THE WORKS OF E. P. ROE

VOLUME THREE

A KNIGHT OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

[Illustration: "WOULD HE NEVER LOOK UP?"Knight XIX Century _Frontispiece_]

THIS BOOK IS REVERENTLYDEDICATED TO THE MEMORYOF MY HONORED FATHER

PREFACE

 He best deserves a knightly crest, Who slays the evils that infest His soul within. If victor here, He soon will find a wider sphere. The world is cold to him who pleads; The world bows low to knightly deeds. 

CORNWALL ON THE HUDSON, N. Y. 

CONTENTS

CHAPTER IBAD TRAINING FOR A KNIGHT

CHAPTER IIBOTH APOLOGIZE

CHAPTER IIICHAINED TO AN ICEBERG

CHAPTER IVIMMATURE

CHAPTER VPASSION'S CLAMOR

CHAPTER VI"GLOOMY GRANDEUR"

CHAPTER VIIBIRDS OF PREY

CHAPTER VIIITHEIR VICTIM

CHAPTER IXPAT AND THE PRESS

CHAPTER XRETURNING CONSCIOUSNESS

CHAPTER XIHALDANE IS ARRESTED

CHAPTER XIIA MEMORABLE MEETING

CHAPTER XIIIOUR KNIGHT IN JAIL

CHAPTER XIVMR. ARNOT'S SYSTEM WORKS BADLY

CHAPTER XVHALDANE'S RESOLVE

CHAPTER XVITHE IMPULSES OF WOUNDED PRIDE

CHAPTER XVIIAT ODDS WITH THE WORLD

CHAPTER XVIIITHE WORLD'S VERDICT--OUR KNIGHT A CRIMINAL

CHAPTER XIXTHE WORLD'S BEST OFFER--A PRISON

CHAPTER XXMAIDEN AND WOOD-SAWYER

CHAPTER XXIMAGNANIMOUS MR. SHRUMPF

CHAPTER XXIIA MAN WHO HATED HIMSELF

CHAPTER XXIIIMR. GROWTHER BECOMES GIGANTIC

CHAPTER XXIVHOW PUBLIC OPINION IS OFTEN MADE

CHAPTER XXVA PAPER PONIARD

CHAPTER XXVIA SORRY KNIGHT

CHAPTER XXVIIGOD SENT HIS ANGEL

CHAPTER XXVIIIFACING THE CONSEQUENCES

CHAPTER XXIXHOW EVIL ISOLATES

CHAPTER XXXIDEAL KNIGHTHOOD

CHAPTER XXXITHE LOW STARTING-POINT

CHAPTER XXXIIA SACRED REFRIGERATOR

CHAPTER XXXIIIA DOUBTFUL BATTLE IN PROSPECT

CHAPTER XXXIVA FOOT-HOLD

CHAPTER XXXVTHAT SERMON WAS A BOMB-SHELL

CHAPTER XXXVIMR. GROWTHER FEEDS AN ANCIENT GRUDGE

CHAPTER XXXVIIHOPING FOR A MIRACLE

CHAPTER XXXVIIITHE MIRACLE TAKES PLACE

CHAPTER XXXIXVOTARIES OF THE WORLD

CHAPTER XLHUMAN NATURE

CHAPTER XLIMRS. ARNOT'S CREED

CHAPTER XLIITHE LEVER THAT MOVES THE WORLD

CHAPTER XLIIIMR. GROWTHER "STUMPED"

CHAPTER XLIVGROWTH

CHAPTER XLVLAURA ROMEYN

CHAPTER XLVIMISJUDGED

CHAPTER XLVIILAURA CHOOSES HER KNIGHT

CHAPTER XLVIIIMRS. ARNOT'S KNIGHT

CHAPTER XLIXA KNIGHTLY DEED

CHAPTER L"O DREADED DEATH!"

CHAPTER LI"O PRICELESS LIFE!"

CHAPTER LIIA MAN VERSUS A CONNOISSEUR

CHAPTER LIIIEXIT OF LAURA'S FIRST KNIGHT

CHAPTER LIVANOTHER KNIGHT APPEARS

A KNIGHT OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

CHAPTER I

BAD TRAINING FOR A KNIGHT

Egbert Haldane had an enemy who loved him very dearly, and he sincerelyreturned her affection, as he was in duty bound, since she was hismother. If, inspired by hate and malice, Mrs. Haldane had brooded overbut one question at the cradle of her child, How can I most surelydestroy this boy? she could scarcely have set about the task moreskilfully and successfully. 

But so far from having any such malign and unnatural intention, Mrs. Haldane idolized her son. To make the paradox more striking, she wasactually seeking to give him a Christian training and character. As heleaned against her knee Bible tales were told him, not merely for thesake of the marvellous interest which they ever have for children, butin the hope, also, that the moral they carry with them might remain asgerminating seed. At an early age the mother had commenced taking him tochurch, and often gave him an admonitory nudge as his restless eyeswandered from the venerable face in the pulpit. In brief, the apparentinfluences of his early life were similar to those existing inmultitudes of Christian homes. On general principles, it might be hopedthat the boy's future would be all that his friends could desire; nordid he himself in early youth promise so badly to superficial observers;and the son of the wealthy Mrs. Haldane was, on the part of the world, more the object of envy than of censure. But a close observer, whojudged of characteristic tendencies and their results by the light ofexperience, might justly fear that the mother had unwittingly done herchild irreparable wrong. 

She had made him a tyrant and a relentless task-master even in hisinfancy. As his baby-will developed he found it supreme. His nurse wasobliged to be a slave who must patiently humor every whim. He was pettedand coaxed out of his frequent fits of passion, and beguiled from hisobstinate and sulky moods by bribes. He was the eldest child and onlyson, and his little sisters were taught to yield to him, right or wrong, he lording it over them with the capricious lawlessness of an Easterndespot. Chivalric deference to woman, and a disposition to protect andhonor her, is a necessary element of a manly character in our Westerncivilization; but young Haldane was as truly an Oriental as if he hadbeen permitted to bluster around a Turkish harem; and those whom heshould have learned to wait upon with delicacy and tact becamesubservient to his varying moods, developing that essential brutalitywhich mars the nature of every man who looks upon woman as an inferiorand a servant. He loved his mother, but he did not reverence and honorher. The thought ever uppermost in his mind was, "What ought she to dofor me?" not, "What ought I to do for her?" and any effort to curb orguide on her part was met and thwarted by passionate or obstinateopposition from him. He loved his sisters after a fashion, because theywere his sisters; but so far from learning to think of them as thosewhom it would be his natural task to cherish and protect, they were, inhis estimation, "nothing but girls, " and of no account whatever wherehis interests were concerned. 

In the most receptive period of life the poison of selfishness andself-love was steadily instilled into his nature. Before he had left thenursery he had formed the habit of disregarding the wills and wishes ofothers, even when his childish conscience told him that he was decidedlyin the wrong. When he snatched his sisters' playthings they cried invain, and found no redress. The mother made peace by smoothing overmatters, and promising the little girls something else. 

Of course, the boy sought to carry into his school life the sametendencies and habits which he had learned at home, and he ever found afaithful ally in his blind, fond mother. She took his side against histeachers; she could not believe in his oppressions of his youngerplaymates; she was absurdly indignant and resentful when some sturdy boystood up for his own rights, or championed another's, and sent theincipient bully back to her, crying, and with a bloody nose. When thepampered youth was a little indisposed, or imagined himself so, he wascoddled at home, and had bonbons and fairy tales in the place oflessons. 

Judicious friends shook their heads ominously, and some even ventured tocounsel the mother to a wiser course; but she ever resented such advice. The son was the image of his lost father, and her one impulse was tolavish upon him everything that his heart craved. 

As if all this were not enough, she placed in the boy's way anothersnare, which seldom fails of proving fatal. He had only to ask for moneyto obtain it, no knowledge of its value being imparted to him. Even whenhe took it from his mother's drawer without asking, her chidings werefeeble and irresolute. He would silence and half satisfy her by saying:

"You can take anything of mine that you want. It's all in the family;what difference does it make?"

Thus every avenue of temptation in the city which could be entered bymoney was open to him, and he was not slow in choosing those naturallyattractive to a boy. 

But while his mother was blind to the evil traits and tendencies whichshe was fostering with such ominous success, there were certain overtacts naturally growing out of her indulgences which would shock herinexpressibly, and evoke even from her the strongest expressions ofindignation and rebuke. She was pre-eminently respectable, and fond ofrespect. She was a member "in good and regular standing" not only of herchurch, but also of the best society in the small inland city where sheresided, and few greater misfortunes in her estimation could occur thanto lose this status. She never hesitated to humor any of her son's whimsand wishes which did not threaten their respectability, but thequick-witted boy was not long in discovering that she would not tolerateany of those vices and associations which society condemns. 

There could scarcely have been any other result save that whichfollowed. She had never taught him self-restraint; his own inclinationsfurnished the laws of his action, and the wish to curb his desiresbecause they were wrong scarcely ever crossed his mind. To avoid troublewith his mother, therefore, he began slyly and secretly to taste theforbidden fruits which her lavish supplies of money always kept withinhis reach. In this manner that most hopeless and vitiating of elements, deceitfulness, entered into his character. He denied to his mother, andsought to conceal from her, the truth that while still in his teens hewas learning the gambler's infatuation and forming the inebriate'sappetite. He tried to prevent her from knowing that many of his mostintimate associates were such as he would not introduce to her or to hissisters. 

He had received, however, a few counter-balancing advantages in hisearly life. With all her weaknesses, his mother was a lady, and order, refinement, and elegance characterized his home. Though not a gentlemanat heart, on approaching manhood he habitually maintained the outwardbearing that society demands. The report that he was a little fast wasmore than neutralized by the fact of his wealth. Indeed, societyconcluded that it had much more occasion to smile than to frown uponhim, and his increasing fondness for society and its approval in somedegree curbed his tendencies to dissipation. 

It might also prove to his advantage that so much Christian and ethicaltruth had been lodged in his memory during early years. His mother hadreally taken pains to acquaint him with the Divine Man who "pleased nothimself, " even while she was practically teaching him to reverse thistrait in his own character. Thus, while the youth's heart was sadlyerratic, his head was tolerably orthodox, and he knew theoreticaly thechief principles of right action. Though his conscience had never beentruly awakened, it often told him that his action was unmanly, to saythe least; and that was as far as any self-censure could reach at thistime. But it might prove a fortunate thing that although thorns andthistles had been planted chiefly, some good seed had been scatteredalso, and that he had received some idea of a life the reverse of thatwhich he was leading. 

But thus far it might be said with almost literal truth, that youngHaldane's acquaintance with Christian ethics had had no more practicaleffect upon his habitual action and thought than his knowledge ofalgebra. When his mother permitted him to snatch his sisters' playthingsand keep them, when she took him from the school where he had receivedwell-merited punishment, when she enslaved herself and her household tohim instead of teaching considerate and loyal devotion to her, shenullified all the Christian instruction that she or any one else hadgiven. 

The boy had one very marked trait, which might promise well for thefuture, or otherwise, according to circumstances, and that was a certainwilful persistence, which often degenerated into downright obstinacy. Frequently, when his mother thought that she had coaxed or wheedled himinto giving up something of which she did not approve, he would quietlyapproach his object in some other way, and gain his point, or sulk tillhe did. When he set his heart upon anything he was not as "unstable aswater. " While but an indifferent and superficial student, who hadhabitually escaped lessons and skipped difficulties, he occasionallybecame nettled by a perplexing problem or task, and would work at itwith a sort of vindictive, unrelenting earnestness, as if he weresubduing an enemy. Having put his foot on the obstacle, and mastered thedifficulty that piqued him, he would cast the book aside, indifferent tothe study or science of which it formed but a small fraction. 

After all, perhaps the best that could be said of him was that hepossessed fair abilities, and was still subject to the good and generousimpulses of youth. His traits and tendencies were, in the main, allwrong; but he had not as yet become confirmed and hardened in them. Contact with the world, which sooner or later tells a man the truthabout himself, however unwelcome, might dissipate the illusion, gainedfrom his mother's idolatry, that in some indefinite way he wasremarkable in himself, and that he was destined to great things from avague and innate superiority, which it had never occurred to him toanalyze. 

But as the young man approached his majority his growing habits ofdissipation became so pronounced that even his willingly blind motherwas compelled to recognize them. Rumor of his fast and foolish behaviortook such definite shape as to penetrate the widow's aristocraticretirement, and to pass the barriers created by the reserve which sheever maintained in regard to personal and family matters. More than onceher son came home in a condition so nearly resembling intoxication thatshe was compelled to recognize the cause, and she was greatly shockedand alarmed. Again and again she said to herself:

"I cannot understand how a boy brought up in the careful Christianmanner that he has been can show such unnatural depravity. It is a dark, mysterious providence, to which I feel I cannot submit. "

Though young Haldane was aware of his mother's intolerance ofdisreputable vices and follies, he was not prepared for her strong andeven bitter condemnation of his action. Having never been taught toendure from her nor from any one the language of rebuke, he retorted asa son never should do in any circumstances, and stormy scenes followed. 

Thus the mother was at last rudely awakened to the fact that her son wasnot a model youth, and that something must be done speedily, or else hemight go to destruction, and in the meantime disgrace both himself andher--an event almost equally to be dreaded. 

In her distress and perplexity she summoned her pastor, and took counselwith him. At her request the venerable man readily agreed to "talk to"the wayward subject, and thought that his folly and its consequencescould be placed before the young man in such a strong and logicalstatement that it would convince him at once that he must "repent andwalk in the ways of righteousness. " If Haldane's errors had been thoseof doctrine, Dr. Marks would have been an admirable guide; but thetrouble was that, while the good doctor was familiar with all thereadings of obscure Greek and Hebrew texts, and all the shades ofopinions resulting, he was unacquainted with even the alphabet of humannature. In approaching "a sinner, " he had one formal and unvaryingmethod, and he chose his course not from the bearing of the subjecthimself, but from certain general theological truths which he believedapplied to the "unrenewed heart of man as a fallen race. " He ratherprided himself upon calling a sinner a sinner, and all things else bytheir right names; and thus it is evident that he often had but littleof the Pauline guile, which enabled the great apostle to entangle thewayward feet of Jew, Greek and Roman, bond and free, in heavenly snares. 

The youth whom he was to convince and convert by a single broadside oftruth, as it were, moved in such an eccentric orbit, that the doctorcould never bring his heavy artillery to bear upon him. Neither coaxingnor scolding on the part of the mother could bring about the formalinterview. At last, however, it was secured by an accident, and hismother felt thereafter, with a certain sense of consolation, that "allhad been done that could be done. "

Entering the parlor unexpectedly one afternoon, Haldane stumbleddirectly upon Dr. Marks, who opened fire at once, by saying:

"My young friend, this is quite providential, as I have long beenwishing for an interview. Please be seated, for I have certain things tosay which relate to your spiritual and temporal well-being, although thelatter is a very secondary matter. "

Haldane was too well bred to break rudely and abruptly away, and yet itmust be admitted that he complied with very much the feeling and gracewith which he would take a dentist's chair. 

"My young friend, if you ever wish to be a saint you must first have aprofound conviction that you are a sinner. I hope that you realize thatyou are a sinner. "

"I am quite content to be a gentleman, " was the brusque reply. 

"But as long as you remain an impenitent sinner you can never be even atrue gentleman, " responded the clergyman somewhat warmly. 

Haldane had caught a shocked and warning look from his mother, and sodid not reply. He saw that he was "in for it, " as he would expresshimself, and surmised that the less he said the sooner the ordeal wouldbe over. He therefore took refuge in a silence that was both sullen andresentful. He was too young and uncurbed to maintain a cold andimpassive face, and his dark eyes occasionally shot vindictive gleams atboth his mother and her ally, who had so unexpectedly caged him againsthis will. Fortunately the doctor was content, after he had got underway, to talk at, instead of to, his listener, and thus was saved themortification of asking questions of one who would not have answered. 

After the last sonorous period had been rounded, the youth arose, bowedstiffly, and withdrew, but with a heart overflowing with a maliciousdesire to retaliate. At the angle of the house stood the clergyman'ssteady-going mare, and his low, old-fashioned buggy. It was but the workof a moment to slip part of the shuck of a horse-chestnut, with itssharp spines, under the collar, so that when the traces drew upon it thespines would be driven into the poor beast's neck. Then, going down tothe main street of the town, through which he knew the doctor must passon his way home, he took his post of observation. 

CHAPTER II

BOTH APOLOGIZE

Haldane's hopes were realized beyond his anticipations, for the doctor'sold mare--at first surprised and restless from the wounds made by thesharp spines--speedily became indignant and fractious, and at last, halffrantic with pain, started on a gallop down the street, setting all thetown agog with excitement and alarm. 

With grim satisfaction Haldane saw the doctor's immaculate silk hat flyinto the mud, his wig, blown comically awry, fall over his eyes, and hisspectacles joggle down until they sat astride the tip of a ratherprominent nose. 

Having had his revenge he at once relented, and rushing out in advanceof some others who were coming to the rescue, he caught the poor beast, and stopped her so suddenly that the doctor was nearly precipitated overthe dashboard. Then, pretending to examine the harness to see thatnothing was broken, he quietly removed the cause of irritation, and thenaturally sedate beast at once became far more composed than her master, for, as a bystander remarked, the venerable doctor was "dreadfully shuckup. " It was quite in keeping with Haldane's disingenuous nature toaccept the old gentleman's profuse thanks for the rescue. The impulse tocarry his mischief still further was at once acted upon, and he offeredto see the doctor safely home. 

His services were eagerly accepted, for the poor man was much toounnerved to take the reins again, though, had he known it, the marewould now have gone to the parsonage quietly, and of her own accord. 

The doctor was gradually righted up and composed. His wig, which hadcovered his left eye, was arranged decorously in its proper place, andthe gold-rimmed spectacles pressed back so that the good man could beammildly and gratefully upon his supposed preserver. The clerical hat, however, had lost its character beyond recovery, and though its ownerwas obliged to wear it home, it must be confessed that it did not at allcomport with the doctor's dignity and calling. 

Young Haldane took the reins with a great show of solicitude andvigilance, appearing to dread another display of viciousness from themare, that was now most sheeplike in her docility; and thus, with hisconfiding victim, he jogged along through the crowded street, the objectof general approval and outspoken commendation. 

"My dear young friend, " began the doctor fervently, "I feel that youhave already repaid me amply for my labors in your behalf. "

"Thank you, " said Haldane demurely; "I think we are getting even. "

"This has been a very mysterious affair, " continued the doctor musingly;"surely 'a horse is a vain thing for safety. ' One is almost tempted tobelieve that demoniacal possession is not wholly a thing of the past. Indeed, I could not think of anything else while Dolly was acting soviciously and unaccountably. "

"I agree with you, " responded Haldane gravely, "she certainly did comedown the street like the devil. "

The doctor was a little shocked at this putting of his thoughts intoplain English, for it sounded somewhat profanely. But he was in no moodto find fault with his companion, and they got on very well together tothe end of their brief journey. The young scapegrace was glad, indeed, that it was brief, for his self-control was fast leaving him, and havingbowed a rather abrupt farewell to the doctor, he was not long inreaching one of his haunts, from which during the evening, and quitelate into the night, came repeated peals of laughter, that grew moreboisterous and discordant as that synonyme of mental and moral anarchy, the "spirit of wine, " gained the mastery. 

The tidings of her son's exploit in rescuing the doctor were not long inreaching Mrs. Haldane, and she felt that the good seed sown that day hadborne immediate fruit. She longed to fold him in her arms and commendhis courage, while she poured out thanksgiving that he himself hadescaped uninjured, which immunity, she believed, must have resulted fromthe goodness and piety of the deed. But when he at last appeared withstep so unsteady and utterance so thick that even she could not mistakethe cause, she was bewildered and bitterly disappointed by the apparentcontradictoriness of his action; and when he, too far gone fordissimulation, described and acted out in pantomime the doctor's plightand appearance, she became half hysterical from her desire to laugh, tocry, and to give vent to her kindling indignation. 

This anger was raised almost to the point of white heat on the morrow. The cause of the old mare's behavior, and the interview which had led tothe practical joke, soon became an open secret, and while it convulsedthe town with laughter, it also gave the impression that young Haldanewas in a "bad way. "

It was not long before Mrs. Haldane received a note from an indignantfellow church-member, in which, with some disagreeable comment, herson's conduct was plainly stated. She was also informed that the doctorhad become aware of the rude jest of which he had been the subject. Mrs. Haldane was almost furious; but her son grew sullen and obstinate as thestorm which he had raised increased. The only thing he would say as anapology or excuse amounted to this:

"What else could he expect from one who he so emphatically asserted wasa sinner?"

The mother wrote at once to the doctor, and was profuse in her apologiesand regrets, but was obliged to admit to him that her son was beyond hercontrol. 

When the doctor first learned the truth his equanimity was almost asgreatly disturbed as it had been on the previous day, and his firstemotions were obviously those of wrath. But a little thought brought himto a better mood. 

He was naturally deficient in tact, and his long habit of dwelling uponabstract and systematic truth had diminished his power of observantlyand intuitively gauging the character of the one with whom he wasdealing. He therefore often failed wofully in adaptation, and hissermons occasionally went off into rarefied realms of moral space, wherenothing human existed. But his heart was true and warm, and his Master'scause of far more consequence to him than his own dignity. 

As he considered the matter maturely he came to the conclusion thatthere must have been something wrong on both sides. If he had presentedthe truth properly the young man could not have acted so improperly. After recalling the whole affair, he became satisfied that he had reliedfar too much on his own strong logic, and it had seemed to him that itmust convince. He had forgotten for the moment that those who would dogood should be very humble, and that, in a certain sense, they must takethe hand of God, and place it upon the one whom they would save. 

Thus the honest old clergyman tried to search out the error and weaknesswhich had led to such a lamentable failure in his efforts; and when atlast Mrs. Haldane's note of sorrowful apology and motherly distressreached him, his anger was not only gone, but his heart was full ofcommiseration for both herself and her son. He at once sat down, andwrote her a kind and consolatory letter, in which he charged herhereafter to trust less to the "arm of flesh" and more to the "power ofGod. " He also inclosed a note to the young man, which his mother handedto him with a darkly reproachful glance. He opened it with acontemptuous frown, expecting to find within only indignant upbraidings;but his face changed rapidly as he read the following words:

"MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND--I hardly know which of us should apologize. Inow perceive and frankly admit that there was wrong on my side. Icould not have approached you and spoken to you in the right spirit, for if I had, what followed could not have occurred. I fear therewas a self-sufficiency in my words and mariner yesterday, which madeyou conscious of Dr. Marks only, and you had no scruples in dealingwith Dr. Marks as you did. If my words and bearing had brought youface to face with my august yet merciful Master, you would haverespected Him, and also me, His servant. I confess that I was veryangry this morning, for I am human. But now I am more concerned lestI have prejudiced you against Him by whom alone we all are saved. Yours faithfully, "ZEBULON MARKS. "

The moment Haldane finished reading the note he left the room, and hismother heard him at the hat-rack in the hall, preparing to go out. She, supposing that he was again about to seek some of his evil haunts, remonstrated sharply; but, without paying the slightest attention to herwords, he departed, and within less than half an hour rang the bell atthe parsonage. 

Dr. Marks could scarcely believe his eyes as the young man was showninto his study, but he welcomed him as cordially as though nothingunpleasant had occurred between them. 

After a moment's hesitation and embarrassment Haldane began:

"When I read your note this evening I had not the slightest doubt that Iwas the one to apologize, and I sincerely ask your pardon. "

The old gentleman's eyes grew moist, and he blew his nose in a ratherunusual manner. But he said promptly:

"Thank you, my young friend, thank you. I appreciate this. But no matterabout me. How about my Master? won't you become reconciled to Him?"

"I suppose by that you mean, won't you be a Christian?"

"That is just what I mean and most desire. I should be willing to riskbroken bones any day to accomplish that. "

Haldane smiled, shook his head, and after a moment said:

"I must confess that I have not the slightest wish to become aChristian. "

The old gentleman's eager and interested expression changed instantly toone of the deepest sorrow and commiseration. At the same time heappeared bewildered and perplexed, but murmured, more in soliloquy thanas an address to the young man:

"O Ephraim! how shall I give thee up?"

Haldane was touched by the venerable man's tone and manner, more than hewould have thought possible, and, feeling that he could not trusthimself any longer, determined to make his escape as soon aspracticable. But as he rose to take his leave he said, a littleimpulsively:

"I feel sure, sir, that if you had spoken and looked yesterday as you dothis evening I would not have--I would not have--"

"I understand, my young friend; I now feel sure that I was more to blamethan yourself, and your part is already forgiven and forgotten. I am nowonly solicitous about _you_. "

"You are very kind to feel so after what has happened, and I will saythis much--If I ever do wish to become a Christian, there is no oneliving to whom I will come for counsel more quickly than yourself. Good-night, sir. "

"Give me your hand before you go. "

It was a strong, warm, lingering grasp that the old man gave, and in thedark days of temptation that followed, Haldane often felt that it had ahelping and sustaining influence. 

"I wish I could hold on to you, " said the doctor huskily; "I wish Icould lead you by loving force into the paths of pleasantness and peace. But what I can't do, God can. Good-by, and God bless you. "

Haldane fled rather precipitously, for he felt that he was becomingconstrained by a loving violence that was as mysterious as it waspowerful. Before he had passed through the main street of the town, however, a reckless companion placed an arm in his, and led him to oneof their haunts, where he drank deeper than usual, that he might get ridof the compunctions which the recent interview had occasioned. 

His mother was almost in despair when he returned. He had, indeed, become to her a terrible and perplexing problem. As she considered thelegitimate results of her own weak indulgence she would sigh again andagain:

"Never was there a darker and more mysterious providence. I feel that Ican neither understand it nor submit. "

A sense of helplessness in dealing with this stubborn and perverse willoverwhelmed her, and, while feeling that something must be done, she wasat a loss what to do. Her spiritual adviser having failed to meet thecase, she next summoned her legal counsellor, who managed her property. 

