific purpose, it -had spread like a conflagration and now threatened to destroy -everything. The whole laboring population were getting into a state of -ferment. Demands were made by their leaders such as had never been -dreamed of before. The leaders were working them for their own purposes, -and were after a temporary raise of wages. But there was a graver -danger. The people were becoming trained. A new leader was coming -forward, and his writings were having a profound influence. He could not -be bullied, and he could not be bought, this Jew, Wolffert. He was -opening the eyes of the People. Unless the thing were stopped, there -would be a catastrophe which would ruin them all. This was the judgment -that McSheen and Canter and Co. arrived at. And this was the conclusion -that Mr. Canter, Sr., announced to his son and heir, Mr. Canter, Jr., at -the close of an interview in which he had discussed his affairs with -more openness than he usually employed with that audacious young -operator. "The fact is," he said, "that we have failed in the object of -our move. We have not got hold of Leigh's lines--and his men are -returning to work while ours are just beginning to fight--and instead of -getting his properties, we stand a blessed good show of losing our own. -McSheen couldn't deliver the goods and there is the devil to pay. Why -don't you stop your ---- nonsense and settle down and marry that girl? -She's the prettiest girl in town and--Well, you might go a good deal -further and fare worse. There is a good property there if we don't -destroy it fighting for it. If you are ever going to do it, now is the -time, and we are bound to have it, if possible, to save our own." - -Mr. Canter, Jr., shrugged his shoulders. "How do you know she would have -me?" he asked with a sort of grin which was not altogether mirthful. He -did not feel it necessary to impart to his parent the fact that he was -beginning to have strong doubts himself on the subject. But Canter, Jr., -was no fool. - -"Well, of course, she won't, if you go spreeing around with a lot of -blanked hussies. No decent woman would. But why the deuce don't you drop -that business? You are getting old enough now to know better. And you -can't keep hitting it up as you have been doing. There's a new system -coming in in this town, and you'll get in trouble if you don't look out. -You came precious near it the other night. Those young men mean -business. Get rid of that woman." - -Young Canter for once came near disclosing to his father the whole -situation and telling him the truth. He however contented himself with -his usual half-light assurance that he was all right--and that he was -going to settle down. He could not bring himself to tell him that he -found himself bound with a chain which he could not break, and that -"that woman" would not be gotten rid of. She, in fact, threatened not -only to make a terrible scandal if he attempted to leave her, but -actually menaced his life. - -However, he determined to act on his father's advice. He would break off -from her and if he could carry through his plans he would marry and go -abroad and remain until the storm had blown over and "that woman" had -consoled herself with some other soft young millionaire. - -Among all the people affected by the strike none suffered more, I -believe, than John Marvel and Wolffert. I never saw any one more -distressed by the suffering about them than these two men. Others -suffered physically, they mentally, and in the reflexive way which comes -from over-wrought sympathies. Where gloom and dull hate scowled from the -brows of the working class, sadness and sorrow shadowed John's brow, -though at need he always had a smile and a cheery word for every one. He -was soon reduced to his last suit of clothes, and as the cold increased, -he went about overcoatless and gloveless, walking like fury and beating -his arms to keep himself from freezing, his worn overcoat and gloves -having long since gone with everything else he had to help some one -needier than himself. "Take a long, deep breath," he used to say, "and -it will warm you up like a fire. What does a young man need with an -overcoat?" What, indeed, with the thermometer at zero, and rapidly -slipping still lower! "Those I grieve for are the old and the sick and -the young children." - -However this was, he was busier than ever--going in and out among his -poor; writing letters, making calls, appealing to those able to give, -and distributing what he could collect, which, indeed, was no little, -for the people at large were sympathetic with suffering and generous to -poverty. And his ablest assistant in the work was Wolffert, if, indeed, -he was not the leader. I never knew before what one man's intellect and -zeal consecrated to a work could accomplish. The great morass of -poverty, wide and profound at all times, extending through the city, -sapping the foundations and emitting its exhalations, became now -bottomless and boundless. Into this morass Wolffert flung himself with -the earnestness of a zealot. He worked day and night, organizing relief -associations; looking after individual cases; writing letters to the -press and picturing conditions with a vividness which began to make an -impression on all sides. He counselled patience and moderation on the -part of the poor, but made no secret of his sympathy with them, and -where he dealt with the injustice shown them it was with a pen of flame. -The conservative papers charged that his letters added fuel to the -flames already blazing. It was possibly true. Certainly, the flames were -spreading. - -As the strike proceeded and violence increased, those evidences of -sympathy which came in the form of contributions grew less, and at last -they began to fail perceptibly. In the commotion the foulest dregs of -the seething community were thrown up, the vilest scum rose to the top. -As in the case of Mr. Leigh's fire, whatever outrages were committed -were charged to the strikers. The press, which had begun with -expressions of sympathy with the strikers, had, under the impending -shadow, changed its tone and was now calling on the authorities to put -down lawlessness with a strong hand; demanding that the police should be -ordered to protect the property and lives of citizens, and calling on -the mayor to bestir himself and call on the governor for aid. - -In this state of the case John Marvel, wishing to see what could be done -to ameliorate the conditions about him, called a meeting of his -congregation at his church one evening just before Christmas, and when -the time came the little chapel was crowded to suffocation. It was a -sombre and depressing-looking crowd that thronged the aisles of the -little building. Poverty and want were in every face. A hopeless, sullen -misery sat on every brow. The people thought that somehow some good -would come of it, and many who had never been inside the walls before -were on hand. I went in consequence of a talk I had with Marvel, who had -casually mentioned Miss Eleanor Leigh's name in connection with the -first suggestion of the call. And I was rewarded, for seated back in the -crowd, with her face a little more pallid than usual and her eyes filled -with the light of expectancy and kindness, sat Eleanor Leigh. She was -dressed with great simplicity; but her appearance was not the less -attractive, at least to me. She smiled from time to time to some -acquaintance in the sad-looking throng, but I had a pang of jealousy to -see how her gaze followed John Marvel, and one other member of the -assembly, whose presence rather surprised me, Wolffert. - -After a brief service John Marvel, in a few touching and singularly apt -words, explained the reason for having called them together, -irrespective of their church relation, and urged that, as the blessed -season which was accepted by Christendom as the time of peace on earth -and good-will to all men was drawing near, they should all try to lay -aside personal feeling and hates and grievances, and try what effect -kindness and good-will would accomplish. He asked that all would try to -help each other as formerly, and trust to the Divine and Merciful Master -to right their wrongs and inspire compassion for their sufferings. He -referred to the terrible development that had just been made among -them--the discovery of Elsa and the other poor girl who had been found -at the Snow house--to the sudden arousing of the law after years of -praying and working, and with a word of compassion for the poor -creatures who had been misled and enslaved, he urged patience and prayer -as the means to secure God's all-powerful help in their distress. His -words and manner were simple and touching, and I do not attempt to give -any idea of them or of their effect. But I somehow felt as though I were -hearing the very teaching of Christ. He would call on one who was their -friend as they knew, the friend of all who needed a friend, to say a few -words to them. He turned to Wolffert. Wolffert walked forward a few -steps and turned, made a brief but powerful statement of the situation, -and counselled patience and forbearance. He knew their sufferings, he -said--he knew their fortitude. He knew their wrongs, but patience and -fortitude would in time bring a realization of it all in the minds of -the public. What was needed was to make known to the world the truth, -not as changed and distorted by ignorance or evil design, but as it -existed in fact. They had a more powerful weapon than bullets or -bayonets, the power of truth and justice. His own people had been -preserved by Jehovah through the ages by the patience and fortitude He -had given them, and God's arm was not shortened that He could not save -nor His ear dulled that He could not hear. He used the same illustration -that John Marvel had used: the unexpected arousing of the law to defend -and save poor ignorant girls, who were being dragged down to the -bottomless pit by organized infamy under the protection of men who had -made themselves more powerful than the law. For these he had a few -scathing words. He told of John Marvel's going to find Elsa, and -referred to the aid he had received from others, those connected with -the railway line on which the strike existed; and he counselled them to -protect themselves, obey the law, keep the peace, and await with -patience the justice of God. Efforts were being made to furnish them -with fuel. - -It may have been Wolffert's deep, flashing eyes, his earnest manner and -vibrant voice, which affected them, for, though he held himself under -strong restraint, he was deeply affected himself; but when John Marvel, -after a brief prayer, dismissed them with the benediction, the people, -men and women, passed out in almost silence and dispersed to their -homes, and their murmured talk was all in a new key of resignation and -even of distant hope. I felt as though I had shaken off the trammels of -selfishness that had hitherto bound me, and was getting a glimpse of -what the world might become in the future. This simple follower of -Christ among his poor, threadbare like them, like them fireless and -hungry and poor, illustrated his master's teaching in a way which I had -never seen before, and it gave me a new insight into his power. I should -have liked to go up to Eleanor Leigh and make peace with her; but while -I deliberated Wolffert joined her and I walked home alone and -thoughtful. - -The press next morning had a fairly full notice of the meeting--the -first that had ever been given to the work done through the chapel and -its minister. The chief notices in it were the connection of the -minister with the case of Elsa Loewen and the attack on the system made -by a Jew. One paper had the heading: - - "JEW AND CHRISTIAN." - -Another's headline ran: - - "PREACHER MARVEL VISITS A BAGNIO." - -And it was only below that it was made plain that John Marvel had gone -thither to rescue a lost girl. This, Kalender once informed me, was the -true art of making headlines. "Half the world don't read anything but -the headlines," he asserted, "and the other half don't remember anything -else." The story made a sensation which Kalender himself might have -coveted. - -That day about noon Mrs. Argand received a call from her counsel, the -Hon. Collis McSheen, who unfolded to her such a diabolical scheme to -injure her property interests in common with those of every other -important property holder in the city, by a wicked Jewish wretch and his -fellow in mischief, who professed to be a preacher of the Gospel in a -chapel which she had largely helped to build for the poor, that between -fright and rage the good lady was scarcely able to wait long enough to -summon the Rev. Dr. Capon to her house. The Hon. Collis did not mention -the fact that one of his own houses was at that moment closed through -the act of this scheming parson, nor that he was beginning to shake over -the idea that the investigation beginning to be set on foot in -consequence of the meddlesomeness of this same person might reach -uncomfortably near his own door, and that he was sensible that a force -was being aroused which he could not control. - -Most women trust implicitly in their lawyers, and, curiously enough, -many trust them in their affairs even when they know they are dishonest. -Coll McSheen knew perfectly how to deal with Mrs. Argand. He descanted -eloquently on his duty to the great estate she represented and his pride -in her admirable management of it. One of the great fountains of charity -was in danger. - -The Reverend Doctor Bartholomew Capon visited his parishioner and was -quite as much upset as she herself was over the information received -from Mr. McSheen. Dr. Capon had but an indifferent opinion of Mr. -McSheen. He knew him to be by repute a protector of evildoers, a man of -loose morals and low instincts, but he was a man of power of the brute -kind and of keen insight into the grosser conditions. And his views as -to the effect on property of any movement in the city were entitled to -great respect, and property, to the doctor's mind, was undoubtedly a -divine institution. Moreover, a Jew who assailed it must have some -ulterior design. And to think of his having been permitted to speak in -his chapel! So Dr. Capon returned to his home much displeased with his -assistant and, sitting down, wrote him a note immediately. - -This note John Marvel received next morning in his mail. It ran as -follows: - - "Mr. Marvel will call at the rector's office to-morrow, Tuesday, at - 11.30 promptly. - - "(Signed) BARTHOLOMEW CAPON, D.D., - - "_Rector_, etc., etc." - -The tone of the note struck even John Marvel and he immediately brought -it over to me. We both agreed that the doctor must have read the account -of the raid on Madam Snow's and of his presence there when the officers -arrived, and we decided that, notwithstanding the curtness of the -summons, it was due to John himself to go and make a simple statement of -the matter. We felt indeed that the interview might result in awakening -the living interest of Dr. Capon in the work on which we had embarked -and securing the co-operation not only of himself but of the powerful -organization which he represented as rector of a large church. Dr. Capon -was not a difficult man; in his own way, which was the way of many -others, he tried to do good. He was only a worldly man and a narrow man. -He felt that his mission was to the rich. He knew them better than the -poor and liked them better. The poor had so much done for them, why -should not he look after the rich? Like Simon, he believed that there -was a power in money which was unlimited. - -At 11.30 promptly John Marvel presented himself in the front room of the -building attached to the church, in one corner of which was the rector's -roomy office. A solemn servant was in waiting who took in his name, -closing the door silently behind him, and after a minute returned and -silently motioned John Marvel to enter. Dr. Capon was seated at his desk -with a number of newspapers before him, and in response to John's "Good -morning," he simply said, "Be seated," with a jerk of his head toward a -chair which was placed at a little distance from him, and John took the -seat, feeling, as he afterward told me, much as he used to feel when a -small boy, when he was called up by a teacher and set down in a chair -for a lecture. The rector shuffled his newspapers in a sudden little -accession of excitement, taking off his gold-rimmed glasses and putting -them on again, and then taking up one, he turned to John. - -"Mr. Marvel, I am astonished at you--I am simply astounded that you -should have so far forgotten yourself and what was due to your orders as -to have done what I read in this sheet and what the whole press is -ringing with." - -"Well, sir," said John, who had by this time gotten entire control of -himself, and felt completely at ease in the consciousness of his -innocence and of his ability to prove it. "I am not surprised that you -should be astounded unless you knew the facts of the case." - -"What facts, sir?" demanded Dr. Capon sternly. "Facts! There is but one -fact to be considered--that you have violated a fundamental canon." - -"Yes, I knew it would look so, and I had intended to come yesterday to -consult you as to the best method----" - -"It is a pity you had not done so--that you allowed your sense of duty -to be so obscured as to forget what was due alike to me and to your -sacred vows." - -"But I was very much engaged," pursued John, "with matters that appeared -to me of much greater importance than anything relating to my poor -self." - -"Oh!" exclaimed the rector. "Cease! Cease your pretences! Mr. Marvel, -your usefulness is ended. Sign that paper!" - -He picked up and held out to him with a tragic air a paper which he had -already prepared before John Marvel's arrival. John's mind had for the -moment become a blank to some extent under the unexpected attack, and it -was a mechanical act by which his eye took in the fact that the paper -thrust into his hand was a resignation declaring that it was made on -the demand of the rector for reasons stated which rendered it imperative -that he sever his connection with that parish. - -"I will not sign that paper," said John quietly. - -"You will not what?" The rector almost sprang out of his chair. - -"I will not sign that paper." - -"And pray, why not?" - -"Because it places me in the position of acknowledging a charge which, -even if true, has not been specifically stated, and which is not true -whatever the appearances may be, as I can readily prove." - -"Not true?" the rector exclaimed. "Is it not true that you allowed a Jew -to speak in your church, in my chapel?" - -"That I did what?" asked John, amazed at the unexpected discovery of the -rector's reason. - -"That you invited and permitted a man named Wolffert, a socialistic Jew, -to address a congregation in my chapel?" - -"It is true," said John Marvel, "that I invited Mr. Wolffert to speak to -an assemblage in the chapel under my charge, and that he did so speak -there." - -"Uttering the most dangerous and inflammatory doctrines--doctrines alike -opposed to the teaching of the church and to the command of the law?" - -"That is not true," said John. "You have been misinformed." - -"I do not wish or propose to discuss either this or any other matter -with you, Mr. Marvel. You have allowed a Jew to speak in the house of -God. Your usefulness is ended. You will be good enough to sign this -paper, for you may rest assured that I know my rights and shall maintain -them." - -"No, I will not sign this paper," said John Marvel, "but I will resign. -Give me a sheet of paper." - -The rector handed him a sheet, and John drew up a chair to the desk and -wrote his resignation in a half-dozen words and handed it to the rector. - -"Is that accepted?" he asked quietly. - -"It is." The rector laid the sheet on his desk and then turned back to -John Marvel. "And now, Mr. Marvel, allow me to say that you grossly, I -may say flagitiously, violated the trust I reposed in you when----" - -John Marvel held up his hand. "Stop! Not one word more from you. I am no -longer your assistant. I have stood many things from you because I -believed it was my duty to stand them, so long as I was in a position -where I could be of service, and because I felt it my duty to obey you -as my superior officer, but now that this connection is severed, I wish -to say that I will not tolerate one more word or act of insolence from -you." - -"Insolence?" cried the rector. "Insolence? You are insolent yourself, -sir. You do not know the meaning of the term." - -"Oh! Yes, I know it," said John, who had cooled down after his sudden -outbreak. "I have had cause to know it. I have been your assistant for -two years. I bid you good morning, Dr. Capon." He turned and walked out, -leaving the rector speechless with rage. - -I do not mean in relating Dr. Capon's position in this interview to make -any charge against others who might honestly hold the same view which he -held as to the propriety of John Marvel's having requested Leo Wolffert -to speak in his church, however much I myself might differ from that -view, and however I might think in holding it they are tithing the mint, -anise, and cumin, and overlooking the weightier matters of the law. My -outbreak of wrath, when John Marvel told me of his interview with the -rector, was due, not to the smallness of the rector's mind, but to the -simple fact that he selected this as the basis of his charge, when in -truth it was overshadowed in his mind by the fact that Leo Wolffert's -address had aroused the ire of one of his leading parishioners, and that -the doctor was thus guilty of a sham in bringing his charge, not because -of the address, but because of the anger of his wealthy parishioner. -Wolffert was savage in his wrath when he learned how John had been -treated. "Your church is the church of the rich," he said to me; for he -would not say it to John. And when I defended it and pointed to its work -done among the poor, to its long line of faithful devoted workers, to -its apostles and martyrs, to John Marvel himself, he said: "Don't you -see that Dr. Caiaphas is one of its high-priests and is turning out its -prophets? I tell you it will never prosper till he is turned out and the -people brought in! Your Church is the most inconsistent in the world, -and I wonder they do not see it. Its Head, whom it considers divine and -worships as God, lived and died in a continual war against formalism -and sacerdotalism, it was the foundation of all his teaching for which -he finally suffered death at the hands of the priests. The imperishable -truth in that teaching is that God is within you, and to be worshipped -'in spirit' and in truth; that not the temple made with hands, but the -temple of the body is the one temple, and that the poor are his chosen -people--the poor in heart are his loved disciples; yet your priests -arrogate to themselves all that he suffered to overthrow. Your Dr. Capon -is only Dr. Caiaphas, with a few slight changes, and presumes to -persecute the true disciples precisely as his predecessors persecuted -their master." - -"He is not my Dr. Capon," I protested. - -"Oh! well, he is the representative of the ecclesiasticism that -crucifies spiritual freedom and substitutes form for substance. He -'makes broad his phylacteries and for a pretence makes long prayers.'" - -"It appears to me that you are very fond of quoting the Bible, for an -unbeliever," I said. - -"I, an unbeliever! I, a Jew!" exclaimed Wolffert, whose eyes were -sparkling. "My dear sir, I am the believer of the ages--I only do not -believe that any forms established by men are necessary to bring men -into communion with God--I refuse to believe selfishness, and arrogance, -and blindness, when they step forth with bell, book, and candle, and -say, obey us, or be damned. I refuse to worship a ritual, or a church. I -will worship only God." He turned away with that detached air which has -always struck me as something oriental. - -As soon as it became known in his old parish that John had resigned he -was called back there; but the solicitations of his poor parishioners -that he should not abandon them in their troubles prevailed, and -Wolffert and I united in trying to show him that his influence now was -of great importance. Indeed, the workers among the poor of every church -came and besought him to remain. Little Father Tapp, patting him on the -shoulder, said, "Come to us, John, the Holy Father will make you a -bishop." So he remained with his people and soon was given another small -chapel under a less fashionable and more spiritual rector. I think -Eleanor Leigh had something to do with his decision. I know that she was -so urgent for him to remain that both Dr. Capon and I were given food -for serious thought. - - - - -XXXIII - -THE PEACE-MAKER - - -It was in this condition of affairs that a short time after John Marvel -had been dismissed from his cure by his incensed rector, a great dinner -was given by Mrs. Argand which, because of the lavishness of the display -and the number of notable persons in the city who were present, and also -because of a decision that was reached by certain of the guests at the -dinner and the consequences which it was hoped might ensue therefrom, -was fully written up in the press. If Mrs. Argand knew one thing well, -it was how to give an entertainment which should exceed in its -magnificence the entertainment of any other person in the city. She was -a woman of great wealth. She had had a large experience both at home and -abroad in entertainments whose expenditure remained traditional for -years. She had learned from her husband the value, as a merely -commercial venture, of a fine dinner. She knew the traditional way to -men's hearts, and she felt that something was due to her position, and -at the same time she received great pleasure in being the centre and the -dispenser of a hospitality which should be a wonder to all who knew her. -Her house with its great rooms and galleries filled with expensive -pictures lent itself well to entertainment. And Mrs. Argand, who knew -something of history, fancied that she had what quite approached a -salon. To be sure, those who frequented it were more familiar with -stock-exchanges and counting-houses than with art or literature. On this -occasion she had assembled a number of the leading men of affairs in the -city, with the purpose not so much of entertaining them, as of securing -from them a co-operation, which, by making a show of some concession to -the starving strikers and their friends, should avail to stop the steady -loss in her rents and drain on even her great resources. She had already -found herself compelled, by reason of the reduction in her income, which -prevented her putting by as large a surplus as she had been accustomed -to put by year by year, to cut off a number of her charities, and this -she disliked to do, for she not only regretted having to cut down her -outlay for the relief of suffering, but it was a blow to her pride to -feel that others knew that her income was reduced. - -The idea of the dinner had been suggested by no less a person than Dr. -Capon himself, to whom the happy thought had occurred that possibly if a -huge mass meeting composed of the strikers could be assembled in some -great auditorium, and addressed by the leading men in the city, they -might be convinced of the folly and error of their ways and induced to -reject the false teaching of their designing leaders and return to work, -by which he argued the great suffering would be immediately reduced, the -loss alike to labor and to capital would be stopped, peace would be -restored, and the general welfare be tremendously advanced. Moreover, he -would show that his removal of his assistant was not due to his -indifference to the poor as Wolffert had charged in a biting paper on -the episode, but to a higher motive. What John Marvel had tried on a -small scale he would accomplish on a vast one. He would himself, he -said, take pleasure in addressing such an audience, and he felt sure -that they would listen to the friendly admonition of a minister of the -Gospel, who could not but stand to them as the representative of charity -and divine compassion. - -I will not attempt to describe the richness of the floral decorations -which made Mrs. Argand's great house a bower of roses and orchids for -the occasion, nor the lavish display of plate, gilded and ungilded, -which loaded the great table, all of which was set forth in the press -the following day with a lavishness of description and a wealth of -superlatives quite equal to the display at the dinner; nor need I take -time to describe the guests who were assembled. Mr. Leigh, who was -invited, was not present, but expressed himself as ready to meet his men -half-way. Every viand not in season was in the ménu. It was universally -agreed by the guests that no entertainment which was recalled had ever -been half so rich in its decorations or so regal in its display or so -sumptuous in its fare; that certainly the same number of millions had -never been represented in any private house in this city, or possibly, -in any city of the country. It remains only to be said that the plan -proposed by the Rev. Dr. Capon met with the approval of a sufficient -number to secure an attempt at its adoption, though the large majority -of the gentlemen present openly expressed their disbelief that any good -whatever would come of such an attempt, and more than one frankly -declared that the doctor was attempting to sprinkle rose-water when -really what was actually needed were guns and bayonets. The doctor, -however, was so urgent in the expression of his views, so certain that -the people would be reasonable and could not fail to be impressed by a -kindly expression of interest, and the sound advice of one whom they -must recognize as their friend, that a half-derisive consent was given -to a trial of his plan. - -Among the notices of this dinner was one which termed it "Belshazzar's -Feast," and as such it became known in the workingmen's quarter. Its -scorching periods described the Babylonian splendor of the entertainment -provided for the officials of millionairedom, and pictured with simple -art the nakedness of a hovel not five blocks away, in which an old man -and an old woman had been found that day frozen to death. I recognized -in it the work of Wolffert's virile pen. John Marvel might forgive Dr. -Capon, but not Wolffert Dr. Caiaphas. The proposed meeting, however, -excited much interest in all circles of the city, especially in that -underlying circle of the poor whose circumference circumscribed and -enclosed all other circles whatsoever. What was, indeed, of mere -interest to others was of vital necessity to them, that some arrangement -should be arrived at by which work should once more be given to the -ever-increasing body of the unemployed, whose sombre presence darkened -the brightest day and tinged with melancholy the fairest expectation. In -furtherance of Dr. Capon's plan a large hall was secured, and a general -invitation was issued to the public, especially to the workingmen of the -section where the strike existed, to attend a meeting set for the -earliest possible moment, an evening in the beginning of the next week. -The meeting took place as advertised and the attendance exceeded all -expectation. The heart of the poor beat with renewed hope, though, like -their wealthy neighbors, many of them felt that the hope was a desperate -one. Still they worked toward the single ray of light which penetrated -into the gloom of their situation. - -The seats were filled long before the hour set for the meeting and every -available foot of standing room was occupied, the corridors of the -building were filled, and the streets outside were thronged with groups -discussing the possibility of some settlement in low and earnest tones, -broken now and then by some strident note of contention or sullen growl -of hate. Knowing the interest in the movement throughout the quarter -where I lived, and having some curiosity besides to hear what Coll -McSheen and the Rev. Dr. Capon had to say, I went early in company with -Wolffert and John Marvel, the former of whom was absolutely sceptical, -the latter entirely hopeful of permanent results. Wolffert's eyes glowed -with a deep but lambent flame as he spoke of "Dr. Caiaphas." On arrival -at the hall he left us and moved to the front rows. The crowd on the -platform represented the leaders in many departments of business in the -city, among whom were a fair sprinkling of men noted for their -particular interest in all public charities and good works, and in a -little group to one side, a small body composed of the more conservative -element among the leaders of the workingmen in the city. The whole -affair had been well worked up and on the outside it gave a fair promise -of success. A number of boxes were filled with ladies interested in the -movement and I had not been in the hall five minutes before I discovered -Eleanor Leigh in one of the boxes, her face grave, but her eyes full of -eager expectation. It was with a sinking of the heart that I reflected -on the breach between us, and I fear that I spent my time much more in -considering how I should overcome it than in plans to relieve the -distress of others. - -The meeting opened with an invocation by the Rev. Dr. Capon, which -appeared to strike some of the assemblage as somewhat too eloquent, -rather too long, and tinged with an expression of compassion for the -ignorance and facility for being misguided of the working class. When he -began the assemblage was highly reverent, when he ended there were -murmurs of criticism and discussion audible throughout the hall. The -introductory statement of the reason for the call was made by the Hon. -Collis McSheen, who, as mayor of the city, lent the dignity of his -presence to the occasion. It was long, eloquent, and absolutely silent -as to his views on any particular method of settlement of the question -at issue, but it expressed his sympathy with all classes in terms -highly general and concluded with an impartial expression of advice that -they should get together, provided all could get what they wanted, which -appeared to him the easiest thing in the world to do. Following him, one -of the magnates of the city, Mr. James Canter, Sr., delivered a brief -business statement of the loss to the city and the community at large, -growing out of the strike, expressed in figures which had been carefully -collated, and closed with the emphatic declaration that the working -people did not know what they wanted. One other thing he made plain, -that in a strike the working people suffered most, which was a -proposition that few persons in the hall were prepared to deny. Then -came the Rev. Dr. Capon, who was manifestly the chief speaker for the -occasion. His manner was graceful and self-assured, his voice sonorous -and well modulated, and his tone was sympathetic, if somewhat too -patronizing. His first sentences were listened to with attention. He -expressed his deep sympathy somewhat as the mayor had done, but in -better English and more modulated tones, with all classes, especially -with the working people. A slight cough appeared to have attacked one -portion of the audience, but it stopped immediately, and silence once -more fell on the assemblage as he proceeded. - -"And now," he said, as he advanced a step nearer to the edge of the -platform, and, having delivered himself of his preliminary expressions -of condolence, threw up his head and assumed his best pulpit manner, -"under a full sense of my responsibility to my people and my country I -wish to counsel you as your friend, as the friend of the poor"--the -slight cough I have mentioned became audible again--"as the friend of -the workingman whose interests I have so deeply at heart." - -At this moment a young man who had taken a seat well to the front on the -main aisle, rose in his seat and politely asked if the doctor would -allow him to ask him a question, the answer to which he believed would -enable the audience to understand his position better. The pleasant tone -of the young man led the doctor to give permission, and also the young -man's appearance, for it was Wolffert. - -"Certainly, my dear sir," he said. - -Wolffert suddenly held up in his hand a newspaper. - -"I wish," he said, "to ask you where you dined last Friday night; with -whom?" - -The question provoked a sudden outpour of shouts and cheers and cries of -derision, and in a moment pandemonium had broken loose. The doctor -attempted to speak again and again, but about all that could be heard -was his vociferation that he was their friend. Wolffert, whose question -had caused the commotion, was now mounted on a chair and waving his arms -wildly about him, and presently, moved by curiosity, the tumult subsided -and the audience sat with their faces turned toward the man on the -chair. He turned, and with a sweep of his arm toward the stage, he -cried: - -"We don't want to hear you. What have you done that you should give us -advice? What do you know of us? When have you ever hearkened to the cry -of the destitute? When have you ever visited the fatherless and the -widows in affliction, unless they were rich? When have you ever done -anything but fawn on Herod and flatter Pontius? Whom are you here to -help and set free to-day? These people? No! High-priest of wealth and -power and usurpation, we know you and your friends--the Jesus you ask to -free is not the Nazarene, but Barabbas, the robber, promoter of vice and -patron of sin!" - -His long arm pointed at the platform where sat McSheen, his face black -with impotent rage. "If we are to have a priest to address us, let us -have one that we can trust. Give us a man like John Marvel. We know him -and he knows us." He turned and pointed to Marvel. - -The effect was electrical. Shouts of "Marvel! Mr. Marvel! Marvel! -Marvel! John Marvel!" rang from their throats, and suddenly, as with one -impulse, the men turned to our corner where John Marvel had sunk in his -seat to escape observation, and in an instant he was seized, drawn forth -and lifted bodily on the shoulders of men and borne to the platform as -if on the crest of a tidal wave. Coll McSheen and Dr. Capon were both -shouting to the audience, but they might as well have addressed a -tropical hurricane. The cries of "Marvel, Marvel" drowned every other -sound, and presently those on the stage gathered about both McSheen and -the rector, and after a moment one of them stepped forward and asked -John Marvel to speak. - -John Marvel turned, stepped forward to the edge of the platform, and -reached out one long arm over the audience with an awkward but telling -gesture that I had often seen him use, keeping it extended until, after -one great outburst of applause, the tumult had died down. - -"My friends," he began. Another tumult. - -"That is it. Yes, we are your friends." - -Still the arm outstretched commanded silence. - -He began to speak quietly and slowly and his voice suddenly struck me as -singularly sympathetic and clear, as it must have struck the entire -assembly, for suddenly the tumult ceased and the hall became perfectly -quiet. He spoke only a few minutes, declaring that he had not come to -speak to them; but to be with them, and pray that God might give them -(he said "us") peace and show some way out of the blackness which had -settled down upon them. He bade them not despair, however dark the cloud -might be which had overshadowed them. They might be sure that God was -beyond it and that He would give light in His own time. He was leading -them now, as always--the presence of that assembly, with so many of the -leading men of the city asking a conference, was in itself a proof of -the great advance their cause had made. That cause was not, as some -thought, so much money a day, but was the claim to justice and -consideration and brotherly kindness. He himself was not a business man. -He knew nothing of such matters. His duty was to preach--to preach -peace--to preach the love of God--to preach patience and long-suffering -and forgiveness, the teaching of his Lord and master, who had lived in -poverty all His life, without a place to lay His head, and had died -calling on God to forgive His enemies. - -This is a poor summary of what he said very simply but with a feeling -and solemnity which touched the great audience, who suddenly crushed out -every attempt to contradict his proposition. Something had transformed -him so that I could scarcely recognize him. I asked myself, can this be -John Marvel, this master of this great audience? What is the secret of -his power? The only answer I could find was in his goodness, his -sincerity, and sympathy. - -"And now," he said in closing, "whatever happens, please God, I shall be -with you and take my lot among you, and I ask you as a favor to me to -listen to Dr. Capon." - -There was a great uproar and shout; for Dr. Capon had, immediately after -John Marvel got control of his audience, risen from his seat, seized his -hat and coat and cane, and stalked with great majesty from the platform. -There were, however, a number of other speeches, and although there was -much noise and tumult, some advance was made; for a general, though by -no means unanimous, opinion was shown in favor of something in the -nature of a reconciliation. - -As I glanced up after John Marvel returned amid the shouts to his seat, -I saw Miss Leigh in one of the boxes leaning forward and looking with -kindled eyes in our direction. Thinking that she was looking at me, and -feeling very forgiving, I bowed to her, and it was only when she failed -to return my bow that I apprehended that she was not looking at me but -at John Marvel. If she saw me she gave no sign of it; and when I walked -the streets that night, strikes and strikers occupied but little of my -thoughts. Unless I could make up with Eleanor Leigh, the whole world -might go on strike for me. I determined to consult John Marvel. He had -somehow begun to appear to me the sanest of advisers. I began to feel -that he was, as Wolffert had once said of him, "a sort of Ark of the -Covenant." - - - - -XXXIV - -THE FLAG OF TRUCE - - -My acquaintance was now extending rapidly. I had discovered in the -turgid tide that swept through the streets of the city other conditions -and moods than those I first remarked: dark brooding shadows and rushing -rapids catching the light, but fierce and deadly beneath; placid pools -and sequestered eddies, far apart where the sunlight sifted in and lay -soft on the drift that had escaped the flood, touching it with its magic -and lending it its sweet radiance. I had found, indeed, that the city -was an epitome of the world. It took a great many people to make it and -there were other classes in it besides the rich and the poor. It was in -one of these classes that I was beginning to find myself most at home. - -I received one day an invitation to dine one evening the following week -at the house of a gentleman whom I had met a week or two before and whom -I had called on in response to an invitation unusually cordial. I had -not been to a fashionable dinner since I had come to the West, and I -looked forward with some curiosity to the company whom I should meet at -Mr. Desport's, for I knew nothing about him except that I had met him in -a law case and we had appeared to have a number of things in common, -including objects of dislike, and further, that when I called on him he -lived in a very handsome house, and I was received in one of the most -charming libraries it was ever my good fortune to enter, and with a -graciousness on the part of his wife which I had never known excelled. -It was like stepping into another world to pass from the rush of the -city into that atmosphere of refinement and culture. - -My heart, however, was a little lower down than it should have been, for -I could not but reflect with how much more pleasure I would have arrayed -myself if it had been an invitation to Mr. Leigh's. In truth, the -transition from my narrow quarters and the poverty of those among whom I -had been living for some time, made this charming house appear to me the -acme of luxury, and I was conscious of a sudden feeling, as I passed -this evening through the ample and dignified hall into the sumptuous -drawing-room, that somehow I was well fitted for such surroundings. -Certainly I found them greatly to my taste. I was received again most -graciously by Mrs. Desport, and as I had followed my provincial custom -of coming a little ahead of time, I was the first visitor to arrive, a -fact which I did not regret, as Mrs. Desport took occasion to tell me -something of the guests whom she expected. After describing what I -concluded to be a somewhat staid and elderly company, she added: - -"I have given you a young lady whom I feel sure you will like. She is a -little serious-minded, I think, and some people consider that she is -simply posing; but however eccentric she may be, I believe that she is -really in earnest, and so does my husband; and I have never seen a young -girl improve so much as she has done since she took up this new work of -hers." - -What this work was I was prevented from inquiring by the arrival of a -number of guests all at once. - -A dinner where the guests are not presented to each other differs in no -important sense from a table-d'hôte dinner. The soup is likely to be a -trifle colder and the guests a trifle more reserved--that is all. Mrs. -Desport, however, followed the old-fashioned custom of introducing her -guests to each other, preferring to open the way for them to feel at -home, rather than to leave them floundering among inanities about the -weather and their taste for opera. And though a lady, whom I presently -sat next to, informed me that they did not do it "in England or even in -New York now," I was duly grateful. - -Having been presented to the company, I found them gay and full of -animation, even though their conversation was inclined to be mainly -personal and related almost exclusively to people with whom, for the -most part, I had no acquaintance. The name of young Canter figured -rather more extensively in it than was pleasant to me, and Dr. Capon was -handled with somewhat less dignity than the cloth might have been -supposed to require. I was, however, just beginning to enjoy myself when -my attention was suddenly diverted by the sound of a voice behind me, as -another guest arrived. I did not even need to turn to recognize Eleanor -Leigh, but when I moved around sufficiently to take a side glance at -her, I was wholly unprepared for the vision before me. I seemed to have -forgotten how charming she looked, and she broke on me like a fresh dawn -after a storm. I do not know what I was thinking, or whether I was not -merely just feeling, when my hostess came forward. - -"Now we are all here. Mr. Glave, you are to take Miss Leigh in. You know -her, I believe?" - -I felt myself red and pale by turns and, glancing at Miss Leigh, saw -that she, too, was embarrassed. I was about to stammer something when my -hostess moved away, and as it appeared that the others had all paired -off, there was nothing for me to do but accept the situation. As I -walked over and bowed, I said in a low tone: - -"I hope you will understand that I had no part in this. I did not know." - -She evidently heard, for she made a slight bow and then drew herself up -and took my arm. - -"I should not have come," I added, "had I known of this. However, I -suppose it is necessary that we should at least appear to be exchanging -with ordinary interest the ordinary inanities of such an occasion." - -[Illustration: "I suppose it is necessary that we should at least appear -to be exchanging the ordinary inanities."] - -She bowed, and then after a moment's silence added: - -"I have nothing to say which could possibly interest you, and suggest -that we do what I have heard has been done under similar circumstances, -and simply count." - -I thought of the molten metal pourable down an offender's throat. And -with the thought came another: Did it mean that she was going to marry -that young Canter? It was as if one who had entered Eden and -discovered Eve, had suddenly found the serpent coiling himself between -them. - -"Very well." I was now really angry. I had hoped up to this time that -some means for reconciliation might be found, but this dashed my hope. I -felt that I was the aggrieved person, and I determined to prove to her -that I would make no concession. I was not her slave. "Very well, -then--one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight--nine, ten, eleven, -twelve--thirteen," I said, looking straight ahead of me and dropping -every syllable as if it were an oath. She gave me a barely perceptible -side glance. I think I had taken her aback by my prompt compliance. She -hesitated a moment. - -"Or, as that is not very amusing, suppose we cap verses? I hear you know -a great deal of poetry--Mr. Wolffert told me. I never knew any one with -such a memory as his." I recognized the suggestion as a flag of truce. - -I bowed, and as, of course, "Mary had a little lamb," was the first -thing that popped into my head with its hint of personal application, I -foolishly quoted the first verse, intending her to make the personal -application. - -She was prompt to continue it, with, I thought, a little sub-tone of -mischief in her voice: - - "It followed her to school one day, - Which was against the rule," - -she said demurely. There she stopped, so I took up the challenge. - - "Which made the children laugh and say - 'A lamb's a little fool.'" - -It was a silly and inept ending, I knew as soon as I had -finished--still, it conveyed my meaning. - -She paused a moment and evidently started to look at me, but as -evidently she thought better of it. She, however, murmured, "I thought -we would quote verses, not make them." - -I took this to be a confession that she was not able to make them, and I -determined to show how much cleverer I