He was a man of few words, and an adept in worldly wisdom. 

"Your son should have employment, " he said;

 "'Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands, '

"etc. , is a sound maxim, if not first-class poetry. If Mr. Arnot, thehusband of your old friend, is willing to take him, you cannot do betterthan place your son in his charge, for he is one of the most methodicaland successful business men of my acquaintance. "

Mrs. Arnot, in response to her friend's letter, induced her husband tomake a position in his counting-house for young Haldane, who, from anatural desire to see more of the world, entered into the arrangementvery willingly. 

CHAPTER III

CHAINED TO AN ICEBERG

Hillaton, the suburban city in which the Arnots resided, was not verydistant from New York, and drew much of its prosperity from itsrelations with the metropolis. It prided itself much on being auniversity town, but more because many old families of extremely blueblood and large wealth gave tone and color to its society. It is truethat this highest social circle was very exclusive, and formed but asmall fraction of the population; but the people in general had come tospeak of "our society, " as being "unusually good, " just as theycommended to strangers the architecture of "our college buildings, "though they had little to do with either. 

Mrs. Arnot's blood, however, was as blue as that of the most ancient andaristocratic of her neighbors, while in character and culture she hadfew equals. But with the majority of those most cerulean in their vitalfluid the fact that she possessed large wealth in her own name, and wasthe wife of a man engaged in a colossal business, weighed more than allher graces and ancestral honors. 

Young Haldane's employer, Mr. Arnot, was, indeed, a man of business andmethod, for the one absorbed his very soul, and the other divided hislife into cubes and right angles of manner and habit. It could scarcelybe said that he had settled down into ruts, for this would presupposethe passiveness of a nature controlled largely by circumstances. Peoplewho travel in ruts drop more often into those made by others than suchas are worn by themselves. Mr. Arnot moved rather in his ownwell-defined grooves, which he had deliberately furrowed out with hisown steely will. In these he went through the day with the same strong, relentless precision which characterized the machinery in his severalmanufacturing establishments. 

He was a man, too, who had always had his own way, and, as is usuallytrue in such instances, the forces of his life had become whollycentripetal. 

The cosmos of the selfish man or woman is practically this--Myself thecentre of the universe, and all things else are near or remote, of valueor otherwise, in accordance with their value and interest to me. 

Measuring by this scale of distances (which was the only correct one inthe case of Mr. Arnot) the wife of his bosom was quite a remote object. She formed no part of his business, and he, in his hard, narrowworldliness, could not even understand the principles and motives of heraction. She was a true and dutiful wife, and presided over his householdwith elegance and refinement; but he regarded all this as a matter ofcourse. He could not conceive of anything else in _his_ wife. Allhis "subordinates" in their several spheres, "must" perform their dutieswith becoming propriety. Everything "must be regular and systematic" inhis house, as truly as in his factories and counting-room. 

Mrs. Arnot endeavored to conform to his peculiarities in this respect, and kept open the domestic grooves in which it was necessary to hispeace that he should move regularly and methodically. He had his mealsat the hour he chose, to the moment, and when he retired to hislibrary--or, rather, the business office at his house--not thethrone-room of King Ahasuerus was more sacred from intrusion; and seldomto his wife, even, was the sceptre of favor and welcome held out, shouldshe venture to enter. 

For a long time she had tried to be an affectionate as well as afaithful wife, for she had married this man from love. She had mistakenhis cool self-poise for the calmness and steadiness of strength; andwomen are captivated by strength, and sometimes by its semblance. He wasstrong; but so also are the driving-wheels of an engine. 

There is an undefined, half-recognized force in nature which leads manyto seek to balance themselves by marrying their opposites intemperament. While the general working of this tendency is, no doubt, beneficent, it not unfrequently brings together those who are soradically different, that they cannot supplement each other, but mustever remain two distinct, unblended lives, that are in duty bound toobey the letter of the law of marriage, but who cannot fulfil itsspirit. 

For years Mrs. Arnot had sought with all a woman's tact to consummatetheir marriage, so that the mystical words of God, "And they twain shallbe one flesh, " should describe their union; but as time passed she hadseen her task grow more and more hopeless. The controlling principles ofeach life were utterly different. He was hardening into stone, while thedross and materiality of her nature were being daily refined away. Astrong but wholly selfish character cannot blend by giving and taking, and thus becoming modified into something different and better. It canonly absorb, and thus drag down to its own condition. Before there canbe unity the weaker one must give up and yield personal will andindependence to such a degree that it is almost equivalent to beingdevoured and assimilated. 

But Mr. Arnot seemed to grow too narrow and self-sufficient in hisnature for such spiritual cannibalism, even had his wife been a weak, neutral character, with no decided and persistent individuality of herown. He was not slow in exacting outward and mechanical service, but hehad no time to "bother" with her thoughts, feelings, and opinions; nordid he think it worth while, to any extent, to lead her to reflect onlyhis feelings and opinions. Neither she nor any one else was veryessential to him. His business _was_ necessary, and he valued it evenmore than the wealth which resulted from it. He grew somewhat like hismachinery, which needed attention, but which cherished no sentimentstoward those who waited on it during its hours of motion. 

Thus, though not deliberately intending it, his manner toward his wifehad come to be more and more the equivalent of a steady black frost, andshe at last feared that the man had congealed or petrified to his veryheart's core. 

While the only love in Mr. Arnot's heart was self-love, even in thisthere existed no trace of weak indulgence and tenderness. His lifeconsisted in making his vast and complicated business go forwardsteadily, systematically, and successfully; and he would not permit thatentity known as Thomas Arnot to thwart him any more than he would brookopposition or neglect in his office-boy. All things, even himself, mustbend to the furtherance of his cherished objects. 

But, whatever else was lacking, Mr. Arnot had a profound respect for hiswife. First and chiefly, she was wealthy, and he, having control of herproperty, made it subservient to his business. He had chafed at firstagainst what he termed her "sentimental ways of doing good" and her"ridiculous theories, " but in these matters he had ever found her asgentle as a woman, but as unyielding as granite. She told him plainlythat her religious life and its expression were matters between herselfand God--that it was a province into which his cast-iron system andmaterial philosophy could not enter. He grumbled at her large charities, and declared that she "turned their dwelling into a club-house for youngmen"; but she followed her conscience with such a quiet, unswervingdignity that he found no pretext for interference. The money she gaveaway was her own, and fortunately, the house to which it was her delightto draw young men from questionable and disreputable places of resorthad been left to her by her father. Though she did not continuallyremind her husband of these facts, as an under-bred woman might havedone, her manner was so assured and unhesitating that he was compelledto recognize her rights, and to see that she was fully aware of themalso. Since she yielded so gracefully and considerately all and morethan he could justly claim, he finally concluded to ignore what heregarded as her "peculiarities. " As for himself, he had nopeculiarities. He was a "practical, sensible man, with no nonsense abouthim. "

Mrs. Haldane had been in such sore straits and perplexity about her sonthat she overcame her habitual reserve upon family and personal matters, and wrote to her friend a long and confidential letter, in which shefully described the "mysterious providence" which was clouding her life. 

Mrs. Arnot had long been aware of her friend's infirmity, and more thanonce had sought with delicacy and yet with faithfulness to open her eyesto the consequences of her indulgence. But Mrs. Haldane, unfortunately, was incapable of taking a broad, and therefore correct, view ofanything. She was governed far more by her prejudices and feelings thanby reason or experience, and the emotion or prejudice uppermost absorbedher mind so completely as to exclude all other considerations. Herfriendship for Mrs. Arnot had commenced at school, but the two ladieshad developed so differently that the relation had become more acherished memory of the happy past than a congenial intimacy of theirmaturer life. 

The "mysterious providence" of which Mrs. Haldane wrote was to Mrs. Arnot a legitimate and almost inevitable result. But, now that themischief had been accomplished, she was the last one in the world to sayto her friend, "I told you so. " To her mind the providential feature inthe matter was the chance that had come to her of counteracting the evilwhich the mother had unconsciously developed. This opportunity was inthe line of her most cherished plan and hope of usefulness, as will behereafter seen, and she had lost no time in persuading her husband togive Haldane employment in his counting-room. She also secured hisconsent that the youth should become a member of the family, for a timeat least. Mr. Arnot yielded these points reluctantly, for it was a partof his policy to have no more personal relations with his _employes_than with his machinery. He wished them to feel that they were merely apart of his system, and that the moment any one did not work regularlyand accurately he must be cast aside as certainly as a broken ordefective wheel. But as his wife's health made her practically a silentpartner in his vast business, he yielded--though with rather ill grace, and with a prediction that it "would not work well. "

Haldane was aware that his mother had written a long letter to Mrs. Arnot, and he supposed that his employer and his wife had thus becomeacquainted with all his misdeeds. He, therefore, rather dreaded to meetthose who must, from the first, regard him as a graceless and difficultsubject, that could not be managed at home. But, with the characteristicrecklessness of young men who have wealth to fall back upon, he hadfortified himself by thoughts like the following:

"If they do not treat me well, or try to put me into a straight-jacket, or if I find the counting-house too dull, I can bid them good-morningwhenever I choose. "

But Mrs. Arnot's frank and cordial reception was an agreeable surprise. He arrived quite late in the evening, and she had a delightful littlelunch brought to him in her private parlor. By the time it was eaten hergraceful tact had banished all stiffness and sense of strangeness, andhe found himself warming into friendliness toward one whom he hadespecially dreaded as a "remarkably pious lady"--for thus his mother hadalways spoken of her. 

It was scarcely strange that he should be rapidly disarmed by this lady, who cannot be described in a paragraph. Though her face was ratherplain, it was so expressive of herself that it seldom failed tofascinate. Nature can do much to render a countenance attractive, butcharacter accomplishes far more. The beauty which is of feature merelycatches the careless, wandering eye. The beauty which is the reflex ofcharacter _holds_ the eye, and eventually wins the heart. Those whoknew Mrs. Arnot best declared that, instead of growing old and homely, she was growing more lovely every year. Her dark hair had turned grayearly, and was fast becoming snowy white. For some years after hermarriage she had grown old very fast. She had dwelt, as it were, on thenorthern side of an iceberg, and in her vain attempt to melt andhumanize it, had almost perished herself. As the earthly streams andrills that fed her life congealed, she was led to accept of the love ofGod, and the long arctic winter of her despair passed gradually away. She was now growing young again. A faint bloom was dawning in hercheeks, and her form was gaming that fulness which is associated withthe maturity of middle age. Her bright black eyes were the mostattractive and expressive feature which she possessed, and they oftenseemed gifted with peculiar powers. 

As they beamed upon the young man they had much the same effect as theanthracite coals which glowed in the grate, and he began to be consciousof some disposition to give her his confidence. 

Having dismissed the servant with the lunch tray, she caused him to drawhis chair sociably up to the fire, and said, without any circumlocution:

"Mr. Haldane, perhaps this is the best time for us to have a frank talkin regard to the future. "

The young man thought that this was the preface for some decidedcriticism of the past, and his face became a little hard and defiant. But in this he was mistaken, for the lady made no reference to hisfaults, of which she had been informed by his mother. She spoke in akindly but almost in a business-like way of his duties in thecounting-room, and of the domestic rules of the household, to which hewould be expected to conform. She also spoke plainly of her husband'sinexorable requirement of system, regularity, and order, and dwelt uponthe fact that all in his employ conformed to this demand, and that itwas the business-like and manly thing to do. 

"This is your first venture out into the world, I understand, " she said, rising to intimate that their interview was over, "and I greatly wishthat it may lead toward a useful and successful career. I have spokenplainly because I wished you to realize just what you have undertaken, and thus meet with no unpleasant surprises or unexpected experiences. When one enters upon a course with his eyes open, he in a certain sensepledges himself to do the best he can in that line of duty, and ouracquaintance, though so brief, has convinced me that you _can_ do verywell indeed. "

"I was under the impression, " said the young man, coloring deeply, "thatmy mother's letter had led you to suppose--to expect just the contrary. "

"Mr. Haldane, " said Mrs. Arnot, giving him her hand with graceful tact, "I shall form my opinion of you solely on the ground of your own action, and I wish you to think of me as a friend who takes a genuine interestin your success. Good-night. "

He went to his room in quite a heroic and virtuous mood. 

"She does not treat me a bit like a 'bad boy, ' as I supposed she would, "he thought; "but appears to take it for granted that I shall be agentleman in this her house, and a sensible fellow in her husband'soffice. Blow me if I disappoint her!"

Nor did he for several weeks. Even Mr. Arnot was compelled to admit thatit did "work rather better than he expected, " and that he "supposed theyoung fellow did as well as he could. "

As the novelty of Haldane's new relations wore off, however, and as hisduties became so familiar as to be chiefly a matter of routine, thegrave defects of his character and training began to show themselves. The restraint of the counting-room grew irksome. Associations wereformed in the city which tended toward his old evil habits. As a pieceof Mr. Arnot's machinery he did not move with the increasing precisionthat his employer required and expected on his becoming betteracquainted with his duties. 

Mrs. Arnot had expected this, and knew that her husband would toleratecarelessness and friction only up to a certain point. She had gainedmore influence over the young man than any one else had ever possessed, and by means of it kept him within bounds for some time; but she sawfrom her husband's manner that things were fast approaching a crisis. 

One evening she kindly, but frankly, told him of the danger in which hestood of an abrupt, stern dismissal. 

He was more angry than alarmed, and during the following day aboutconcluded that he would save himself any such mortification by leavingof his own accord. He quite persuaded himself that he had a soul aboveplodding business, and that, after enjoying himself at home for a time, he could enter upon some other career, that promised more congenialityand renown. 

In order that his employer might not anticipate him, he performed hisduties very accurately that day, but left the office with theexpectation of never returning. 

He had very decided compunctions in thus requiting Mrs. Arnot'skindness, but muttered recklessly:

"I'm tired of this humdrum, treadmill life, and believe I'm destined tobetter things. If I could only get a good position in the army or navy, the world would hear from me. They say money opens every door, andmother must open some good wide door for me. "

Regardless now of his employer's good or bad opinion, he came down lateto supper; but, instead of observing with careless defiance the frownwhich he knew lowered toward him, his eyes were drawn to a fair youngface on the opposite side of the table. 

Mrs. Arnot, in her pleasant, cordial voice, which made the simplestthing she said seem real and hearty, rather than conventional, introduced him:

"Mr. Haldane, my niece, Miss Laura Romeyn. Laura, no doubt, can do farmore than an old lady to make your evenings pass brightly. "

After a second glance of scrutiny, Haldane was so ungratefully forgetfulof all Mrs. Arnot's kindness as to be inclined to agree with her remark. 

CHAPTER IV

IMMATURE

"Is she a young lady, or merely a school-girl?" was Haldane's queryconcerning the stranger sitting opposite to him; and he addressed to hera few commonplace but exploring remarks. Regarding himself as wellacquainted with society in general, and young ladies in particular, heexpected to solve the question at once, and was perplexed that he couldnot. He had flirted with several misses as immature as himself, and sothought that he was profoundly versed in the mysteries of the sex. "Theynaturally lean toward and look up to men, and one is a fool, or elselacking in personal appearance, who does not have his own way withthem, " was his opinion, substantially. 

Modesty is a grace which fine-looking young men of large wealth areoften taught by some severe experiences, if it is ever learned. Haldane, as yet, had not received such wholesome depletion. His self-approval andassurance, moreover, were quite natural, since his mother and sistershad seldom lost an opportunity of developing and confirming thesetraits. The yielding of women to his will and wishes had been one of themost uniform experiences of his life, and he had come to regard it asthe natural order of things. Without formulating the thought in plainwords, he nevertheless regarded Mrs. Arnot's kindness, by which shesought to gain a helpful influence over him, as largely due to somepeculiar fascination of his own, which made him a favorite wherever hechose to be. Of course, the young stranger on the opposite side of thetable would prove no exception to the rule, and all he had to do was tosatisfy himself that she was sufficiently pretty and interesting to makeit worth while to pay her a little attention. 

But for some reason she did not seem greatly impressed by hiscommonplace and rather patronizing remarks. Was it pride or dignity onher part, or was it mere girlish shyness? It must be the latter, forthere was no occasion for pride and dignity in her manner toward him. 

Then came the thought that possibly Mrs. Arnot had not told her who hewas, and that she looked upon him as a mere clerk of low degree. Toremove from her mind any such error, his tones and manner became stillmore self-asserting and patronizing. 

"If she has any sense at all, " he thought, "she shall see that I havepeculiar claims to her respect. "

As he proceeded in these tactics, there was a growing expression ofsurprise and a trace of indignation upon the young girl's face. Mrs. Arnot watched the by-play with an amused expression. There was not muchcynicism in her nature. She believed that experience would soon prickthe bubble of his vanity, and it was her disposition to smile ratherthan to sneer at absurdity in others. Besides, she was just. She neverapplied to a young man of twenty the standard by which she would measurethose of her own age, and she remembered Haldane's antecedents. But Mr. Arnot went to his library muttering:

"The ridiculous fool!"

When Miss Romeyn rose from the table, Haldane saw that she was certainlytall enough to be a young lady, for she was slightly above mediumheight. He still believed that she was very young, however, for herfigure was slight and girlish, and while her bearing was graceful it hadnot that assured and pronounced character to which he had beenaccustomed. 

"She evidently has not seen much of society. Well, since she is notgawky, I like her better than if she were blase. Anything but your blasegirls, " he observed to himself, with a consciousness that he was anexperienced man of the world. 

The piano stood open in the drawing-room, and this suggested music. Haldane had at his tongue's end the names of half a dozen musicianswhose professional titles had been prominent in the newspapers for a fewmonths previous, and whose merits had formed a part of the currentchit-chat of the day. Some he had heard, and others he had not, but hecould talk volubly of all, and he asked Miss Romeyn for her opinion ofone and another in a manner which implied that of course she knew aboutthem, and that ignorance in regard to such persons was not to beexpected. 

Her face colored with annoyance, but she said quietly and a triflecoldly that she had not heard them. 

Mrs. Arnot again smiled as she watched the young people, but she nowcame to her niece's rescue, thinking also it would be well to disturbHaldane's sense of superiority somewhat. So she said:

"Laura, since we cannot hear this evening the celebrated artists thatMr. Haldane has mentioned, we must content ourselves with simple homemusic. Won't you play for us that last selection of which you wrote tome?"

"I hardly dare, auntie, since Mr. Haldane is such a critical judge, andhas heard so much music from those who make it a business to be perfect. He must have listened to the selection you name a hundred times, for itis familiar to most lovers of good music. "

Haldane had sudden misgivings. Suppose he had not heard it? This wouldbe awkward, after his assumed acquaintance with such matters. 

"Even if Mr. Haldane is familiar with it, " Mrs. Arnot replied, "Steibelt's Storm Rondo will bear repetition. Besides, his criticism maybe helpful, since he can tell you wherein you come short of the skilledprofessionals. "

Laura caught the twinkle in her aunt's eye, and went to the piano. 

The young man saw at once that he had been caught in his own trap, forthe music was utterly unfamiliar. The rondo was no wonderful piece ofintricacy, such as a professional might choose. On the contrary, it wassimple, and quite within the capabilities of a young and well-taughtgirl. But it was full of rich melody which even he, in his ignorance, could understand and appreciate, and yet, for aught that he knew it wasdifficult in the extreme. 

At first he had a decided sense of humiliation, and a consciousness thatit was deserved. He had been talking largely and confidently of an artconcerning which he knew little, and in which he began to think that hislistener was quite well versed. 

But as the thought of the composer grew in power and beauty he forgothimself and his dilemma in his enjoyment. Two senses were findingabundant gratification at the same time, for it was a delight to listen, and it was even a greater pleasure to look at the performer. 

She gave him a quick, shy glance of observation, fearing somewhat thatshe might see severe judgment or else cool indifference in theexpression of his face, and she was naturally pleased and encouragedwhen she saw, instead, undisguised admiration. His previous manner hadannoyed her, and she determined to show him that his superior airs werequite uncalled for. Thus the diffident girl was led to surpass herself, and infuse so much spirit and grace into her playing as to surprise evenher aunt. 

Haldane was soon satisfied that she was more than pretty--that she wasbeautiful. Her features, that had seemed too thin and colorless, flushedwith excitement, and her blue eyes, which he had thought cold andexpressionless, kindled until they became lustrous. He felt, in a waythat he could not define to himself, that her face was full of power andmind, and that she was different from the pretty girls who had hithertobeen his favorites. 

As she rose from the piano he was mastered by one of those impulseswhich often served him in the place of something better, and he saidimpetuously:

"Miss Romeyn, I beg your pardon. You know a hundred-fold more aboutmusic than I do, and I have been talking as if the reverse were true. Inever heard anything so fine in my life, and I also confess that I neverheard that piece before. "

The young girl blushed with pleasure on having thus speedily vanquishedthis superior being, whom she had been learning both to dread anddislike. At the same time his frank, impulsive words of compliment didmuch to remove the prejudice which she was naturally forming againsthim. Mrs. Arnot said, with her mellow laugh, that often accomplishedmore than long homilies:

"That is a manly speech, Egbert, and much to your credit. 'Honestconfession is good for the soul. '"

Haldane did not get on his stilts again that evening, and before it wasover he concluded that Miss Romeyn was the most charming young lady hehad ever met, though, for some reason, she still permitted him to donearly all the talking. She bade him good-night, however, with a smilethat was not unkindly, and which was interpreted by him as beingsingularly gracious. 

By this time he had concluded that Miss Romeyn was a "young lady _parexcellence_"; but it has already been shown that his judgment in mostmatters was not to be trusted. Whether she was a school-girl or a fullyfledged young lady, a child or a woman, might have kept a closerobserver than himself much longer in doubt. In truth, she was scarcelythe one or the other, and had many of the characteristics of both. Hisopinion of her was as incorrect as that of himself. He was not a man, though he considered himself a superior one, and had attained to manlyproportions. 

But there were wide differences in their immaturity. She was formingunder the guidance of a mother who blended firmness and judgment equallywith love. Gentle blood was in her veins, and she had inherited many ofher mother's traits with her beauty. Her parents, however, believedthat, even as the garden of Eden needed to be "dressed and kept, " so thenature of their child required careful pruning, with repression here anddevelopment there. While the young girl was far from being faultless, fine traits and tendencies dominated, and, though as yet undeveloped, they were unfolding with the naturalness and beauty of a budding flower. 

In Haldane's case evil traits were in the ascendant, and the best hopefor him was that they as yet had not become confirmed. 

"Who is this Mr. Haldane, auntie?" Laura asked on reaching her room. There was a slight trace of vexation in her tone. 

"He is the son of an old friend of mine. I have induced my husband totry to give him a business education. You do not like him. "

"I did not like him at all at first, but he improves a little onacquaintance. Is he a fair sample of your young men proteges?"

"He is the least promising of any of them, " replied Mrs. Arnot, sittingdown before the fire. Laura saw that her face had become shadowed withsadness and anxiety. 

"You look troubled, auntie. Is he the cause?"

"Yes. "

"Are you very much interested in him?"

"I am, Laura; very much, indeed. I cannot bear to give him up, and yet Ifear I must. "

"Is he a very interesting 'case'?" asked the young girl in somesurprise. "Mother often laughingly calls the young men you are trying tocoax to be good by your winning ways, 'cases. ' I don't know much aboutyoung men, but should suppose that you had many under treatment muchmore interesting than he is. "

"Sister Fanny is always laughing at my hobby, and saying that, since Ihave no children of my own, I try to adopt every young man who will giveme a chance. Perhaps if I try to carry out your mother's figure, youwill understand why I am so interested in this 'case. ' If I were aphysician and had charge of a good many patients, ought I not to bechiefly interested in those who were in the most critical and dangerouscondition?"

"It would be just like you to be so, auntie, and I would not mind beingquite ill myself if I could have you to take care of me. I hope theyoung men whom you 'adopt' appreciate their privileges. "

"The trouble with most of us, Laura, is that we become wise too late inlife. Young people are often their own worst enemies, and if you wish todo them good, you must do it, as it were, on the sly. If one triesopenly to reform and guide them--if I should say plainly, Such and suchare your faults; such and such places and associations are full ofdanger--they would be angry or disgusted, or they would say I was blueand strait-laced, and had an old woman's notions of what a man shouldbe. I must coax them, as you say; I must disguise my medicines, andapply my remedies almost without their knowing it. I also find it truein my practice that tonics and good wholesome diet are better than allmoral drugs. It seems to me that if I can bring around these giddy youngfellows refining, steadying, purifying influences, I can do them moregood than if I lectured them. The latter is the easier way, and manytake it. It would require but a few minutes to tell this young Haldanewhat his wise safe course must be if he would avoid shipwreck; but I cansee his face flush and lip curl at my homily. And yet for weeks I havebeen angling for him, and I fear to no purpose. Your uncle may dischargehim any day. It makes me very sad to say it, but if he goes home I thinkhe will also go to ruin. Thank God for your good, wise mother, Laura. Itis a great thing to be started right in life. "

"Then this young man has been started wrong?

"Yes, wrong indeed. "

"Is he so very bad, auntie?" Laura asked with a face full of seriousconcern. 

Mrs. Arnot smiled as she said, "If you were a young society chit, youmight think him 'very nice, ' as their slang goes. He is good-looking andrich, and his inclination to be fast would be a piquant fact in hisfavor. He has done things which would seem to you very wrong indeed. Buthe is foolish and ill-trained rather than bad. He is a spoiled boy, andspoiled boys are apt to become spoiled men. I have told you all thispartly because, having been your mother's companion all your life, youare so old-fashioned that I can talk to you almost as I would to sisterFanny, and partly because I like to talk about my hobby. "

A young girl naturally has quick sympathies, and all the influences ofLaura's life had been gentle and humane. Her aunt's words speedily ledher to regard Haldane as an "interesting case, " a sort of fever patientwho was approaching the crisis of his disease. Curling down on thefloor, and leaning her arms on her aunt's lap, she looked up with a facefull of solicitude as she asked:

"And don't you think you can save him? Please don't give up trying. "

"I like the expression of your face now, " said Mrs. Arnot, stroking theabundant tresses, that were falling loosely from the girl's head, "forin it I catch a glimpse of the divine image. Many think of God aslooking down angrily and frowningly upon the foolish and wayward; but Isee in the solicitude of your face a faint reflection of the 'Notwilling that any should perish' which it ever seems to me is theexpression of His. "

"Laura, " said she abruptly, after a moment, "did any one ever tell youthat you were growing up very pretty?"