was; so, without noticing the cut -of the eye which told of her wavering, I launched out: - - "There was a young lady of fashion, - Who, finding she'd made quite a mash on - A certain young swain, - Who built castles in Spain, - Fell straight in a terrible passion." - -To this she responded with a promptness which surprised me: - - "A certain young lady of fashion, - Had very good grounds for her passion, - It sprang from the pain - Of a terrible strain - On her friendship, and thus laid the lash on." - -I felt that I must be equal to the situation, so I began rapidly: - - "I'm sure the young man was as guiltless - As infant unborn and would wilt less - If thrown in the fire - Than under her ire----" - -"Than under her ire," I repeated to myself. "Than under the ire"--what -the dickens will rhyme with "wilt less"? We had reached the dining-room -by this time and I could see that she was waiting with a provoking -expression of satisfaction on her face over my having stalled in my -attempt at a rhyme. I placed her in her chair and, as I took my own -seat, a rhyme came to me--a poor one, but yet a rhyme: - - "And since, Spanish castles he's built less," - -I said calmly as I seated myself, quite as if it had come easily. - -"I was wondering how you'd get out of that," she said with a little -smile which dimpled her cheek beguilingly. "You know you might have -said, - - "'And since, milk to weep o'er he's spilt less'; - -or even, - - "'And since, striped mosquitoes he's kilt less.' - -Either would have made quite as good a rhyme and sense, too." - -I did not dare let her see how true I thought this. It would never do to -let her make fun of me. So I kept my serious air. - -I determined to try a new tack and surprise her. I had a few shreds of -Italian left from a time when I had studied the poets as a refuge from -the desert dulness of my college course, and now having, in a pause, -recalled the lines, I dropped, as though quite naturally, Dante's -immortal wail: - - 'Nessun maggior dolore - Che recordarci del tempo felice - Nella miseria.' - -I felt sure that this would at least impress her with my culture, while -if by any chance she knew the lines, which I did not apprehend, it would -impress her all the more and might prove a step toward a reconciliation. - -For a moment she said nothing, then she asked quietly, "How does the -rest of it go?" - -She had me there, for I did not know the rest of the quotation. - - "'E ciò sa il tuo dottore,'" - -she said with a cut of her eye, and a liquid tone that satisfied me I -had, as the saying runs, "stepped from the frying-pan into the fire." - -She glanced at me with a smile in her eyes that reminded me, through I -know not what subtle influence, of Spring, but as I was unresponsive she -could not tell whether I was in earnest or was jesting. - -I relapsed into silence and took my soup, feeling that I was getting -decidedly the worst of it, when I heard her murmuring so softly as -almost to appear speaking to herself: - - "'The time has come,' the Walrus said, - 'To talk of other things-- - Of ships and shoes and sealing-wax, - And cabbages and Kings.'" - -I glanced at her to find her eyes downcast, but a beguiling little -dimple was flickering near the corners of her mouth and her long lashes -caught me all anew. My heart gave a leap. It happened that I knew my -Alice much better than my Dante, so when she said, "You can talk, can't -you?" I answered quietly, and quite as if it were natural to speak in -verse: - - "'In my youth,' said his father, 'I took to the Law, - And argued each case with my wife, - And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw - Has lasted the rest of my life.'" - -She gave a little subdued gurgle of laughter as she took up the next -verse: - - "'You are old,' said the youth. 'One would hardly suppose - That your eye was as steady as ever, - Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose-- - What made you so awfully clever?'" - -I hoped that she was embarrassed when I found that she had taken my -napkin by mistake, and she was undoubtedly so when she discovered that -she had it. - -"I beg your pardon," she said as she handed me hers. - -I bowed. - -With that, seeing my chance, I turned and spoke to the lady on my other -side, with whom I was soon in an animated discussion, but my attention -was not so engrossed by her that I did not get secret enjoyment out of -the fact when I discovered that the elderly man on the other side of -Miss Leigh was as deaf as a post and that she had to repeat every word -that she said to him. - -The lady on the other side of me was rambling on about something, but -just what, I had not the least idea (except that it related to the -problem-novel, a form of literature that I detest), as I was soon quite -engrossed in listening to the conversation between Eleanor Leigh and her -deaf companion, in which my name, which appeared to have caught the -gentleman's attention, was figuring to some extent. - -"Any relation to my old friend, Henry Glave?" I heard him ask in what he -doubtless imagined to be a whisper. - -"Yes, I think so," said Miss Leigh. - -"You say he is not?" - -"No, I did not say so; I think he is." - -"He is a fine lawyer," I heard him say, and I was just pluming myself on -the rapid extension of my reputation, when he added, "He is an old -friend of your father's, I know. I was glad to hear he had come up to -represent your father in his case against those rascals.--A friend of -yours, too," were the next words I heard, for decency required me to -appear to be giving some attention to my other neighbor, whom I devoutly -wished in Ballyhac, so I was trying resolutely, though with but -indifferent success, to keep my attention on the story she was telling -about some one whom, like Charles Lamb, I did not know, but was ready to -damn at a venture. - -"He told me he came on your account, as much as on your father's," said -the gentleman, rallyingly. "You had better look out. These old bachelors -are very susceptible. No fool like an old fool, you know." - -To this Miss Eleanor made some laughing reply, from which I gathered -that her neighbor was a bachelor himself, for he answered in the high -key which he mistook for a whisper: - -"You had better not say that to me, for if you do, I'll ask you to marry -me before the dessert." - -I was recalled to myself by my other neighbor, who had been talking -steadily, asking me suddenly, and in a tone which showed she demanded an -answer: - -"What do you think of that?" - -"Why, I think it was quite natural," I said. - -"You do?" - -"Yes, I do," I declared firmly. - -"You think it was natural for him to run off with his own -daughter-in-law!" Her eyes were wide with astonishment. - -"Well, not precisely natural, but--under the circumstances, you see, it -was certainly more natural than for him to run off with his -mother-in-law--you will have to admit that." - -"I admit nothing of the kind," she declared, with some heat. "I am a -mother-in-law myself, and I must say I think the jibes at mothers-in-law -are very uncalled for." - -"Oh! now you put me out of court," I said. "I did not mean to be -personal. Of course, there are mothers-in-law and mothers-in-law." - -Happily, at this moment the gentleman on her other side insisted on -securing her attention, and I turned just in time to catch the dimples -of amusement that were playing in Eleanor Leigh's face. She had -evidently heard my mistake. - -"Oh! he is so deaf!" she murmured, half turning to me, though I was not -quite sure that she was not speaking to herself. The next second she -settled the question. "He is so distressingly deaf," she repeated in an -undertone, with the faintest accent of appeal for sympathy in her voice. -I again recognized the flag of truce. But I replied calmly: - - "I passed by his garden and marked with one eye - How the owl and the panther were sharing a pie. - The panther took pie-crust and gravy and meat, - While the owl had the dish as its share of the treat." - -The color mantled in her cheek and she raised her head slightly. - -"Are you going to keep that up? I suppose we shall have to talk a -little. I think we are attracting attention. For Heaven's sake, don't -speak so loud! We are being observed." - -But I continued: - - "When the pie was all finished, the owl, as a boon, - Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon." - -"It is very rude of you to go on in that way when I am speaking. You -remind me of a machine," she smiled. "Here am I stuck between two men, -one of whom cannot hear a word I say, while the other does nothing but -run on like a machine." I observed, with deep content, that she was -becoming exasperated. - -At that moment the hostess leant forward and said: - -"What are you two so interested in discussing there? I have been -watching, and you have not stopped a minute." - -Eleanor Leigh burst into a laugh. "Mr. Glave is talking Arabic to me." - -"Arabic!" exclaimed the hostess. "Mr. Glave, you have been in the East, -have you?" - -"Yes, he came from the East where the wise men always come from," said -Miss Leigh. Then turning to me she said in an undertone, "You see what I -told you." - -For reply, I simply quoted on, though I had a little pang as I saw the -shadow come into her eyes and the smile leave her mouth. - - "My father was deaf, - And my mother was dumb, - And to keep myself company, - I beat the drum." - -"I think that was a very good occupation for you," she said, turning -away, with her head very high. - -"Will you let me say something to you?" she said in a low tone a moment -later, and, without waiting, she added: - -"I think it was rather nasty in me to say what I said to you when you -first came in, but you had treated me so rudely when I spoke to you on -the street." - -"You do not call it rude not to answer a letter when a gentleman writes -to explain an unfortunate mistake, and then cut him publicly?" - -"I did not receive it until afterward," she said. "I was away from town, -and as to cutting you--I don't know what you are talking about." - -"At the Charity Fair." - -"I never saw you. I wondered you were not there." - -Had the earth opened, I could not have felt more astounded, and had it -opened near me I should possibly have sprung in in my confusion. I had, -as usual, simply made a fool of myself, and what to do I scarcely knew. -At this instant the hostess arose, and the dinner was over and with it I -feared my chance was over too. - -"Give me a moment. I must have one moment," I said as she passed me on -her way out of the dining-room with the other ladies, her head held very -high. - -She inclined her head and said something in so low a tone that I did not -catch it. - -King James I. never detested tobacco as I did those cigars smoked that -evening. When, at last, the host moved to return to the drawing-room, I -bolted in only to be seized on by my hostess and presented to a -middle-aged and waistless lady who wanted to ask me about the Pooles, -whom she had heard I knew. She had heard that Lilian Poole had not -married very happily. "Did I know?" - -"No, I did not know," nor, in fact, did I care, though I could not say -so. Then another question: "Could I tell why all the men appeared to -find Miss Leigh so very attractive?" Yes, I thought I could tell -that--"Because she is very attractive." - -"Oh well, yes, I suppose she is--pretty and all that, with a sort of -kitteny softness--but----" - -"There is no 'but' about it," I interrupted brusquely--"she is just what -you said--very attractive. For one thing, she has brains; for another, -heart. Neither of them is so common as not to be attractive." I thought -of the young tigress concealed in that "kitteny softness" of which the -lady spoke, and was determined not to permit the sly cat to see what I -really felt. - -"Of course, you know that she is going to marry Mr. Canter? He is the -best _parti_ in town." - -"Of course, I do not know anything of the kind," I said bowing. "Since I -had the honor of sitting by her I am thinking of marrying her myself." - -"I know it. They all fall at the first encounter!" exclaimed the lady, -and I saw she had no humor, and decided to hedge. "I only mean that I do -not believe Miss Leigh would marry Mr. Canter or any one else for his -money, or for any other reason except the best." - -Finally, having escaped from her, I was just making my way toward Miss -Leigh, who had been standing up talking to two men who on entering the -room had promptly sought her out, when a servant entered and spoke to -the hostess, who immediately crossed over and gave his message to Miss -Leigh. "Mr. James Canter has called for you; must you go?" - -"Yes, I fear I must." So with hardly a glance at me she passed out, -leaving the room so dark that I thought the lights had been dimmed, but -I discovered that it was only that Miss Eleanor Leigh had left. I could -not in decency leave at once, though I confess the place had lost its -charm for me, especially since I learned that Miss Leigh's escort for -the ball was Mr. James Canter. I had other reasons than jealousy for -preferring that he should not be Eleanor Leigh's escort. In my -meditations that night as I walked the streets, Mr. James Canter held a -somewhat conspicuous place. - -James Canter was possibly the most attentive of all the beaux Miss Leigh -had, and they were more numerous than I at that time had any idea of. He -was prospectively among the wealthiest young men in the city, for his -father, who idolized him, was one of the largest capitalists in the -State. He was, as the stout lady had said, certainly esteemed by -ambitious mammas among the most advantageous _partis_ the city could -boast of. And he was of all, without doubt, the most talked of. -Moreover, he had many friends, was lavish in the expenditure of his -money beyond the dream of extravagance, and what was called, not without -some reason, a good fellow. Before I met him I had already had a glimpse -of him as he "bucked" against his rival, Count Pushkin, on the night -when, dejected and desperate, I, in a fit of weakness, went into the -gambling-house determined to stake my last dollar on the turn of the -wheel, and the sight of Pushkin saved me. But it was after I met him -that I came to know what the pampered young man was. I was beginning now -to be thrown with some of the lawyers and this had led to further -acquaintances, among them young Canter. At first, I rather liked him -personally, for he was against Pushkin and his gay manner was -attractive. He was good-looking enough after the fleshly kind--a big, -round, blondish man, only he was too fat and at twenty-eight had the -waist and jowl of a man of forty who had had too many dinners and drunk -too much champagne. But when I came to know him I could not see that he -had a shred of principle of any kind whatsoever. His reputation among -his friends was that had he applied himself to business, he would have -made a reputation equal to his father's, which was that of a shrewd, -far-sighted, cool-headed man of business who could "see a dollar as far -as the best of them," but that he was squandering his talents in sowing -a crop of wild oats so plentiful that it was likely to make a hole even -in his father's accumulated millions, and its reaping might be anywhere -between the poor-house and the grave. I knew nothing of this at the -time, and after I came to know him as I did later, my judgment of him -took form from the fact that I discovered he not only did not tell the -truth, but had lost the power even to recognize it. Still, I think my -real appraisement of him came when I discovered that he was paying -assiduous attentions to Miss Leigh. I could not help remarking the -frequency with which I found his name in juxtaposition with hers in the -published accounts of social functions, where "Mr. Canter led the -cotillion with Miss Leigh," or "Mr. Canter drove his coach with Miss -Leigh on the box seat," etc., etc., and as my acquaintance began to -extend among the young men about town, I heard more than occasional -conjectures as to their future. It appeared to be accepted rather as a -matter of course that the result lay entirely with the young man. It was -a view that I fiercely rejected in my heart, but I could say nothing -beyond a repudiation of such a view in general. - -In view of my knowledge of Mr. Canter, it was natural enough that I -should be enraged to find him the escort of Eleanor Leigh, and I fear my -temper rather showed itself in the conversation which took place and -which soon became general, partly because of the earnestness with which -I expressed my views on the next subject that came up. The two or three -young girls of the company had left at the same time with Miss Leigh, -and the ladies who remained were, for the most part, married women of -that indefinite age which follows youth after a longer or shorter -interval. They had all travelled and seen a good deal of the world, and -they knew a good deal of it; at least, some of them did and they thought -that they knew more than they actually did know. - -They agreed with more unanimity than they had yet shown on any subject -that America was hopelessly bourgeois. Listening to them, I rather -agreed with them. - -"Take our literature, our stage, our novels," said one, a blonde lady of -some thirty-five years, though she would, possibly, have repudiated a -lustrum and a half of the measure. - -"You differentiate the literature and the novels?" I interrupted. - -"Yes. I might--but--I mean the lot. How provincial they are!" - -"Yes, they appear so. Well?" - -"They do not dare to discuss anything large and vital." - -"Oh! yes, they dare. They are daring enough, but they don't know -how--they are stupid." - -"No, they are afraid." - -"Afraid? Of what?" - -"Of public opinion--of the bourgeois so-called virtue of the middle -class who control everything." - -"That is the only valid argument I ever heard in favor of the -bourgeois," I said. - -"What do you mean? Don't you agree with me?" - -"I certainly do not. I may not seek virtue and ensue it; but at least I -revere it." - -"Do you mean that you think we should not write or talk of -anything--forbidden?" - -"That depends on what you mean by forbidden. If you mean----" - -"I think there should be no subject forbidden," interrupted the lady by -whom I had sat at table, a stout and tightly laced person of some forty -summers. "Why shouldn't I talk of any subject I please?" She seemed to -appeal to me, so I answered her. - -"I do not at this instant think of any reason except that it might not -be decent." - -This raised an uncertain sort of laugh and appeared for a moment to -stagger her; but she was game, and rallied. - -"I know--that is the answer I always get." - -"Because it is the natural answer." - -"But I want to know why? Why is it indecent?" - -"Simply because it is. Indecent means unseemly. Your sex were slaves, -they were weaker physically, less robust; they were made beasts of -burden, were beaten and made slaves. Then men, for their own pleasure, -lifted them up a little and paid court to them, and finally the idea and -age of chivalry came--based on the high Christian morality. You were -placed on a pinnacle. Men loved and fought for your favor and made it -the guerdon of their highest emprise, guarded you with a mist of -adoration, gave you a halo, worshipped you as something cleaner and -better and purer than themselves; built up a wall of division and -protection for you. Why should you go and cast it down, fling it away, -and come down in the mire and dust and dirt?" - -"But I don't want to be adored--set up on a pedestal." - -"Then you probably will not be," interrupted my deaf neighbor. - -"I want to be treated as an equal--as an--an--intelligent being." - -"I should think that would depend on yourself. I do not quite understand -whom you wish to be the equal of--of men? Men are a very large -class--some are very low indeed." - -"Oh! You know what I mean--of course, I don't mean that sort." - -"You mean gentlemen?" - -"Certainly." - -"Then I assure you you cannot discuss indecent subjects in mixed -company; gentlemen never do. Nor write coarse books--gentlemen never do -nowadays--nor discuss them either." - -"Do you mean to say that great novelists never discuss such questions?" -she demanded triumphantly. - -"No, but it is all in the manner--the motive. I have no objection to the -matter--generally, provided it be properly handled--but the obvious -intention--the rank indecentness of it. See how Scott or George Eliot, -or Tolstoi or Turgénieff, or, later on, even Zola, handles such vital -themes. How different their motive from the reeking putrescence of the -so-called problem-novel." - -"Oh! dear! they must be very bad indeed!" exclaimed a lady, shocked by -the sound of my adjectives. - -"They are," suddenly put in my oldest neighbor, who had been listening -intently with his hand behind his ear, "only you ladies don't know how -bad they are or you would not discuss them with men." - -This closed the discussion and a group of ladies near me suddenly -branched off into another subject and one which interested me more than -the discussion of such literature as the trash which goes by the name of -the problem novel. - -"Who is Eleanor Leigh in love with?" asked some one irrelevantly--a Mrs. -Arrow--whose mind appeared much given to dwelling on such problems. She -addressed the company generally, and possibly my former neighbor at the -table in particular. - -"Is she in love?" asked another. - -"Certainly, I never saw any one so changed. Why, she has been moping so -I scarcely know her--and she has taken to charity. That's a sure sign. I -think it must be that young preacher she talks so much about." - -"Well, I don't know who she is in love with," said the lady who had sat -next to me at dinner, "but I know who she is going to marry. She is -going to marry Jim Canter. Her aunt has made that match." - -"Oh! do you think so?" demanded our hostess, who had joined the group. -"I don't believe she will marry any one she is not in love with, and I -can't believe she is in love with that fat, coarse, dissipated creature. -He is simply repulsive to me." - -I began to conceive an even higher opinion of my hostess than I had -already had. - -"I don't think it is anybody," continued our hostess. - -"Oh! yes, you do--you think it is Doctor Capon." - -"Doctor Capon! It is much more likely to be Mr. Marvel." - -"Mr. Marvel! Who is he?--Oh, yes, the young preacher who turned Jew and -was put out of his church. I remember now." - -"Is Mr. Marvel a Jew?" I inquired. "Oh! yes, indeed, and a terrible -Socialist." - -"Ah, I did not know that." - -"I heard she was going to marry a Jew," interjected another lady -corroboratively, "but I must say it looks very much like Mr. Canter to -me." - -"Oh! she wouldn't marry a Jew?" suggested Mrs. Arrow. "I heard there was -a young lawyer or something." - -"She would if she'd a mind to," said our hostess. - -"I still stand by Doctor Capon," declared Mrs. Arrow. "He is so -refined." - -"And I by Jim Canter--I thought at one time it was Count Pushkin; but -since Milly McSheen has taken him away, the other seems to be the -winning card. I must say I think the count would have been the better -match of the two." - -"I don't think that," exclaimed the other lady. "And neither would you, -if you knew him." - -"Possibly, she knows the other," I suggested. - -"Oh! no--you see she could get rid of the count, if he proved too -objectionable, and then she would still have the title." - -"I never heard a more infamous proposal," I said in an aside to our -hostess. She laughed. "No, did you--but she was only jesting----" - -"Not she!" I was in no mood to tolerate jesting on the subject of -Eleanor Leigh's marriage. My aside to our hostess drew the attention of -the others to me, and Mrs. Arrow suddenly said, "Mr. Glave, which would -you say? You know them both, don't you?" - -"I do." - -"Well, which would you say?" - -"Neither," said I. I wanted to add that I would cheerfully murder them -both before I would allow either of them to destroy Eleanor Leigh's -life; but I contented myself with my brief reply. - -"Oh! Mr. Glave is evidently one of her victims," laughed our hostess, -for which I was grateful to her. - -I came away from my friend's with the heroic determination to prevent -Miss Leigh's life from being ruined and to accomplish this by the -satisfactory method of capturing her myself. My resolve was a little -dampened by reading in a newspaper next day the headlines announcing an -"Important Engagement," which though no names were used pointed clearly -at Miss Leigh and the hopeful heir and partner of Mr. James Canter, Sr. -Reading carefully the article, I found that the engagement was only -believed to exist. I felt like a reprieved criminal. - -He who has not felt the pangs of a consuming passion has no conception -of the true significance of life. The dull, cold, indifferent lover -knows nothing of the half-ecstatic anguish of the true lover or the -wholly divine joy of reconciliation even in anticipation. As well may -the frozen pole dream of the sun-bathed tropic. It was this joy that I -hugged in my heart even in face of the declaration of her expected -engagement. - -Next day I was talking to two or three young fellows when Canter and -some episode in which he had figured as rather more defiant than usual -of public opinion, came up, and one of them said to another, a friend of -his and an acquaintance of mine, "What is Jim going to do when he gets -married? He'll have to give up his 'friends' then. He can't be running -two establishments." - -"Oh! Jim ain't going to get married. He's just fooling around." - -"Bet you--the old man's wild for it." - -"Bet you--not now. He can't. Why, that woman--" - -"Oh! he can pension her off." - -"Her?--which her?" - -"Well, all of 'em. If he don't get married soon, he won't be fit to -marry." - -It was here that I entered the conversation. They had not mentioned any -name--they had been too gentlemanly to do so. But I knew whom they had -in mind, and I was inwardly burning. - -"He isn't fit to marry now," I said suddenly. - -"What!" They both turned to me in surprise. - -"No man who professes to be in love with any good woman," I said, "and -lives as he lives is fit for any woman to marry. I am speaking -generally," I added, to guard against the suspicion that I knew whom -they referred to. "I know Mr. Canter but slightly; but what I say -applies to him too." - -"Oh! you'd cut out a good many," laughed one of the young men with a -glance at his friend. - -"No, gentlemen, I stand on my proposition. The man who is making love to -a pure woman with a harlot's kisses on his lips is not worthy of either. -He ought to be shot." - -"There'd be a pretty big exodus if your views were carried out," said -one of them. - -"Well, I don't want to pose as any saint. I am no better than some other -men; but, at least, I have some claim to decency, and that is -fundamental. Your two-establishment gentry are no more nor less than a -lot of thorough-paced blackguards." - -They appeared to be somewhat impressed by my earnestness, even though -they laughed at it. "There are a good many of them," they said. "Your -friends, the Socialists----" - -"Yes. I know. The ultra-Socialist's views I reprobate, but, at least, -he is sincere. He is against any formal hard and fast contract, and his -motive is, however erroneous, understandable. He believes it would -result in an uplift--in an increase of happiness for all. He is, of -course, hopelessly wrong. But here is a man who is debasing himself and -others--all others--and, above all, the one he is pretending to exalt -above all. I say he is a low-down scoundrel to do it. He is prostituting -the highest sentiment man has ever imagined." - -"Well, at any rate, you are vehement," said one. - -"You've cut Jim out," said the other. - -The conversation took place in a sort of lounging-room adjoining a -down-town café frequented by young men. At this moment who should walk -in but Mr. James Canter himself. The talk ceased as suddenly as cut-off -steam, and when one of the young men after an awkward silence made a -foolish remark about the fine day, which was in reality rainy and cold, -Canter's curiosity was naturally excited. - -"What were you fellows talking about? Women?" - -"No," said one of the others--"nothing particular." - -"Yes!" I said, "we were--talking about women." - -"Whose women?" - -"Yours." I looked him steadily in the eye. - -He started, but recovered himself. - -"Which of 'em?" he inquired as he flung himself into a chair and looked -around for a match for the cigarette which he took from a jewel-studded -gold case. "I am rather well endowed with them at present. What were you -saying?" - -I repeated my remark about the two-establishment gentry. His face -flushed angrily; but my steady eye held him in check and he took a long, -inhaling breath. - -"Well, I don't give a blank what you think about it, or anything else." -He expelled the smoke from his lungs. - -"Perhaps--but that does not affect the principle. It stands. You may not -care about the Rock of Gibraltar; but it stands and is the key to the -situation." - -He was in a livid rage, and I was prepared for the attack which I -expected him to make; but he restrained himself. His forte was -insolence. - -"You teach Sunday-school, don't you?" - -I thought this was a reference to one whose name I did not mean his lips -to sully, and I determined to forestall him. - -"I do," I said quietly. "I teach for Mr. Marvel." - -"I know--the psalm-singing parson who has made all that trouble in this -town--he and his Jew partner. We are going to break them up." - -"Both are men whose shoes you are not fit to clean; and as to making -trouble, the trouble was made by those a good deal nearer you than John -Marvel--your precious firm and your side-partners--Coll McSheen and -David Wringman." - -"Well, you'd better confine your labors to your dirty Jews and not try -to interfere in the affairs of gentlemen." - -"As to the latter, I never interfere in the affairs of gentlemen, and -as to the dirty Jews, I assure you they are not as dirty as you are; for -their dirt is all outside while yours is within." - -I had supposed he would resent this, but he had his reasons for not -doing so, though they were none too creditable to him. Mr. Canter was -too bold with women and not bold enough with men. And a little later it -transpired that with one woman, at least, he was as tame as he was with -the other sex. The woman the young men referred to kept him in fear of -his life for years, and he had neither the physical nor moral courage to -break away from her. - - - - -XXXV - -MR. LEIGH HAS A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE MADE HIM - - -Though I had not acted on the principle, I had always felt that a young -man had no right to pay his addresses to a young lady without giving -some account of himself to her father, or whoever might stand in the -relation of her natural protector; certainly that it was incumbent on a -gentleman to do so. I felt, therefore, that it was necessary for me -before proceeding further in my pursuit of Eleanor Leigh to declare my -intention to her father. My declaration to her had been the result of a -furious impulse to which I had yielded; but now that I had cooled, my -principle reasserted itself. One trouble was that I did not know Mr. -Leigh. I determined to consult John Marvel, and I had a sneaking hope -that he might not think it necessary for me to speak about it to him. I -accordingly went around to his room and after he had gotten through with -a tramp or two, who had come to bleed him of any little pittance which -he might have left, he came in. I bolted into the middle of my subject. - -"John, I am in love." I fancied that his countenance changed slightly--I -thought, with surprise. - -"Yes. I know you are." - -"How did you know it? I am in love with Eleanor Leigh." His countenance -changed a shade more, and he looked away and swallowed with a little -embarrassment. - -"Yes. I know that too." - -"How did you know it?" - -He smiled. John sometimes smiled rather sadly. - -"I want you to help me." - -"How?" - -"I don't know. I have to go and ask Mr. Leigh." - -"What! Has she accepted you?" His face was, as I recalled later, full of -feeling of some kind. - -"No. I wish to Heaven she had! If anything, she has rejected me,--but -that is nothing. I am going to win her and marry her. I am going to ask -her father's permission to pay my addresses to her, and then I don't -care whether he gives it or not.--Yes, I do care, too; but whether he -does or not I am going to win her and him and marry her." - -"Henry," he said gently, "you deserve to win her, and I believe, -maybe--if--" He went off into a train of reflection, which I broke in -on. - -"I don't think I do," I said honestly, sobered by his gentleness; "but -that makes no difference. I love her better than all the rest of the -world, and I mean to win her or die trying. So, none of your 'maybes' -and 'ifs'. I want your advice how to proceed. I have not a cent in the -world; am, in fact, in debt; and I feel that I must tell her father -so." - -"That will scarcely tend to strengthen your chances with him," said -John. My spirits rose. - -"I can't help that. I feel that I must tell him!" Though I spoke so -grandly, my tone contained a query. - -"Yes, that's right," said John decisively. His mind had been working -slowly. My spirits drooped. - -I was not conscious till then how strongly I had hoped that he might -disagree with me. My heart quite sank at the final disappearance of my -hope. But I was in for it now. My principle was strong enough when -strengthened by John's invincible soundness. - -I walked into the building in which Mr. Leigh had his offices, boldly -enough. If my heart thumped, at least, I had myself well in hand. The -clerk to whom I addressed myself said he was not in, but was expected in -shortly. Could he do anything for me? No, I wanted to see Mr. Leigh -personally. Would I take a seat? - -I took a chair, but soon made up my mind that if I sat there five -minutes I would not be able to speak. I sat just one minute. At least, -that was the time my watch registered, though I early discovered that -there was no absolute standard of the divisions of time. The hands of a -clock may record with regularity the revolutions of the earth, the moon, -or the stars; but not the passage of time as it affects the human mind. -The lover in his mistress' presence, and the lover waiting for his -mistress, or for that matter, for her father, has no equal gauge of -measurement of Time's passage. With the one the winged sandals of -Mercury were not so fleet, with the other, the leaden feet of Chronos -were not so dull. - -I decided that I must get out into the air; so, mumbling something to -the surprised clerk about returning shortly, I bolted from the office -and walked around the block. As I look back at it now, I was a rather -pitiable object. I was undoubtedly in what, if I were speaking and not -writing, I should call "the deuce of a funk"; but for the sake of fine -English, I will term it a panic. My heart was beating, my mouth was dry, -my knees were weak. I came very near darting off every time I reached a -corner, and I should certainly have done so but for the knowledge that -if I did I should never get up the courage to come back again. So I -stuck and finally screwed up my courage to return to the office; but -every object and detail in those streets through which I passed that -morning are fastened in my mind as if they had been stamped there by a -stroke of lightning. - -When I walked in again the clerk said, Yes, Mr. Leigh had returned. -Would I take a seat for a moment? I sat down in what was a chair of -torture. A man under certain stress is at a great disadvantage in a -chair. If he be engaged in reflection, the chair is a proper place for -him; but if in action, he should stand. Every moment was an added burden -for me to carry, which was not lightened when young Canter walked out of -the office and with a surly glance at me passed on. - -The clerk took my card, entered the door, and closed it after him. I -heard a dull murmur of voices within, and then after what appeared to -me an interminable wait, he reappeared and silently motioned me in. I -hated him for months for that silent gesture. It seemed like Fate. - -As I entered, a man past middle age with a strong face, a self-contained -mouth and jaw, a calm brow, and keen eyes glanced up from a note he was -writing and said: - -"Excuse me a moment if you please. Won't you take a seat?" - -I sat with the perspiration breaking out as I watched the steady run of -his pen over the sheet. I felt as a criminal must who watches the judge -preparing to pass sentence. At length he was through. Then he turned to -me. - -"Well, Mr. Glave?" - -I plunged at once into my subject. - -"Mr. Leigh, I am a young lawyer here, and I have come to ask your -permission to pay my addresses to your daughter." - -"Wha-t!" His jaw positively fell, he was so surprised. But I did not -give him time. - -"I have no right to ask it--to ask any favor of you, much less a favor -which I feel is the greatest any man can ask at your hands. But I--love -her--and--I--I simply ask that you will give me your consent to win her -if I can." I was very frightened, but my voice had steadied me, and I -was gazing straight in his eyes. - -"Does my daughter know of this extraor--of this?" He asked the question -very slowly, and his eyes were holding mine. - -"I hardly know what she may divine. I told her once that I thought a -gentleman should not--should not try to marry a gir--a lady until he had -asked her father's permission, and she is so clear-minded that I hardly -know----" - -"Does she know of your attachment?" - -"Yes, sir. I mean, I told her once--I----" - -"I thought you said you thought a gentleman had no right to speak to her -until he had gained her father's consent!" A slight scorn had crept into -his face. - -"Yes, sir, I did--something like that, though not quite that--but----" - -"How then do you reconcile the two?" He spoke calmly, and I observed a -certain likeness to his daughter. - -"I do not--I cannot. I do not try. I only say that in my cooler moments -my principle is stronger than my action. I gave way to my feelings once, -and declared myself, but when I got hold of myself I felt I should come -to you and give you some account of myself." - -"I see." I began to hope again, as he reflected. - -"Does my daughter reciprocate this--ah--attachment? - -"No, sir. I wish to God she did; but I hope that possibly in time--I -might prevail on her by my devotion." I was stammering along awkwardly -enough. - -"Ah!" - -"I am only asking your permission to declare myself her suitor to try to -win--what I would give the world to win, if I had it. I have no hope -except that which comes from my devotion, and my determination to win. -I have nothing in the world except my practice; but mean to succeed." I -had got more confidence now. I went on to give him an account of myself, -and I tried to tell him the truth, though doubtless I gave myself the -natural benefit of a friendly historian. I told him frankly of my -unfortunate experience in the matter of the contribution to the -_Trumpet_--though I did not conceal my views on the main subject, of the -corporation's relation to the public. I must say that Mr. Leigh appeared -an interested auditor, though he did not help me out much. At the end, -he said: - -"Mr. Glave, I have some confidence in my daughter, sufficient--I may -say--to have decided for some time back to allow her to manage her own -affairs, and unless there were some insuperable objection in any given -case, I should not interfere. This is one of the vital affairs in life -in which a man has to fight his own battle. I refer you to my daughter. -If there were an insuperable objection, of course I should interfere." I -wondered if he knew of Canter, and took some hope from his words. - -The only thing that gave me encouragement was that he said, just as I -was leaving: - -"Mr. Glave, I used to know your father, I believe. We were at college -together." I think I must have shown some feeling in my face, for he -added, "We were very good friends," and held out his hand. I came away -drenched with perspiration; but I felt that I had made a step in the -direction of winning Eleanor Leigh, and almost as if I had gained a -friend. At least, I liked him, as self-contained as he was, for he -looked at times like his daughter. - -That evening Miss Leigh observed something unusual in her father's -expression, and finally, after waiting a little while for him to -disclose what he had on his mind, she could stand it no longer. - -"Dad, what is it?" she demanded. - -Mr. Leigh gazed at her quizzically. - -"Well, I have had a rather strenuous day. In the first place, I got a -letter from Henry Glave." Miss Eleanor's eyes opened. - -"From Henry Glave! What in the world is he writing to you about?" - -"He has offered me assistance," said Mr. Leigh. He took from his pocket -a letter, and tossed it across the table to her, observing her with -amusement as her expression changed. It, possibly, was not the Henry -Glave she had had in mind. - -As she read, her face brightened. "Isn't that fine! I thought he -would--" She stopped suddenly. - -"You wrote to him?" said Mr. Leigh. - -"Yes, but I didn't know he would. I only asked his advice--I thought -maybe, he possibly might--knowing how he liked you. This will help us -out? You will accept his offer, of course?" - -Mr. Leigh nodded. "I am considering it. It was certainly very good in -him. Not every man is as grateful these times. My only question is -whether I ought to accept his offer." - -"Why not?" - -Mr. Leigh did not answer for a moment, he was deep in reflection, -reviewing a past in which two older men who bore my name had borne a -part, and was trying to look forward into the future. Presently he -replied: - -"Well, the fact is, I am very hard pressed." - -For answer Eleanor sprang up and ran around to him, and throwing her arm -about his neck, kissed him. "You poor, dear old dad. I knew you were in -trouble; but I did not like to urge you till you got ready. Tell me -about it." - -Mr. Leigh smiled. It was a patronizing way she had with him which he -liked while he was amused by it. - -"Yes. I'm--the fact is, I'm pretty near--" He paused and reflected; then -began again, "What would you say if I were to tell you that I am almost -at the end of my resources?" - -The girl's countenance fell for a second, then brightened again almost -immediately. - -"I shouldn't mind it a bit, except for you." - -Mr. Leigh heaved a sigh which might have been a sigh of relief. - -"You don't know what it means, my dear." - -"Oh! Yes, I do." - -"No-o. It means giving up--everything. Not only all luxuries; but--" He -gazed about him at the sumptuous surroundings in his dining-room, "but -all this--everything. Horses, carriages, servants, pictures--everything. -Do you understand?" - -"Everything?" Eleanor's voice and look betrayed that she was a little -startled. - -"Yes," said her father with a nod and a sigh. "If I assign, it would all -have to go, and we should have to begin afresh." - -"Very well. I am ready. Of course, I don't want to be broke; but I am -ready. Whatever you think is right. And I would rather give up -everything--everything, than have you worried as you have been for ever -so long. I have seen it." - -"Nelly, you are a brick," said her father fondly, looking at her in -admiration. "How did you ever happen to be your Aunt Sophy's niece?" - -"Her half-niece," corrected the girl, smiling. - -"It was the other half," mused Mr. Leigh. - -"Tell me about it, father. How did it come? When did it happen?" she -urged, smoothing tenderly the hair on his brow. - -"It didn't happen. It came. It has been coming for a long time. It is -the conditions----" - -"I know, those dreadful conditions. How I hate to hear the word! We used -to get them when we were at Miss de Pense's school,--we had to work them -off--and now people are always talking about them." - -"Well, these conditions," said Mr. Leigh smiling, "seem a little more -difficult to work off. I am rated as belonging to the capitalists and as -opposed to the working class. The fact is I am not a capitalist; for my -properties are good only while in active use, all my available surplus -has gone into their betterment for the public use, and I am a -harder-worked man than any laborer or workman in one of my shops or on -one of my lines." - -"That you are!" exclaimed his daughter. - -"I belong to the class that produces, and we are ground between the -upper and the nether millstones. Do you see?" - -Eleanor expressed her assent. - -"The fire, of course, cost us a lot." - -"It was set on fire," interrupted his daughter. "I know it." - -"Well, I don't know--possibly. It looks so. Anyhow, it caught us at the -top notch, and while the insurance amounts to something, the actual loss -was incalculable. Then came the trouble with the bank. So long as I was -there they knew they could not go beyond the law. So Canter and the -others got together, and I got out, and, of course----" - -"I know," said his daughter. - -"They asked me to remain, but--I preferred to be free." - -"So do I." - -"I had an overture to-day from the Canters," said Mr. Leigh, after a -moment of reflection. "I do not quite know what it means, but I think I -do." - -"What was it?" Eleanor looked down with her face slightly averted. - -"Jim Canter came from his father to propose--to suggest a _modus -vivendi_, as it were. It means that they have started a blaze they -cannot extinguish--that they are having trouble with their people, and -fear that our people are coming around, but it means something further, -too, I think." Mr. Leigh ceased talking, and appeared to be reflecting. - -"What?" said the girl, after waiting a moment. - -"You know--your aunt--however--" He paused. - -She rose and faced him. - -"Father, I wouldn't marry him to save his life--and I have told both him -and Aunt Sophia so." Mr. Leigh gave a sigh of relief. - -"You, of course, declined the proposal they made?" said Eleanor. - -"I did--I think they have broken with the Argand interest. I saw your -aunt to-day, and had a talk with her. I think her eyes are opened at -last. I told her a few plain truths." - -He dropped into reflection and a quizzical expression came into his -eyes. - -"I had a very remarkable thing happen to me to-day." - -"What was it?" demanded his daughter. - -"I had an offer of marriage made me." - -Eleanor Leigh's face changed--at first it grew a shade whiter, then a -shade redder. - -"I know who it was," she said quickly. - -"Oh!" Mr. Leigh shut his lips firmly. "I did not know." - -"She is a cat! She has been sending me flowers and opera tickets all -winter, and deluging me with invitations. I knew she was up to -something." She spoke with growing feeling, as her father's eyes rested -on her placidly with an amused expression in them. "I wouldn't be such -easy game. Why, dad, she'd bore you to death--and as to me, I wouldn't -live in the house with her--I couldn't." She stood with mantling cheek -and flashing eye, a young Amazon girded for battle. - -"I will relieve you," said her father. "It is not the feline-natured -lady you have in mind; but a person quite different." Miss Eleanor -looked relieved. - -"Dad--it couldn't be--it was not Aunt Sophia? That would explain a lot -of things. You know I think she's been laying some snares lately. She -even forgave me when I told her the other evening that that was the last -time I would ever accept an invitation from Mr. Canter, even as a favor -to her. Dad, she'd make you miserable. You couldn't." - -"No," said Mr. Leigh. "In fact, it was not a lady at all. It was a -person of the opposite sex, and the proposal was for your hand." - -"Dad! Who was it? Now, dad." She moved around the table to him, as Mr. -Leigh, with eyes twinkling over his victory, shut his mouth firmly. -"Dad, you'd just as well tell me at once, for you know I am going to -know, so you might as well tell me and save yourself trouble. Who was -it?" - -Mr. Leigh took her firmly by the arms and seated her on his knee. - -"Well, it was a young man who appeared quite in earnest." - -"It wasn't--no, I know it wasn't he--he wouldn't have done that--and it -wasn't--" (she pondered) "no, it wasn't he--and it wasn't--" She -suddenly paused. "Tell me, what did he say? How did you like him? What -did you say to him?" - -"So you have settled who it is. Perhaps, you sent him to me?" - -"Indeed, I did not, and I don't know who it was. What did you tell him?" - -"I told him you were of age----" - -"I am not. I am twenty." - -"No, I told him you were too young--to think of such a thing----" - -"I am twenty," repeated the girl. - -"That is what I told him," said Mr. Leigh, "and that I thought you were -able to take care of yourself." - -The girl rested her chin on his head and went off in a reverie. - -"Dad, we must hold together," she said. Her father drew her face down -and kissed her silently. "The man who takes you away from me will have -to answer with his life," he said. - -"There is no one on earth who could," said Eleanor. - - - - -XXXVI - -THE RIOT AND ITS VICTIM - - -It is a terrible thing for a man with a wife and children to see them -wasting away with sheer starvation, to hear his babes crying for bread -and his wife weeping because she cannot get it for them. Some men in -such a situation drown their sorrow in drink; others take a bolder -course, and defy the law or the rules of their order. - -The Railway Company, still being forced to run their cars, undertook to -comply with the requirement, even though the protection of the police -was withheld. The police were instructed, indeed, to be present and keep -the peace, and a few were detailed, but it was known to both sides that -no real protection would be granted. Coll McSheen's order to the force -bore this plainly on its face--so plainly that the conservative papers -roundly