"No, auntie, " said the girl, blushing and laughing. 

"Mr. Haldane told you so this evening. "

"O auntie, you are mistaken; he could not have been so rude. "

"He did not make a set speech to that effect, my dear, but he told youso by his eyes and manner, only you are such an innocent home child thatyou did not notice. But when you go into society you will be told thisfact so often that you will be compelled to heed it, and will soon learnthe whole language of flattery, spoken and unspoken. Perhaps I had, better forewarn you a little, and so forearm you. What are you going todo with your beauty?"

"Why, auntie, how funny you talk! What should I do with it, grantingthat it has any existence save in your fond eyes?"

"Suppose you use it to make men better, instead of to make them merelyadmire you. One can't be a belle very long at best, and of all thequerulous, discontented, and disagreeable people that I have met, superannuated belles, who could no longer obtain their revenue offlattery, were the worst. They were impoverished, indeed. If you do as Isuggest, you will have much that is pleasant to think about when youcome to be as old as I am. Perhaps you can do more for young Haldanethan I can. "

"Now, auntie, what can I do?"

"That which nearly all women can do: be kind and winning; make our safe, cosey parlor so attractive that he will not go out evenings to placeswhich tend to destroy him. You feel an interest in him; show it. Ask himabout his business, and get him to explain it to you. Suggest that ifyou were a man you would like to master your work, and become eminent init. Show by your manner and by words, if occasion offers, that you loveand revere all that is sacred, pure, and Christian. Laura, innocent doveas you are, you know that many women beguile men to ruin with smiles. Men can be beguiled from ruin with smiles. Indeed, I think multitudesare permitted to go to destruction because women are so unattractive, soabsorbed in themselves and their nerves. If mothers and wives, maidensand old maids, would all commence playing the agreeable to the men oftheir household and circle, not for the sake of a few compliments, butfor the purpose of luring them from evil and making them better, theworld would improve at once. "

"I see, auntie, " said Laura, laughing; "you wish to administer me as asugar-coated pill to your 'difficult case. '"

A deep sigh was the only answer, and, looking up, Laura saw that herwords had not been heeded. Tears were in her aunt's eyes, and after amoment she said brokenly:

"My theories seem true enough, and yet how signally I have failed incarrying them out! Perhaps it is my fault; perhaps it is my fault; butI've tried--oh! how I have tried! Laura, dear, you know that I am alonely woman; but do not let this prejudice you against what I havesaid. Good-night, dear; I have kept you up too long after your journey. "

Her niece understood her allusion to the cold, unloving man who satalone every evening in his dim library, thinking rarely of his wife, butoften of her wealth, and how it might increase his leverage in hisherculean labors. The young girl had the tact to reply only by a warm, lingering embrace. It was an old sorrow, of which she had long beenaware; but it seemed without remedy, and was rarely touched upon. 

CHAPTER V

PASSION'S CLAMOR

Laura had a strong affection for her aunt, and would naturally beinclined to gratify any wishes that she might express, even had theyinvolved tasks uncongenial and unattractive. But the proposal that sheshould become an ally in the effort to lure young Haldane from his evilassociations, and awaken within him pure and refined tastes, wasdecidedly attractive. She was peculiarly romantic in her disposition, and no rude contact with the commonplace, common-sense world hadchastened her innocent fancies by harsh and disagreeable experience. HerChristian training and girlish simplicity lifted her above the ordinaryromanticism of imagining herself the heroine in every instance, and theobject and end of all masculine aspirations. On this occasion she simplydesired to act the part of a humble assistant of Mrs. Arnot, whom sheregarded as Haldane's good angel; and she was quite as disinterested inher hope for the young man's moral improvement as her aunt herself. 

The task, moreover, was doubly pleasing since she could perform it in away that was so womanly and agreeable. She could scarcely have givenHaldane a plain talk on the evils of fast living to save her life, butif she could keep young men from going to destruction by smiling uponthem, by games of backgammon and by music, she felt in the mood to be amissionary all her life, especially if she could have so safe andattractive a field of labor as her aunt's back parlor. 

But the poor child would soon learn that perverse human nature is muchthe same in a drawing-room and a tenement-house, and that all who seekto improve it are doomed to meet much that is excessively annoying anddiscouraging. 

The simple-hearted girl no more foresaw what might result from hersmiles than an ignorant child would anticipate the consequences of firefalling on grains of harmless-looking black sand. She had never seenpassion kindling and flaming till it seemed like a scorching fire, andhad not learned by experience that in some circumstances her smilesmight be like incendiary sparks to powder. 

In seeking to manage her "difficult case, " Mrs. Arnot should haveforeseen the danger of employing such a fascinating young creature asher assistant; but in these matters the wisest often err, and onlycomprehend the evil after it has occurred. Laura was but a child inyears, having passed her fifteenth birthday only a few months previous, and Haldane seemed to the lady scarcely more than a boy. She did notintend that her niece should manifest anything more than a littlewinning kindness and interest, barely enough to keep the young fellowfrom spending his evenings out she knew not where. He was at just theage when the glitter and tinsel of public amusements are mostattractive. She believed that if she could familiarize his mind with thereal gold and clear diamond flash of pure home pleasures, and thosewhich are enjoyed in good society, he would eventually become disgustedwith gilt, varnish, and paste. If Laura had been a very plain girl, shemight have seconded Mrs. Arnot's efforts to the utmost without anyunpleasant results, even if no good ones had followed; and it may wellbe doubted whether any of the latter would have ensued. Haldane'sdisease was too deeply rooted, and his tastes vitiated to such a degreethat he had lost the power to relish long the simple enjoyments of Mrs. Arnot's parlor. He already craved the pleasures which first kindle andexcite and then consume. 

Laura, however, was not plain and ordinary, and the smiles which wereintended as innocent lures from snares, instead of into them, might maketrouble for all concerned. Haldane was naturally combustible, to beginwith, and was now at the most inflammable period of his life. 

The profoundest master of human nature portrayed to the world a Romeoand a Juliet, both mastered by a passion which but a few words andglances had kindled. There are many Romeos who do not find their Julietsso sympathetic and responsive, and they usually develop at about the ageof Haldane. Indeed, nearly all young men of sanguine temperaments gothrough the Romeo stage, and they are fortunate if they pass it withoutdoing anything especially ridiculous or disastrous. These sudden attacksare exceedingly absurd to older and cooler friends, but to the victimsthemselves they are tremendously real and tragic for the time being. More hearts are broken into indefinite fragments before twenty than everafter; but, like the broken bones of the young, they usually knitreadily together again, and are just as good for all practical purposes. 

There was nothing unusual in the fact, therefore, that Haldane was soondeeply enamored with his new acquaintance. It was true that Laura hadgiven him the mildest and most innocent kind of encouragement--and theresult would probably have been the same if she had given him none atall--but his vanity, and what he chose to regard as his "undying love, "interpreted all her actions, and gave volumes of meaning to a kindlyglance or a pleasant word. Indeed, before there had been time to carryout, to any extent, the tactics her aunt had proposed, symptoms of hismalady appeared. While she was regarding him merely as one of her aunt's"cases, " and a very hard one at best, and thought of herself as tryingto help a little, as a child might hold a bandage or a medicine phialfor experienced hands, he, on the contrary, had begun to mutter tohimself that she was "the divinest woman God ever fashioned. "

There was now no trouble about his spending evenings elsewhere, and themaiden was perplexed and annoyed at finding her winning ways far toosuccessful, and that the one she barely hoped to keep from thevague--and to her mind, horrible--places of temptation, was becoming asadhesive as sticking-plaster. If she smiled, he smiled and ogled far toomuch in return. If she chatted with one and another of the young men whofound Mrs. Arnot's parlor the most attractive place open to them in thetown, he would assume a manner designed to be darkly tragical, but whichto the young girl had more the appearance of sulking. 

She was not so much of a child as to be unable to comprehend Haldane'ssymptoms, and she was sufficiently a woman not to be excessively angry. And yet she was greatly annoyed and perplexed. At times his actionseemed so absurd that she was glad to escape to her room, that she mightgive way to her merriment; and again he would appear so much in earnestthat she was quite as inclined to cry and to think seriously of bringingher visit to an abrupt termination. 

While under Mrs. Arnot's eye Haldane was distant and circumspect, butthe moment he was alone with Laura his manner became unmistakablydemonstrative. 

At first she was disposed to tell her aunt all about the young man'ssentimental manner, but the fact that it seemed so ridiculous deterredher. She still regarded herself as a child, and that any one should beseriously in love with her after but a few days' acquaintance seemedabsurdity itself. Her aunt might think her very vain for even imaginingsuch a thing, and, perhaps, after all it was only her own imagination. 

"Mr. Haldane has acted queerly from the first, " she concluded, "and thebest thing I can do is to think no more about him, and let auntie manageher 'difficult case' without me. If I am to help in these matters, I hadbetter commence with a 'case' that is not so 'difficult. '"

She therefore sought to avoid the young man, and prove by her mannerthat she was utterly indifferent to him, hoping that this course wouldspeedily cure him of his folly. She would venture into the parlor onlywhen her aunt or guests were there, and would then try to make herselfgenerally agreeable, without an apparent thought for him. 

While she assured herself that she did not like him, and that he was inno respect a person to be admired and liked, she still found herselfthinking about him quite often. He was her first recognized lover. Indeed, few had found opportunity to give more than admiring glances tothe little nun, who thus far had been secluded almost continuously inthe safest of all cloisters--a country home. It was a decided noveltythat a young man, almost six feet in height, should be lookingunutterable things in her direction whenever she was present. She wishedhe wouldn't, but since he would, she could not help thinking about him, and how she could manage to make him "behave sensibly. "

She did not maintain her air of indifference very perfectly, however, for she had never been schooled by experience, and was acting solely onthe intuitions of her sex. She could not forbear giving a quick glanceoccasionally to see how he was taking his lesson. At times he wasscowling and angry, and then she could maintain her part withoutdifficulty; again he would look so miserable that, out of pity, shewould relent into a half smile, but immediately reproach herself forbeing "so foolish. "

Haldane's manner soon attracted Mrs. Arnot's attention, notwithstandinghis effort to disguise from her his feeling and a little observation onthe part of the experienced matron enabled her to guess how mattersstood. While Mrs. Arnot was perplexed and provoked by this newcomplication in Haldane's case, she was too kindly in her nature not tofeel sorry for him. She was also so well versed in human nature as to beaware that she could not sit down and coolly talk him out of his folly. 

Besides it was not necessarily folly. The youth was but following a lawof nature, and following it, too, in much the same manner as had hisfathers before him since the beginning of time. There would not be anything essentially wrong in an attachment between these young people, ifit sprang up naturally; only it would be necessary to impress upon themthe fact that they were _young_, and that for years to come theirminds should be largely occupied with other matters. Haldane certainlywould not have been her choice for Laura, but if a strong attachmentbecame the means of steadying him and of inciting to the formation of afine character, all might be well in the end. She was morbidly anxious, however, that her niece should not meet with any such disappointment inlife as had fallen to her lot, and should the current of the younggirl's affection tend steadily in his direction she would deeply regretthe fact. 

She would regret exceedingly, also, to have the young girl's mindoccupied by thoughts of such a nature for years to come. Her educationwas unfinished; she was very immature, and should not make so importanta choice until she had seen much more of society, and time had beengiven for the formation of her tastes and character. 

Mrs. Arnot soon concluded that it would be wiser to prevent trouble thanto remedy it, and that Laura had better return speedily to the safeasylum of her own home. She could then suggest to Haldane that if hehoped to win the maiden in after years he must form a character worthyof her. 

Had she carried out her plan that day all might have turned outdifferently, but the advanced in life are prone to forget theimpetuosity of youth. Haldane was already ripe for a declaration, or, more properly, an explosion of his pent-up feelings, and was onlyawaiting an opportunity to insist upon his own acceptance. He was sopossessed and absorbed by his emotions that he felt sure they wouldsweep away all obstacles. He imagined himself pleading his cause in away that would melt a marble heart; and both vanity and hope hadwhispered that Laura was a shy maiden, secretly responsive to hispassion, and only awaiting his frank avowal before showing her ownheart. Else why had she been so kind at first? Having won his love, wasshe not seeking now to goad him on to its utterance by a sudden changeof manner?

Thus he reasoned, as have many others equally blind. 

On becoming aware of Haldane's passion, Mrs. Arnot resolved tosedulously guard her niece, and prevent any premature and disagreeablescenes. She was not long in discovering that the feeling, as yet, wasall on the young man's side, and believed that by a little adroitnessshe could manage the affair so that no harm would result to eitherparty. 

But on the day following the one during which she had arrived at theabove conclusions she felt quite indisposed, and while at dinner wasobliged to succumb to one of her nervous headaches. Before retiring toher private room she directed the waitress to say to such of her youngfriends as might call that she was too ill to see them. 

Haldane's expressions of sympathy were hollow, indeed, for he hopedthat, as a result of her indisposition, he would have Laura all tohimself that evening. With an insinuating smile he said to the younggirl, after her aunt had left the table:

"I shall expect you to be very agreeable this evening, to compensate mefor Mrs. Arnot's absence. "

Laura blushed vividly, and was provoked with herself that she did so, but she replied quietly:

"You must excuse me this evening, Mr. Haldane; I am sure my aunt willneed me. "

His smile was succeeded by a sudden frown; but, as Mr. Arnot was at thetable, he said, with assumed carelessness:

"Then I will go out and try to find amusement elsewhere. "

"It might be well, young man, " said Mr. Arnot austerely, "to seek forsomething else than amusement. When I was at your age I so invested myevenings that they now tell in my business. "

"I am willing to invest this evening in a way to make it tell upon myfuture, " replied Haldane, with a meaning glance at Laura. 

Mr. Arnot observed this glance and the blushing face of his niece, anddrew his own conclusions; but he only said dryly:

"That remark is about as inexplicable as some of your performances atthe office of late. "

Laura soon after excused herself and sought a refuge in her aunt's room, which, being darkened, prevented the lady from seeing her burning cheeksand general air of vexation and disquiet. Were it not for Mrs. Arnot'ssuffering condition and need of rest, Laura would then have told her ofher trouble and asked permission to return home, and she determined todo this at the first opportunity. Now, however, she unselfishly forgotherself in her effort to alleviate her aunt's distress. With a strongsense of relief she heard Haldane go out, slamming the front door afterhim. 

"Was there ever such an absurd fellow!" thought she; "he has madehimself disagreeable ever since I came, with his superior airs, as if heknew everything, when, in fact, he doesn't know anything well, not evengood manners. He acts as if I belonged to him and had no right to anywill or wishes of my own. If he can't take the hints that I have givenhe must be as stupid and blind as an owl. In spite of all that I can door say he seems to think that I only want an opportunity to show thesame ridiculous feeling that makes him appear like a simpleton. If Iwere a young lady in society I should detest a man who took it forgranted that I would fall in love with him. "

With like indignant musings she beguiled the time, wonderingoccasionally why her aunt did not ask her to go down and entertain theobject of her dread, but secretly thankful that she did not. 

At last Mrs. Arnot said:

"Mr. Haldane went out, did he not?"

"Yes, auntie, some time ago. "

"I left my other bottle of smelling-salts in the parlor. I think it isstronger than this. Would you mind getting it for me? It's on themantel. "

Laura had no difficulty in finding it in the somewhat dimly-lighteddrawing-room, but as she turned to leave the apartment she saw Haldanebetween her and the door. 

Before he had reached any of his garish haunts he had felt such an utterdistaste for them in his present mood that he returned. He was consciousof the impulse merely to be near the object of his thoughts, and alsohoped that by some fortunate chance he might still be able to find heralone. That his return might be unnoted, he had quietly entered a sidedoor, and was waiting and watching for just such an opportunity as Mrs. Arnot had unwittingly occasioned. 

Laura tried to brush past, but he intercepted her, and said:

"No, Miss Laura, not till you hear me. You have my destiny in yourhands. "

"I haven't anything of the kind, " she answered, in tones of strongvexation. Guided by instinct, she resolved to be as prosaic andmatter-of-fact as possible; so she added: "I have only aunt'ssmelling-salts in my hands, and she needs them. "

"I need _you_ far more than Mrs. Arnot needs her smelling-salts, "he said tragically. 

"Mr. Haldane, such talk is very absurd, " she replied, half ready to cryfrom nervousness and annoyance. 

"It is not absurd. How can you trifle with the deepest and holiestfeelings that a man--of which a man--feels?" he retorted passionately, and growing a little incoherent. 

"I don't know anything about such feelings, and therefore cannot triflewith them. "

"What did your blushes mean this evening? You cannot deceive me; I haveseen the world and know it. "

"I am not the world. I am only a school-girl, and if you had good senseyou would not talk so to me. You appear to think that I must feel and doas you wish. What right have you to act so?"

"The truest and strongest right. You know well that I love you with mywhole soul. I have given you my heart--all there is of me. Have I not aright to ask your love in return?"

Laura was conscious of a strange thrill as she heard these passionatewords, for they appeared to echo in a depth of her nature of which shehad not been conscious before. 

The strong and undoubting assurance which possessed him carried for amoment a strange mastery over her mind. As he so vehemently asserted theonly claim which a man can urge, her woman's soul trembled, and for amoment she felt almost powerless to resist. His unreserved givingappeared to require that he should receive also. She would have soonrealized, however, that Haldane's attitude was essentially that of anOriental lover, who, in his strongest attachments, is ever prone tomaintain the imperative mood, and to consult his own heart rather thanthat of the woman he loves. While in Laura's nature there was unusualgentleness and a tendency to respect and admire virile force, she wastoo highly bred in our Western civilization not to resent as an insultany such manifestation of this force as would make the quest of her lovea demand rather than a suit, after once recognizing such a spirit. Shewas now confused, however, and after an awkward moment said:

"I have not asked or wished you to give me so much. I don't think yourealize what you are saying. If you would only remember that I amscarcely more than a child you would not talk so foolishly. Please letme go to my aunt. "

"No, not till you give me some hope. Your blushes prove that you are awoman. "

"They prove that I am excessively annoyed and vexed. "

"Oh, Laura, after raising so many hopes you cannot--you cannot----"

"I haven't meant to raise any hopes. "

"Why were you so kind to me at first?"

"Well, if you must know, my aunt wished me to be. If I had dreamed youwould act so I would not have spoken to you. "

"What motive could Mrs. Arnot have had for such a request?"

"I will tell you, and when you know the whole truth you will see howmistaken you are, and how greatly you wrong me. Aunt wanted me to helpher keep you home evenings, and away from all sorts of horrid places towhich you were fond of going. "

These words gave Haldane a cue which he at once followed, and he saideagerly:

"If you will be my wife, I will do anything you wish. I will make myselfgood, great, and renowned for your sake. Your smiles will keep me fromevery temptation. But I warn you that if you cast me off--if you triflewith me--I shall become a reckless man. I shall be ruined. My onlyimpulse will be self-destruction. "

Laura was now thoroughly incensed, and she said indignantly:

"Mr. Haldane, I should think you would be ashamed to talk in thatmanner. It's the same as if a spoiled boy should say: If you don't giveme what I wish, right or wrong, I will do something dreadful. If I everdo love a man, it will be one that I can look up to and respect, and notone who must be coaxed and bribed to give up disgusting vices. If you donot open that door I will call uncle. "

The door opened, and Mr. Arnot entered with a heavy frown upon his brow. 

CHAPTER VI

"GLOOMY GRANDEUR"

Mr. Arnot's library was on the side of the hall opposite to thedrawing-room. Though he had been deeply intent upon his writing, he atlast became conscious that there were some persons in the parlor whowere talking in an unusual manner, and he soon distinguished the voiceof his niece. Haldane's words, manner, and glances at the dinner-tableat once recurred to him, and stepping silently to the drawing-room door, he heard the latter part of the colloquy narrated in the previouschapter. He was both amused and angry, and while relieved to find thathis niece was indulging in no "sentimental nonsense, " he had not aparticle of sympathy or charity for Haldane, and he determined to givethe young man a "lesson that would not soon be forgotten. "

"What is the meaning of this ridiculous scene?" he demanded sternly. "What have you been saying to this child?"

Haldane at first had been much abashed by the entrance of his employer;but his tone and manner stung the young fellow into instant anger, andhe replied haughtily:

"She is not a child, and what I have said concerns Miss Romeyn only. "

"Ah, indeed! I have no right to protect my niece in my own house!"

"My intentions toward Miss Romeyn are entirely honorable, and there isno occasion for protection. "

Reassured by her uncle's presence, Laura's nervous apprehension began togive place to something like pity for the youth, who had assumed anattitude befitting high tragedy, and toward whom she felt that she hadbeen a little harsh. Now that he was confronted by one who was disposedto be still more harsh, womanlike, she was inclined to take his part. She would be sorry to have him come to an open rupture with his employeron her account, so she said eagerly:

"Please, uncle, do me the favor of letting the whole matter drop. Mr. Haldane has seen his mistake by this time. I am going home to-morrow, and the affair is too absurd to make any one any more trouble. "

Before he could answer, Mrs. Arnot, hearing their voices, and surmisingthe trouble which she had hoped to prevent, now appeared also, and byher good sense and tact brought the disagreeable scene to a speedyclose. 

"Laura, my dear, " she said quietly, "go up to my room, and I will joinyou there soon. " The young girl gladly obeyed. 

There were times when Mrs. Arnot controlled her strong-willed husband ina manner that seemed scarcely to be reconciled with his dictatorialhabits. This fact might be explained in part by her wealth, of which hehad the use, but which she still controlled, but more truly by herinnate superiority, which ever gives supremacy to the nobler andstronger mind when aroused. 

Mr. Arnot had become suddenly and vindictively angry with his clerk, who, instead of being overwhelmed with awe and shame at his unexpectedappearance, was haughty and even defiant. One of the strongest impulsesof this man was to crush out of those in his employ a spirit ofindependence and individual self-assertion. The idea of a part of hisbusiness machinery making such a jarring tumult in his own house! Heproposed to instantly cast away the cause of friction, and insert a morestolid human cog-wheel in Haldane's place. 

But when his wife said, in a tone which she rarely used:

"Mr. Arnot, before anything further is said upon this matter, I wouldlike to see you in your library"--he followed her without a word. 

Before the library door closed, however, he could not forbear snarling. 

"I told you that your having this big spoiled boy as an inmate of thehouse would not work well. "

"He has been offering himself to Laura, has he not?" she said quietly. 

"I suppose that is the way in which you would explain his absurd, maudlin words. A pitiful offer it was, which she, like a sensible girl, declined without thanks. "

"What course do you propose to take toward Haldane?"

"I was on the point of sending him home to his mother, and of suggestingthat he remain with her till he becomes something more than a fast, foolish boy. As yet I see no reason for acting differently. "

"On just what grounds do you propose to discharge him?"

"Has he not given sufficient cause this evening in his persecution ofLaura and his impudence to me?"

"Thomas, you forget that while young Haldane is your clerk, he enjoys asocial position quite equal to that which a son of ours would possess, did we have one. Though his course toward Laura has been crude andboyish, I have yet to learn that there has been anything dishonorable. Laura is to us a child; to him she seems a very pretty and attractivegirl, and his sudden passion for her is, perhaps, one of the mostnatural things in the world. Besides, an affair of this kind should bemanaged quietly and wisely, and not with answering passion. You areangry now; you will see that I am right in the morning. At all events, the name of this innocent girl, my sister's child, must not be bandiedabout in the gossip of the town. Among young men Haldane passes for ayoung man. Do you wish to have it the town talk that he has beendischarged because he ventured to compliment your niece with the offerof his hand? That he has been premature and rash is chiefly the fault ofhis years and temperament; but no serious trouble need follow unless wemake it ourselves. Laura will return home in a day or two, and if theyoung fellow is dealt with wisely and kindly, this episode may do muchtoward making a sensible man of him. If you abruptly discharge him, people will imagine tenfold more than has occurred, and they may surmisepositive evil. "

"Well, well, have it your own way, " said her husband impatiently. "Ofcourse, I do not wish that Laura should become the theme of scandal. Butas for this young firebrand of a Haldane, there must be a decided changein him. I cannot bother with him much longer. "

"I think I can manage him. At any rate, please make no change that canseem connected with this affair. If you would also exercise a littlekindness and forbearance, I do not think you would ever have cause toregret it. "

"My office is not an asylum for incapables, lovesick swains, and fastboys. It's a place of business, and if young Haldane can't realize this, there are plenty who can. "

"As a favor to me, I will ask you to bear with him as long as possible. Can you not send him to your factory near New York on some errand? Newscenes will divert his thoughts, and sudden and acute attacks, like his, usually do not last very long. "

"Well, well, I'll see. "

Mrs. Arnot returned to the parlor, but Haldane was no longer there. Shewent to his room, but, though he was within, she could obtain noresponse to her knocking, or to the kind tone in which she spoke hisname. She sighed, but thought that perhaps he would be calmer and moreopen to reason on the morrow, and, therefore, returned to her ownapartment. Indeed, she was glad to do so, for in her ill and sufferingcondition the strain had already been too great. 

She found Laura tearful and troubled, and could not do less than listento her story. 

"Do you think I have done anything wrong, auntie?" asked the girl indeep anxiety. 

"No, dear, I think you have acted very sensibly. I wish I could haveforeseen the trouble sooner, and saved you both from a disagreeableexperience. "

"But uncle won't discharge Mr. Haldane on my account, will he?" shecontinued with almost equal solicitude. 