denounced him for his hypocrisy, and for the first time began to -side decisively with the company. - -The offer of increased wages to new men was openly scouted by the -strikers generally. But in a few houses the situation was so terrible -that the men yielded. One of these was the empty and fireless home of -McNeil. The little Scotchman had had a bitter experience and had come -through it victorious; but just as he was getting his head above water, -the new strike had come--against his wishes and his vote. He had held on -as long as he could--had held on till every article had gone--till his -wife's poor under raiment and his children's clothes had gone for the -few dollars they brought, and now he was face to face with starvation. -He walked the streets day after day in company with a sad procession of -haggard men hunting for work, but they might as well have hunted on the -arctic floes or in the vacant desert. For every stroke of work there -were a hundred men. The answer was everywhere the same: "We are laying -men off; we are shutting down." - -He returned home one night hungry and dejected to find his wife fainting -with hunger and his children famished. "I will get you bread," he said -to the children, and he turned and went out. I always was glad that he -came to me that night, though I did not know till afterward what a -strait he was in. I did not have much to lend him, but I lent him some. -His face was haggard with want; but it had a resolution in it that -impressed me. - -"I will pay it back, sir, out of my first wages. I am going to work -to-morrow." - -"I am glad of that," I said, for I thought he had gotten a place. - -The next morning at light McNeil walked through the pickets who shivered -outside the car-barn, and entered the sheds just as their shouts of -derision and anger reached him. "I have come to work," he said simply. -"My children are hungry." - -The first car came out that morning, and on the platform stood McNeil, -glum and white and grim, with a stout officer behind him. It ran down by -the pickets, meeting with jeers and cries of "Scab! scab!" and a -fusillade of stones; but as the hour was early the crowd was a small -one, and the car escaped. It was some two hours later when the car -reappeared on its return. The news that a scab was running the car had -spread rapidly, and the street near the terminus had filled with a crowd -wild with rage and furiously bent on mischief. As the car turned into a -street it ran into a throng that had been increasing for an hour and now -blocked the way. An obstruction placed on the track brought the car to a -stop as a roar burst from the crowd and a rush was made for the scab. -The officer on the car used his stick with vigor enough, but the time -had passed when one officer with only a club could hold back a mob. He -was jerked off the platform, thrown down, and trampled underfoot. The -car was boarded, and McNeil, fighting like a fury, was dragged out and -mauled to death before any other officers arrived. When the police, in -force, in answer to a riot-call, reached the spot a quarter of an hour -later and dispersed the mob, it looked as if the sea had swept over the -scene. The car was overturned and stripped to a mere broken shell; and -on the ground a hundred paces away, with only a shred of bloody clothing -still about it, lay the battered and mutilated trunk of what had been a -man trying to make bread for his children, while a wild cry of hate and -joy at the deed raged about the street. - -The men who were arrested easily proved that they were simply onlookers -and had never been within fifty feet of the car. - -The riot made a fine story for the newspapers, and the headlines were -glaring. The victim's name was spelled according to the fancy of the -reporter for each paper, and was correctly published only two days -later. - -The press, except the _Trumpet_, while divided in its opinion on many -points, combined in its denouncement of the murder of the driver, and -called on the city authorities to awake to the gravity of the situation -and put down violence. It was indeed high time. - -Moved by the similarity of the name to my friend McNeil, I walked over -that afternoon to that part of the city where he had lived. It was one -of the poorest streets of the poor section. The street on which I had -lived at the old Drummer's, with its little hearth-rug yards, was as -much better than it as the most fashionable avenue was better than that. -The morass, like a moving bog, had spread over it and was rapidly -engulfing it. - -The sidewalks were filled with loafers, men and women who wore the -gloomiest or surliest looks. As I passed slowly along, trying to read -the almost obliterated numbers, I caught fragments of their -conversation. A group of them, men and women, were talking about the man -who had been killed and his family. The universal assertion was that it -served him right, and his family, too. I gleaned from their talk that -the family had been boycotted even after he was dead, and that he had -had to be buried by the city, and, what was more, that the cruel -ostracism still went on against his family. - -"Ay-aye, let 'em starve, we'll teach 'em to take the bread out of our -mouths," said one woman, while another told gleefully of her little boy -throwing stones at the girl as she came home from outside somewhere. She -had given him a cake for doing it. The others applauded both of these. -The milk of human kindness appeared to be frozen in their breasts. - -"Much good it will do you! Do you get any more money for doing it?" said -an old man with round shoulders and a thin face; but even he did not -seem to protest on account of the cruelty. It was rather a snarl. Two or -three young men growled at him; but he did not appear afraid of them; he -only snarled back. - -I asked one of the men which house was the one I was seeking. He told -me, while half a dozen hooted something about the "scab." - -When I came to the door pointed out I had no difficulty in recognizing -it. The panels and sides were "daubed" up with mud, which still stuck in -many places, showing the persecution which had been carried on. Inside, -I never saw a more deplorable sight. The poor woman who came to the -door, her face drawn with pain and white with terror, and her eyes red -with weeping, would not apparently have been more astonished to have -found a ghost on the steps. She gave a hasty, frightened glance up the -street in both directions, and moaned her distress. - -"Won't you step inside?" she asked, more to get the door closed between -her and the terror of the street than out of any other feeling; and when -I was inside, she asked me over again what I wanted. She could not take -in that I had called out of charity; she appeared to think that it was -some sort of official visit. When she found out, however, that such was -my object, the effect was instantaneous. At first she could not speak at -all; but after a little she was calm enough and poured out all her woes. -She went over anew how her husband had come over from Scotland several -years before and they had been quite comfortably fixed. How he had -gotten work, and had belonged to the union, and they had done well. He -had, however, been obliged by the union to strike, and they had spent -all the money they had, and in addition to that had gotten into debt. -So, when the strike was over, although he obtained work again, he was in -debt, and the harassment of it made him ill. Then how he had come North -to find work, and had had a similar experience. All this I knew. It was -just then that her last baby was born and that her little child died, -and the daughter of the employer of her husband was so kind to her, that -when her husband got well again, there was talk of a strike to help -others who were out, and she made him resign from the union. Here she -broke down. Presently, however, she recovered her composure. They had -come to her then, she said, and told her they would ruin him. - -"But I did not think they would kill him, sir," she sobbed. "He tried to -get back, but Wringman kept him out. That man murdered him, sir." - -There was not a lump of coal in the house; but her little girl had gone -for some cinders, while she minded the baby. She had to go where she was -not known--a long way, she said--as the children would not let her pick -any where she used to get them. - -When I came out I found that it had turned many degrees colder during -the short time I was in the house, and the blast cut like a knife. The -loafers on the street had thinned out under the piercing wind; but those -who yet remained jeered as I passed on. I had not gotten very far when I -came on a child, a little girl, creeping along. She was bending almost -double under the weight of a bag of cinders, and before I reached her my -sympathy was excited by the sight of her poor little bare hands and -wrists, which were almost blue with cold. Her head, gray with the sifted -ashes, was tucked down to keep her face from the cutting wind, and when -I came nearer I heard her crying--not loud; but rather wailing to -herself. - -"What is the matter, little girl?" I asked. - -"My hands are so cold--Oh! Oh! Oh!" she sobbed. - -"Here, let me warm them." I took the bag and set it down, and took her -little ashy hands in mine to try and warm them, and then for the first -time I discovered that it was my little girl, Janet. She was so changed -that I scarcely knew her. Her little pinched face, like her hair, was -covered with ashes. Her hands were ice. When I had gotten some warmth -into them I took off my gloves and put them on her, and I picked up her -bag and carried it back for her. My hands nearly froze, but somehow I -did not mind it. I had such a warm feeling about my heart. I wonder men -don't often take off their gloves for little poor children. - -I marched with her through the street near her house, expecting to be -hooted at, and I should not have minded it; for I was keyed up and could -have fought an army. But no one hooted. If they looked rather curiously -at me, they said nothing. - -As I opened the door to leave, on the steps stood my young lady. It is -not often that a man opens a door and finds an angel on the step -outside; but I did it that evening. I should not have been more -surprised if I had found a real one. But if one believes that angels -never visit men, these days, he should have seen Eleanor Leigh as she -stood there. She did not appear at all surprised. Her eyes looked right -into mine, and I took courage enough to look into hers for an instant. I -have never forgotten them. They were like deep pools, clear and -bottomless, filled with light. She did not look at all displeased and I -did not envy St. Martin. - -All she said was, "How do you do, Mr. Glave?" It was quite as if she -expected to find me there--and she had. She had seen me stop little -Janet and put the gloves on her. She was on her way to the house, and -she had stopped and waited, and then had followed us. I did not know -this until long afterward; but I asked her to let me wait and see her -home, and so I did. - -That walk was a memorable one to me. The period of explanations was -past. I dared harbor the hope that I was almost in sight of port. When I -put her on the car, she was so good as to say her father would be glad -to see me some time at their home, and I thought she spoke with just the -least little shyness, which made me hope that she herself would not be -sorry. - -When I left her, I went to see my old Drummer, and told him of the -outrages which had been perpetrated on the poor woman. It was worth -while seeing him. He was magnificent. As long as I was talking only of -the man, he was merely acquiescent, uttering his "Ya, Ya," -irresponsively over his beer; but when I told him of the woman and -children, he was on his feet in an instant--"Tamming te strikers and all -teir vorks." He seized his hat and big stick, and pouring out gutturals -so fast that I could not pretend to follow him, ordered me to show him -the place. As he strode through the streets, I could scarcely keep up -with him. His stick rang on the frozen pavement like a challenge to -battle. And when he reached the house he was immense. He was suddenly -transformed. No mother could have been tenderer, no father more -protecting. He gathered up the children in his great arms, and petted -and soothed them; his tone, a little while before so ferocious, now as -soft and gentle as the low velvet bass of his great drum. I always think -of the Good Shepherd now as something like him that evening; rugged as a -rock, gentle as a zephyr. He would have taken them all to his house and -have adopted them if the woman would have let him. His heart was bigger -than his house. He seemed to have filled all the place; to have made it -a fortress. - -The strike had cast its black cloud over all the section, and not all of -its victims were murdered by the mob. - -I fell in with the man who had spoken to me so cheerily one morning of -the sun's shining for him. He looked haggard and ill and despairing. He -was out of work and could find none. In our talk he did not justify the -strike; but he bowed to it with resignation as a stricken Orestes might -have bowed to the blows of Fate. His spirit was not then broken--it was -only embittered. His furniture which was so nearly paid for had gone to -the loan sharks; his house of which he boasted had reverted to the -Building Company. He looked fully twenty years older than when I had -seen him last. I offered him a small sum which he took gratefully. It -was the first money he had had in weeks, he said, and the stores had -stopped his credits. A few weeks later I saw him staggering along the -street, his heart-eating sorrow drowned for an hour in the only nepenthe -such poverty knows. - - - - -XXXVII - -WOLFFERT'S NEIGHBORS - - -I had not been to visit Wolffert and, indeed, had but a hazy idea of -where he lived, knowing only that he had a room in the house of some Jew -in the Jewish quarter. Hitherto our meetings had taken place either in -John Marvel's narrow little quarters or in mine at the old Drummer's. -But having learned from John that he was ill, I got the address from -him, and one afternoon went over to see him. I found the place in a -region more squalid than that in which John Marvel and I had our -habitation and as foreign as if it had been in Judea or in a Black Sea -province. In fact, it must have exhibited a mixture of both regions. The -shops were small and some of them gay, but the gayest was as mean as the -most sombre. The signs and notices were all in Yiddish or Russian, the -former predominating, and as I passed through the ill-paved, -ill-smelling, reeking streets I could scarcely retain my conviction that -I was still in an American city. It was about the hour that the -manufactories of clothing, etc., closed and the street through which I -walked was filled with a moving mass of dark humanity that rolled -through it like a dark and turgid flood. For blocks they filled the -sidewalk, moving slowly on, and as I mingled in the mass, and caught -low, guttural, unknown sounds, and not a word of English all the while, -I became suddenly aware of a strange alien feeling of uncertainty and -almost of oppression. Far as eye could see I could not descry one Saxon -countenance or even one Teuton. They were all dark, sallow, dingy, and -sombre. Now and then a woman's hat appeared in the level moving surge of -round black hats, giving the impression of a bubble floating on a deep, -slow current to melt into the flood. Could this, I reflected sombrely, -be the element we are importing? and what effect would the strange -confluence have on the current of our life in the future? No wonder we -were in the throes of a strike vast enough to cause anxiety! - -I was still under the dominion of this reflection when I reached the -street in which Wolffert had his home, and, after some difficulty, -discovered the house in which he had his abode. - -The street was filled with wretched little shops, some more wretched -than others, all stuck together in a curious jumble of tawdry finery and -rusty necessities. Among them were many shops where second-hand clothing -was exhibited, or, from appearances, clothing for which that term was a -flattering euphemism. I stopped at one where second-hand shoes were hung -out, and, opening the door to ask the way, faced a stout, shapeless -woman with a leathery skin and a hooked nose, above which a pair of -inquisitive black eyes rested on me, roving alternately from my feet to -my face, with an expression of mingled curiosity, alarm, and hostility. -I asked her if she could tell me where the number 1 wanted was, and as -my inquiry caused not the least change of expression, I took out my card -and wrote the number down. She gazed at it in puzzled silence, and then -with a little lighting of her dark face, muttered a few unintelligible -words and bustled back to where a curtain hung across the narrow shop, -and lifting one corner of it gave a call which I made out to be -something like "Jacob." The next moment a small, keen-looking boy made -his way from behind the curtain and gazed at me. A few words passed -between the two, in a tongue unknown to me, and then the boy, laying -down a book that he carried in his hand, came forward and asked me in -perfectly good English, "What is it you want?" - -"I want to know where number 5260-1/2 ---- Street is. I have that -address, but cannot find the number." - -"I'll show you." His eyes too were on my shoes. "The numbers of the -streets were all taken down last year, and have not been put back yet. -That is where Mr. Wolffert lives. Do you know him?" - -"Yes, I am going to see him." - -He turned and said something rapidly to his mother, in which the only -word I recognized was Wolffert's name. The effect was instantaneous. The -expression of vague anxiety died out of the woman's face and she came -forward jabbering some sort of jargon and showing a set of yellow, -scattering teeth. - -"I'll show you where he lives. You come with me," said Jacob. "She -thought you were an agent." He suddenly showed a much better set of -teeth than his mother could display--"She don't speak English, you see." -He had laid down his book on the counter and he now put on his cap. As -he passed out of the door he paused and fastened his eyes on my feet. -"You don't want a pair of shoes? We have all sorts--some as good as new. -You can't tell. Half the price, too." - -I declined the proffered bargain, and we walked up the street, Jacob -discoursing volubly of many things, to show his superior intelligence. - -"What was your book?" I inquired. - -"U. S. History. I'm in the sixth grade." - -"So? I should think you are rather small to be so high?" My ideas of -grades were rather hazy, having been derived from "Tom Brown at Rugby" -and such like encyclopædias. - -"Pah! I stand next to head," he cried contemptuously. - -"You do! Who stands head?" - -"Iky Walthiemer--he's fourteen and I ain't but twelve. Then there is a -fellow named Johnson--Jimmy Johnson. But he ain't nothin'!" - -"He isn't? What's the matter with him?" - -"He ain't got no eye on him--he don't never see nothin'." - -"You mean he's dull?" - -"Sure! Just mem'ry, that's all. He's dull. We beat 'em all." - -"Who are 'we'?" - -"We Jews." - -"So----" - -"Well, here we are. I'll run up and show you the door"--as we stopped at -a little butcher shop beside which was a door that evidently led up a -stair to the upper story. - -"All right. You know Mr. Wolffert?" - -"Sure! We all know him. He's a Jew, too." - -"Sure!" I tried to imitate his tone, for it was not an accent only. - -He ran up the stair and on up a second flight and back along a dark, -narrow little passage, where he tapped on a door, and, without waiting, -walked in. - -"Here's a man to see you." - -"A gentleman, you mean," I said dryly, and followed him, for I have a -particular aversion to being referred to to my face as a mere man. It is -not a question of natural history, but of manners. - -"Well, Jacob," said Wolffert when he had greeted me, "have you got to -the top yet?" - -"Will be next week," said Jacob confidently. - -I found Wolffert sitting up in a chair, but looking wretchedly ill. He, -however, declared himself much better. I learned afterward--though not -from him--that he had caught some disease while investigating some -wretched kennels known as "lodging houses," where colonies of Jews were -packed like herrings in a barrel; and for which a larger percentage on -the value was charged as rental than for the best dwellings in the city. -His own little room was small and mean enough, but it was comfortably -if plainly furnished, and there were books about, which always give a -homelike air, and on a little table a large bunch of violets which -instantly caught my eye. By some inexplicable sixth sense I divined that -they had come from Eleanor Leigh; but I tried to be decent enough not to -be jealous; and Wolffert's manifest pleasure at seeing me made me feel -humble. - -We had fallen to talking of his work when I said, "Wolffert, why do you -live in this horrible quarter? No wonder you get ill. Why don't you get -a room in a more decent part of the town--near where John Marvel lives, -for instance?" - -Wolffert smiled. - -"Why?--what is the matter with this?" - -"Oh! Why, it is dreadful. Why, it's the dirtiest, meanest, lowest -quarter of the city! I never saw such a place. It's full of stinking"--I -was going to say "Jews"; but reflected in time to substitute "holes." - -Wolffert, I saw, supplied the omitted objection. - -"Do you imagine I would live among the rich?" he demanded; "I thought -you knew me better. I don't want to be fattened in the dark like a -Strasbourg goose for my liver to make food acceptable to their jaded -appetites. Better be a pig at once." - -"No, but there are other places than this--and I should think your soul -would revolt at this--" I swung my arm in a half circle. - -"Are they not my brethren?" he said, half smiling. - -"Well, admit that they are--" (And I knew all along that this was the -reason.) "There are other grades--brethren of nearer degree." - -"None," he ejaculated. "'I dwell among my own people'--I must live among -them to understand them." - -"I should think them rather easy to understand." - -"I mean to be in sympathy with them," he said gently. "Besides, I am -trying to teach them two or three things." - -"What?" For I confess that my soul had revolted at his surroundings. -That surging, foreign-born, foreign-looking, foreign-spoken multitude -who had filled the street as I came along through the vile reek of -"Little Russia," as it was called, had smothered my charitable feelings. - -"Well, for one thing, to learn the use of freedom--for another, to learn -the proper method and function of organization." - -"They certainly appear to me to have the latter already--simply by being -what they are," I said lightly. - -"I mean of business organization," Wolffert explained. "I want to break -up the sweat shop and the sweat system. We are already making some -headway, and have thousands in various kinds of organized business which -are quite successful." - -"I should not think they would need your assistance--from what I saw. -They appear to me to have an instinct." - -"They have," said Wolffert, "but we are teaching them how to apply it. -The difficulty is their ignorance and prejudice. You think that they -hold you in some distrust and dislike, possibly?" As his tone implied a -question, I nodded. - -"Well, that is nothing to the way in which they regard me. You they -distrust as a gentile, but me they detest as a renegade." - -"Well, I must say that I think you deserve what you get for bringing in -such a mass of ignorance. Now, you are an American, and a patriotic one. -How do you reconcile it with your patriotism to introduce into the body -politic such an element of ignorance, superstition, and unrest?" - -"Why," said Wolffert, "you don't know our people. The Jew is often an -element of ignorance and superstition, though he is not alone in this, -but he is never an element of unrest--when he is justly treated," he -added after a pause. "But, whatever these people are in this generation, -the next generation--the children of this generation--will be useful -American citizens. All they require is a chance. Why, the children of -these Russian Jews, baited from their own country, are winning all the -prizes in the schools," he added, his pale face flushing faintly. "That -lad who showed you in is the son of parents who sell second-hand shoes -in the next street and cannot speak a word of English, and yet he stands -at the head of his class." - -"No, second!" I said. - -"How do you know?" - -"He told me." - -"The little rascal! See how proud he is of it," said Wolffert -triumphantly. - -"He tried to sell me a pair of shoes." - -Wolffert chuckled. "Did he?" Then he sobered, catching my thought. "That -is the most important thing for him at present, but wait. Let this -develop." He tapped his forehead. "He may give