"Certainly not. Egbert has not done anything that should cause hisdismissal. I think that the only result will be to teach you both thatthese are matters which should be left to future years. "

"I'm glad they are distant, for I had no idea that love affairs were sointensely disagreeable. "

Her aunt smiled, and after a little time the young girl departed to herrest quite comforted and reassured. 

The next morning Mrs. Arnot was too ill to appear at breakfast, and herniece would not venture down alone. Haldane and his employer sat downtogether in grim silence, and, after a cup of coffee only, the formerabruptly excused himself and went to the office. 

As might have been expected, the young man had passed a restless night, during which all sorts of rash, wild purposes surged through his mind. At first he meditated hiding his grief and humiliation in some "fardistant clime"; but the thought occurred to him after a little time thatthis would be spiting himself more than any one else. His next impulsewas to leave the house of his "insulting employer" forever; but as hewas about to depart, he remembered that he happened to have scarcely adollar in his pocket, and therefore concluded to wait till he had drawnhis pay, or could write to his mother for funds. Then, as his angersubsided, a sense of loss and disappointment overwhelmed him, and for along time he sobbed like a brokenhearted child. After this naturalexpression of grief he felt better, and became able to thinkconnectedly. He finally resolved that he would become "famous, " and risein "gloomy grandeur" till he towered far above his fellow men. He wouldpierce this obdurate maiden's heart with poignant but unavailing regretthat she had missed the one great opportunity of her life. He gave butslight and vague consideration to the methods by which he would achievethe renown which would overshadow Laura's life; but, having resolutelyadopted the purpose with a few tragic gestures and some obscurefragmentary utterances, he felt consoled and was able to obtain a littlesleep. 

The routine duties at the office on the following day did not promisevery much, but he went through them in a kind of grim, vindictivemanner, as if resolving to set his foot on all obstacles. He would"suffer in silence and give no sign" till the hour came when he couldflash out upon the world. But as the day declined, he found the _role_of "gloomy grandeur" rather heavy, and he became conscious of the factthat he had scarcely eaten anything for nearly twenty-four hours. Another impulse began to make itself felt--that of fulfilling histhreat and torturing Miss Romeyn by going to ruin. With alluringseductiveness the thought insinuated itself into his mind that one ofthe first steps in the tragedy might be a game and wine supper, and hisgrowing hunger made this mode of revenge more attractive than cold andaustere ambition. 

But Laura's words concerning "disgusting vices" recurred to him with alland more than their first stinging plainness, and he put the impulseaway with a gesture and tragic expression of face that struck a sere andwithered bookkeeper, who happened at that moment to look up, as so queerthat he feared the young man was becoming demented. 

Haldane concluded--and with some reason in view of Laura's romanticnature--that only a career of gloomy grandeur and high renown wouldimpress the maiden whom yesterday he proposed to make happy forever, butto-day to blight with regret like a "worm i' the bud. " He already had avague presentiment that such a _role_ would often mortify his tastes andinclinations most dismally; and yet, what had he henceforth to do withpleasure? But if, after he had practiced the austerity of an anchorite, she should forget him, marry another, and be happy! The thought wasexcruciating. O, that awful "another"! He is the fiend that dragsdisappointed lovers down to the lowest depth of their tortures. If Laurahad had a previous favorite, Haldane would have been most happy to haveher meet "another" in himself; but now this vague but surely comingrival of the future sent alternately cold chills and molten fire throughhis veins. 

He was awakened from such painful reveries by a summons to hisemployer's private office. 

CHAPTER VII

BIRDS OF PREY

Mr. Arnot in his widely extended business owned several factories, andin the vicinity of one, located at a suburb of New York, there were nobanking facilities. It was, therefore, his custom at stated times todraw from his bank at Hillaton such amounts in currency as were neededto pay those in his employ at the place indicated, and send the moneythither by one of his clerks. Upon the present occasion, in compliancewith his wife's request, he decided to send Haldane. He had nohesitation in doing this, as the errand was one that required nothingmore than honesty and a little prudence. 

"Mr. Haldane, " said his employer, in tones somewhat less cold and formalthan those habitual with him, "we will let bygones be bygones. I aminclined to think that hereafter you will be disposed to give yourthoughts more fully to business, as a man should who proposes to amountto anything in the world. In these envelopes are one thousand dollars incurrency. I wish you to place them securely in your breast-pockets, andtake the five-thirty train to New York, and from thence early to-morrowgo out on the Long Island road to a little station called Arnotville, and give these packages to Mr. Black, the agent in charge of my factorythere. Take his receipt, and report to me to-morrow evening. With thatamount of money upon your person you will perceive the necessity ofprudence and care. Here is a check paying your salary for the pastmonth. The cashier will give you currency for it. Report your expenseson your return, and they will be paid. As the time is limited, perhapsyou can get some lunch at or near the depot. "

"I prefer to do so, " said Haldane, promptly, "and will try to performthe business to your satisfaction. "

Mr. Arnot nodded a cool dismissal, and Haldane started for ahotel-restaurant near the depot with a step entirely too quick andelastic for one who must walk henceforth in the shadow of "bittermemories and dark disappointment. " The exercise brought color to hischeek, and there certainly was a sparkle in his dark eyes. It could notbe hope, for he had assured himself again and again that "hope was deadin his heart. " It might have been caused after his long fast by theanticipation of a lunch at the depot and a _petit souper_ in thecity, and the thought of washing both down with a glass of wine, orpossibly with several. The relish and complacency with which his minddwelt on this prospect struck Haldane as rather incongruous in a beingas blighted as he supposed himself to be. With his youth, health, andunusually good digestion he would find no little difficulty in carryingout the "gloomy grandeur" scheme, and he began to grow conscious of thefact. 

Indeed, in response to a law of nature, he was already inclined to reactfrom his unwonted depression into reckless hilarity. Impulse andinclination were his controlling forces, and he was accustomed to givehimself up to them without much effort at self-restraint. And yet hesought to imagine himself consistent, so that he could maintain hisself-approval. 

"I will hide my despair with laughter, " he muttered; "the world cannotknow that it is hollow, and but a mask against its vulgar curiosity. "

A good cold lunch and a cup of coffee--which he could have obtained atonce at the hotel near the depot--would not answer for this victim ofdespair. Some extra delicacies, which required time for preparation, were ordered. In the meantime he went to the bar for an "appetizer, " ashe termed it. Here he met an acquaintance among the loungers present, and, of course, asked him to take a social glass also. This personagecomplied in a manner peculiarly felicitous, and in such a way as to givethe impression that his acceptance of the courtesy was a compliment toHaldane. Much practice had made him perfect in this art, and the numberof drinks that he was able to secure gratis in the course of a year bybeing always on hand and by maintaining an air of slight superiority, combined with an appearance of _bonhomie_ and readiness to be social, would have made a remarkable sum total. 

Before their glasses clinked together he said, with the off-handedcourtesy indigenous to bar-rooms, where acquaintances are made with solittle trouble and ceremony:

"Mr. Haldane, my friends from New York, Mr. Van Wink and Mr. Ketchem. "

Haldane turned and saw two young men standing conveniently near, whowere dressed faultlessly in the style of the day. There was nothing intheir appearance to indicate that they did not reside on Fifth Avenue, and, indeed, they may have had rooms on that fashionable street. 

Messrs. Van Wink and Ketchem had also a certain air of superiority, andthey shook hands with Haldane in a way that implied:

"While we are metropolitan men, we recognize in you an extraordinarilyfine specimen of the provincial. " And the young man was not indifferentto their unspoken flattery. He at once invited them also to state to thesmirking bartender their preferences among the liquid compounds beforethem, and soon four glasses clinked together. 

With fine and thoughtful courtesy they had chosen the same mixture thathe had ordered for himself, and surely some of the milk of humankindness must have been infused in the punches which they imbibed, forMessrs. Van Wink and Ketchem seemed to grow very friendly towardHaldane. Perhaps taking a drink with a man inspired these worthies witha regard for him similar to that which the social eating of breadcreates within the breasts of Bedouins, who, as travellers assert, willprotect with their lives a stranger that has sat at their board; but roband murder, as a matter of course, all who have not enjoyed thatdistinction. Whatever may have been the cause, the stylish men from thecity were evidently pleased with Haldane, and they delicately suggestedthat he was such an unusually clever fellow that they were willing toknow him better. 

"I assure you, Mr. Haldane, " protested Mr. Van Wink, "our meeting is anunexpected pleasure. Having completed our business in town, time washanging heavily on our hands, and it is still a full half-hour beforethe train leaves. "

"Let us drink again to further acquaintance, " said Mr. Ketchemcordially, evincing a decided disposition to be friendly; "Mr. Haldaneis in New York occasionally, and we would be glad to meet him and helphim pass a pleasant hour there, as he is enlivening the present hour forus. "

Haldane was not cautious by nature, and had been predisposed by trainingto regard all flattering attention and interest as due to the favorableimpression which he supposed himself to make invariably upon those whosejudgment was worth anything. It is true there had been one marked andhumiliating exception. But the consoling thought now flashed into hismind that, perhaps, Miss Romeyn was, as she asserted, but a mere"child, " and incapable of appreciating him. The influence of the punchhe had drank and the immediate and friendly interest manifested by thesegentlemen who knew the world, gave a plausible coloring to thisexplanation of her conduct. After all, was he not judging her tooharshly? She had not realized whom she had refused, and when she grew upin mind as well as in form she might be glad to act very differently. "But I may choose to act differently also, " was his haughty mentalconclusion. 

This self-communion took place while the still smirking bartender wasmixing the decoctions ordered by the cordial and generous Mr. Ketchem. Amoment later four glasses clinked together, and Haldane's firstacquaintance--the young man with the air of slight but urbanesuperiority--felicitated himself that he had "made two free drinks"within a brief space of time. 

The effect of the liquor upon Haldane after his long fast was fargreater than if it had been taken after a hearty meal, and he began toreciprocate the friendliness of the strangers with increasing interest. 

"Gentlemen, " said he, "our meeting is one of those fortunate incidentswhich promise much more pleasure to come. I have ordered a little lunchin the dining-room. It will take but a moment for the waiters to addenough for three more, and then we will ride into the city together, formy business takes me there this evening also. "

"I declare, " exclaimed Mr. Van Wink in a tone of self-gratulation, "wereI piously inclined I should be tempted to call our meeting quiteprovidential. But if we lunch with you it must be on condition that youtake a little supper with us at the Brunswick after we arrive in town. "

"No one could object to such agreeable terms, " cried Haldane; "come, letus adjourn to the dining-room. By the way, Mr. Bartender, send us abottle of your best claret. "

The young man who an hour before had regarded himself as cruellyblighted for life, was quite successful in "hiding his despair withlaughter. " Indeed, from its loudness and frequency, undue exhilarationwas suggested rather than a "secret sorrow. " It gave him a fine sense ofpower and of his manly estate to see the waiters bustling around at hisbidding, and to remember that he was the host of three gentlemen, who, while very superior in style, and evidently possessed of wealth, stillrecognized in him an equal with whom they were glad to spend a socialhour. 

Scarcely ever before had he met any one who appreciated him as fully asdid Messrs. Van Wink and Ketchem, and their courteous deferenceconfirmed a view which he had long held, that only in the large sphereof the metropolis could he find his true level and most congenialcompanionships. These young men had a style about them which provincialscould not imitate. Even the superior gentleman who introduced them tohim had a slightly dimmed and tarnished appearance as he sat beside hisfriends. There was an immaculate finish and newness about all theirappointments--not a speck upon their linen, nor a grain of dust upontheir broadcloth and polished boots. If the theory be true thatcharacter is shown in dress, these men, outwardly so spotless, must beworthy of the confidence with which they had inspired their newacquaintance. They suggested two bright coins just struck from the mint, and "They have the ring of true metal, " thought Haldane. 

It seemed to the young men that they had just fairly commenced to enjoytheir lunch, when a prolonged shriek of a locomotive, dying away in thedistance, awakened them to a sense of the flight of time. Hastilypulling out his watch, Haldane exclaimed with an oath:

"There goes our train. "

Messrs. Van Wink and Ketchem were apparently much concerned. 

"Haldane, " they exclaimed, "you are much too entertaining a fellow forone to meet when there's a train to be caught. "

"This is a serious matter for me, " said Haldane, somewhat sobered by thethought of Mr. Arnot's wrath; "I had important business in town. "

"Can it not be arranged by telegraph?" asked Mr. Van Wink in a tone ofkindly solicitude. 

"One can't send money by telegraph. No; I must go myself. "

The eyes of Haldane's three guests met for a second in a way thatindicated the confirmnation of something in their minds, and yet soevanescent was this glance of intelligence that a cool, close observerwould scarcely have detected it, much less their flushed and excitedhost. 

"Don't worry, Haldane, " said his first acquaintance; "there is anowl-train along at eleven to-night, and you can mail your check or drafton that if you do not care to travel at such an unearthly hour. "

"Oh, there is a late train!" cried the young man, much relieved. "ThenI'm all right. I am obliged to go myself, as the funds I carry are insuch a shape that I cannot mail them. "

Again the eyes of his guests met with a furtive gleam of satisfaction. 

Now that Haldane felt himself safely out of his dilemma, he began to besolicitous about his companions. 

"I fear, " he said, "that my poor courtesy can make but small amends forthe loss of your train. "

"Well, Haldane, " said Mr. Ketchem, with great apparent candor, "I speakfor myself when I say that I would regret losing this train under mostcircumstances, but with the prospect of a social evening together I canscarcely say that I do. "

"I, too, " cried Mr. Van Wink, "am inclined to regard our loss of thetrain as a happy freak of fortune. Let us take the owl-train, also, Ketchem, and make a jovial night of it with Mr. Haldane. "

"Fill up your glasses, and we'll drink to a jolly night, " cried Haldane, and all complied with wonderful zest and unanimity. The host, however, was too excited and preoccupied to note that while Mr. Van Wink and Mr. Ketchem were always ready to have their glasses filled, they neverdrained them very low; and thus it happened that he and the slightlysuperior gentleman who made free drinks one of the chief objects ofexistence shared most of the bottle of wine between them. 

As the young men rose from the lunch table Haldane called thisindividual aside, and said:

"Harker, I want you to help a fellow out of a scrape. You must know thatI was expected to leave town on the five-thirty train. I do not care tobe seen in the public rooms, for old cast-iron Arnot might make a rowabout my delay, even though it will make no difference in his business. Please engage a private room, where we can have a bottle of wine and aquiet game of cards, and no one be the wiser. "

"Certainly--nothing easier in the world--I know just theroom--cosey--off one side--wait a moment, gentlemen. "

It seemed but a moment before he returned and led them, preceded by abell-boy, to just such an apartment as he had described. Though theevening was mild, a fire was lighted in the grate, and as it kindled itcombined with the other appointments to give the apartment an air ofluxurious comfort. 

"Bring us a bottle of sherry, " said Haldane to the bell-boy. 

"Also a pack of cards, some fine old brandy and cigars, and charge tome, " said Mr. Ketchem; "I wish to have my part in this entertainment. Come, Harker, take a seat. "

"Desperately sorry I can't spend the evening with you, " said thissagacious personage, who realized with extreme regret that not even forthe prospect of unlimited free potations could he afford to risk theloss of his eminent respectability, which he regarded as a capitalistdoes his principal, something that must be drawn upon charily. Mr. Harker knew that his mission was ended, and, in spite of the order forthe sherry and brandy, he had sufficient strength of mind to retire. Indelicate business transactions like the one under consideration he madeit a point to have another engagement when matters got about as faralong as they now were in Haldane's case. If anything unpleasantoccurred between parties whom he introduced to each other, and he wassummoned as a witness, he grew so exceedingly dignified and superior inhis bearing that every one felt like asking his pardon for theirsuspicions. He always proved an _alibi_, and left the court-roomwith the air of an injured man. As people, however, became familiar withhis haunts and habits, there was an increasing number who regarded hisvirtuous assumptions and professions of ignorance in respect to certaincases of swindling with incredulous smiles. 

Mr. Barker, however, could not tear himself away till the brandy andsherry appeared, and, after paying his respects to both, went to keephis engagement, which consisted in lounging about another hotel on theother side of the depot. 

Messrs. Van Wink and Ketchem, of course, both knew how to deal thecards, and with apologetic laughter the young men put up small stakes atfirst, just to give zest to the amusement. Haldane lost the first game, won the second and third, lost again, had streaks of good and bad luckso skilfully intermingled that the thought often occurred to him:

"These fellows play as fair a game as I ever saw and know how to win andlose money like gentlemen. "

But these high-toned "gentlemen" always managed to keep the bottle ofsherry near him, and when they lost they would good-naturedly andhilariously propose that they take a drink. Haldane always complied, butwhile he drank they only sipped. 

As the evening waned the excitement of the infatuated youth deepened. The heat of the room and the fumes of tobacco combined with the liquorto unman him and intensify the natural recklessness of his character. 

There is, probably, no abnormal passion that so completely masters itsvictims as that for gambling; and as Haldane won, lost, and won again, he became so absorbed as to be unconscious of the flight of time and allthings else. But as he lost self-control, as he half-unconsciously puthis glass to his lips with increasing frequency, his companions grewcooler and more wary. Their eyes no longer beamed good-naturedly upontheir victim, but began to emit the eager, cruel gleams of some bird ofprey. 

But they still managed the affair with consummate skill. Their aim wasto excite Haldane to the last degree of recklessness, and yet keep himsufficiently sober for further playing. From Harker they had learnedthat Mr. Arnot had probably sent him in the place of the clerk usuallyemployed; and, if so, it was quite certain that he had a large sum ofmoney upon his person. Haldane's words on becoming aware that he hadmissed his train confirmed their surmises, and it was now their objectto beguile him into a condition which would make him capable of riskinghis employer's funds. They also wished that he should remainsufficiently sober to be responsible for this act, and to remember, ashe recalled the circumstances, that it was his own act. Therefore theykept the brandy beyond his reach; that was not yet needed. 

By the time the evening was half over, Haldane found that, although hehad apparently won considerable money, he had lost more, and that not apenny of his own funds remained. With an angry oath he stated the factto his companions. 

"That's unfortunate, " said Mr. Ketchem, sympathetically. "There arenearly two hours yet before the train leaves, and with your dispositiontoward good luck tonight you could clean us out by that time, and wouldhave to lend us enough to pay our fares to New York. "

"It's a pity to give up our sport now that we have just got warmed up toit, " added Mr. Van Wink, suggestively. "Haven't you some funds about youthat you can borrow for the evening--just enough to keep the game going, you know?"

Haldane hesitated. He was not so far gone but that conscience entered anemphatic protest. The trouble was, however, that he had never formed thehabit of obeying conscience, even when perfectly sober. Anotherinfluence of the past also proved most disastrous. His mother's weaknessnow made him weak. In permitting him to take her money without asking, she had undermined the instinct of integrity which in this giddy momentof temptation might have saved him. If he from childhood had been taughtthat the property of others was sacred, the very gravity of the crime towhich he now was urged would have sobered and awakened him to hisdanger. But his sense of wrong in this had been blunted, and there wasno very strong repugnance toward the suggestion. 

Moreover, his brain was confused and excited to the last degree possiblein one who still continued sane and responsible. Indeed, it would bedifficult to say how far he was responsible at this supreme moment ofdanger. He certainly had drank so much as to be unable to realize theconsequences of his action. 

After a moment's hesitation, like one who feebly tries to brace himselfin a swift torrent, the gambler's passion surged up against and over hisfeeble will--then swept him down. 

CHAPTER VIII

THEIR VICTIM

Haldane drew an envelope from his breast-pocket, and laid it on thetable, saying with a reckless laugh:

"Well, well, as you say, there is no great harm in borrowing a little ofthis money, and returning it again before the evening is over. The onlyquestion is how to open this package, for if torn it may requireexplanations that I do not care to make. "

"We can easily manage that, " laughed Ketchem; "put the package in yourpocket a few moments, " and he rang the bell. 

To the boy who appeared he said, "Bring us three hot whiskeypunches--hot, remember; steaming hot. "

He soon reappeared with the punch, and the door was locked again. 

"Hold your package over the steam of your punch, and the gum willdissolve so that you can open and close it in a way that will defydetection. "

The suggestion was speedily carried out. 

"Now, " continued Mr. Ketchem, "the punch having already served soexcellent a turn, we will finish it by drinking to your good luck. "

Haldane won the first two games. This success, together with the liquor, which was strong, almost wholly dethroned his reason, and in his mad, drunken excitement he began to stake large sums. The eyes of hiscompanions grew more wolfish than ever, and, after a significant flashtoward each other, the gamblers turned fortune against their victimfinally. The brandy was now placed within his reach, and under itsinfluence Haldane threw down money at random. The first package was soonemptied. He snatched the other from his pocket and tore it open, butbefore its contents had likewise disappeared his head drooped upon hisbreast, and he became insensible. 

They watched him a moment, smiled grimly at each other, drew a longbreath of relief, and, rising, stretched themselves like men who hadbeen under a strain that had taxed them severely. 

"Half an hour yet, " said Mr. Van Wink; "wish the time was up. "

"This is a heavy swag if we get off safely with it. I say, Haldane, wakeup. "

But Haldane was sunk in the deepest stupor. 

"I guess it's safe enough, " said Van Wink, answering Ketchem'squestioning eyes. 

The latter thereupon completely emptied the remaining package of money, and replaced the two empty envelopes in Haldane's breast-pocket, andbuttoned up his coat. 

With mutual glances of exultation at the largeness of the sum, theyswiftly divided the spoil between them. It was agreed that after leavingthe hotel they should separate, that one should go to Boston, the otherto Baltimore, and that they should return to their old haunts in NewYork after the interest caused by the affair had died out. Then, lighting cigars, they coolly sat down to wait for the train, havingfirst opened a window and placed Haldane where the fresh air would blowupon him. 

When the time of departure approached, Mr. Van Wink went to the bar andpaid both their own and Haldane's bill, saying that they would nowvacate the room. On his return Ketchem had so far aroused Haldane thathe was able to leave the house with their assistance, and yet sointoxicated as to be incapable of thinking and acting for himself. Theytook him down a side street, now utterly deserted, and left him on thesteps of a low groggery, from whence still issued the voices of somelate revellers. Five minutes later the "owl train" bore from the townMessrs. Van Wink and Ketchem, who might be called with a certain aptnessbirds of the night and of prey. 

Haldane remained upon the saloon steps, where he had been left, blinkingstupidly at a distant street lamp. He had a vague impression thatsomething was wrong--that a misfortune of some kind had befallen him, but all was confused and blurred. He would have soon gone to sleep againhad not the door opened, and a man emerged, who exclaimed:

"Faix, an who have we here, noddin' to himself as if he knew more'nother folk? Are ye waitin' for some un to ax ye within for a comfortin'dhrop?"

"Take me 'ome, " mumbled Haldane. 

"Where's yer home?"

"Mrs. Haldane's, " answered the youth, thinking himself in his nativetown. 

"By me sowl, if it isn't Boss Arnot's new clerk. Sure's me name is PatM'Cabe 'tis Misther Haldane. I say, are ye sick?"

"Take me 'ome. "

"Faix, I see, " winking at two or three of his cronies who had gatheredat the open door; "it's a disase I'm taken wid meself at odd spells, though I takes moighty good care to kape out o' the way of ould manArnot when I'm so afflicted. He has a quare way o' thinkin' that iveryman about him can go as rigaler as if made in a mash-shine shop, badluck till 'im. "

Perhaps all in Mr. Arnot's employ would have echoed this sentiment, could the ill luck have blighted him without reaching them. In workinghis employes as he did his machinery, Mr. Arnot forgot that the latterwas often oiled, but that he entirely neglected to lubricate the willsof the former with occasional expressions of kindness and interest intheir welfare. Thus it came to pass that even down to poor Pat M'Cabe, man of all work around the office building, all felt that their employerwas a hard, driving taskmaster, who ever looked beyond them and theirinterests to what they accomplished for him. The spirit of the masterinfused itself among the men, and the tendency of each one to look outfor himself without regard to others was increased. If Pat had served akinder and more considerate man, he might have been inclined to showgreater consideration for the intoxicated youth; but Pat's favoritephrase, "Divil take the hindmost, " was but a fair expression of thespirit which animated his master, and the majority in his employ. When, therefore, Haldane, in his thick, imperfect utterance, again said, "Takeme 'ome, " Pat concluded that it would be the best and safest course forhimself. Helping the young man to his feet he said:

"Can ye walk? Mighty onstiddy on yer pins; but I'm athinkin' I can getye to the big house afore mornin'. Should I kape ye out o' the way tillye get sober, and ould man Arnot find it out, I'd be in the streetmeself widout a job 'fore he ate his dinner. Stiddy now; lean aginst me, and don't wabble yer legs so. "

With like exhortations the elder and more wary disciple of Bacchusdisappeared with his charge in the gloom of the night. 

It chanced that the light burned late, on this evening, in Mrs. Arnot'sparlor. The lady's indisposition had confined her to her room and couchduring the greater part of the day; but as the sun declined, thedistress in her head had gradually ceased, and she had found her airydrawing-room a welcome change from the apartment heavy with the odor ofanaesthetics. Two students from the university had aided in beguilingthe early part of the evening, and then Laura had commenced readingaloud an interesting tale, which had suspended the consciousness oftime. But as the marble clock on the mantel chimed out the hour oftwelve, Mrs. Arnot rose hastily from the sofa, exclaiming:

"What am I thinking of, to keep you up so late! If your mother knew thatyou were out of your bed she would hesitate to trust you with me again. "

"One more chapter, dear auntie, please?"

"Yes, dear, several more--to-morrow; but to bed now, _instanter_. Come, kiss your remorseful aunt good-night. I'll remain here a whilelonger, for either your foolish story or the after effects of mywretched headache make me a trifle morbid and wakeful to-night. Oh, howthat bell startles me! what can it mean so late?"

The loud ring at the door remained unanswered a few moments, for theservants had all retired. But the applicant without did not wait longbefore repeating the summons still more emphatically. 