you laws equal to -Kepler's or a new philosophy like Bacon's. He may solve aerial -navigation--or revolutionize thought in any direction--who knows!" - -His face had lighted up as he proceeded, and he was leaning forward in -his chair, his eyes glowing. - -"I know," I said, teasingly. "He'll sell shoes--second-hand ones -polished up for new." - -I was laughing, but Wolffert did not appreciate my joke. He flushed -slightly. - -"That's your gentile ignorance, my friend. That's the reason your people -are so dense--they never learn--they keep repeating the same thing. No -wonder we discover new worlds for you to claim!" - -"What new worlds have you discovered?" - -"Well, first, Literature, next commerce. What is your oldest boasted -scripture?" - -"I thought you were talking of material worlds!" - -"We helped about that, too--did our full part. You think Queen Isabella -pawned her jewels to send Christobal Colon to discover America--don't -you?" - -I nodded. - -"Well, the man who put up the money for that little expedition was a -Jew--'Arcangel, the Treasurer.' You never heard of him!" - -"Never." - -"He did it all the same. If you would read something else beside your -narrow English writings, Glave, you would learn something of the true -history of civilization." Now and then Wolffert's arrogance, like -Antipater's, showed through the rents in his raiment. - -"What for instance? since you appear to know it all." - -"Well, almost any other history or philosophy. Read the work of the -thinkers old and new--and see how much deeper life is than the shallow -thing called by that divine name by the butterflies and insects and -reptiles who flaunt their gauzy vans in our faces or fasten their brazen -claws in our vitals. Meantime, you might read my book," he said with a -smile, "when it comes out." - -"Well, tell me about it meantime and save me the trouble. I sometimes -prefer my friends to their books." - -"You were always lazy," he said smiling. But he began to talk, laying -down his philosophy of life, which was simple enough, though I could not -follow him very far. I had been trained in too strict a school to accept -doctrines so radical. And but that I saw him and John Marvel and Eleanor -Leigh acting on them I should have esteemed them absolutely utopian. As -it was, I wondered how far Eleanor Leigh had inspired his book. - - - - -XXXVIII - -WOLFFERT'S PHILOSOPHY - -(WHICH MAY BE SKIPPED BY THE READER) - - -As Wolffert warmed up to his theme, his face brightened and his deep -eyes glowed. - -"The trouble with our people--our country--the world--is that our whole -system--social--commercial--political--every activity is based on greed, -mere, sheer greed. State and Church act on it--live by it. The success -of the Jew which has brought on him so much suffering through the ages -has revenged itself by stamping on your life the very evil with which -you charge him--love of money. What ideals have we? None but money. We -call it wealth. We have debased the name, and its debasement shows the -debasement of the race. Once it meant weal, now mere riches, though -employed basely, the very enemy and assassin of weal. The covetousness, -whose reprobation in the last of the commandments was intended as a -compendium to embrace the whole, has honeycombed our whole life, public -and private. The amassing of riches, not for use only, for -display--vulgar beyond belief--the squandering of riches, not for good, -but for evil, to gratify jaded appetites which never at their freshest -craved anything but evil or folly, marks the lowest level of the -shopkeeping intellect. The Argands and the Canters are the aristocrats -of the community, and the Capons are the fit priests for such people." - -He turned away in disgust--but I prodded him. - -"What is your remedy? You criticise fiercely! but give no light. You are -simply destructive." - -"The remedy is more difficult to give," he said gravely; "because the -evil has been going on so long that it has become deep-rooted. It has -sunk its roots into, not only the core of our life, but our character. -It will take long to eradicate it. But one economic evil might be, and -eventually must be changed, unless we wish to go down into the abyss of -universal corruption and destruction." - -"You mean----?" - -"Capitalism--the idea that because a man is accidentally able to acquire -through adventitious and often corrupt means vast riches which really -are not made by himself, but by means of others under conditions and -laws which he did not create, he may call them his own; use them in ways -manifestly detrimental to the public good and, indeed, often in -notorious destructiveness of it, and be protected in doing so by those -laws." - -"'Accidentally'--and 'adventitious means'! That does not happen so -often. It may happen by finding a gold mine--once in ten thousand -times--or by cornering some commodity on the stock or Produce Exchange -once in one hundred thousand times, but even then a man must have -intellect--force--courage--resourcefulness--wonderful powers of -organization." - -"So has the burglar and highwayman," he interrupted. - -"But they are criminals--they break the law." - -"What law? Why law more than these others? Is not the fundamental law, -not to do evil to others?" - -"The law established by society for its protection." - -"Who made those laws?" - -"The people--through their representatives," I added hastily, as I saw -him preparing to combat it. - -"The people, indeed! precious little part they have had in the making of -the laws. Those laws were made, not by the people--who had no voice in -their making, but by a small class--originally the Chief--the -Emperor--the King--the Barons--the rich Burghers--the people had no part -nor voice." - -"They received the benefit of them." - -"Only the crumbs which fell from their masters' tables. They got the -gibbet, the dungeon, the rack, and the stick." - -"Wolffert, you would destroy all property rights." - -"My dear fellow, what nonsense you talk. I am only for changing the law -to secure property rights for all, instead of for a class, the necessity -for which no longer exists, if it ever did exist." - -"Your own law-giver recognized it and inculcated it." I thought this a -good thrust. He waved it aside. - -"That was for a primitive people in a primitive age, as your laws were -for your people in their primitive age. But do you suppose that Moses -would make no modification now?" - -"I have no idea that he would. For I believe they were divine." - -"Surely--Moses acted under the guidance of the great Jehovah, whose law -is justice and equity and righteousness. The laws he gave were to -inculcate this, and they served their purpose when Israel served God. -But now when He is mocked, the letter of the law is made an excuse and -is given as the command to work injustice and inequity and -unrighteousness. Surely they should be, at least, interpreted in the -spirit in which they were given. You claim to be a Christian?" - -"A very poor one." - -"In name, at least, you claim that there has been a new dispensation?" - -"Yes--an amplification--a development and evolution." - -"Precisely. In place of an 'eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth--the -other cheek turned--to do to others as you would have them do to you!'" - -"That is the ideal. I have not yet reached that degree of----" I paused -for the word. - -"I, too, acknowledge that evolution, that ideal. Why should we not act -on it?" - -"Because of human nature. We have not yet reached the stage when it can -be practically applied." - -"But human nature while it does not change basically may be regulated, -developed, uplifted, and this teaching is based on this principle. It -has not yet borne much apparent fruit, it is true; but it is sound, -nevertheless. We both in our better moments, at least, feel it to be -sound, and there has been a little, however little uplift, and however -hard to maintain. - -"You believe in the development of man; but you look only to his -material development. I look for his complete development, material and -spiritual. As he has advanced through the countless ages since God -breathed into him the breath of Life, and by leading him along the lines -of physical development to a station in creation where the physical -evolution gave place to the ever-growing psychical development; so I -believe he is destined to continue this psychical or spiritual growth, -increasing its power as the ages pass and mounting higher and higher in -spiritual knowledge, until he shall attain a degree of perfection that -we only think of now as a part of the divine. We see the poet and the -saint living to-day in an atmosphere wholly distinct from the gross -materialism of common humanity. We see laws being enacted and principles -evolved which make for the improvement of the human race. We see the -gradual uplifting and improvement of the race. War is being -diminished; its horrors lessened; food is becoming more diffused; -civilization--material civilization--is being extended; and the -universal, fundamental rights are being a little more recognized, -however dimly. This means growth--the gradual uplifting of mankind, the -diffusion of knowledge, as well as of food--the growth of -intellectuality. And as this comes, think you that man will not rise -higher? A great reservoir is being tapped and from it will flow, in the -future, rich streams to fertilize the whole world of humanity. -Aspirations will leap higher and higher, and the whole race in time will -receive new light, new power, new environments, with an ever-widening -horizon, and a vast infinitude of spiritual truth as the field for the -soul's exercise." - -"It is a dream," I said, impressed by his burning eyes, his glowing -face, as he drifted on almost in a rhapsody. - -"Yes--a dream; but it might come true if all--if you and all like you--I -mean all educated and trained people, would unite to bring it about. -Your leader preached it, you profess the principles now, but do not -practise them. The State has been against it--the Church equally. It is -full of sham." - -"It was Jerusalem that stoned the prophets," I interrupted. He swept on -with a gesture. - -"Yes, yes--I know--I am not speaking now as a sectarian." - -"But, at least, as a Jew," I said, laughing. - -"Yes, perhaps. I hardly know. I know about Hannan the High Priest. He -tried to stand in with Pilate. He thought he was doing his duty when he -was only fighting for his caste. But what an Iliad of woes he brought on -his people--through the ages. But now they know, they profess, and yet -stone the prophets. Your church, founded to fight riches and selfishness -and formalism, is the greatest exploiter of all that the world knows. -Two generations sanctify the wealth gotten by the foulest means. The -robber, the murderer, the destroyer of homes are all accepted, and if -one protests he is stoned to-day as if he were a blasphemer of the law. -If the Master to whom your churches are erected should come to-day and -preach the doctrines he preached in Judea nineteen hundred years ago, he -would be cast out here precisely as he was cast out there." He spoke -almost fiercely. - -"Yet his teachings," he added, "are nearer those of the people I -represent than of those who assail them. Why should we not act on it? -Possibly, some others might see our good works, and in any event we -shall have done our part. John Marvel does." - -"I know he does, but he is a better Christian than I am, and so are -you." - -"I am not a Christian at all. I am only a Jew." - -"Will you say that His teachings have had no part in forming your -character and life?" - -"Not my character. My father taught me before I was able to read. -Possibly I have extended his teachings!" - -"Have His teachings had no part in deciding you as to your work?" - -"His teachings? John Marvel's exposition of them in his life bore a part -and, thus, perhaps----" - -"That is it." - -"Why should I not participate in the benefit of the wisdom of a Jewish -rabbi?" said Wolffert, scornfully. "Did Jesus utter his divine -philosophy only for you who were then savages in Northern Europe or -half-civilized people in Greece, Italy, and Spain? Your claim that he -did so simply evinces the incurable insularity of your people." - -"What is your remedy? Socialism?" - -"Call it what you will. That is a name which some prefer and some -detest. The fact is, that the profit system on which all Modern -Capitalism rests is radically and fundamentally vicious and wrong. Men -work and strive, not to produce for use, for service, but for profit. -Profit becomes the aim of human endeavor--nothing higher or -better--Competition." - -"'Competition,'" I quoted, "'is the soul of trade.'" - -"Competition," he said, "may be the soul of trade, but that trade is the -trade in men's souls, as well as bodies--in the universal soul of the -people. It sets man against man, and brother against brother--Cain -against Abel--and is branded with the curse of Cain." - -"What would you substitute for it?" I demanded. - -"The remedy is always a problem. I should try co-operation--in this -age." - -"Co-operation! It has been proved an absolute failure. It makes the -industrious and the thrifty the slave of the idle and spendthrift. Men -would not work." - -"An idle and time-worn fallacy. The ambitious do not work for gold, the -high-minded do not--John Marvel does not--Miss Leigh does not. The poor -do not work for wealth, only for bread, for a crust, with starvation -ever grinning at them beside their door which cannot shut out its grisly -face. Look at your poor client McNeil. Did he work to accumulate gold? -He worked to feed his starving children." - -"But, would they work--this great class?" - -"Yes, they would have to work, all who are capable of it, but for higher -rewards. We would make all who are capable, work. We would give the -rewards to those who produce, to all who produce by intellect or labor. -We would do away with those who live on the producers--the leeches who -suck the life-blood. Work, intellectual or physical, should be the law -of society." - -"They would not work," I insisted. - -"Why do you go on drivelling that like a morning paper. Why would they -not work! Man is the most industrious animal on earth. Look at these -vast piles of useless buildings, look at the great edifices and works of -antiquity. Work is the law of his awakened intellect. There would still -be ambition, emulation, a higher and nobler ambition for something -better than the base reward they strive and rob and trample each other -in the mire for now. Men would then work for art, the old mechanic-arts -would revive in greater beauty and perfection than ever before. New and -loftier ideals would be set up. There would be more, vastly more men who -would have those ideals. What does the worker now know of ideals? He is -reduced to a machine, and a very poor machine at that. He does not know -where his work goes, or have an interest in it. Give him that. Give his -fellows that. It will uplift him, uplift his class, create a great -reservoir from which to draw a better class. The trouble with you, my -dear friend," said Wolffert, "is that you are assuming all the time that -your law is a fixed law, your condition of society a fixed condition. -They are not: There are few things fixed in the world. The universal -law is change--growth or decay. Of all the constellations and stars, the -Pole star alone is fixed, and that simply appears so. It really moves -like the rest, only in a vaster orbit with other stars moving about it." - -I smiled, partly at his grandiose imagery and partly at his earnestness. - -"You smile, but it is true. There are few fundamental laws. The survival -of the fittest is one of them in its larger sense. It is that under -which my people have survived." - -"And that all men are by nature entitled to life, liberty and the -pursuit of happiness." - -"Not at all, or, at least, only in the larger sense. If they were -entitled to life, neither nature nor the law would deprive them of -it--if to liberty, neither could interfere with it--if to the pursuit of -happiness, we should have to reconstruct their minds." - -"Then, in Heaven's name, what are they entitled to?" I exclaimed. - -"First, under certain conditions, to the best fruits of properly -organized society; to light--enlightenment--then to opportunity to have -an equal chance for what they are willing to work for." - -"Among other things, to work?" I hazarded, feeling that he had delivered -himself into my hands. "Every man has a right to labor at whatever work -and for whatever prices he pleases," I said; "that you will admit is -fundamental?" - -"Provided you allow me to define what you mean--provided it does not -injure his neighbor. You, as a lawyer, quote your _Sic utere tuo ut -non_." - -"If the laborer and his employer contract, no one else has a right to -interfere." - -"Not the public--if they are injured by it?" - -"Except by law." - -"Who make the laws? The people in theory now, and some day they will do -it in fact. As the spirit of the time changes, the interpretation of the -law will change, and the spirit is changing all the time." - -"Not in this particular." - -"Yes, in all respects. Men are becoming more enlightened. The veil has -been torn away and the light has been let in. As soon as education came -the step was taken. We are in a new era already, and the truth is, you -and your like do not see it." - -"What sort of era? How is it new?" - -"An era of enlightenment. Men have been informed; they know their power; -'the tree of knowledge has been plucked.'" - -"They don't appear to do much with the knowledge." - -"You think not? It is true that they have not yet learned to apply the -knowledge fully, but they are learning. See how Democracy has ripened -over the earth, overthrowing tyranny and opening the door of opportunity -for all mankind--how the principles of Socialism have spread within the -last generation, in Germany, in England, now in America and Russia. Why, -it is now an active, practical force." - -"Oh! not much," I insisted. - -"A great deal, taking into account the opposition to it. It is contrary, -remember, to the established usage and belief of thousands of years. It -proposes to supplant what you have been trained to consider the -foundation of your life, of society, of order, and you have been trained -to believe that your most precious rights are bound up with that system. -Every force of modern life is arrayed against it, yet it advances -steadily; because, under your system, lies the fundamental error and sin -which enables one man to hold another down and live off of him. You do -not see that a new era is dawning, that man is developing, society -passing into a new phase. Democracy has come to stay; because it is -informed. More and more men are thinking, more and more men are learning -to think." - -"But they will not be able to upset the established order." - -"There is no established order. It is always upset in time, either for -good or ill. It never abides, for change is the law." - -"Generally for ill. Content is lost." - -"Generally for good," flashed Wolffert. "The content you speak of is -slavery--stagnation and death. When a man ceases to move, to change -consciously, he changes most, he dies. That is the law that for the -universal good underlies all growth. You cannot alter it." - -He ceased speaking and I took my leave, feeling that somehow he had -grown away from me. - - - - -XXXIX - -THE CONFLICT - - -Wolffert's book was never finished. When he got well, it was laid aside -for more imperative work. The misery in the city had increased till it -threatened the overthrow of everything. It was necessary to do his part -to ameliorate the wretchedness; for his word was a charm in the foreign -district where disturbance was most to be feared. He was the most talked -of man in the city. He worked night and day. - -For a little time it looked as though the efforts of the peace-makers, -among whom were conspicuous in the poor section of the town John Marvel -and Wolffert, to bring about a better feeling and condition were going -to be successful. The men began to return to work. The cars were once -more being operated, though under heavy police protection, Collis -McSheen having had it made clear to him by his former friends like -Canter and others that he must act or take the consequences. - -One evening not long afterward, under prompting of an impulse to go and -see how my poor woman and little Janet were coming on, and possibly not -without some thought of Eleanor Leigh, who had hallowed her doorstep the -last time I was there, I walked over to that part of the town. I took -Dix along, or he took himself, for he was my inseparable companion -these days. Eleanor Leigh had been there, but she had gone to the old -Drummer's to see Elsa, who was ill, and had taken Janet with her. The -mother said the child was afraid to go out on the street now, and Miss -Eleanor thought it would do her good. The poor woman's pitiful face -haunted me as I turned down the street. Though the men were returning to -work, the effect of the strike was still apparent all through this -section of the town. The streets were full of idlers, especially about -the bar-rooms; and their surly looks and glum air testified to the -general feeling. - -Of all the gatherings of men that I have ever seen the most painful is -that of men on a strike. They are a forlorn hope. In most assemblies -there is enthusiasm, spirit, resolve: something that beams forth with -hope and sustains. Most of these exist in striking men; yet Hope is -absent. In other assemblages her radiant wings light up their faces; in -strikes, it seems to me that the sombre shadow of care is always -present. In this strike Wolffert had been one of the most interested -observers. While he thought it unwise to strike, he advocated the men's -right to strike and to picket, but not to employ violence. It was -passive resistance that he preached, and he deplored the death of McNeil -as much as I did, or John Marvel. Only he charged it to McSheen and -Wringman and even more to the hypocrisy of a society which tolerated -their operations. - -This strike had succeeded to the extent of causing great loss to and, -rumor said, of financially embarrassing Mr. Leigh; but had failed so -far as the men were concerned, and it was known that it had failed. Its -only fruit for the working people was misery. The only persons who had -profited by it were men like McSheen and Wringman. - -I held strong opinions about the rights of men in the abstract; under -the influence of John Marvel's and Wolffert's unselfish lives, and the -yet more potent influence of Eleanor Leigh, I had come to realize the -beauty of self-sacrifice, even if I had not yet risen to the loftiness -of its practice; but the difficulties which I saw in the application of -our theories and my experience that night at the meeting, followed by -the death of McNeil, had divided me from my old associates like -Wolffert. I could not but see that out of the movements instituted, as -Wolffert believed, for the general good of the working classes, the real -workingmen were become mere tools, and those who were glib of tongue, -forward in speech, and selfish and shrewd in method, like McSheen and -Wringman, used them and profited by them remorselessly, while the rest -of the community were ground between the upper and the nether -millstones. Even Wolffert, with his pure motives, had proved but an -instrument in their hands to further their designs. Their influence was -still at work, and under orders from these battening politicians many -poor men with families still stood idle, with aims often as unselfish -and as lofty as ever actuated patriots or martyrs, enduring hardship and -privation with the truest and most heroic courage; whilst their leaders, -like Wringman, who had been idle agitators during the time of -prosperity, now rose on the crest of the commotion they had created, and -blossomed into importance. The Nile courses through upper Egypt bearing -its flood to enrich the lower lands; but the desert creeps and hangs its -parched lips over the very brink. - -I determined to go and inquire after Elsa myself. So, with Dix at my -heel, I passed through the foreign streets, crowded with the same -dark-hued elements I had observed before, only now lowering and -threatening as a cloud about to break, and walked over toward the little -street in which the Loewens lived, and presently I fell in with -Wolffert, who, like myself, appeared to have business in that direction. -Under the circumstances, I should have been glad to escape from him; but -as he joined me I could not well do so, and we walked along together. He -looked worn and appeared to be rather gloomy, which I set down to his -disappointment at the turn affairs connected with the strike had taken, -for I learned from him that, under the influence of Wringman, there was -danger of a renewal of hostilities; that his efforts at mediation had -failed, and he had at a meeting which