Then they heard the library door open, and Mr. Arnot's heavy step in thehall, as he went himself to learn the nature of the untimely call. Hiswife's nervous timidity vanished at once, and she stepped forward tojoin her husband, while Laura stood looking out from the parlor entrancewith a pale and frightened face. "Can it be bad news from home?" shethought. 

"Who is there?" demanded Mr. Arnot, sternly. 

"Me and Misther Haldane, " answered a voice without in broadest brogue. 

"Mr. Haldane!" exclaimed Mr. Arnot excitedly; "what can this mean? Whois _me?_" he next asked loudly. 

"Me is Pat M'Cabe, sure; the same as tidies up the office and does yerirrinds. Mr. Haldane's had a bad turn, and I've brought him home. "

As Mr. Arnot swung open the door, a man, who seemingly had been leaningagainst it, fell prone within the hall. Laura gave a slight scream, andMrs. Arnot was much alarmed, thinking that Haldane was suffering fromsome sudden and alarming attack. Thoughts of at once telegraphing to hismother were entering her mind, when the object of her solicitude triedto rise, and mumbled in the thick utterance of intoxication:

"This isn't home. Take me to mother's. "

Mrs. Arnot's eyes turned questioningly to her husband, and she saw thathis face was dark with anger and disgust. 

"He is drunk, " he said, turning to Pat, who stood in the door, cap inhand. 

"Faix, sur, it looks moighty loike it. But it's not for a dacent soberman loike meself to spake sartainly o' sich matters. "

"Few words and to the point, sir, " said Mr. Arnot harshly; "your breathtells where you have been. But where did you find this--and how came youto find him?"

Either Mr. Arnot was at a loss for a term which would express hisestimation of the young man, who had slowly and unsteadily risen, andwas supporting himself by holding fast the hatrack, or he was restrainedin his utterance by the presence of his wife. 

"Well, sur, " said Pat, with as ingenuous and candid an air as if he weretelling the truth, "the wife o' a neighbor o' mine was taken on asuddint, and I went for the docther, and as I was a comin' home, whoshud I see sittin' on a doorsthep but Misther Haldane, and I thought itme duty to bring him home to yees. "

"You have done right. Was it on the doorstep of a drinking-place youfound him?"

"I'm athinkin' it was, sur; it had that sort o' look. "

Mr. Arnot turned to his wife and said coldly, "You now see how it works. But this is not a fit object for you and Laura to look upon; so pleaseretire. I will see that he gets safely to his room. I suppose he must gothere, though the station-house is the more proper place for him. "

"He certainly must go to his own room, " said Mrs. Arnot, firmly butquietly. 

"Well, then, steady him along up the stairs, Pat. I will show you whereto put the--" and Mr. Arnot again seemed to hesitate for a term, but theblank was more expressive of his contempt than any epithet could be, since his tone and manner suggested the worst. 

Returning to the parlor, Mrs. Arnot found Laura's face expressive of thedeepest alarm and distress. 

"O auntie, what does all this mean? Am I in any way to blame? He said hewould go to ruin if I didn't--but how could I?"

"No, my dear, you are not in the slightest degree to blame. Mr. Haldaneseems both bad and foolish. I feel to-night that he is not worthy tospeak to you; much less is he fit to be intrusted with that which youwill eventually give, I hope, only to one who is pre-eminently noble andgood. Come with me to your room, my child. I am very sorry I permittedyou to stay up to-night. "

But Laura was sleepless and deeply troubled; she had never seen alaborer--much less one of her own acquaintances--in Haldane's conditionbefore; and to her young, innocent mind the event had almost thecharacter of a tragedy. Although conscious of entire blamelessness, shesupposed that she was more directly the cause of Haldane's behavior thanwas true, and that he was carrying out his threat to destroy himself byreckless dissipation. She did not know that he had been beguiled intohis miserable condition through bad habits of long standing, and that hehad fallen into the clutches of those who always infest public haunts, and live by preying upon the fast, foolish, and unwary. Haldane, fromhis character and associations, was liable to such an experiencewhenever circumstances combined to make it possible. Young men with nomore principle than he possessed are never safe from disaster, and theywho trust them trust rather to the chances of their not meeting thepeculiar temptations and tests to which they would prove unequal. Lauracould not then know how little she had to do with the tremendousdownfall of her premature lover. The same conditions given, he wouldprobably have met with the same experience upon any occasion. After hisfirst glass of punch the small degree of discretion that he had learnedthus far in life began to desert him; and every man as he becomesintoxicated is first a fool, and then the victim of every one whochooses to take advantage of his voluntary helplessness and degradation. 

But innocent Laura saw a romantic and tragic element in the painfulevent, and she fell asleep with some vague womanly thoughts about savinga fellow-creature by the sacrifice of herself. However, the morninglight, the truth concerning Haldane, and her own good sense, wouldbanish such morbid fancies. Indeed the worst possible way in which ayoung woman can set about reforming a bad man is to marry him. The usualresult is greatly increased guilt on the part of the husband, andlifelong, hopeless wretchedness for the wife. 

CHAPTER IX

PAT AND THE PRESS

Pat having steadied and half carried Haldane to his room, Mr. Arnotdemanded of his clerk what had become of the money intrusted to hiscare; but his only answer was a stupid, uncomprehending stare. 

"Hold his hands, " said Mr. Arnot impatiently. 

M'Cabe having obeyed, the man of business, whose solicitude in theaffair had no concern with the young man's immeasurable loss, butrelated only to his own money, immediately felt in Haldane's pockets forthe envelopes which had contained the thousand dollars in currency. Theenvelopes were safe enough--one evidently opened with the utmost care, and the other torn recklessly--but the money was gone. 

When Haldane saw the envelopes, there was a momentary expression oftrouble and perplexity upon his face, and he tried to speak; but histhick utterance was unintelligible. This gleam of intelligence passedquickly, however, and the stupor of intoxication reasserted itself. Hisheavy eyelids drooped, and Pat with difficulty could keep him on hisfeet. 

"Toss him there on the lounge; take off his muddy boots. Nothing furthercan be done while he is in this beastly condition, " said Mr. Arnot, in avoice that was as harsh as the expression of his face. 

The empty envelopes and Mr. Arnot's dark looks suggested a great deal toPat, and he saw that one of his "sprees" was an innocent matter comparedwith this affair. 

"Now, go down to my study and wait there for me. "

Pat obeyed in a very steady and decorous manner, for the matter wasassuming such gravity as to sober him completely. 

Mr. Arnot satisfied himself that there was no chance of escape from thewindows, and then, after another look of disgust and anger at Haldane, who was now sleeping heavily, he took the key from the door, and lockedit on the outside. 

Descending to his study, the irate gentleman next wrote a note, and gaveit to his porter, saying:

"Take that to the police-headquarters, and ask that it be sent to thesuperintendent at once. No mistake, now, as you value your place; andmind, not a word of all this to any one. "

"Faix, sir, I'll be as dumb as an oyster, and do yer biddin' in ajiffy, " said Pat, backing out of the room, and glad to escape from onewhose threatening aspect seemed to forebode evil to any one within hisreach. 

"He looks black enough to murther the poor young spalpeen, " muttered theIrishman, as he hastened to do his errand, remembering now withtrepidation that, though he had escaped from his master, the big, red-faced, stout-armed wife of his bosom was still to be propitiatedafter his late prowlings. 

When he entered the main street, a light that glimmered from the top ofa tall building suggested how he might obtain that kind of oil which, cast upon the domestic billows that so often raged in his fourth-floorback room, was most effective in producing a little temporarysmoothness. 

Since the weather was always fouler within his domestic haven thanwithout, and on this occasion threatened to be at its worst, Pat at onetime half decided not to run into port at all; but the glimmer of thelight already mentioned suggested another course. 

Although the night was far spent, Pat still longed for a "wink o' slape"before going to his work, and, in order to enjoy it, knew that he mustobtain the means of allaying the storm, which was not merely brewing, but which, from the lateness of the hour, had long been brewed. In hisown opinion, the greenness of his native isle had long ago faded fromhis mental and moral complexion, and he did not propose that any straydollars, which by any shrewdness or artifice could be diverted into hispocket, should get by him. 

Since his wife had developed into a huge, female divinity, at whoseshrine it seemed probable that he would eventually become a humansacrifice, and whose wrath, in the meantime, it was his daily task toappease, Pat had gradually formed the habit of making a sort ofcompanion of himself. In accordance with his custom, therefore, hestopped under the high window from whence gleamed the light, for thesake of a little personal counsel. 

"Now, Pat, " he muttered, "if yees had gone home at nine o'clock, yeeswudn't be afeared to go home now; and if yees go home now widout adollar more or less, the ould 'ooman will make yer wish yees had set onthe curbstone the rest o' the night. They sez some men has no bowels o'marcies; and after what I've seen the night, and afore the night, too, Ikin belave that Boss Arnot's in'ards were cast at the same foundry wherehe gets his mash-shines. He told me that I must spake nary a word aboutwhat I've seen and heard, and if I should thry to turn an honest pennyby givin' a knowin' wink or two where they wud pay for the same, that'ud be the ind of Pat M'Cabe at the big office. And yet they sez thatthem as buys news is loike them that takes stolen goods--moighty willin'to kape dark about where they got it, so that they kin get more nexttime. That's the iditor of the 'Currier' in yon high room, and p'rapshe'll pay me as much for a wink and a hint the night as I'll get for meday's work termorrow. Bust me if I don't thry him, if he'll fust promiseme to say it any one axes him that he niver saw Pat M'Cabe in hisloife, " and the suddenly improvised reporter climbed the long stairwaysto where the night editor sat at his desk. 

Pat gave a hearty rap for manners, but as the night was waning he walkedin without waiting for an answer, and addressed the startled newspaperman with a business-like directness, which might often be advantageouslyimitated:

"Is this the shop where yer pays a dacent price for news?"

"It depends on the importance of the news, and its truthfulness, "answered the editor, after eying the intruder suspiciously for a moment. 

"Thin I've got ye on both counts, though I didn't think ye'd bear downso heavy on its being thrue, " said Pat, advancing confidently. 

As the door of the press-room, in which men were at work, stood open, the editor felt no alarm from the sudden appearance of the burly figurebefore him, but, supposing the man had been drinking, he saidimpatiently:

"Please state your business briefly, as my time is valuable. "

"If yer time is worth mor'n news, I'll go to another shop, " said Patstiffly, making a feint of departure. 

"That's a good fellow, go along, " chimed in the editor, bending down tohis writing again. 

Such disastrous acquiescence puzzled Pat for a moment, and he growled, "No wonder yer prints a paper that's loike a lump o' lead, when 'steado' lookin' for news yer turns it away from yer doors. "

"Now, look here, my man, " said the editor rising, "if you have anythingto say, say it. If you have been drinking, you will not be permitted tomake a row in this office. "

"It's not me, but another man that's been dhrinkin'. "

"Well, " snarled the editor, "if the other man had the drink, you havethe 'drunk, ' and if you don't take yourself off, I'll call some men fromthe press-room who may put you downstairs uncomfortably fast. "

"Hould on a bit, " remonstrated Pat, "before yer ruffle yer feathersclane over yer head and blinds yer eyes. Wud a man loike Boss Arnot sendme, if I was dhrunk, wid a letther at this toime o' night? and wud hesend a letther to the superintindent o' the perlice at this toime o' thenight to ax him the toime o' day! Afore yer calls yer spalpeens out o'the press-room squint at that. "

The moment the editor caught sight of the business stamp on Mr. Arnot'sletter and the formal handwriting, his manner changed, and he saidsuavely:

"I beg your pardon--we have misunderstood one another--take a chair. "

"There's been no misunderstandin' on my part, " retorted Pat, with aninjured air; "I've got as dainty a bit o' scandal jist under me tongueas iver ye spiced yer paper wid, and yees thrates me as if I was theinimy o' yer sowl. "

"Well, you see, " said the editor apologetically, "your not being in ourregular employ, Mr. --I beg your pardon--and your coming in this unusualway and hour--"

"But, begorry, somethin' unusual's happened. "

"So I understand; it was very good of you to come to us first; just giveme the points, and I will jot them down. "

"But what are yees goin' to give me for the pints?"

"That depends upon what they are worth. News cannot be paid for till welearn its value. "

"Och! here I'm rinnin' a grate risk in tellin' ye at all, and whin I'vespilt it all out, and can't pick it up agin, ye may show me the door, and tell me to go 'long wid me rubbish. "

"If you find what you have to report in the paper, you may know it isworth something. So if you will look at the paper to-morrow you can seewhether it will be worth your while to call again, " said the editor, becoming impatient at Pat's hesitancy to open his budget. 

"But I'm in sore need of a dollar or two to-night. Dade, it's as much asmy loife's worth to go home widout 'em. "

"See here, my good friend, " said the editor, rising again and speakingvery energetically, "my time is very valuable, and you have takenconsiderable of it. Whatever may be the nature of your news, it will notbe worth anything to me if you do not tell it at once. "

"Well, you see the biggest part o' the news is goin' to happento-morrow. "

"Well, well, what has happened to-night?"

"Will ye promise not to mention me name?"

"How can I mention it when I don't know it?"

"That's thrue, that's thrue. Now me mind's aisy on that pint, for yemust know that Boss Arnot's in'ards are made o' cast-iron, and he'd haveno marcy on a feller. You'll surely give me a dollar, at laste. "

"Yes, if your story is worth printing, and I give you just three minutesin which to tell it. "

Thus pinned down, Pat related all he knew and surmised concerningHaldane's woful predicament, saying in conclusion:

"Ye must know that this Haldane is not a poor spalpeen uv a clerk, but agintleman's son. They sez that his folks is as stylish and rich as theArnots themselves. If ye'll have a reporther up at the office in themornin', ye'll git the balance o' the tale. "

Having received his dollar, Pat went chuckling on his way to deliver hisemployer's letter to the superintendent of the city police. 

"Faix! I was as wise as a sarpent in not tellin' me name, for ye nivercan thrust these iditors. It's no green Irishman that can make a dollarafter twelve o' the night. "

A sleepy reporter was aroused and despatched after Pat, in order tolearn, if possible, the contents of Mr. Arnot's note. 

In the meantime heavily leaded lines--vague and mysterious--concerning"Crime in High Life, " were set up, accompanied on the editorial page bya paragraph to the following effect:

"With our usual enterprise and keen scent for news, we discovered at alate hour last night that an intelligent Irishman in the employ of Mr. Arnot had been intrusted by that gentleman with a letter written afterthe hour of midnight to the superintendent of the police. The guiltyparty appears to be a Mr. Haldane--a young man of aristocratic andwealthy connections--who is at present in Mr. Arnot's employ, and amember of his family. We think we are aware of the nature of his graveoffence, but in justice to all concerned we refer our readers to ournext issue, wherein they will find full particulars of the painfulaffair, since we have obtained peculiar facilities for learning them. Noarrests have yet been made. "

"That will pique all the gossips in town, and nearly double our nextissue, " complacently muttered the local editor, as he carried the scrawlat the last moment into the composing-room. 

In the meantime the hero of our story--if such a term by any latitude ofmeaning can be applied to one whose folly had brought him into such aprosaic and miserable plight--still lay in a heavy stupor on the loungewhere Pat had thrown his form, that had been as limp and helpless as ifit had become a mere body without a soul. But the consequences of hisaction did not cease with his paralysis, any more than do the influencesof evil deeds perish with a dying man. 

CHAPTER X

RETURNING CONSCIOUSNESS

Mr. Arnot did not leave his library that night. His wife came to thedoor and found it locked. To her appeal he replied coldly, butdecisively, that he was engaged. 

She sighed deeply, feeling that the sojourn of young Haldane under herroof was destined to end in a manner most painful to herself and to herfriend, his mother. She feared that the latter would blame her somewhatfor his miserable fiasco, and she fully believed that if her husbandpermitted the young man to suffer open disgrace, she would never beforgiven by the proud and aristocratic lady. 

And yet she felt that it was almost useless to speak to her husband inhis present mood, or to hope that he could be induced to show muchconsideration for so grave an offense. 

Of the worst feature in Haldane's conduct, however, she had noknowledge. Mr. Arnot rarely spoke to his wife concerning his business, and she had merely learned, the previous evening, that Haldane had beensent to New York upon some errand. Acting upon the supposition that herhusband had remembered and complied with her request, she graciouslythanked him for giving the young man a little change and divertingnovelty of scene. 

Mr. Arnot, who happened to verge somewhat toward a complacent mood uponthis occasion, smiled grimly at his wife's commendation, and even unbentso far as to indulge in some ponderous attempts at wit with Lauraconcerning her "magnificent offer, " and asserted that if she had been"like his wife, she would have jumped at the chance of getting hold ofsuch a crude, unreformed specimen of humanity. Indeed, " concluded he, "Idid not know but that Mrs. Arnot was bringing about the match, so thatshe might have a little of the raw material for reformatory purposescontinually on hand. "

Mrs. Arnot smiled, as she ever did, at her husband's attemptedwitticisms; but what he regarded as light, delicate shafts, wingedsportively and carelessly, had rather the character of any heavy objectthat came to hand thrown at her with heedless, inconsiderate force. Itis due Mr. Arnot to say that he gave so little thought and attention tothe wounds and bruises he caused, as to be unaware that any had beenmade. He had no hair-springs and jewel-tipped machinery in his massive, angular organization, and he acted practically as if the rest ofhumanity had been cast in the same mold with himself. 

But Haldane's act touched him at his most vulnerable point. Not only hada large sum of his money been made away with, but, what was far worse, there had been a most serious irregularity in the business routine. While, therefore, he resolved that Haldane should receive fullpunishment, the ulterior thought of giving the rest of his employes awarning and intimidating lesson chiefly occupied his mind. 

Aware of his wife's "unbusinesslike weakness and sentimental notions, "as he characterized her traits, he determined not to see her until hehad carried out his plan of securing repayment of the money, and ofstriking a salutary sentiment of fear into the hearts of all who wereengaged in carrying out his methodical will. 

Therefore, with the key of Haldane's room in his pocket, he kept watchand guard during the remainder of the night, taking only such rest ascould be obtained on the lounge in his library. 

At about sunrise two men appeared, and rapped lightly on the librarywindow. Mr. Arnot immediately went out to them, and placed one within asummer-house in the spacious garden at the rear of the house, and theother in front, where he would be partially concealed by evergreens. Bythis arrangement the windows of Haldane's apartment and every entranceof the house were under the surveillance of police officers in citizen'sdress. Mr. Arnot's own personal pride, as well as some regard for hiswife's feelings, led him to arrange that the arrest should not be madeat their residence, for he wished that all the events occurring at thehouse should be excluded as far as possible from the inevitable talkwhich the affair would occasion. At the same time he proposed to guardagainst the possibility of Haldane's escape, should fear or shame prompthis flight. 

Having now two assistant watchers, he threw himself on the sofa, andtook an hour or more of unbroken sleep. On awaking, he went with silenttread to the door of Haldane's room, and, afer listening a moment, wassatisfied from the heavy breathing within that its occupant was stillunder the influence of stupor. He now returned the key to the door, andunlocked it so that Haldane could pass out as soon as he was able. Then, after taking a little refreshment in the dining-room, he went directlyto the residence of a police justice of his acquaintance, who, onhearing the facts as far as then known concerning Haldane, made out awarrant for his arrest, and promised that the officer to whom it wouldbe given should be sent forthwith to Mr. Arnot's office--for thither theyoung man would first come, or be brought, on recovering from his heavysleep. 

Believing that he had now made all the arrangements necessary to securehimself from loss, and to impress the small army in his service thathonesty was the "best policy" in their relations with him, Mr. Arnotwalked leisurely to one of his factories in the suburbs, partly to seethat all was right, and partly to remind his agents there that they werein the employ of one whose untiring vigilance would not permit anyneglect of duty to escape undetected. 

Having noted that the routine of work was going forward as regularly asthe monotonous clank of the machinery, he finally wended his way to hiscity office, and was the first arrival thither save Pat M'Cabe, who hadjust finished putting the place in order for the business of the day. His factotum was in mortal trepidation, for in coming across town he hadeagerly bought the morning "Courier, " and his complacent sense ofsecurity at having withheld his name from the "oncivil iditer" vanishedutterly as he read the words, "an intelligent Irishman in Mr. Arnot'semploy. "

"Och! bloody blazes! that manes me, " he had exclaimed; "and ould BossArnot will know it jist as well as if they had printed me name all overthe paper. Bad luck to the spalpeen, and worse luck to meself!'Intilligent Irishman, ' am I? Then what kind o' a crather would one beas had no sinse a' tall? Here I've bin throwin' away fotry dollars themonth for the sake o' one! Whin I gets me discharge I'd better go roundto the tother side o' the airth' than go home to me woife. "

Nor were his apprehensions allayed as he saw Mr. Arnot reading the paperwith a darkening scowl; but for the present Pat was left in suspense asto his fate. 

Clerks and book-keepers soon appeared, and among them a policeman, whowas summoned to the inner office, and given a seat somewhat out of sightbehind the door. 

Upon every face there was an expression of suppressed excitement andexpectation, for the attention of those who had not seen the morningpaper was speedily called to the ominous paragraph. But the routine anddiscipline of the office prevailed, and in a few minutes all heads werebending over bulky journals and ledgers, but with many a furtive glanceat the door. 

As for Pat, he had the impression that the policeman within would collarhim before the morning was over, and march him off, with Haldane, tojail; and he was in such a state of nervous apprehension that almost anyevent short of an earthquake would be a relief if it could only happenat once. 

The April sun shone brightly and genially into the apartment in whichHaldane had been left to sleep off his drunken stupor. In all itsappointments it appeared as fresh, inviting, and cleanly as thewholesome light without. The spirit of the housekeeper pervaded everypart of the mansion, and in both furniture and decoration it would seemthat she had studiously excluded everything which would suggest morbidor gloomy thoughts. It was Mrs. Arnot's philosophy that outwardsurroundings impart their coloring to the mind, and are a help or ahindrance. She was a disciple of the light, and was well aware that shemust resolutely dwell in its full effulgence in order to escape from theblighting shadow of a life-long disappointment. Thus she sought to makeher home, not gay or gaudy--not a brilliant mockery of her sorrow, whichshe had learned to calmly recognize as one might a village cemetery in asunny landscape--but cheerful and lightsome like this April morning, which looked in through the curtained windows of Haldane's apartment, and found everything in harmony with itself save the occupant. 

And yet he was young and in his spring-time. Why should he make discordwith the bright fresh morning? Because the shadow of evil--which isdarker than the shadow of night, age, or sorrow--rested upon him. Hishair hung in disorder over a brow which was contracted into a frown. Hisnaturally fine features had a heavy, bloated, sensual aspect; and yet, even while he slept, you caught a glimpse in this face--as through aveil--of the anguish of a spirit that was suffering brutal wrong andviolence. 

His insensibility was passing away. His mind appeared to be strugglingto cast off the weight of a stupefied body, but for a time itsthroes--which were manifested by starts, strong shudderings, andmuttered words--were ineffectual. At last, in desperation, as it were, the tortured soul, poisoned even in its imaginings by the impurity ofthe lower nature, conjured up such a horrid vision that in its anguishit broke its chains, threw off the crushing weight, and the young manstarted up. 

This returning consciousness had not been, like the dawn stealing in athis window, followed by a burst of sunlight. As the morning enters thestained, foul, dingy places of dissipation, which early in the eveninghad been the gas-lighted, garish scenes of riot and senseless laughter, and later the fighting ground of all the vile vermin of the night withtheir uncanny noises--as when, the doors and windows having been at lastopened, the light struggles in through stale tobacco-smoke, revealingdimly a discolored, reeking place, whose sights and odors are more inharmony with the sewer than the sweet April sunshine and the violetsopening on southern slopes--so when reason and memory, the janitors ofthe mind, first admitted the light of consciousness, only the obscureoutline of miserable feelings and repulsive events were manifest toHaldane's introspection. 

There was a momentary relief at finding that the horrible dream whichhad awakened him was only a dream, but while his waking banished theuncouth shapes of the imagination, his sane, will-guided vision sawrevealed that from which he shrank with far greater dread. 

For a few moments, as he stared vacantly around the room, he couldrealize nothing save a dull, leaden weight of pain. In this drearyobscurity of suffering, distinct causes of trouble and fear began toshape themselves. There was a mingled sense of misfortune and guilt. Hehad a confused memory of a great disappointment, and he knew from hiscondition that he had been drinking. 

He looked at himself--he was dressed. There stood his muddy boots--twofoul blots on the beauty and cleanliness of the room. So then he hadcome, or had been brought, at some hour during the night, to the houseof his stern and exacting employer. Haldane dismissed the thought of himwith a reckless oath; but his face darkened with anguish as heremembered that this was also the home of Mrs. Arnot, who had been sokind, and, at the present time, the home of Laura Romeyn also. 

They may have seen, or, at least, must know of, his degradation. 

He staggered to the ewer, and, with a trembling hand, poured out alittle water. Having bathed his hot, feverish face, he again sat down, and tried to recall what had happened. 

In bitterness of heart he remembered his last interview with Laura, andher repugnance toward both himself and what she regarded as "hisdisgusting vices, " and so disgusting did his evil courses now seem that, for the first time in his life, he thought of himself with loathing. 

Then, as memory rapidly duplicated subsequent events, he gave acontemptuous smile to his "gloomy grandeur" schemes in passing, and sawhimself on the way to New York, with one thousand dollars of hisemployer's funds intrusted to his care. He remembered that he wasintroduced to two fascinating strangers, that they drank and lunchedtogether, that they missed the train, that they were gambling, that, having lost all his own money, he was tempted to open a packagebelonging to Mr. Arnot; did he not open the other also? At this pointall became confused and blurred. 

What had become of that money?

With nervous, trembling haste he searched his pockets. Both the moneyand the envelopes were gone. 

His face blanched; his heart sank with a certain foreboding of evil. Hefound himself on the brink of an abyss, and felt the ground crumblingbeneath him. First came a mad impulse to fly, to escape and hidehimself; and he had almost carried it out. His hand was on the door, buthe hesitated, turned back, and walked the floor in agony. 