he had attended, where he had -advocated conciliatory measures, been hooted down. There was danger, he -said, of the whole trouble breaking out again, and if so, the sympathy -of the public would now be on the other side. Thinking more of the girl -I was in pursuit of than of anything else, and having in mind the -announcement of Mr. Leigh's losses and reported embarrassment, I -expressed myself hotly. If they struck again they deserved all they -got--they deserved to fail for following such leaders as Wringman and -refusing to listen to their friends. - -"Oh, no, they are just ignorant, that is all--they don't know. Give them -time--give them time." - -"Well, I am tired of it all." - -"Tired! Oh! don't get tired. That's not the way to work. Stand fast. Go -and see John Marvel and get new inspiration from him. See how he works." - -"Wolffert, I am in love," I said, suddenly. He smiled--as I remembered -afterward, sadly. - -"Yes, you are." There was that in his tone which rather miffed me. I -thought he was in love, too; but not, like myself, desperately. - -"You are not--and you don't know what it is. So, it is easy for you." - -He turned on me almost savagely, with a flame in his eyes. - -"Not--! I not! You don't dream what it is to be in love. You cannot. You -are incapable--incapable!" He clutched at his heart. The whole truth -swept over me like a flood. - -"Wolffert! Why--? Why have you never--?" I could not go on. But he -understood me. - -"Because I am a Jew!" His eyes burned with deep fires. - -"A Jew! Well, suppose you are. She is not one to allow that----" - -He wheeled on me. - -"Do you think--? Do you imagine I mean--? I would not allow myself--I -could never--never allow myself--It is impossible--for me." - -I gazed on him with amazement. He was transformed. The pride of race, -the agony and subdued fury of centuries, flamed in him. I saw for the -first time the spirit of the chosen people: Israel in bondage, yet -arisen, with power to call down thunders from Heaven. I stood -abashed--abashed at my selfish blindness through all my association with -him. How often I had heedlessly driven the iron into his soul. With my -arm over his shoulder I stammered something of my remorse, and he -suddenly seized my hand and wrung it in speechless friendship. - -As we turned into a street not far from the Loewens', we found ahead of -us quite a gathering, and it was increasing momentarily. Blue-coated -police, grim-looking or anxious, were standing about in squads, and -surlier-looking men were assembling at the corners. It was a strike. I -was surprised. I even doubted if it could be that. But my doubt was soon -dispelled. At that moment a car came around a corner a few blocks away -and turned into the street toward us. There was a movement in a group -near me; a shout went up from one of them and in a second the street was -pandemonium. That dark throng through which we had passed poured in like -a torrent. A bomb exploded a half block away, throwing up dirt and -stones. - -With a cry, "God of Israel!" Wolffert sprang forward; but I lost him in -the throng. I found myself borne toward the car like a chip on a fierce -flood. The next instant I was a part of the current, and was struggling -like a demon. On the platform were a brawny driver and two policemen. -The motorman I recognized as Otto. As I was borne near the car, I saw -that in it, among others, were an old man, a woman, and a child, and as -I reached the car I recognized--I know not how--all three. They were the -old Drummer, Eleanor Leigh, and the little girl, Janet McNeil. I thought -I caught the eye of the young lady, but it may have been fancy; for the -air was full of missiles, the glass was crashing and tingling; the sound -of the mob was deafening. At any rate I saw her plainly. She had -gathered up the scared child in her arms, and with white face, but -blazing eyes, was shielding her from the flying stones and glass. - -I was one of the first men on the car, and made my way into it, throwing -men right and left as I entered it. I shall never forget the look that -came into her eyes as she saw me. She rose with a cry and, stretching -out her hands, pushed the child into my arms with a single word: "Save -her." It was like an elixir; it gave me ten times the strength I had -before. The car was blocked, and we descended from it--I in front -protecting her--and fought our way through the mob to the outskirts, the -old Drummer, a squad of policemen, and myself; I with the child by the -hand to keep her near the ground and less exposed, and the old Drummer -shielding us both and roaring like a lion. It was a warm ten minutes; -the air was black with stones and missiles. The crowd seemed to have -gone mad and were like ravening wolves. The presence of a woman and -child had no effect on them but to increase their fury. They were mad -with the insanity of mobbism. But at last we got through, though I was -torn and bleeding. They were after the motorman and conductor. The -latter had escaped into a shop and the door was shut; but the mob was -not to be balked. Doors and windows were smashed in like paper. The mob -poured in and rummaged everywhere for its victim, up-stairs and down, -like terriers in a cellar after a rat. Fortunately for him, he had -escaped out the back way. They looted the shop and then turned back to -search for another victim. As we were near old Loewen's house we took -the refugees there, and when they were in that place of safety, I -returned to the scene of conflict. I had caught sight of several faces -in the crowd that roused me beyond measure, and I went back to fight. If -I had had a pistol that day, I should certainly have committed murder. I -had seen Wringman covertly urging the mob on and Pushkin enjoying it. -Just as I stepped from the car with the child, trying to shield her and -Eleanor Leigh, and with the old Drummer bulky and raging at my side, -trying to shield us all and sputtering oaths in two languages, my eye -reached across the mob and I had caught sight of McSheen's and Pushkin's -heads above the crowd on the far edge of the mob where it was safe. -McSheen wore his impervious mask; the other's face was wicked with -satisfaction, and he was laughing. A sudden desire to kill sprang into -my heart. If I had not had my charges to guard, I should have made my -way to him then. I came back for him now. - -When I arrived, the fight had somewhat changed. Shops were being looted, -wagons, trucks, and every sort of vehicle were being turned into the -street by drivers who sympathized with the strike, to impede the -restoration of order. The police, aroused at last and in deadly earnest, -had formed in order and, under their hammering, the mob was giving way. -Only at one point they were making a stand. It was the corner where -Pushkin had stood, and I made toward it. As I did so the crowd opened, -and a group stamped itself indelibly in my mind. In the front line of -the mob, Wolffert, tall and flaming, hatless, and with flying hair, -swinging arms, and wide-open mouth, by turns trying to pacify the wild -mob, by turns cursing and fighting a group of policemen--who, with -flying clubs and drawn pistols, were hammering them and driving them -slowly--was trying to make himself heard. Beyond these, away at the far -edge of the mob the face of Pushkin, his silk hat pulled over his eyes. -As I gazed at him, he became deadly pale, and then turned as if to get -away; but the crowd held him fast. I was making toward him, when a -figure taller than his shoved in between us, pushing his way toward him. -He was fighting for his life. His head was bare and his face was -bleeding. His back was to me; but I recognized the head and broad -shoulders of Otto. It was this sight that drove the blood from Pushkin's -face, and well it might; for the throng was being parted by the young -Swede as water is parted by a strong swimmer. There was a pistol shot, -then I saw the Swede's arm lifted with the lever in his hand, and the -next second Pushkin's head went down. The cry that went up and the -surging of the crowd told me what had happened, but I had no time to -act; for at this moment I saw a half-dozen men in the mob fall upon -Wolffert, who with bleeding face was still trying to hold them back, and -he disappeared in the rush. I shouted to some officers by me, "They are -killing a man there," and together we made our way through the crowd -toward the spot. It was as I supposed--the adventurer was down. The -young Swede had settled his account with him. He was unconscious, but he -was still breathing. Wolffert, too, was stretched on the ground, -battered almost beyond recognition. John Marvel, his own face bruised -and bleeding, was on his knees beside him, supporting his head, and the -police were beating the crowd back. As I drew near, Wolffert half rose. -"Don't beat them; they don't know." He sank back. The brawny young -Swede, with a pistol bullet through his clothes, was already on the -other side of the street, making his way out through the crowd. -Pushkin's and Wolffert's fall and the tremendous rush made by the police -caused the mob to give way finally, and they were driven from the spot, -leaving a half-dozen hatless and drunken leaders in the hands of the -police. - -Pushkin was taken up and was carried to a hospital, and John Marvel -lifted Wolffert in his arms. Just as he was lifted, a stone struck me -on the head, and I went down and knew no more. - -When I came to, I was in a hospital. John Marvel was sitting beside me, -his placid eyes looking down into mine with that mingled serenity and -kindness which gave such strength to others. I think they helped me to -live as they had helped so many other poor sufferers to die. I was -conscious only for a moment, and then went off into an illness which -lasted a long time, before I really knew anything. But I took him with -me into that misty border-land where I wandered so many weeks, before -returning to life, and when I emerged from it again, there he sat as -before, serene, confident, and inspiring. He wore a mourning band on his -sleeve. - -"Where is Dix?" was the first thing I asked. - -"He is all right--in good hands." - -It was a long time before I could be talked to much; but when I was -strong enough, he told me many things that had taken place. The strike -was broken up. Its end was sad enough, as the end of all strikes is. -Wolffert was dead--killed in the final rush of the riot in which I was -hurt. And so perished all his high aims and inefficient, unselfish -methods. His father had come on and taken his body home: "A remarkable -old man," said John. "He was proud of Leo, but could not get over the -loss of the great merchant he would have been." Pushkin had recovered, -and had been discharged from the hospital, and had just married Collis -McSheen's daughter. "She would have him," said John. Wringman had -disappeared. On the collapse of the strike, it had been found that he -had sold out to Coll McSheen and the Argand companies, and furnished -them information. He had now gone away, Marvel did not know where. -Langton, when I saw him later, thought he had been afraid to stay longer -where so many men were who had lost their places through him. - -"It is always the way--the innocent suffer, and the guilty escape," I -murmured. - -I felt Marvel's hand gently placed over my lips. - -"Inscrutable; but it must be right," he said: - - "'God moves in a mysterious way, - His wonders to perform.'" - -"I don't believe God had anything to do with it." I was bitter; for I -was still thinking of Wolffert and Pushkin and McSheen. - -"The doctors tell me that a hundredth part of an inch more, and a friend -of mine would never have known anything again," said Marvel, gravely, -looking down at me with sorrowful, kind eyes. - -Under this argument _ad hominem_ I was silent, if not convinced. We are -always ready to think Providence interferes in our especial behalf. - -I started to ask after another who had been in the riot, but I could not -frame the question. I saw that Marvel knew what I wished. I learned -afterward that I had talked of her constantly during my delirium. She -was well, he told me. She had not been hurt, nor had the child or old -Loewen. She had left the city. Her father was involved now in a great -lawsuit, the object of which Marvel did not know, and she had gone -away. - -"Where has she gone?" - -He did not answer, and I took it for granted that he did not know. - -"If I had been you, I would have found out where she went to," I said -peevishly. - -He took no notice of this. He only smiled. He did not say so; but I -thought from his manner that she had gone abroad. He had had a note from -her saying that she would be away a long time, and inclosing him a -generous contribution for his poor. - -"She is an angel," he said. - -"Of course she is." - -Though he spoke reverently, I was almost angry with him for thinking it -necessary to say it at all. - -"Yes; but you do not know how good she is. None but God knows how good -some women are." - -One or two other pieces of news he told me. The old Drummer and his wife -had gone off, too; but only on a visit to Elsa. Elsa and Otto had been -married, and were living in another State. I saw that he still had -something else to tell, and finally it came out. As soon as I was able, -I must go away for a while. I needed change and rest, and he knew the -very place for me, away off in the country. - -"You appear to be anxious to depopulate the city," I said. He only -smiled contentedly. - -"I am going to send you to the country," he said with calm decision. - -"I have to work----" - -"When you come back. I have made all the arrangements." - -"I am going to find Eleanor Leigh. I will find her if the world holds -her." - -"Yes, to be sure," he smiled indulgently. He was so strong that I -yielded. - -I learned that a good offer was waiting for me to go into the law office -of one of the large firms when I should be well enough to work, in a -capacity which Jeams would have termed that of a "minor connectee"; but -it was coupled with the condition that I should get well first. My -speech at the meeting when I denounced Wringman, and my part in the -riots, had become known, and friends had interested themselves in my -behalf. So John Marvel reported; and as he appeared to be managing -things, I assumed that he had done this, too. - -I never fully knew until after his death how truly Wolffert was one of -the Prophets. I often think of him with his high aim to better the whole -human race, inspired by a passion for his own people to extend his -ministration to all mankind, cast out by those he labored for; denying -that he was a Christian, and yet dying a Christian death in the act of -supplicating for those who slew him. I owe him a great debt for teaching -me many things, but chiefly for the knowledge that the future of the -race rests on the whole people and its process depends on each one, -however he may love his own, working to the death for all. He opened my -eyes to the fact that every man who contributes to the common good of -mankind is one of the chosen people and that the fundamental law is to -do good to mankind. - -I discovered that John Marvel knew he was in love with Eleanor Leigh, -though how he knew it I never learned. "He never told her," he said, -"but died with it locked in his heart--as was best," he added after a -pause, and then he looked out of the window, and as he did not say -anything from which I could judge whether he knew why Wolffert never -told his love, I did not tell what I knew. It may have been the slowly -fading light which made his face so sad. I remember that a long silence -fell between us, and it came over me with a new force how much more -unselfishly both these men had loved than I and how much nobler both had -always been--the living and the dead. And I began battling with myself -to say something which I felt I ought to say, but had not courage -enough. - -Presently, John said very slowly, almost as if he were speaking to -himself, "I believe if you keep on, she will marry you, and I believe -you will help each other--I know she will help you." His arm was resting -on the table. - -I leant over and laid my hand on his arm. - -"I once thought it certain I should win her. I am far from sure that I -shall now. I am not worthy of her--but I shall try to be. You alone, -John, of all the men I know, are. I cannot give her up--but it is only -honest to tell you that I have less hope than I had." - -He turned to me with a sad little smile on his face and shook his head. - -"I would not give her up if I were you. You are not good enough for her, -but no one is, and you will grow better." - -For the first time, I almost thought him handsome. - -"You are, old man." - -"Me! Oh! no, I am not--I have my work to do--it is useless to talk to -me--you keep on." - -He picked up a paper and began to read, and I observed for the first -time that he had taken off his glasses. I made some remark on it. - -"Yes, my sight is getting better--I can see the stars now," he said -smiling. - -"Ah! John, you have long seen the stars," I said. - -So, as soon as I could travel, John Marvel sent me off--sent me to a -farmhouse where he had lived in his first parish--a place far from the -railroads; a country of woods and rolling fields and running streams; -the real country where blossoms whiten and birds sing and waters murmur. - -"They are the best people in the world," he said; and they were. They -accepted me on his word. "Mr. Marvel had sent me, and that was enough." -His word was a talisman in all that region. They did not know who the -Queen of England was, and were scarcely sure as to the President of the -United States; but they knew John Marvel. And because I had come from -him they treated me like a prince. And this was the man I had had the -folly to look down on! - -In that quiet place I seemed to have reached content. In that land of -peace the strife of the city, the noise and turmoil and horror of the -strike, seemed but as the rumble of waves breaking on some far-off -shore. I began to quaff new life with the first breath of the balmy air. - -The day after I arrived I borrowed the skiff that belonged to my host -and paddled down the little river that skirted his place, with the idea -of fishing in a pool he had told me of. - -The afternoon was so soft and balmy that I forgot my sport and simply -drifted with the current under the overhanging branches of willows and -sycamores, when, turning a bend in the stream, I came on a boat floating -in a placid pool. In it were a young lady and a little girl, and who but -Dix, his brindled head held high, his twisted ears pointed straight -up-stream, and his whole body writhing and quivering with excitement. It -was a moment before I could quite take it in, and I felt for a second as -if I were dreaming. - -Yet there was Eleanor Leigh under the willows, her small white hand -resting on the side of the boat, her face lovelier than ever, and her -voice making music in my ears with those low, sincere tones that I had -never forgotten, and which made it the most beautiful in the world. I -must have carried my soul in my eyes that moment; for the color sprang -to her cheeks and I saw a look in hers I had never seen there before. - -"Well, this is Fate," I said, as the current bore my boat against hers -and it lay locked against it in that limpid pool. - -"Would Mr. Marvel have called it so?" she asked, her eyes resting upon -me with a softer look in them than they had ever given me. - -"No, he would have said Providence." - -I am sure it was on that stream that Halcyone found retreat. In that -sweet air, freed from any anxieties except to please her whose pleasure -had become the sun of my life, I drank in health day by day and hour by -hour. My farmhouse was only a half-mile or so across the fields to the -home of Eleanor Leigh's old cousins with whom she was staying, and only -the sidereal travellers followed that path so regularly as I. It was the -same place where she had first met John Marvel--and Wolffert. She was -even interested in my law, and actually listened with intelligence to -the succulent details of Livery of Seisin, and other ancient -conveyancing. Not that she yet consented to marry me. This was a theme -she had a genius for evading. However, I knew I should win her. Only one -thing troubled me. As often as I touched on my future plans and spoke of -the happiness I should have in relieving her of the drudgery of a -teacher's life, she used to smile and contest it. It was one of the -happinesses of her life, she said, to teach that school. But for it, I -would never have "put out her fire for her that morning." Was ever such -ingratitude! Of course, I would not admit this. "Fate--no, Providence -was on my side." And I took out my violets and showed them to her, -telling her their history. They still retained a faint fragrance. And -the smile she gave was enough to make them fresh again. But I, too, -was friendly to the school. How could I be otherwise? For she told me -one day that the first time she liked me was when I was sitting by the -cab-driver holding the little dirty child in my arms, with Dix between -my feet. And I had been ashamed to be seen by her! I only feared that -she might take it into her head still to keep the school. And I now knew -that what she took into her little head to be her duty she would -perform. "By the way, you might take lessons in making up the fire," she -suggested. - -[Illustration: I am sure it was on that stream that Halcyone found -retreat.] - -I received quite a shock a few days later when I found in my mail a -letter from the Miss Tippses, telling me of their delight on learning of -my recovery, and mentioning incidentally the fact, which they felt sure -I would be glad to know, that they had settled all of their affairs in a -manner entirely satisfactory to them, as Mr. McSheen had very generously -come forward at a time when it was supposed that I was fatally injured -and had offered to make reparation to them and pay out of his own -pocket, not only all of the expenses which they had incurred about the -matter, but had actually paid them three thousand dollars over and above -these expenses, a munificent sum which had enabled them to pay dear Mrs. -Kale all they owed her. They felt sure that I would approve of the -settlement, because Mr. McSheen's intermediary had been "a life-long -friend of mine and in some sort," he said, "my former law partner, as we -had lived for years in adjoining offices." They had signed all the -papers he had presented and were glad to know that he was entirely -satisfied, and now they hoped that I would let them know what they owed -me, in order that they might settle at least that part of their debt; -but for the rest, they would always owe me a debt of undying gratitude, -and they prayed God for my speedy recovery and unending happiness, and -they felt sure Mr. Peck would rejoice also to know that I was doing so -well. - -Peck! And he had charged them a fee for his services! - -It was now approaching the autumn and I was chafing to get back to work. -I knew now that success was before me. It might be a long road; but I -was on it. - -John Marvel, in reply to an inquiry, wrote that the place was still -waiting for me in the office he had mentioned, though he did not state -what it was. - -"How stupid he is!" I complained. Eleanor Leigh only laughed. - -She "did not think him stupid at all, and certainly she did not think I -should do so. In fact, she considered him one of the most sensible men -she ever knew." - -"Why, he could not have done more to keep me in ignorance, if he had -tried," I fumed. And she only laughed the more. - -"I believe you are jealous of him." Her eyes were dancing in an -exasperating way they had. I was consumed with jealousy of everybody; -but I would never admit it. - -"Jealous of John Marvel! Nonsense! But I believe you were in--you liked -him very much?" - -"I did," she nodded cheerily. "I do--more than any one I ever -knew--almost." And she launched out in a eulogy of John which quite set -me on fire. - -"Then why did you not marry him?" I was conscious that my head went up -and my wrath was rising. - -"He never asked me." Her dancing eyes still playing hide and seek with -mine. - -"I supposed there was some good reason," I said loftily. She vouchsafed -no answer--only went on making a chain of daisies, while her dimples -came and went, and I went on to make a further fool of myself. I was -soon haled up and found myself in that outer darkness, where the -cheerful occupation is gnashing of teeth. Like the foolish -glass-merchant, I had smashed all my hopes. I walked home through the -Vale of Bitterness. - -That evening, after spending some hours in trying to devise a plan by -which I could evade the humiliation of an absolute surrender, and get -back without crawling too basely, I went over to say what I -called--good-by. I was alone; for Dix had abandoned me for her, and I -did not blame him even now. It was just dusk; but it seemed to me -midnight. I had never known the fields so dark. As I turned into a path -through the orchard where I had had so many happy hours, I discovered -her sitting on the ground beneath a tree with Dix beside her; but as I -approached she rose and leant against the tree, her dryad eyes resting -on me placidly. I walked up slowly. - -"Good evening--" solemnly. - -"Good evening--" seriously. - -I was choosing amongst a half-dozen choice sentences I had framed as an -introduction to my parting speech, when she said quietly, looking up: "I -thought you might not come back this evening." - -"I have come to say good-by." - -"Are you going away?" Her voice expressed surprise--nothing more. - -"Yes." Solemnly. - -"For how long?"