Then came the better impulse of one as yet unhardened in the ways ofevil, to go at once to his employer, tell the whole truth, and make suchreparation as was within his power. He knew that his mother wasabundantly able to pay back the money, and he believed she would do so. 

This he conceded was his best, and, indeed, only safe course, and hehoped that the wretched affair might be so arranged as to be kept hiddenfrom the world. As for Mrs. Arnot and Laura, he felt that he could neverlook them in the face again. 

Suppose he should meet them going out. The very thought was dreadful, and it seemed to him that he would sink to the floor from shame undertheir reproachful eyes. Would they be up yet? He looked at his watch; ithad run down, and its motionless hands pointed at the vile, helplesscondition in which he must have been at the time when he usually woundit up. 

He glanced from the window, with the hope of escaping the two humanbeings whom he dreaded more than the whole mocking world; but it was toolofty to admit of a leap to the ground. 

"Who is yonder strange man that seems to be watching the house?" hequeried. 

Was it his shaken nerves and sense of guilt which led him to suspectdanger and trouble on every side?

"There is no help for it, " he exclaimed, grinding his teeth; and, opening the door, he hastened from the house, looking neither to theright hand nor to the left. 

CHAPTER XI

HALDANE IS ARRESTED

As Haldane strode rapidly along the winding, gravelled path that ledfrom Mrs. Arnot's beautiful suburban villa to the street, he startedviolently as he encountered a stranger, who appeared to be coming towardthe mansion; and he was greatly relieved when he was permitted to passunmolested. And yet the cool glance of scrutiny which he received left avery unpleasant impression. Nor was this uneasiness diminished when, onreaching the street, he found that the stranger had apparentlyaccomplished his errand to the house so speedily that he was alreadyreturning, and accompanied by another man. 

Were not their eyes fixed on him, or was he misled by his fears? After alittle time he looked around again. One of the men had disappeared, andhe breathed more fully. No; there he was on the opposite side of thestreet, and walking steadily abreast with him, while his companioncontinued following about the same distance away. 

Was he "shadowed"? He was, indeed, literally and figuratively. Althoughthe sun was shining bright and warm, never before had he been consciousof such a horror of great darkness. The light which can banish theoppressive, disheartening shadow of guilt must come from beyond the sun. 

As he entered the busier streets in the vicinity of the office, he saw afew persons whom he knew. Was he again misled by his overwrought andnervous condition? or did these persons try to shun him by turningcorners, entering shops, or by crossing the street, and lookingresolutely the other way. 

Could that awful entity, the world, already know the events of the pastnight?

A newsboy was vociferating down a side street. The word "Crime" onlycaught Haldane's ear, but the effect was as cold and as chilling as thedrip of an icicle. 

As he hastened up the office steps, Pat M'Cabe scowled upon him, andmuttered audibly:

"Bad luck till yees! I wish I'd lift ye ablinkin' like an owl where Ifound ye. "

"An' back luck till yees, too, " added Pat in his surly growl, as areporter, note-book in hand, stepped nimbly in after Haldane; "it'smeself that wishes iviry iditer o' the land was burned up wid his ownlyin' papers. "

Even the most machine-like of the sere and withered book-keepers heldtheir pens in suspense as Haldane passed hastily toward Mr. Arnot'sprivate office, followed by the reporter, whose alert manner andobservant, questioning eye suggested an animated symbol ofinterrogation. 

The manner of his fellow clerks did not escape Haldane's notice even inthat confused and hurried moment, and it increased his sense of animpending blow; but when, on entering the private office, Mr. Arnotturned toward him his grim, rigid face, and when a man in the uniform ofan officer of the law rose and stepped forward as if the one expectedhad now arrived, his heart misgave him utterly, and for a moment hefound no words, but stood before his employer, pallid and trembling, hisvery attitude and appearance making as full a confession of guilt ascould the statement he proposed to give. 

If Pat's opinion concerning Mr. Arnot's "in'ards" had not beensubstantially correct, that inexorable man would have seen that this wasnot an old offender who stood before him. The fact that Haldane wasoverwhelmed with shame and fear, should have tempered his course withhealing and saving kindness. But Mr. Arnot had already decided upon hisplan, and no other thought would occur to him save that of carrying itout with machine-like precision. His frown deepened as he saw thereporter, but after a second's thought he made no objection to hispresence, as the increasing publicity that would result would add to thepunishment which was designed to be a signal warning to all in hisemploy. 

After a moment's lowering scrutiny of the trembling youth, during whichhis confidential clerk, by previous arrangement, appeared, that he mightbe a witness of all that occurred, Mr. Arnot said coldly:

"Well, sir, perhaps you can now tell me what has become of the fundswhich I intrusted to your care last evening. "

"That is my purpose--object, " stammered Haldane; "if you will only giveme a chance I will tell you everything. "

"I am ready to hear, sir. Be brief; business has suffered too great aninterruption already. "

"Please have a little consideration for me, " said Haldane, eagerly, great beaded drops of perspiration starting from his brow; "I do notwish to speak before all these witnesses. Give me a private interview, and I will explain everything, and can promise that the money shall berefunded. "

"I shall make certain of that, rest assured, " replied Mr. Arnot, in thesame cold, relentless tone. "The money was intrusted to your care lastevening, in the presence of witnesses. Here are the empty envelopes. Ifyou have any explanations to make concerning what you did with themoney, speak here and now. "

"I must warn the young man, " said the policeman, interposing, "not tosay anything which will tend to criminate himself. He must remember thatwhatever he says will appear against him in evidence. "

"But there is no need that this affair should have any such publicity, "Haldane urged in great agitation. "If Mr. Arnot will only show a littlehumanity toward me I will arrange the matter so that he will not lose apenny. Indeed, my mother will pay twice the sum rather than have theaffair get abroad. "

The reporter just behind him grinned and lifted his eyebrows as he tookdown these words _verbatim_. 

"For your mother's sake I deeply regret that 'the affair' as you mildlyterm it, must and has become known. As far as you are concerned, I haveno compunctions. When a seeming man can commit a grave crime in the hopethat a widowed mother--whose stay and pride he ought to be--will cometo his rescue, and buy immunity from deserved punishment, he neitherdeserves, nor shall he receive, mercy at my hands. But were I capable ofa maudlin sentiment of pity in the circumstances, the duty I owe mybusiness would prevent any such expression as you desire. When any onein my employ takes advantage of my confidence, he must also, and withabsolute certainty, take the consequences. "

"Bad luck ter yez!" mentally ejaculated Pat, whom curiosity and thefascination of his own impending fate had drawn within earshot. 

"What do you intend to do with me?" asked Haldane, his brow contracting, and his face growing sullen under Mr. Arnot's harsh, bitter words. 

"Do! What is done with clerks who steal their employers' money?"

"I did not steal your money, " said Haldane impetuously. 

"Where is it, then?" asked Mr. Arnot, with a cold sneer. 

"Be careful, now, " said the policeman; "you are getting excited, and youmay say what you'll wish you hadn't. "

"Mr. Arnot, do you mean to have it go abroad to all the world that Ihave deliberately stolen that thousand dollars?" asked the young mandesperately. 

"Here are the empty envelopes. Where is the money?" said his employer, in the same cool, inexorable tone. 

"I met two sharpers from New York, who made a fool of me--"

"Made a fool of you! that was impossible, " interrupted Mr. Arnot with aharsh laugh. 

"Dastard that you are, to strike a man when he is down, " thunderedHaldane wrathfully. "Since everything must go abroad, the truth shallgo, and not foul slander. I got to drinking with these men from NewYork, and missed the train--"

"Be careful, now; think what you are saying, " interrupted the policeman. 

"He charges me with what amounts to a bald theft, and in a way that allwill hear of the charge, and shall I not defend my self?"

"O, certainly, if you can prove that you did not take the money--onlyremember, what you say will appear in the evidence. "

"What evidence?" cried the bewildered and excited youth with an oath. "If you will only give me a chance, you shall have all the evidencethere is in a sentence. These blacklegs from New York appeared likegentlemen. A friend in town introduced them to me, and, after losing thetrain, we agreed to spend the evening together. They called for cards, and they won the money. "

Mr. Arnot's dark cheek had grown more swarthy at the epithet of"dastard, " but he coolly waited until Haldane had finished, and thenasked in his former tone:

"Did they take the money from your person and open the envelopes, onecarefully, the other recklessly, before they won it?"

Guided by this keen questioning, memory flashed back its light on theevents of the past night, and Haldane saw himself opening the firstpackage, certainly, and he remembered how it was done. He trembled, andhis face, that had been so flushed, grew very pale. For a moment he wasso overwhelmed by a realization of his act, and its threateningconsequences, that his tongue refused to plead in his behalf. At last hestammered:

"I did not mean to take the money--only to borrow a little of it, andreturn it that same night They got me drunk--I was not myself. But Iassure you it will all be returned. I can--"

"Officer, do your duty, " interrupted Mr. Arnot sternly. "Too much timehas been wasted over the affair already, but out of regard for hismother I wished to give this young man an opportunity to make anexculpating explanation or excuse, if it were in his power. Since, according to his own statement, he is guilty, the law must take itscourse. "

"You don't mean to send me to prison?" asked Haldane excitedly. 

"I could never send you to prison, " replied Mr. Arnot coldly; "your ownact may bring you there. But I do mean to send you before the justicewho issued the warrant for your arrest, held by this officer. Unless youcan find some one who will give bail in your behalf, I do not see why heshould treat you differently from other offenders. "

"Mr. Arnot, " cried Haldane passionately, "this is my first and onlyoffence. You surely cannot be so cold-blooded as to inflict upon me thisirreparable disgrace? It will kill my mother. "

"You should have thought of all this last evening, " said Mr. Arnot. "Ifyou persist in ignoring the fact, that it is your own deed that woundsyour mother and inflicts disgrace upon yourself, the world will not. Come, Mr. Officer, serve your warrant, and remove your prisoner. "

"Is it your purpose that I shall be dragged through these streets in thebroad light of day to a police court, and thence to jail?" demandedHaldane, a dark menace coming into his eyes, and finding expression inhis livid face. 

"Yes, sir, " said the man of business, rising and speaking in loud, sterntones, so that all in the office could hear; "I mean that you or any oneelse in my employ who abuses my trust and breaks the laws shall suffertheir full penalty. "

"You are a hard-hearted wretch!" thundered Haldane; "you are a paganidolater, and gold is your god. You crush your wife and servants athome; you crush the spirit and manhood of your clerks here by yourcast-iron system and rules. If you had shown a little consideration forme you would have lost nothing, and I might have had a chance for abetter life. But you tread me down into the mire of the streets; youmake it impossible for me to appear among decent men again; you strikemy mother and sisters as with a dagger. Curse you! if I go to jail, itwill require you and all your clerks to take me there!" and he whirledon his heel, and struck out recklessly toward the door. 

The busy reporter was capsized by the first blow, and his nose long boreevidence that it is a serious matter to put that member into otherpeople's affairs, even in a professional way. 

Before Haldane could pass from the inner office two strangers, who hadbeen standing quietly at the door, each dexterously seized one of hishands with such an iron grasp that, after a momentary struggle, he gaveup, conscious of the hopelessness of resistance. 

"If you will go quietly with us we will employ no force, " said the manin uniform; "otherwise we must use these;" and Haldane shuddered aslight steel manacles were produced. "These men are officers like myself, and you see that you stand no chance with three of us. "

"Well, lead on, then, " was the sullen answer. "I will go quietly if youdon't use those, but if you do, I will not yield while there is a breathof life in me. "

"A most desperate and hardened wretch!" ejaculated the reporter, soppinghis streaming nose. 

With a dark look and deep malediction upon his employer, Haldane was ledaway. 

Mr. Arnot was in no gentle mood, for, while he had carried out hisprogramme, the machinery of the legal process had not worked smoothly. Very disagreeable things had been said to him in the hearing of hisclerks and others. "Of course, they are not true, " thought thegentleman; "but his insolent words will go out in the accounts of theaffair as surely as my own. "

If Haldane had been utterly overwhelmed and broken down, and had shownonly the cringing spirit of a detected and whipped cur, Mr. Arnot'scomplacency would have been perfect. But as it was, the affair had goneforward in a jarring, uncomfortable manner, which annoyed and irritatedhim as would a defective, creaking piece of mechanism in one of hisfactories. Opposition, friction of any kind, only made his imperiouswill more intolerant of disobedience or neglect; therefore he summonedPat in a tone whose very accent foretold the doom of the "intelligentIrishman. "

"Did I not order you to give no information to any one concerning whatoccurred last night?" he demanded in his sternest tone. 

Pat hitched and wriggled, for giving up his forty dollars a month waslike a surgical operation. He saw that his master was incensed, and inno mood for extenuation; so he pleaded--

"Misther Arnot, won't ye plaze slape on it afore ye gives me medischarge. If ye'll only think a bit about them newspaper men, ye'llknow it could not be helped a' tall. If they suspicion that a man hasanything in him that they're wantin' to know, they the same as put acorkscrew intil him, and pull till somethin' comes, and thin they makeup the rest. Faix, sur, I niver could o' got by 'em aloive wid meletther onless a little o' the news had gone intil their rav'nous maws. "

"Then I'll find a man who can get by them, and who is able to obey myorders to the letter. The cashier will pay you up to date; then leavethe premises. "

"Och, Misther Arnot, me woife'll be the death o' me, and thin ye'll haveme bluid on yer sowl. Give me one more--"

"Begone!" said his employer harshly; "too much time has been wastedalready. "

Pat found that his case was so desperate that he became reckless, and, instead of slinking off, he, too showed the same insubordination anddisregard for Mr. Arnot's power and dignity that had been so irritatingin Haldane. Clapping his hat on one side of his head, and with such aninsolent cant forward that it quite obscured his left eye, Pat restedhis hands on his hips, and with one foot thrust out sidewise, he fixedhis right eye on his employer with the expression of sardoniccontemplation, and then delivered himself as follows:

"The takin' up a few minits o' yer toime is a moighty tirrible waste, but the sindin' of a human bain to the divil is no waste a' tall a'tall: that's the way ye rason, is it? I allers heerd that yer in'ardswere made o' cast-iron, and I can belave--"

"Leave this office, " thundered Mr. Arnot. 

"Begorry, ye can't put a man in jail for spakin' his moind, nor forspakin' the truth. If ye had given me a chance I'd been civil andobadient the rist o' me days. But whin ye act to'ard a man as if he wasa lump o' dirt that ye can kick out o' the way, and go on, ye'll foindthat the lump o' dirt will lave some marks on yer nice clothes. I tellye till yer flinty ould face that ye'r a hard-hearted riprobate that 'udgrind a poor divil to paces as soon as any mash-shine in all yer bigfactories. Ye'll see the day whin ye'll be under somebody's heelyerself, bad luck to yez!"

Pat's irate volubility flowed in such a torrent that even Mr. Arnotcould not check it until he saw fit to drop the sluice-gates himself, which, with a contemptuous sniff, and an expression of concentratedwormwood and gall, he now did. Lifting his battered hat a little moretoward the perpendicular, he went to the cashier's desk, obtained hismoney, and then jogged slowly and aimlessly down the street, leaving awake of strange oaths behind him. 

Thus Mr. Arnot's system again ground out the expected result; but theplague of humanity was that it would not endure the grinding processwith the same stolid, inert helplessness of other raw material. Thoughhe had had his way in each instance, he grew more and more dissatisfiedand out of sorts. This vituperation of himself would not tend to impresshis employes with awe, and strike a wholesome fear in their hearts. Theculprits, instead of slinking away overwhelmed with guilt and the weightof his displeasure, had acted and spoken as if he were a grim oldtyrant; and he had a vague, uncomfortable feeling that his clerks intheir hearts sided with them and against him. It even occurred to himthat he was creating a relation between himself and those in his servicesimilar to that existing between master and slaves; and that, instead offorming a community with identical interests, he was on one side andthey on the other. But, with the infatuation of a selfish nature andimperious will, he muttered:

"Curse them! I'll make them move in my grooves, or toss them out of theway!" Then, summoning his confidential clerk, he said:

"You know all about the affair. You will oblige me by going to theoffice of the justice, and stating the case, with the prisoner'sadmissions. I do not care to appear further in the matter, except byproxy, unless it is necessary. "

CHAPTER XII

A MEMORABLE MEETING

Mrs. Arnot had looked upon Haldane's degradation with feelings akin todisgust and anger, but as long, sleepless hours passed, her thoughtsgrew more gentle and compassionate. She was by nature an advocate ratherthan a judge. Not the spirit of the disciples, that would call down firefrom heaven, but the spirit of the Master, who sought to lay hishealing, rescuing hand on every lost creature, always controlled hereventually. Human desert did not count as much with her as human need, and her own sorrows had made her heart tender toward the sufferings ofothers, even though well merited. 

The prospect that the handsome youth, the son of her old friend, wouldcast himself down to perish in the slough of dissipation, was a tragedythat wrung her heart with grief; and when at last she fell asleep it waswith tears upon her face. 

Forebodings had followed Laura also, even into her dreams, and at last, in a frightful vision, she saw her uncle placing a giant on guard overthe house. Her uncle had scarcely disappeared before Haldane tried toescape, but the giant raised his mighty club, as large and heavy as themast of a ship, and was about to strike when she awoke with a violentstart. 

In strange unison with her dream she still heard her uncle's voice inthe garden below. She sprang to the window, half expecting to see thegiant also, nor was she greatly reassured on observing an unknown manposted in the summer-house and left there. Mr. Arnot's mysteriousaction, and the fact that he was out at that early hour, added to thedisquiet of mind which the events of the preceding night had created. 

Her simple home-life had hitherto flowed like a placid stream in sunnymeadows, but now it seemed as if the stream were entering a forest wheredark and ominous shadows were thrown across its surface. She was toowomanly to be indifferent to the fate of any human being. At the sametime she was still so much of a child, and so ignorant of the world, that Haldane's action, even as she understood it, loomed up before herimagination as something awful and portentous of unknown evils. She wasoppressed with a feeling that a crushing blow impended over him. Now, almost as vividly as in her dream, she still saw the giant's club raisedhigh to strike. If it were only in a fairy tale, her sensitive spiritwould tremble at such a stroke, but inasmuch as it was falling on onewho had avowed passionate love for her, she felt almost as if she mustshare in its weight. The idea of reciprocating any feeling thatresembled his passion had at first been absurd, and now, in view of whathe had shown himself capable, seemed impossible; and yet his stronglyexpressed regard for her created a sort of bond between them in spite ofherself. She had realized the night before that he would be immediatelydismissed and sent home in disgrace; but her dream, and the glimpse shehad caught of her uncle and the observant stranger, who, as she saw, still maintained his position, suggested worse consequences, whose veryvagueness made them all the more dreadful. 

As it was still a long time before the breakfast hour, she again soughther couch, and after a while fell into a troubled sleep, from which shewas awakened by her aunt. Hastily dressing, she joined Mrs. Arnot at alate breakfast, and soon discovered that she was worried and anxious aswell as herself. 

"Has Mr. Haldane gone out?" she asked. 

"Yes; and what perplexes me is that two strangers followed him to thestreet so rapidly that they almost seemed in pursuit. "

Then Laura related what she had seen, and her aunt's face grew pale andsomewhat rigid as she recognized the fact that her husband was carryingout some plan, unknown to her, which might involve a cruel blow to herfriend, Mrs. Haldane, and an overwhelming disgrace to Egbert Haldane. Atthe same time the thought flashed upon her that the young man's offencemight be graver than she had supposed. But she only remarked quietly:

"I will go down to the office and see your uncle after breakfast. "

"Oh, auntie, please let me go with you, " said Laura nervously. 

"I may wish to see my husband alone, " replied Mrs. Arnot doubtfully, foreseeing a possible interview which she would prefer her niece shouldnot witness. 

"I will wait for you in the outer office, auntie, if you will only letme go. I am so unstrung that I cannot bear to be left in the housealone. "

"Very well, then; we'll go together, and a walk in the open air will dous both good. "

As Mrs. Arnot was finishing her breakfast she listlessly took up themorning "Courier, " and with a sudden start read the heavy head-lines andparagraph which Pat's unlucky venture as a reporter had occasioned. 

"Come, Laura, let us go at once, " said she, rising hastily; and as soonas they could prepare themselves for the street they started toward thecentral part of the city, each too busy with her own thoughts to speakoften, and yet each having a grateful consciousness of unspoken sympathyand companionship. 

As they passed down the main street they saw a noisy crowd coming up thesidewalk toward them, and they crossed over to avoid it. But theapproaching throng grew so large and boisterous that they deemed itprudent to enter the open door of a shop until it passed. Their somewhatelevated position gave them a commanding view, and a policeman's uniformat once indicated that it was an arrest that had drawn together theloose human atoms that are always drifting about the streets. Theprisoner was followed by a retinue that might have bowed the head of anold and hardened offender with shame--rude, idle, half-grown boys, withtheir morbid interest in every thing tending to excitement and crime, seedy loungers drawn away from saloon doors where they are as surely tobe found as certain coarse weeds in foul, neglected corners--a ragged, unkempt, repulsive jumble of humanity, that filled the street withgibes, slang, and profanity. Laura was about to retreat into the shop inutter disgust, when her aunt exclaimed in a tone of sharp distress:

"Merciful Heaven! there is Egbert Haldane!"

With something like a shock of terror she recognized her quondam lover, the youth who had stood at her side and turned her music. But as she sawhim now there appeared an immeasurable gulf between them; while her pityfor him was profound, it seemed as helpless and hopeless in his behalfas if he were a guilty spirit that was being dragged away to final doom. 

Her aunt's startled exclamation caught the young man's attention, for itwas a voice that he would detect among a thousand, and he turned hislivid face, with its agonized, hunted look, directly toward them. 

As their eyes met--as he saw the one of all the world that he then mostdreaded to meet, Laura Romeyn, regarding him with a pale, frightenedface, as if he were a monster, a wild beast, nay, worse, a common thiefon his way to jail--he stopped abruptly, and for a second seemed tomeditate some desperate act. But when he saw the rabble closing on him, and heard the officers growl in surly tones, "Move on, " a sense ofhelplessness as well as of shame overwhelmed him. He shivered visibly, dashed his hat down over his eyes, and strode on, feeling at last thatthe obscurity of a prison cell would prove a welcome refuge. 

But Mrs. Arnot had recognized the intolerable suffering and humiliationstamped on the young man's features; she had seen the fearful, shrinkinggaze at herself and Laura, the lurid gleam of desperation, and readcorrectly the despairing gesture by which he sought to hide from them, the rabble, and all the world, a countenance from which he already feltthat shame had blotted all trace of manhood. 

Her face again wore a gray, rigid aspect, as if she had received a woundthat touched her heart; and, scarcely waiting for the miscellaneoushorde to pass, she took Laura's arm, and said briefly and almoststernly:

"Come. "

Mr. Arnot's equanimity was again destined to be disturbed. Until he hadcommenced to carry out his scheme of striking fear into the hearts ofhis employes, he had derived much grim satisfaction from itscontemplation. But never had a severe and unrelenting policy failed moresignally, and a partial consciousness of the fact annoyed him like aconstant stinging of nettles which he could not brush aside. When, therefore, his wife entered, he greeted her with his heaviest frown, anda certain twitching of his hands as he fumbled among his papers, whichshowed that the man who at times seemed composed of equal parts of ironand lead had at last reached a condition of nervous irritability whichmight result in an explosion of wrath; and yet he made a desperateeffort at self-control, for he saw that his wife was in one of thosemoods which he had learned to regard with a wholesome respect. 

"You have sent Haldane to prison, " she said calmly. Though her tone wasso quiet, there was in it a certain depth and tremble which her husbandwell understood, but he only answered briefly:

"Yes; he must go there if he finds no bail. "

"May I ask why?"

"He robbed me of a thousand dollars. "

"Were there no extenuating circumstances?" Mrs. Arnot asked, after aslight start. 

"No, but many aggravating ones. "

"Did he not come here of his own accord?"

"He could not have done otherwise. I had detectives watching him. "

"He could have tried to do otherwise. Did he not offer someexplanation?"

"What he said amounted to a confession of the crime. "

"What did he say?"

"I have not charged my mind with all the rash, foolish words of theyoung scapegrace. It is sufficient for me that he and all in my employreceived a lesson which they will not soon forget. I wish you wouldexcuse me from further consideration of the subject at present. It hascost me too much time already. "

"You are correct, " said Mrs. Arnot very quietly. "It is likely to provea very costly affair. I tremble to think what your lesson may cost thisyoung man, whom you have rendered reckless and desperate by this publicdisgrace; I tremble to think what this event may cost my friend, hismother. Of the pain it has cost me I will not speak--"

"Madam, " interrupted Mr. Arnot harshly, "permit me to say that this isan affair concerning which a sentimental woman can have no correctunderstanding. I propose to carry on my business in the way whichexperience has taught me is wise, and, with all respect to yourself, Iwould suggest that in these matters of business I am in my ownprovince. "

The ashen hue deepened upon Mrs. Arnot's face, but she answered quietly:

"I do not wish to overstep the bounds which should justly limit myaction and my interest in this matter. You will also do me the justiceto remember that I have never interfered in your business, and haverarely asked you about it, though in the world's estimation I would havesome right to do so. But if such harshness, if such disastrous cruelty, is necessary to your business, I must withdraw my means from it, for Icould not receive money stained, as it were, with blood. But of thishereafter. I will now telegraph Mrs. Haldane to come directly to ourhouse--"

"To our house!" cried Mr. Arnot, perfectly aghast. 