--without looking up. - -"Perhaps, forever." Tragically. - -"You are better at making a fire than I had supposed. Will you give me -Dix?" This with the flash of a dimple. - -"I--I--yes--if you want him." - -I glanced at her face just in time to see the dimples disappear. "I am -thinking of being married next week." My heart stopped beating. - -"You were--what?" - -"But of course, if you are going away I could not do it, could I?" Her -eyes sought mine, then fell. - -"Eleanor!" I tried to possess myself of her hand; but she put it behind -her. I tried to secure the other; but that also disappeared. Then I -took--herself. "Eleanor!" Her face next second had grown grave. She -looked up suddenly and looked me full in the eyes. - -"You are a goose. What would you think if I were to say I would marry -you right away?" She looked down again quickly, and her face was sweet -with tenderness. - -I was conscious of a sudden drawing in of my breath, and a feeling as if -I were rising into the sky, "rimmed by the azure world." Then my brain -began to act, and I seemed to have been lifted above the darkness. I was -up in the sunlight again. - -"I should think I was in Heaven," I said quietly, almost reverently. -"But for God's sake, don't say that to me unless you mean it." - -"Well, I will. I have written my father. Write to Mr. Marvel and ask him -to come here." - -I have never known yet whether this last was a piece of humor. I only -know I telegraphed John Marvel, and though I rode all night to do so, I -thought it was broad daylight. - -In the ripe autumn John Marvel, standing before us in his white surplice -in the little chapel among the oaks and elms which had been his first -church, performed the ceremony that gave me the first prize I had really -striven for--the greatest any man on earth could have won. - -Still, as often as I spoke of my future plans, there was some secret -between them: a shadowy suggestion of some mystery in which they both -participated. And, but that I knew John Marvel too well, I might have -been impatient. But I knew him now for the first time as she had known -him long. - -On our arrival in the city, after I had given the driver an order where -to go, she gave another, and when the carriage drew up, it was not at my -hotel, but at the door of the sunny house on the corner where I had -first seen Eleanor Leigh come tripping down the steps with her parcels -for the poor little crippled child and her violets for the Miss Tippses. -Springing out before me, with her face radiant with joy and mystery, she -tripped up the steps now just as the door was flung open by a butler who -wore a comical expression of mingled pleasure and solemnity, for the -butler was Jeams, and then having introduced him to me, she suddenly -took the key from the lock, and handing it to me with a bow and a low -laugh of delight: - -"I make you, sir, livery of seisin." - -This, then, was the mystery. - -She still lived in the house on the corner--through the aid offered by -my namesake and kinsman her father had been enabled to retain it, and -had given it to her as a wedding present. - -So after long striving by ways that I knew not, and by paths that I had -not tried, my fancy was realized. - -I now dwell in the house on the corner that I picked so long ago for its -sunshine. - -It is even sunnier than I thought it. For I have found that sunlight and -sweetness are not from without, but from within, and in that home is the -radiance I caught that happy morning when I first saw Eleanor Leigh come -tripping down the steps, like April, shedding sunshine and violets in -her path. - - - - -XL - -THE CURTAIN - - -In closing a novel, the old novelists used to tell their readers, who -had followed them long enough to become their friends, what in the -sequel became of all the principal characters; and this custom I feel -inclined to follow, because it appears to me to show that the story is -in some sort the reflection of life as it is and not as novelist or -reader would make it. Fate may follow all men, but not in the form in -which every reader would have it fall. - -It might have satisfied one's ideas of justice if I could have told how -Collis McSheen reaped in prison the reward of his long hidden crimes, -and the adventurer, Pushkin, unmasked and degraded, was driven out from -among the wealthy, whom he so sedulously cultivated; but this would not -have been true to the facts. Collis McSheen moved into the great house -which he had bought with his ill-gained wealth to gratify his daughter's -ambition, and lived for many years, to outward seeming, a more or less -respectable man; gave reasonably where he thought it would pay, from the -money of which he had robbed others, and doubtless endeavored to forget -his past, as he endeavored to make others forget it; but that past was -linked to him by bands which no effort could ever break. And though he -secured the adulation of those whom he could buy with his gaudy -entertainments, he could never secure the recognition of any worthy man. - -In his desperate hope to become respectable he broke with many of his -old friends and with all whom he could escape from, but he could not -escape from one, however he strove to break with him: himself. Chained -to him by a bond he could not break was the putrescent body of his -reeking past. It is the curse of men like him that those he longs to -make his friends are the element who will have none of him. Thus, like -Sisyphus, he ever strives to roll the stone to the hill-top, and, like -Tantalus, he ever strives to reach the water flowing below his lips. -Though he had escaped the legal punishment of his crimes, his punishment -was that he lived in constant dread of the detection which appeared ever -to dog his footsteps. The last measure in the bitter cup which he had -filled with his own hand came from his daughter, who now called herself -Countess Pushkin. Finding that, notwithstanding her so-called title and -large establishment, she was excluded from that set to which she had -been tolerantly admitted while she had youth and gayety and the spirits -of a schoolgirl, not to mention the blindness of that age to things -which experience sees clearly enough, she conceived the idea that it was -her father's presence in her home which closed to her the doors of those -houses where she aspired to be intimate. The idea, though it had long -had a lodgment in her mind, had been fostered by Pushkin. Having to -make her choice between her father and her social aspirations, she -decided promptly. The scene which occurred was one which neither Collis -McSheen nor his daughter could ever forget. In the sequel McSheen moved -out and took quarters in a hotel, where he gradually sank into the -hopelessness of a lonely misanthrope, shorn of his power, feared only by -those he despised, detested by those he admired, and haunted by the fear -of those he hated. - -Pushkin remained in some sort in possession of the field, but though -McSheen's daughter had been able to banish her father from his own home, -she could not escape from her husband, whose vices, if apparently less -criminal than McSheen's, were not less black. His capacity for spending -money was something she had never dreamed of, and, like the -horse-leech's daughter, he continually called for more, until after a -furious scene, his wife awoke to her power, and already half-beggared, -suddenly shut her purse as her heart had been long shut against him, and -bade him go. From this time her power over him was greater than it had -ever been before; but unless rumor belied them desperately, they lived a -life of cat and dog with all that it implied, until finally Pushkin was -driven out, and after hanging about for a few years, died, as I learned, -while his wife was off in Europe. - -Peck continued, to outward appearance, a prosperous lawyer. His -inveterate economy enabled him to preserve the appearance of prosperity; -but no lawyer of standing ever spoke of him without a shrug of the -shoulder or a lift of the eyebrow. Rumor dealt somewhat freely with his -domestic affairs, but I never knew the facts, and rumor is often as -great a liar almost as--I had nearly said as Peck, but that would be -impossible. My last personal experience of him was in the case of Mr. -Leigh's suit to keep control of his railway. In the final suit involving -the straightening out of all matters connected with the attempt of the -Canters and their set to get control of this property, I was retained as -junior counsel along with my kinsman, Mr. Glave, and other counsel, -representing Mr. Leigh's and his associates' interest. Peck appeared in -the case as one of the representatives of a small alleged interest held -by his father-in-law, Mr. Poole, which, as turned out on the final -decision of the cause, had no value whatever. This having been decided, -Peck, who was not without energy, at least where money was concerned, -brought forward a claim for compensation to be allowed him out of the -fund, and when this also was decided against him, he sought and secured -a conference with our counsel, at which I was present. The contention -which he set forth was based upon an equitable claim, as he termed it, -to compensation for expenses and professional services expended under -color of title, and if the facts he stated had been so, he might have -been entitled equitably to some allowance. I had satisfied myself that -his claims were without a shadow of foundation, yet he had the nerve, -when he concluded his argument, or rather his personal appeal to our -counsel, to turn to me for corroboration of his statement. - -"I admit, gentlemen," he said, "that these facts rest largely on my -personal assurances, and, unfortunately, I am not known personally to -most of you, though I trust that my professional standing where I am -known may be accepted as a guarantee of my statements; but happily, -there is one of you to whom I can refer with confidence, my old college -mate and valued friend, Henry Glave. I might almost term him my former -partner, so closely were we associated in the days when we were both -struggling young attorneys, living in adjoining offices--I might, -indeed, almost say the same office. He, I feel quite sure, will -corroborate every statement I have made, at least so far as he knows the -facts, and even where they rest wholly on my declaration, I feel sure of -his indorsement, for he knows that I would cut off my right hand and -have my tongue torn from its roots, before I would utter an untruth in -any matter whatsoever; and least of all, where so paltry a thing as -money is concerned. I appeal to Henry Glave." - -He sat down with his eyes fixed blandly on me. I was so taken aback that -I scarcely knew what to say. The smoothness of his words and the -confidence of his manner had evidently made an impression on the others. -They had, indeed, almost influenced me, but suddenly a whole train of -reflection swept through my mind. Peck's duplicity from his earliest -appearance in Wolffert's room at college down to the present, with my -two old clients, the Miss Tippses, at the end, deceived and robbed by -Collis McSheen, with Peck, as the facile instrument, worming himself -into their confidence for what he called so paltry a thing as money, all -came clearly to my mind. I stood up slowly, for I was thinking hard; but -my duty appeared clear. - -I regretted, I said, that Mr. Peck had appealed to me and to my long -acquaintance with him, for it made my position a painful one; but as he -had cited me as a witness, I felt that my duty was plain, and this was -to state the facts. In my judgment, Mr. Peck was not entitled to any -compensation whatever, as the evidence, so far as it existed outside of -Mr. Peck's statements, was contrary to his contention, and so far as it -rested on his personal testimony, I considered it as nothing, for I -would not believe one word he said where his personal interest was -concerned. - -"And now," I added, "if Mr. Peck wishes me to give the grounds on which -this opinion of mine is based, either orally or in writing, I will do -so." - -I paused, with my gaze fastened on him, and, with a sudden settling in -their seats, the other counsel also turned their eyes on him. His face -had suddenly blanched, but beyond this his expression did not change. He -sat for a few seconds rather limply, and then slowly rose. - -"I am astonished," he began slowly, and his voice faltered. "I am -surprised, gentlemen, that Mr. Glave should think such things of me." He -took out his watch, fumblingly, and glanced at it. It was the same watch -he had got of me. "I see I must ask you to excuse me. I must catch my -train," he stammered. "Good morning," and he put on his hat and slunk -out of the door. - -As the door closed every one drew a long breath and settled in his seat, -and nearly every one said, "Well." - -My kinsman, whose eyes had been resting on me with a somewhat unwonted -twinkle in them, reached across the board and extended his large hand. - -"Well, young man, you and I had a misunderstanding a few years ago, but -I hope you bear me no grudge for it now. I should like to be friends -with you. If you had needed it, you would have squared all accounts -to-day. I know that man. He is the greatest liar on earth. He has lost -the power to tell the truth." - -It may well be believed that I had gripped his hand when he first held -it out, and the grip was one of a friendship that has lasted. - -I had expected to hear from Peck, but no word came from him, and the -last I ever heard of him was that he and McSheen had had a quarrel, in -which McSheen had kicked him out of his office. A suit appeared on the -docket against McSheen, in which Peck was the plaintiff, but no -declaration was ever filed, and the case was finally dropped from the -docket. - -Jeams failed to hold long the position of butler in our modest -household, for though my wife put up--on my account, as I believe--with -Jeams's occasionally marked unsteadiness of gait or mushiness of -utterance, she finally broke with him on discovering that Dix showed -unmistakable signs of a recent conflict, in which the fact that he had -been worsted had possibly something to do with Jeams's discharge, for -Dix was the idol of her heart, and it came to her ears that Jeams had -taken Dix out one night and matched him against the champion of the -town. But though Jeams lost the post of butler, he simply reverted to -his old position of factotum and general utility man about my premises. -His marriage to a very decent woman, though, according to rumor, with a -termagant's tongue, helped to keep him reasonably straight, though not -uniformly so; for one afternoon my wife and I came across him when he -showed that degree of delightful pomposity which was the unmistakable -sign of his being "half-shot." - -"Jeams," I said, when I had cut short his grandiloquence, "what will -Eliza say to you when she finds you this way again?" - -Jeams straightened himself and assumed his most dignified air. "My wife, -sir, knows better than to take me to task. She recognizes me, sir, as a -gentleman." - -"She does? You wait and see when you get home." - -Jeams's manner suddenly changed. He sank back into his half-drivelling -self. "Oh, she ain't gwine to say nothin' to me, Marse Hen. She ain't -gwine to say no more than Miss Nelly there says to you when you gets -this way. What does she say to you?" - -"She doesn't say anything to me. She has no occasion to do so." - -Jeams twisted his head to one side and burst into a drunken laugh. "Oh! -Yes, she do. I've done heard her. Eliza, she regalates me, and Miss -Nelly, she regalates you, an' I reckon we both knows it, and we better -know it, too." - -And this was the fact. As usual, Jeams had struck the mark. - -As for John Marvel, he remained the same old John--plodding, quiet, -persistent, patient, zealous, cheery and self-sacrificing, working among -the poor with an unfaltering trust in human nature which no shocks could -shake, because deep down in the untroubled depths of his soul lay an -unfaltering trust in the Divine Goodness and wisdom of God. He had been -called to a larger and quite important church, but after a few days of -consideration he, against the earnest wishes and advice of his friends, -myself among them, declined the call. He assigned among other reasons -the fact that he was expected to work to pay off the debt for which the -church was somewhat noted, and he knew nothing about business, his duty -was to preach the gospel, but when friends made it plain that the debt -would be taken care of if he became the rector, he still shook his head. -His work was among the poor and he could not leave them. - -My wife and I went out to his church the Sunday evening following his -decision, and as we strolled along through the well-known squalid -streets, I could not help expressing my disappointment that after all -our work he should have rejected the offer. - -"He is really the most unpractical man on earth," I fumed. "Here we have -gotten him a good call to a church that many a man would jump at, and -when he finds a difficulty in the way, we work until we have removed it -and yet he rejects it. He will remain an assistant to the end of his -days." My wife made no reply, a sure sign that she did not agree with -me, but did not care to discuss the matter. It is her most effective -method of refuting me. - -When we arrived we found the little church packed to suffocation and men -on the outside leaning in at the windows. Among them I recognized the -tall form of my old Drummer. As we joined the group, John Marvel's -voice, clear and strong, came floating out through the open windows. - -He was giving out a hymn. - - "One sweetly solemn thought - Comes to me o'er and o'er: - I am nearer home to-day - Than I ever have been before." - -The whole congregation joined in, those without the church as well as -those who were within. - -As I heard the deep bass of the old Drummer, rolling in a low, solemn -undertone, a sudden shifting of the scene came to me. I was in a great -auditorium filled with light, and packed with humanity rising tier on -tier and stretching far back till lost in the maze of distances. A grand -orchestra, banked before me, with swaying arms and earnest faces, played -a wonderful harmony which rolled about me like the sea and whelmed me -with its volume till I was almost swept away by the tide, then suddenly -down under its sweep I found the low deep roll of the bass drum. No one -appeared to mark it or paid any heed to him. Nor did the big Drummer pay -any heed to the audience. All he minded was the harmony and his drum. -But I knew that, unmarked and unheeded, it set athrob the pulsing air -and stirred the billows through which all that divine music reached and -held the soul. - -As we walked home that night after pressing our way into the throng of -poor people to wring John Marvel's hand, I said to my wife after a -struggle with myself to say it: - -"I think I was wrong about John, and you were right. He did right. He is -well named the Assistant." - -My wife said simply: "I feel that I owe him more than I can say." She -slipped her hand in my arm, and a warm feeling for all mankind surged -about my heart. - - * * * * * - - -BOOKS BY THOMAS NELSON PAGE - - -ROBERT E. LEE: The Southerner - -"The South will treasure this volume."--_Louisville Courier-Journal._ - - -THE OLD DOMINION: Her Making and Her Manners - -"One of the most charming volumes ever written about Virginia; as -history it is important."--_Newark Evening News._ - - -THE OLD SOUTH - -Essays Social and Political - -"They afford delightful glimpses of aspects and conditions of Southern -life which few at the North have ever appreciated fully."--_The -Congregationalist._ - - -THE NEGRO: The Southerner's Problem - -"One of the most dispassionate and illuminating discussions of the -racial questions in the South."--_Cincinnati Times-Star._ - - -SOCIAL LIFE IN OLD VIRGINIA BEFORE THE WAR - -"Will be much admired by the lovers of 'the good old times,' which the -author describes so graphically."--_Charleston News and Courier._ - - -THE COAST OF BOHEMIA - -"These poems are full of music. They are exquisite in sentiment and -charming in expression."--_Nashville American._ - - -RED ROCK - -A Chronicle of Reconstruction - -Illustrated by B. West Clinedinst - -"One of the most satisfactory works of fiction that the South has ever -produced. On all this crowded canvas there is not a figure that is not -drawn from the life, and given character by sympathy or insight into -motive."--_The Dial._ - - -THE OLD GENTLEMAN OF THE BLACK STOCK - -With 8 colored illustrations by H. C. Christy - -"This is not only one of the most characteristic and charming of Mr. -Page's studies of Virginia character, but it is a story which readily -lends itself to illustration, and especially to the kind of decorative -illustration which Mr. Christy has given it."--_The Outlook._ - - -IN OLE VIRGINIA - -Marse Chan, and Other Stories - -"Nothing more beautiful than these stories has ever been penned by a -Southern writer. The person who has not read them has missed something -akin to the loss of the town-bred child who treads among forests of -stone houses, and who has never known a forest of nature, the perfume of -wild dog-roses, and the unsoiled beauty of God's sunshine."--_New -Orleans Picayune._ - - -THE BURIAL OF THE GUNS - -"One can hardly read the story that gives the name to this volume -without a quickening of the breath and moisture of the eye."--_Christian -Register._ - -"Three of them are war stories, and all are told in Mr. Page's charming -style."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._ - - -GORDON KEITH - -"Always rings true. Its ideas are of the sincere, manly type."--_New -York Tribune._ - - -BRED IN THE BONE - -"A book which will be thoroughly enjoyed."--_Literary World._ - - -UNDER THE CRUST - -"It contains work which Mr. Page has never surpassed."--_The Outlook._ - - -ON NEWFOUND RIVER: A Story - -"The rich promise of his rarely beautiful short stories has been -fulfilled, and the Old Dominion has another novelist of whom she may be -proud."--_Richmond Dispatch._ - - -ELSKET AND OTHER STORIES - -"'Elsket' is a veritable poem in prose--a tragic poem that you will -hardly read, unless you are very hard hearted indeed, without the -tribute of a tear. Of the five stories in the book, however, the one -which moves me most deeply is 'Run to Seed.'"--LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON, -_in the Boston Herald_. - - -PASTIME STORIES - -With Illustrations by A. B. Frost - -"Some of these short character sketches equal in artistic moderation and -fineness of workmanship the best work Mr. Page has ever done."--_New -York Times._ - - -STORIES AND SPECIAL EDITIONS - - -"Mr. Page is the brightest star in our Southern literature. He belongs -to the old Virginia quality; he knows the life of the people, he knows -the negro and renders his dialect perfectly, he has an eye for the -picturesque, the poetic, and the humorous, and his style shows exquisite -artistic taste and skill."--_Nashville American._ - - -=TOMMY TROT'S VISIT TO SANTA CLAUS.= Illustrated in colors. - -=A CAPTURED SANTA CLAUS.= Illustrated in colors. - -=SANTA CLAUS'S PARTNER.= With illustrations in colors. - -=IN OLE VIRGINIA.= With illustrations by FROST, PYLE, SMEDLEY, and others. - -=IN OLE VIRGINIA.= [_Cameo Edition._] With an etching by W. L. SHEPPARD. - -=MARSE CHAN.= A Tale of Old Virginia. Illustrated. - -=MEH LADY.= A Story of the War. Illustrated. - -=POLLY.= A Christmas Recollection. Illustrated. - -=UNC' EDINBURG.= A Plantation Echo. Illustrated. - -"=BEFO' THE WAR.=" Echoes of Negro Dialect. By A. C. GORDON and THOMAS -NELSON PAGE. - -=AMONG THE CAMPS=, or Young People's Stories of the War. Illustrated. - -=TWO LITTLE CONFEDERATES.= Illustrated. - - - CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS - NEW YORK - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's John Marvel, Assistant, by Thomas Nelson Page - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOHN MARVEL, ASSISTANT *** - -***** This file should be named 41817-8.txt or 41817-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/1/8/1/41817/ - -Produced by D Alexander, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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