"Certainly. Can you suppose that, burdened with this intolerabledisgrace, she could endure the publicity of a hotel? I shall next visitHaldane, for as I saw him in the street, with the rabble following, helooked desperate enough to destroy himself. "

"Now, I protest against all this weak sentimentality, " said Mr. Arnot, rising. "You take sides with a robber against your husband. "

"I do not make light of Haldane's offence to you, and certainly shallnot to him. But it is his first offence, as far as we know, and, thoughyou have not seen fit to inform me of the circumstances, I cannotbelieve that he committed a cool, deliberate theft. He could have beenmade to feel his guilt without being crushed. The very gravity of hiswrong action might have awakened him to his danger, and have been theturning-point of his life. He should have had at least one chance--Godgives us many. "

"Well, well, " said Mr. Arnot impatiently, "let his mother return themoney, and I will not prosecute. But why need Mrs. Haldane come toHillaton? All can be arranged by her lawyer. "

"You know little of a mother's feelings if you can suppose she will notcome instantly. "

"Well, then, when the money is paid she can take him home, that is, after the forms of law are complied with. "

"But he must remain in prison till the money is paid?"

"Certainly. "

"You intimated that if any one went bail for him he need not go toprison. I will become his security. "

"O nonsense! I might as well give bail myself. "

"Has he reached the prison yet?"

"I suppose he has, " replied Mr. Arnot, taking care to give no hint ofthe preliminary examination, for it would have annoyed him excessivelyto have his wife appear at a police court almost in the light of anantagonist to himself. And yet his stubborn pride would not permit himto yield, and carry out with considerate delicacy the merciful policyupon which he saw she was bent. 

"Good-morning, " said his wife very quietly, and she at once left herhusband's private room. Laura rose from her chair in the outer officeand welcomed her gladly, for, in her nervous trepidation, the minuteshad seemed like hours. Mrs. Arnot went to a telegraph office, and sentthe following despatch to Mrs. Haldane:

"Come to my house at once. Your son is well, but has met withmisfortune. "

She then, with Laura, returned immediately home and ordered her carriagefor a visit to the prison. She also remembered with provident care thatthe young man could not have tasted food that morning. 

CHAPTER XIII

OUR KNIGHT IN JAIL

As Haldane emerged from the office into the open glare of the street, hewas oppressed with such an intolerable sense of shame that he becamesick and faint, and tottered against the policeman, who took no othernotice of his condition than the utterance of a jocular remark:

"You haven't got over your drunk yet, I'm athinking. "

Haldane made no reply, and the physical weakness gradually passed away. As his stunned and bewildered mind regained the power to act, he becameconscious of a morbid curiosity to see how he was regarded by those whomhe met. He knew that their manner would pierce like sword-thrusts, andyet every scornful or averted face had a cruel fascination. 

With a bitterness of which his young heart had never before had even afaint conception, he remembered that this cold and contemptuous, thisscoffing and jeering world was the same in which only yesterday heproposed to tower in such lofty grandeur that the maiden who hadslighted him should be consumed with vain regret in memory of her lostopportunity. He had, indeed, gained eminence speedily. All the town washearing of him; but the pedestal which lifted him so high was composedequally of crime and folly, and he felt as if he might stand as amonument of shame. 

But his grim and legal guardians tramped along in the most stolid andindifferent manner. The gathering rabble at their heels had no terrorfor them. Indeed, they rather enjoyed parading before respectablecitizens this dangerous substratum of society. It was a delicate way ofsaying, "Behold in these your peril, and in us your defence. We arenecessary to your peace and security. Respect us and pay us well. "

They represented the majesty of the law, which could lay its strong handon high and low alike, and the publicity which was like a scorching fireto Haldane brought honor to them. 

Although the journey seemed interminable to the culprit, they were notlong in reaching the police court, where the magistrate presiding hadalready entered on his duties. All night long, and throughout the entirecity, the scavengers of the law had been at work, and now, as a result, every miserable atom of humanity that had made itself a pestilentialoffence to society was gathered here to be disposed of according tosanatory moral rules. 

Hillaton was a comparatively well-behaved and decorous city; but inevery large community there is always a certain amount of humansediment, and Haldane felt that he had fallen low indeed, when he foundhimself classed and huddled with miserable objects whose existence hehad never before realized. Near him stood men who apparently had barelyenough humanity left to make their dominating animal natures moredangerous and difficult to control. To the instincts of a beast wasadded something of a man's intelligence, but so developed that it wasoften little more than cunning. If, when throwing away his manhood, manbecomes a creature more to be dreaded than a beast or venomous reptile, whichever he happens most to resemble, woman, parting with herwomanhood, scarcely finds her counterpart even in the most noxious formsof earthly existence. She becomes, in her perversion, something that isunnatural and monstrous; something, so opposite to the Creator's design, as to suggest it only in caricature, or, more often, in fiendishmockery. The Gorgons, Sirens, and Harpies of the ancients are scarcelymyths, for their fabled forms only too accurately portray, not thesuperficial and transient outward appearance, but the enduring characterwithin. 

Side by side with Haldane stood a creature whose dishevelled, rustyhair, blotched and bloated features, wanton, cunning, restless eyes, combined perfectly to form the head of the mythological Harpy. Itrequired little effort of the imagination to believe that her foul, bedraggled dress concealed the "wings and talons of the vulture. " Beingstill unsteady from her night's debauch, she leaned against the youngman, and when he shrank in loathing away, she, to annoy him, clasped himin her arms, to the uproarious merriment of the miscellaneous crowd thatis ever present at a police court. Haldane broke away from her graspwith such force as to make quite a commotion, and at the same time saidloudly and fiercely to the officer who had arrested him:

"You may have power to take me to jail, but you have not, and shall nothave, the right nor the power to subject me to such indignities. "

"Silence there! Keep order in the court!" commanded the judge. 

The officer removed his prisoner a little further apart from the others, growling as he did so:

"If you don't like your company, you should have kept out of it. "

Even in his overwhelming anxiety and distress Haldane could not forbeargiving a few curious glances at his companions. He had dropped out ofhis old world into a new one, and these were its inhabitants. In theirdegradation and misery he seemed to see himself and his futurereflected. What had the policeman said?--"Your company, " and with akeener pang than he had yet experienced he realized that this was hiscompany, that he now belonged to the criminal classes. He who yesterdayhad the right to speak to Laura Romeyn, was now herded with drunkards, thieves, and prostitutes; he who yesterday could enter Mrs. Arnot'sparlor, might now as easily enter heaven. As the truth of his situationgradually dawned upon him, he felt as if an icy hand were closing uponhis heart. 

But little time, however, was given him for observation or bitterrevery. With the rapid and routine-like manner of one made both callousand expert by long experience, the magistrate was sorting and disposingof the miserable waifs. Now he has before him the inmates of a"disorderly house, " upon which a "raid" had been made the previousnight. What is that fair young girl with blue eyes doing among thosecoarse-featured human dregs, her companions? She looks like a white lilythat has been dropped into a puddle. Perhaps that delicate andattractive form is but a disguise for the Harpy's wings and claws. Perhaps a gross, bestial spirit is masked by her oval Madonna-like face. Perhaps she is the victim of one upon whom God will wreak his vengeanceforever, though society has for him scarcely a frown. 

The puddle is suddenly drained off into some law-ordained receptacle, and the white lily is swept away with it. She will not long suggest aflower that has been dropped into the gutter. The stains upon her soulwill creep up into her face, and make her hideous like the rest. 

The case of Egbert Haldane was next called. As the policeman had said, his own admissions were now used against him, for the confidentialclerk, and, if there was need, the broken-nosed reporter, were on handto testify to all that had been said. The young man made no attempt toconceal, but tried to explain more fully the circumstances which led tothe act, hoping that in them the justice would find such extenuatingelements as would prevent a committal to prison. 

The judge recognized and openly acknowledged the fact that it was not acase of deliberate wrongdoing, and he ordered the arrest of the superioryoung gentleman who had introduced the New York gamblers to theirvictim; and yet in the eye of the law it was a clear case ofembezzlement; and, as Mr. Arnot's friend, the magistrate felt littledisposition to prevent things from taking their usual course. Theprisoner must either furnish bail at once, or be committed until hecould do so, or until the case could be properly tried. As Haldane was acomparative stranger in Hillaton there was no one to whom he felt hecould apply, and he supposed it would require some little time for hismother to arrange the matter. Upon his signifying that he could notfurnish bail immediately, the judge promptly ordered his committal tothe common jail of the city, which happened to be at some distance fromthe building then employed for the preliminary examinations. 

It was while on his way to this place of detention that he heard Mrs. Arnot's voice, and encountered her eyes and those of Laura Romeyn. Hisfirst impulse was to end both his suffering and himself by somedesperate act, but he was powerless even to harm himself. 

The limit of endurance, however had been reached. The very worst that hecould imagine had befallen him. Laura Romeyn had looked upon hisunutterable shame and disgrace. From a quivering and almost agonizingsensibility to his situation he reacted into sullen indifference. He nolonger saw the sun shining in the sky, nor the familiar sights of thestreet; he no longer heard nor heeded the jeering rabble that cametramping after. He became for the time scarcely more than a piece ofmechanism, that barely retained the power of voluntary motion, but hadlost ability to feel and think. When, at last, he entered his narrowcell, eight feet by eight, the wish half formed itself in his mind thatit was six feet by two, and that he might hide in it forever. 

He sat down on the rough wooden couch which formed the only furniture ofthe room, and buried his face in his hands, conscious only of a dull, leaden weight of pain. He made no effort to obtain legal counsel or tocommunicate his situation to his mother. Indeed, he dreaded to see her, and he felt that he could not look his sisters in the face again. Theprison cell seemed a refuge from the terrible scorn of the world, andhis present impulse was to cower behind its thick walls for the rest ofhis life. 

CHAPTER XIV

MR. ARNOT'S SYSTEM WORKS BADLY

Mr. Arnot was so disturbed by his wife's visit that he found itimpossible to return to the routine of business, and, instead ofmaintaining the cold, lofty bearing of a man whose imperious will awedand controlled all within its sphere, he fumed up and down his officelike one who had been caught in the toils himself. In the morning it hadseemed that there could not have been a fairer opportunity to vindicatehis iron system, and make it irresistible. The offending subject in hisbusiness realm should receive due punishment, and all the rest be taughtthat they were governed by inexorable laws, which would be executed withthe certainty and precision with which the wheels moved in a greatfactory under the steady impulse of the motor power. But the wholematter now bade fair to end in a tangled snarl, whose final issue no onecould foretell. 

He was sensitive to public opinion, and had supposed that his coursewould be upheld and applauded, and he be commended as a conservator ofpublic morals. He now feared, however, that he would be portrayed asharsh, grasping, and unfeeling. It did not trouble him that he was so, but that he would be made to appear so. 

But his wife's words in reference to the withdrawal of her largeproperty from his business was a far more serious consideration. He hadlearned how resolute and unswerving she could be in matters ofconscience, and he knew that she was not in the habit of making idlethreats in moments of irritation. If, just at this time, when he waswidely extending his business, she should demand a separate investmentof her means, it would embarrass and cripple him in no slight degree. Ifthis should be one of the results of his master-stroke, he would havereason to curse his brilliant policy all his days. He would now be onlytoo glad to get rid of the Haldane affair on any terms, for thus far ithad proved only a source of annoyance and mortification. He was somewhatconsoled, however, when his confidential clerk returned and intimatedthat the examination before the justice had been brief; that Haldane hadeagerly stated his case to the justice, but when that dignitary remarkedthat it was a clear case of embezzlement, and that he would have tocommit the prisoner unless some one went security for his futureappearance, the young fellow had grown sullen and answered, "Send me tojail then; I have no friends in this accursed city. "

To men of the law and of sense the case was as clear as daylight. 

But Mr. Arnot was not by any means through with his disagreeableexperiences. He had been a manufacturer sufficiently long to know thatwhen a piece of machinery is set in motion, not merely the wheelsnearest to one will move, but also others that for the moment may be outof sight. He who proposes to have a decided influence upon afellow-creature's destiny should remember our complicated relations, forhe cannot lay his strong grasp upon one life without becoming entangledin the interests of many others. 

Mr. Arnot was finding this out to his cost, for he had hardly composedhimself to his writing again before there was a rustle of a lady'sgarments in the outer office, and a hasty step across the threshold ofhis private _sanctum_. Looking up, he saw, to his dismay, the pale, frightened face of Mrs. Haldane. 

"Where is Egbert?--where is my son?" she asked abruptly. 

At that moment Mr. Arnot admitted to himself that he had never beenasked so embarrassing a question in all his life. Before him was hiswife's friend, a lady of the highest social rank, and she was sounmistakably a lady that he could treat her with only the utmostdeference. He saw with alarm himself the mother's nervous and tremblingapprehension, for there was scarcely anything under heaven that he wouldnot rather face than a scene with a hysterical woman. If this was to bethe climax of his policy he would rather have lost the thousand dollarsthan have had it occur. Rising from his seat, he said awkwardly:

"Really, madam, I did not expect you here this morning. "

"I was on my way to New York, and decided to stop and give my son asurprise. But this paper--this dreadful report--what does it mean?"

"I am sorry to say, madam, it is all too true, " replied Mr. Arnotuneasily. "Please take a chair, or perhaps it would be better for you togo at once to our house and see Mrs. Arnot, " he added, now glad toescape the interview on any terms. 

"What is too true?" she gasped. 

"I think you had better see Mrs. Arnot; she will explain, " said theunhappy man, who felt that his system was tumbling in chaos about hisears. "Let me assist you to your carriage. "

"Do you think I can endure the suspense of another moment? In mercyspeak--tell me the worst!"

"Well, " said Mr. Arnot, with a shiver like that of one about to plungeinto a cold bath, "I suppose you will learn sooner or later that yourson has committed a very wrong act. But, " he added hastily, on seeingMrs. Haldane's increasing pallor, "there are extenuatingcircumstances--at least, I shall act as if there were. "

"But what has he done--where is he?" cried the mother in agony. Then sheadded in a frightened whisper, "But the matter can be hushed up--thereneed be no publicity--oh, that would kill me! Please take steps--"

"Mr. Arnot, " said a young man just entering, and speaking in a piping, penetrating voice, " I represent the 'Evening Spy. ' I wish to obtain fromyou for publication the particulars of this disgraceful affair" Then, seeing Mrs. Haldane, who had dropped her veil, and was tremblingviolently, he added, "I hope I am not intruding; I--"

"Yes, sir, you are intruding, " said Mr. Arnot harshly. 

"Then, perhaps, sir, you will be so kind as to step outside for amoment. I can take down your words rapidly, and--"

"Step outside yourself, sir. I have nothing whatever to say to you. "

"I beg you to reconsider that decision, sir. Of course, a full accountof the affair must appear in this evening's 'Spy. ' It will be your ownfault if it is not true in all respects. It is said that you have actedharshly in the matter--that it was young Haldane's first offence, and--"

"Leave my office!" thundered Mr. Arnot. 

The lynx-eyed reporter, while speaking thus rapidly, had beenscrutinizing the veiled and trembling lady, and he was scarcelydisappointed that she now rose hastily, and threw back her veil as shesaid eagerly:

"Why must the whole affair be published? You say truly that his offence, whatever it is, is his first. Surely the editor of your paper will notbe so cruel as to blast a young man forever with disgrace!"

"Mrs. Haldane, I presume, " said the reporter, tracing a fewhieroglyphics in his note-book. 

"Yes, " continued the lady, speaking from the impulse of her heart, rather than from any correct knowledge of the world, "and I will paywillingly any amount to have the whole matter quietly dropped. I couldnot endure anything of this kind, for I have no husband to shelter me, and the boy has no father to protect him. "

Mr. Arnot groaned in spirit that he had not considered this case in anyof its aspects save those which related to his business. He had formedthe habit of regarding all other considerations as unworthy ofattention, but here, certainly, was a most disagreeable exception. 

"You touch my feelings deeply, " said the reporter, in a tone that neverfor a second lost its professional cadence, "but I much regret that yourhopes cannot be realized. Your son's act could scarcely be kept a secretafter the fact--known to all--that he has been openly dragged to prisonthrough the streets, " and the gatherer of news and sensations kept aneye on each of his victims as he made this statement. A cabalistic signin his note-book indicated the visible wincing of the enraged andhalf-distracted manufacturer, whose system was like an engine off thetrack, hissing and helpless; and a few other equally obscure markssuggested to the initiated the lady's words as she half shrieked:

"My son dragged through the streets to prison! By whom--who could do sodreadful?"--and she sank shudderingly into a chair, and covered her facewith her hands, as if to shut out a harrowing vision. 

"I regret to say, madam, that it was by a policeman, " added thereporter. 

"And thither a policeman shall drag you, if you do not instantly vacatethese premises!" said Mr. Arnot, hoarse with rage. 

"Thank you for your courtesy, " answered the reporter, shutting his bookwith a snap like that of a steel trap. "I have now about all the pointsI wish to get here. I understand that Mr. Patrick M'Cabe is no longerunder any obligations to you, and from him I can learn additionalparticulars. Good-morning. "

"Yes, go to that unsullied source of truth, whom I have just dischargedfor lying and disobedience. Go to perdition, also, if you please; buttake yourself out of my office, " said Mr. Arnot recklessly, for he wasgrowing desperate from the unexpected complications of the case. Then hesummoned one of his clerks, and said in a tone of authority, "Take thislady to my residence, and leave her in the care of Mrs. Arnot. "

Mrs. Haldane rose unsteadily, and tottered toward the door. 

"No, " said she bitterly; "I may faint in the street, but I will not gotoyour house. "

"Then assist the lady to her carriage;" and Mr. Arnot turned the key ofhis private office with muttered imprecations upon the whole wretchedaffair. 

"Whither shall I tell the man to drive?" asked the clerk, after Mrs. Haldane had sunk back exhausted on the seat. 

The lady put her hand to her brow, and tried to collect her distractedthoughts, and, after a moment's hesitation, said:

"To the prison. "

The carriage containing Mrs. Haldane stopped at last before the gloomymassive building, the upper part of which was used as a court-room andoffices for city and county officials, while in the basement wereconstructed the cells of the prison. It required a desperate effort onthe part of the timid and delicate lady, who for years had almost been arecluse from the world, to summon courage to alight and approach a placethat to her abounded in many and indefinite horrors. She was toopreoccupied to observe that another carriage had drawn up to theentrance, and the first intimation that she had of Mrs. Arnot's presenceoccurred when that lady took her hand in the shadow of the porch, andsaid:

"Mrs. Haldane, I am greatly surprised to see you here; but you can relyupon me as a true friend throughout this trial. I shall do all in mypower to--"

After the first violent start caused by her disturbed nervous condition, Mrs. Haldane asked, in a reproachful and almost passionate tone:

"Why did you not prevent--" and then she hesitated, as if she could notbring herself to utter the concluding words. 

"I could not; I did not know; but since I heard I have been doingeverything in my power. "

"It was your husband who--"

"Yes, " replied Mrs. Arnot, sadly, completing in thought her friend'sunfinished sentence. "But I had no part in the act, and no knowledge ofit until a short time since. I am now doing all I can to procure yourson's speedy release. My husband's action has been perfectly legal, andwe, who would temper justice with mercy, must do so in a legal way. Permit me to introduce you to my friend, Mr. Melville. He can bothadvise us and carry out such arrangements as are necessary;" and Mrs. Haldane saw that Mrs. Arnot was accompanied by a gentleman, whom in herdistress she had not hitherto noticed. 

The janitor now opened the door, and ushered them into a very plainapartment, used both as an office and reception-room. Mrs. Haldane wasso overcome by her emotion that her friend led her to a chair, andcontinued her reassuring words in a low voice designed for her earsalone:

"Mr. Melville is a lawyer, and knows how to manage these matters. Youmay trust him implicitly. I will give security for your son's futureappearance, should it be necessary, and I am quite satisfied it will notbe, as my husband has promised me that he will not prosecute if themoney is refunded. "

"I would have paid ten times the amount--anything rather than havesuffered this public disgrace, " sobbed the poor woman, who, true to herinstincts and life-long habit of thought, dwelt more upon the consequentshame of her son's act than its moral character. 

"Mr. Melville says he will give bail in his own name for me, " resumedMrs. Arnot, "as, of course, I do not wish to appear to be acting inopposition to my husband. Indeed, I am not, for he is willing that somesuch an arrangement should be made. He has very many in his employ, andfeels that he must be governed by rigid rules. Mr. Melville assures methat he can speedily effect Egbert's release. Perhaps it will save youpain to go at once to our house and meet your son there. "

"No, " replied the mother, rising, "I wish to see him at once. I _do_appreciate _your_ kindness, but I cannot go to the place which sheltersyour husband. I can never forgive him. Nor can I go to a hotel. I wouldrather stay in this prison until I can hide myself and my miserable sonin our own home. Oh, how dark and dreadful are God's ways! To think thatthe boy that I had brought up in the Church, as it were, should showsuch unnatural depravity!" Then, stepping to the door, she said to theunder-sheriff in waiting, "Please take me to my son at once, ifpossible. "

"Would you like me to go with you?" asked Mrs. Arnot, gently. 

"Yes, yes! for I may faint on the way. Oh, how differently this day isturning out from what I expected! I was in hopes that Egbert could meetme in a little trip to New York, and I find him in prison!"

CHAPTER XV

HALDANE'S RESOLVE

It was not in accordance with nature nor with Haldane's peculiartemperament that he should remain long under a stony paralysis of shameand despair. Though tall and manlike in appearance, he was not a man. Boyish traits and impulses still lingered; indeed, they had beenfostered and maintained longer than usual by a fond and indulgentmother. It was not an evidence of weakness, but rather a wholesomeinstinct of nature, that his thoughts should gradually find courage togo to that mother as his only source of comfort and help. She, at least, would not scorn him, and with her he might find a less dismal refugethan his narrow cell, should it be possible to escape imprisonment. Ifit were not, he was too young and unacquainted with misfortune not tolong for a few kind words of comfort. 

He did not even imagine that Mrs. Arnot, the wife of his employer, wouldcome near him in his deep disgrace. Even the thought of her kindness andhis requital of it now stung him to the quick, and he fairly writhed ashe pictured to himself the scorn that must have been on Laura's face asshe saw him on his way to prison like a common thief. 

As he remembered how full of rich promise life was but a few days since, and how all had changed even more swiftly and unexpectedly than thegrotesque events of a horrid dream, he bowed his head in his hands andsobbed like a grief-stricken child. 

"O mother, mother, " he groaned, "if I could only hear your voice andfeel your touch, a little of this crushing weight might be lifted off myheart!"

Growing calmer after a time, he was able to consider his situation moreconnectedly, and he was about to summon the sheriff in charge of theprison, that he might telegraph his mother, when he heard her voice as, in the company of that official, she was seeking her way to him. 

He shrank back in his cell. His heart beat violently as he heard therustle of her dress. The sheriff unlocked the grated iron door which ledto the long, narrow corridor into which the cells opened, and to whichprisoners had access during the day. 

"He's in that cell, ladies, " said the officer's voice, and then, withcommendable delicacy, withdrew, having first ordered the prisoners inhis charge to their cells. 

"Lean upon my arm, " urged a gentle voice, which Haldane recognized asthat of Mrs. Arnot. 

"O, this is awful!" moaned the stricken woman; "this is more than_I_ can endure. "

The pronoun she used threw a chill on the heart of her son, but when shetottered to the door of his cell he sprang forward with the low, appealing cry:

"Mother!"

But the poor gentlewoman was so overcome that she sank down on a benchby the door, and, with her face buried in her hands, as if to shut out avision that would blast her, she rocked back and forth in anguish, asshe groaned:

"O Egbert, Egbert! you have disgraced me, you have disgraced yoursisters, you have disgraced yourself beyond remedy. O God! what have Idone to merit this awful, this overwhelming disaster?"

With deep pain and solicitude Mrs. Arnot watched the young man's face asthe light from the grated window fell upon it. The appeal that trembledin his voice had been more plainly manifest in his face, which had wornan eager and hopeful expression, and even suggested the spirit of thelittle child when in some painful emergency it turns to its first andnatural protector. 

But most marked was the change caused by the mother's lamentable want oftact and self-control, for that same face became stony and sullen. Instead of showing a spirit which deep distress and crushing disasterhad made almost childlike in its readiness to receive a mother's comfortonce more, he suddenly became, in appearance, a hardened criminal. 

Mrs. Arnot longed to undo by her kindness the evil which her friend wasunwittingly causing, but could not come between mother and son. Shestooped down, however, and whispered:

"Mrs. Haldane, speak kindly to your boy. He looked to you for sympathy. Do not let him feel that you, like the world, are against him. "

"O no, " said Mrs. Haldane, her sobs ceasing somewhat, "I mean to do myduty by him. He shall always have a good home, but oh! what a blight anda shadow he has brought to that home! That I should have ever lived tosee this day! O Egbert, Egbert! your sisters will have to live likenuns, for they can never even go out upon the street again; and to thinkthat the finger of scorn should be pointed after you in the city whereyour father made our name so honorable!"

"It never shall be, " said Haldane coldly. "You have only to leave me inprison to be rid of me a long time. "

"Leave you, in prison!" exclaimed his mother; "I would as soon stay heremyself. No; through Mrs. Arnot's kindness, arrangements are made foryour release. I shall then take you to our miserable home as soon aspossible. "

"I am not going home. "

"Now, this is too much! What will you do?"

"I shall remain in this city, " he replied, speaking from an angryimpulse. "It was here I fell and covered myself with shame, and I shallhere fight my way back to the position I lost. The time shall come whenyou will no longer say I'm a disgrace to you and my sisters. My heartwas breaking, and the first word you greet me with is 'disgrace'; and ifI went home, disgrace would always be in your mind, if not upon yourtongue. I should have the word and thought kept before me till I wentmad. If I go home all my old acquaintances would sneer at me as amean-spirited cur, whose best exploit was to get in jail, and when hismother obtained his release he could do nothing more manly than hidebehind her apron the rest of his days. As far as I can judge, you and mysisters would have no better opinion of me. I have been a wicked fool, Iadmit, but I was not a deliberate thief. I did hope for a little comfortfrom you. But since all the world is against me, I'll face and fight theworld. I have been dragged through these streets, the scorn of everyone, and I will remain in this city until I compel the respect of itsproudest citizen. "

The moment he ceased his passionate utterance, Mrs. Arnot said kindlyand gravely:

"Egbert, you are mistaken. There was no scorn in my eyes, but ratherdeep pity and sorrow. While your course has been very wrong, you have nooccasion to despair, and as long as you will try to become a true manyou shall have my sympathy and friendship. You do not understand yourmother. She loves you as truly as ever, and is willing to make anysacrifice for you. Only, her fuller knowledge of the world makes herrealize more truly than you yet can the consequences of your act. Thesudden shock has overwhelmed her. Her distress shows how deeply she iswounded, and you should try to comfort her by a lifetime of kindness. "

"The best way I can comfort her is by deeds that will wipe out thememory of my disgrace; and, " he continued, his impulsive, sanguinespirit kindling with the thought and prospect, "I will regain all andmore than I have lost. The time shall come when neither she nor mysisters will have occasion to blush for me, nor to seclude themselvesfrom the world because of their relation to me. "

"I should think my heart was sufficiently crushed and broken already, "Mrs. Haldane sobbed, "without your adding to its burden by charging mewith being an unnatural mother. I cannot understand how a boy brought upas religiously as you have been can show such strange depravity. Theidea that a child of mine could do anything which would bring him tosuch a place as this!"

His mother's words and manner seemed to exasperate her son beyondendurance, and he exclaimed passionately:

"Well, curse it all! I am here. What's the use of harping on that anylonger? Can't you listen when I say I want to retrieve myself? As to myreligious bringing up, it never did me a particle of good. If you hadwhipped my infernal nonsense out of me, and made me mind when I waslittle--There, there, mother, " he concluded more considerately, as shebegan to grow hysterical under his words, "do, for God's sake, be morecomposed! We can't help what has happened now. I'll either change theworld's opinion of me, or else get out of it. "

"How can I be composed when you talk in so dreadful a manner? You can'tchange the world's opinion. It never forgives and never forgets. It'sthe same as if you had said, I'll either do what is impossible or throwaway my life!"

"My dear Mrs. Haldane, " said Mrs. Arnot, gently but firmly, "your justand natural grief is such that you cannot now judge correctly and wiselyconcerning this matter. The emergency is so unexpected and so grave thatneither you nor your son should form opinions or make resolves untilthere has been time for calmer thought. Let me take you home with menow, and as soon as Egbert is released he can join you there. "

"No, Mrs. Arnot, " said Haldane decidedly; "I shall never enter yourparlor again until I can enter it as a gentleman--as one whom yourother guests, should I meet them, would recognize as a gentleman. Yourkindness is as great as it is unexpected, but I shall take no meanadvantage of it. "

"Well, then, " said Mrs. Arnot with a sigh, "nothing can be gained byprolonging this painful interview. We are detaining Mr. Melville, anddelaying Egbert's release. Come, Mrs. Haldane; I can take you to theprivate entrance of a quiet hotel, where you can be entirely secludeduntil you are ready to return home. Egbert can come there as soon as theneedful legal forms are complied with. "

"No, " said the young man with his former decision, "mother and I musttake leave of each other here. Mother wants no jail-birds calling on herat the hotel. When I have regained my social footing--when she is readyto take my arm and walk up Main street of this city--then she shall seeme as often as she wishes. It was my own cursed folly that brought me tothe gutter, and if mother will pay the price of my freedom, I will aloneand unaided make my way back among the highest and proudest. "

"I sincerely hope you may win such a position, " said Mrs. Arnot gravely, "and it is not impossible for you to do so, though I wish you would makethe attempt in a different spirit; but please remember that theseconsiderations do not satisfy and comfort a mother's heart. You shouldthink of all her past kindness; you should realize how deeply you havenow wounded her, and strive with tenderness and patience to mitigate theblow. "

"Mother, I am sorry, more sorry than you can ever know, " he said, advancing to her side and taking her hand, "and I have been bitterlypunished; but I did not mean to do what I did; I was drunk--"

"Drunk!" gasped the mother, "merciful Heaven!"

"Yes, drunk--may the next drop of wine I take choke me!--and I did notknow what I was doing. But do not despair of me. I feel that I have itin me to make a man yet. Go now with Mrs. Arnot, and aid in her kindefforts to procure my release. When you have succeeded, return home, andthink of me as well as you can until I make you think better, " and heraised and kissed her with something like tenderness, and then placedwithin Mrs. Arnot's arm the hand of the poor weak woman, who had becomeso faint and exhausted from her conflicting emotions that she submittedto be led away after a feeble remonstrance. 

Mrs. Arnot sent Mr. Melville to the prisoner, and also the food she hadbrought. She then took Mrs. Haldane to a hotel, where, in the seclusionof her room, she could have every attention and comfort. With manyreassuring words she promised to call later in the day, and if possiblebring with her the unhappy cause of the poor gentlewoman's distress. 

CHAPTER XVI

THE IMPULSES OF WOUNDED PRIDE

That which at first was little more than an impulse, caused by woundedpride, speedily developed into a settled purpose, and Haldane wouldleave his prison cell fully bent on achieving great things. Inaccordance with a tendency in impulsive natures, he reacted fromsomething like despair into quite a sanguine and heroic mood. He would"face and fight the world, ay, and conquer it, too. " He would go outinto the streets which had witnessed his disgrace, and, penniless, empty-handed, dowered only with shame, he would prove his manhood bywinning a position that would compel respect and more than respect. 

Mrs. Arnot, who returned immediately to the prison, was puzzled to knowhow to deal with him. She approved of his resolution to remain inHillaton, and of his purpose to regain respect and position on the veryspot, as it were, where, by his crime and folly, he had lost both. Shewas satisfied that such a course promised far better for the future thana return to his mother's luxurious home. With all its beauty and comfortit would become to him almost inevitably a slough, both of "despond" andof dissipation--dissipation of the worst and most hopeless kind, wherein the victim's ruling motive is to get rid of self. The fact thatthe young man was capable of turning upon and facing a scornful andhostile world was a good and hopeful sign. If he had been willing toslink away with his mother, bent only on escape from punishment and onthe continuance of animal enjoyment, Mrs. Arnot would have felt that hisnature was not sufficiently leavened with manhood to give hope ofreform. 

But while his action did suggest hope, it also contained elements ofdiscouragement. She did not find fault with what he proposed to do, butwith the spirit in which he was entering on his most difficult task. Hisknowledge of the world was so crude and partial that he did not at allrealize the herculean labor that he now became eager to attempt; and hewas bent on accomplishing everything in a way that would minister to hisown pride, and proposed to be under obligations to no one. 

Mrs. Arnot, with her deep and long experience, knew how vitallyimportant it is that human endeavor should be supplemented by divineaid, and she sighed deeply as she saw that the young man not onlyignored this need, but did not even seem conscious of it. Religion wasto him a matter of form and profession, to which he was utterlyindifferent. The truth that God helps the distressed as a father helpsand comforts his child, was a thought that then made no impression onhim whatever. God and all relating to him were abstractions, and he feltthat the emergency was too pressing, too imperative, for considerationsthat had no practical and immediate bearing upon his present success. 

Indeed, such was his pride and self-confidence, that he refused toreceive from Mrs. Arnot, and even from his mother, anything more thanthe privilege of going out empty-handed into the city which was tobecome the arena of his future exploits. 

He told Mrs. Arnot the whole story, and she had hoped that she couldplace his folly and crime before him in its true moral aspects, and bydealing faithfully, yet kindly, with him, awaken his conscience. But shehad the tact to discover very soon that such effort was now worse thanuseless. It was not his conscience, but his pride, that had been chieflywounded. He felt his disgrace, his humiliation, in the eyes of menalmost too keenly, and he was consumed with desire to regain society'sfavor. But he did not feel his sin. To God's opinion of him he scarcelygave a thought. He regarded his wrong act in the light of a sudden andgrave misfortune rather than as the manifestation of a foul and inherentdisease of his soul. He had lost his good name as a man loses hisproperty, and believed that he, in his own strength, and without anymoral change, could regain it. 

When parting at the prison, Mrs. Arnot gave him her hand, and said:

"I trust that your hopes may be realized, and your efforts meet withsuccess; but I cannot help warning you that I fear you do not realizewhat you are attempting. The world is not only very cold, but alsosuspicious and wary in its disposition toward those who have forfeitedits confidence. I cannot learn that you have any definite plans orprospects. I have never been able to accomplish much without God's help. You not only seem to forget your need of Him, but you are not evenwilling to receive aid from me or your own mother. I honor and respectyou for making the attempt upon which you are bent, but I fear thatpride rather than wisdom is your counsellor in carrying out yourresolution; and both God's word and human experience prove that pridegoes but a little way before a fall. "

"I have reached a depth, " replied Haldane, bitterly, "from whence Icannot fall; and it will be hereafter some consolation to remember thatI was not lifted out of the mire, but that I got out. If I cannot climbup again it were better I perished in the gutter of my shame. "

"I am sorry, Egbert, that you cut yourself off from the most hopeful andhelpful relations which you can ever sustain. A father helps hischildren through their troubles, and so God is desirous of helping us. There are some things which we cannot do alone--it is not meant that weshould. God is ever willing to help those who are down, and Christiansare not worthy of the name unless they are also willing. It is our dutyto make every effort of which we ourselves are capable; but this is onlyhalf our duty. Since our tasks are beyond our strength and ability, weare equally bound to receive such human aid as God sends us, and, chiefof all, to ask daily, and sometimes hourly, that His strength be madeperfect in our weakness. But there are some lessons which are onlylearned by experience. I shall feel deeply grieved if you do not come orsend for me in any emergency or time of special need. In parting, I haveone favor to ask, and I think I have a right to ask it. I wish you to goand see your mother, and spend at least an hour with her before shereturns home. As a matter of manly duty, be kind and gentle. Rememberhow deeply you have wounded her, and that you are under the most sacredobligations to endure patiently all reproaches and expressions of grief. If you will do this you will do much to regain my respect, and it willbe a most excellent step toward a better life. You can gain society'srespect again only by doing your duty, and nothing can be duty moreplainly than this. "

After a moment's hesitation he said, "I do not think an interview withmother now will do either of us any good; but, as you say, you have aright to ask this, and much more, of me. I will go to her hotel and dothe best I can; but somehow mother don't understand human nature--or, atleast, my nature--and when I have been doing wrong she always makes mefeel like doing worse. "

"If you are to succeed in your endeavor you are not to act as you feel. _You are to do right. _ Remember that in your effort to win the positionyou wish in this city, you start with at least one friend to whom youcan always come. Good-by, " and Mrs. Arnot returned home weary and sadfrom the day's unforeseen experiences. 

In answer to Laura's eager questioning, she related what had happenedquite fully, veiling only that which a delicate regard for others wouldlead her to pass in silence. She made the young girl womanly by treatingher more as a woman and a companion than as a child. In Mrs. Arnot'sestimation her niece had reached an age when her innocence andsimplicity could not be maintained by efforts to keep her shallow andignorant, but by revealing to her life in its reality, so that she mightwisely and gladly choose the good from its happy contrast with evil andits inevitable suffering. 

The innocence that walks blindly on amid earth's snares and pitfalls isan uncertain possession; the innocence that recognizes evil, but turnsfrom it with dread and aversion, is priceless. 

Mrs. Arnot told Laura the story of the young man's folly substantiallyas he had related it to her, but she skilfully showed how onecomparatively venial thing had led to another, until an act had beencommitted which might have resulted in years of imprisonment. 

"Let this sad and miserable affair teach you, " said she, "that we arenever safe when we commence to do wrong or act foolishly. We can nevertell to what disastrous lengths we may go when we leave the path ofsimple duty. "

While she mentioned Haldane's resolution to regain, if possible, hisgood name and position, she skilfully removed from the maiden's mind allromantic notions concerning the young man and her relation to hisconduct. 

Laura's romantic nature would always be a source both of strength andweakness. While, on the one hand, it rendered her incapable of a sordidand calculating scheme of life, on the other, it might lead to feelingand action prejudicial to her happiness. Mrs. Arnot did not intend thatshe should brood over Haldane until her vivid imagination should weave anet out of his misfortunes which might insnare her heart. It was bestfor Laura that she should receive her explanations of life in very plainprose, and the picture that her aunt presented of Haldane and hisprospects was prosaic indeed. He was shown to be but an ordinary youngman, with more than ordinarily bad tendencies. While she commended hiseffort in itself, she plainly stated how wanting it was in the trueelements of success, and how great were her fears that it would meetwith utter failure. Thus the affair ended, as far as Laura wasconcerned, in a sincere pity for her premature lover, and a mild andnatural interest in his future welfare--but nothing more. 

Mr. Arnot uttered an imprecation on learning that his wife had gonesecurity for Haldane. But when he found that she had acted through Mr. Melville, in such a way that the fact need not become known, heconcluded to remain silent concerning the matter. He and his wife met atthe dinner-table that evening as if nothing unusual had occurred, bothhaving concluded to ignore all that had transpired, if possible. Mrs. Arnot saw that her husband had only acted characteristically, and, fromhis point of view, correctly. Perhaps his recent experience wouldprevent him from being unduly harsh again should there ever be similarcause, which was quite improbable. Since it appeared that she couldminister to his happiness in no other way save through her property, shedecided to leave him the one meagre gratification of which he wascapable. 

The future in its general aspects may here be anticipated by brieflystating that the echoes of the affair gradually died away. Mr. Arnot, onthe receipt of a check for one thousand dollars from Mrs. Haldane'slawyer, was glad to procure Mr. Melville's release from the bond forwhich his wife was pledged, by assuring the legal authorities that hewould not prosecute. The superior young man, who made free drinks theambition of his life, had kept himself well informed, and on learning ofthe order for his arrest left town temporarily for parts unknown. Thepapers made the most of the sensation, to the disgust of all concerned, but reference to the affair soon dwindled down to an occasionalparagraph. The city press concluded editorially that the greatmanufacturer had been harsh only seemingly, for the sake of effect, andwith the understanding that his wife would show a little balancingkindness to the culprit and his aristocratic mother. That Haldane shouldstill remain in the city was explained on the ground that he was ashamedto go home, or that he was not wanted there. 

CHAPTER XVII

AT ODDS WITH THE WORLD

Haldane kept his promise to spend an hour with his mother. While he toldher the truth concerning his folly, he naturally tried to place hisaction in the best light possible. After inducing her to take someslight refreshment, he obtained a close carriage, and saw her safely onthe train which would convey her to the city wherein she resided. Duringthe interview she grew much more composed, and quite remorseful that shehad not shown greater consideration for her son's feelings, and sheurged and even entreated him to return home with her. He remained firm, however, in his resolution, and would receive from her only a very smallsum of money, barely enough to sustain him until he could look aroundfor employment. 

His mother shared Mrs. Arnot's distrust, greatly doubting the issue ofhis large hopes and vague plans; but she could only assure him that herhome, to which she returned crushed and disconsolate, was also his. 

But he felt that return was impossible. He would rather wander to theends of the earth than shut himself up with his mother and sisters, forhe foresaw that their daily moans and repinings would be daily torture. It would be even worse to appear among his old acquaintances andcompanions, and be taunted with the fact that his first venture fromhome ended in a common jail. The plan of drifting away to parts unknown, and of partially losing his identity by changing his name, made a cold, dreary impression upon him, like the thought of annihilation, and thushis purpose of remaining in Hillaton, and winning victory on the veryground of his defeat, grew more satisfactory. 

But he soon began to learn how serious, how disheartening, is thecondition of one who finds society arrayed against him. 

It is the fashion to inveigh against the "cold and pitiless world"; butthe world has often much excuse for maintaining this character. Associety is now constituted, the consequences of wrong-doing are usuallyterrible and greatly to be dreaded; and all who have unhealthfulcravings for forbidden things should be made to realize this. Societyvery naturally treats harshly those who permit their pleasures andpassions to endanger its very existence. People who have toilsomely andpatiently erected their homes and placed therein their treasures do nottolerate with much equanimity those who appear to have no other callingthan that of recklessly playing with fire. The well-to-do, conservativeworld has no inclination to make things pleasant for those who proposeto gratify themselves at any and every cost; and if the culprit pleads, "I did not realize--I meant no great harm, " the retort comes back, "Butyou do the harm; you endanger everything. If you have not sense orprinciple enough to act wisely and well, do not expect us to risk ourfortunes with either fools or knaves. " And the man or the woman who haspreferred pleasure or passing gratification or transient advantage tothat priceless possession, a good name, has little ground for complaint. If society readily condoned those grave offences which threaten chaos, thousands who are now restrained by salutary fear would act outdisastrously the evil lurking in their hearts. As long as the instinctof self-preservation remains, the world will seem cold and pitiless. 

But it often is so to a degree that cannot be too severely condemned. The world is the most soulless of all corporations. In dealing with thecriminal or unfortunate classes it generalizes to such an extent thatexceptional cases have little chance of a special hearing. If by anymeans, however, such a hearing can be obtained, the world is usuallyjust, and often quite generous. But in the main it says to all: "Keepyour proper places in the ranks. If you fall out, we must leave youbehind; if you make trouble, we must abate you as a nuisance. " Thiscertainty has the effect of keeping many in their places who otherwisewould drop out and make trouble, and is, so far, wholesome. And yet, inspite of this warning truth, the wayside of life is lined with thosewho, for some reason, have become disabled and have fallen out of theirplaces; and miserably would many of them perish did not the Spirit ofHim who came "to seek and save the lost" animate true followers likeMrs. Arnot, leading them likewise to go out after the lame, the wounded, and the morally leprous. 

Haldane was sorely wounded, but he chose to make his appeal wholly tothe world. Ignoring Heaven, and those on earth representing Heaven'sforgiving and saving mercy, he went out alone, in the spirit of prideand self-confidence, to deal with those who would meet him solely on theground of self-interest. How this law works against such as have shownthemselves unworthy of trust, he at once began to receive abundantproof. 

He returned to the hotel whence he had just taken his mother, but theproprietor declined to give him lodgings. It was a house that cherishedits character for quietness and eminent respectability, and a younggambler and embezzler just out of prison would prove an ill-omenedguest. On receiving a cold and peremptory refusal to his application, and in the presence of several others, Haldane stalked haughtily away;but there was misgiving and faintness at his heart. Such a public rebuffwas a new and strange experience. 

With set teeth and lips compressed he next resolved to go to the veryhotel where he had committed his crime, and from that starting-pointfight his way up. He found the public room more than usually well filledwith loungers, and could not help discovering, as he entered, that hewas the subject of their loud and unsavory conversation. The "EveningSpy" had just been read, and all were very busy discussing the scandal. As the knowledge of his presence and identity was speedily conveyed toone and another in loud whispers, the noisy tongues ceased, and theyoung man found himself the centre of an embarrassing amount ofobservation. But he endeavored to give the idlers a defiant and carelessglance as he walked up to the proprietor and asked for a room. 

"No, sir!" replied that virtuous individual, with sharp emphasis; "youhave had a room of me once too often. It's not my way to have gamblers, bloats, and jail-birds hanging around my place--'not if the court knowsherself; and she thinks she does. ' You've done all you could to give myrespectable, first-class house the name of a low gambling hell. Theevening paper even hints that someone connected with the house had ahand in your being plucked. You've damaged me hundreds of dollars, andif you ever show your face within my doors again I'll have youarrested. "

Haldane was stung to the quick, and retorted vengefully:

"Perhaps the paper is right. I was introduced to the blacklegs in yourbar-room, and by a scamp who was a habitual lounger here. They got theircards of you, and, having made me drunk, and robbed me in one of yourrooms, they had no trouble in getting away. "

"Do you make any such charge against me?" bellowed the landlord, starting savagely forward. 

"I say, as the paper says, _perhaps_, " replied Haldane, standinghis ground, but quivering with rage. "I shall give you no ground for alibel suit; but if you will come out in the street you shall have allthe satisfaction you want; and if you lay the weight of your finger onme here. I'll damage you worse than I did last night. "

"How dare you come here to insult me?" said the landlord, but keepingnow at a safe distance from the incensed youth. "Some one, go for apoliceman, for the fellow is out of jail years too soon. "

"I did not come here to insult you, I came, as every one has a right tocome, to ask for a room, for which I meant to pay your price, and youinsulted me. "

"Well, you can't have a room. "

"If you had quietly said that and no more in the first place, therewould have been no trouble. But I want you and every one else tounderstand that I won't be struck, if I am down;" and he turned on hisheel and strode out of the house, followed by a volley of curses fromthe enraged landlord and the bartender, who had smirked so agreeably theevening before. 

A distorted account of this scene--published in the "Courier" thefollowing day, in connection with a detailed account of the wholemiserable affair--added considerably to the ill repute that alreadyburdened Haldane; for it was intimated that he was as ready for a streetbrawl as for any other species of lawlessness. 

The "Courier, " having had the nose of its representative demolished byHaldane, was naturally prejudiced against him; and, influenced by itsdarkly-colored narrative, the citizens shook their heads over the youngman, and concluded that he was a dangerous character, who had becomeunnaturally and precociously depraved; and there was quite a generalhope that Mr. Arnot would not fail to prosecute, so that the town mightbe rid of one who promised to continue a source of trouble. 

The "Spy" a rival paper, showed a tendency to dwell on the extenuatingcircumstances. But it is so much easier for a community to believe evilrather than good of a person, that mere excuses and apologies, and thesuggestion that the youth had been victimized, had little weight. Besides, the world shows a tendency to detest weak fools even more thanknaves. 

After his last bitter experience Haldane felt unwilling to venture toanother hotel, and he endeavored to find a quiet boarding-place; but assoon as he mentioned his name, the keepers, male and female, suddenlydiscovered that they had no rooms. Night was near, and his courage wasbeginning to fail him, when he at last found a thrifty gentlewoman whogave far more attention to her housewifely cares than to the currentnews. She readily received the well-dressed stranger, and showed him tohis room. Haldane did not hide his name from her, for he resolved tospend the night in the street before dropping a name which now seemed toturn people from him as if contagion lurked in it, and he was relievedto find that, as yet, it had to her no disgraceful associations. He wasbent on securing one good night's rest, and so excused himself fromgoing down to supper, lest he should meet some one that knew him. Afternightfall he slipped out to an obscure restaurant for his supper. 

His precaution, however, was vain, for on his return to his room heencountered in a hallway one of the loungers who had witnessed therecent scene at the hotel. After a second's stare the man passed on downto the shabby-genteel parlor, and soon whist, novels, and papers weredropped, as the immaculate little community learned of the contaminatingpresence beneath the same roof with themselves. 

"A man just out of prison! A man merely released on bail, and who wouldcertainly be convicted and tried!"

With a virtue which might have put "Caesar's wife" to the blush, sereand withered gentlewomen pursed up their mouths, and declared that theycould not sleep in the same house with such a disreputable person. Thethrifty landlady, whose principle of success was the concentration ofall her faculties on the task of satisfying the digestive organs of herpatrons, found herself for once at fault, and she was quite surprised tolearn what a high-toned class of people she was entertaining. 

But, then, "business is business. " Poor Haldane was but one uncertainlodger, and here were a dozen or more "regulars" arrayed against him. The sagacious woman was not long in climbing to the door of theobnoxious guest, and her very knock said, "What are you doing here?"

Haldane's first thought was, "She is a woman; she will not have theheart to turn me away. " He had become so weary and disheartened that hispride was failing him, and he was ready to plead for the chance of alittle rest. Therefore he opened the door, and invited the landlady toenter in the most conciliating manner. But no such poor chaff would beof any avail with one of Mrs. Gruppins' experience, and looking straightbefore her, as if addressing no one in particular, she saidsententiously:

"I wish this room vacated within a half-hour. "

"If you have the heart of a woman you will not send me out this rainynight. I am weary and sick in body and mind. I wouldn't turn a dog outin the night and storm. "

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, sir, " said Mrs. Gruppins, turningon him indignantly; "to think that you should take advantage of a poorand defenceless widow, and me so inexperienced and ignorant of thewicked world. "

"I did not take advantage of your ignorance: I told you who I was, andam able to pay for the room. In the morning I will leave your house, ifyou have so much objection to my remaining. "

"Why shouldn't I object? I never had such as you here before. All myboarders"--she added in a louder tone, for the benefit of those who werelistening at the foot of the stairs--"all my boarders are peculiarlyrespectable people, and I would not have them scandalized by yourpresence here another minute if I could help it. "

"How much do I owe you?" asked Haldane, in a tone that was harsh fromits suppressed emotion. 

"I don't want any of your money--I don't want anything to do with peoplewho are lodged at the expense of the State. If you took money lastnight, there is no telling what you will take to-night. "

Haldane snatched his hat and rushed from the house, overwhelmed with adeeper and more terrible sense of shame and degradation than he had everimagined possible. He had become a pariah, and in bitterness of heartwas realizing the truth. 

CHAPTER XVIII

THE WORLD'S VERDICT--OUR KNIGHT A CRIMINAL

A few moments before his interview with the thrifty and respectable Mrs. Gruppins, Haldane had supposed himself too weary to drag one foot afterthe other in search of another resting-place; and therefore his eagerhope that that obdurate female might not be gifted with the same qualityof "in'ards" which Pat M'Cabe ascribed to Mr. Arnot. He had, indeed, nearly reached the limit of endurance, for had he been in his best andmost vigorous condition, a day which taxed so terribly both body andmind would have drained his vitality to the point of exhaustion. As itwas, the previous night's debauch told against him like a term ofillness. He had since taken food insufficiently and irregularly, andwas, therefore, in no condition to meet the extraordinary demands of theordeal through which he was passing. Mental distress, moreover, is farmore wearing than physical effort, and his anguish of mind had risenseveral times during the day almost to frenzy. 

In spite of all this, the sharp and pitiless tongue of Mrs. Gruppinsgoaded him again to the verge of desperation, and he strode rapidly andaimlessly away, through the night and storm, with a wilder tempestraging in his breast. But the gust of feeling died away as suddenly asit had arisen, and left him ill and faint. A telegraph pole was near, and he leaned against it for support. 

"Move on, " growled a passing policeman. 

"Will you do me a kindness?" asked Haldane; "I am poor and sick--astranger. Tell me where I can hire a bed for a small sum. "

The policeman directed him down a side street, saying, "You can get abed at No. 13, and no questions asked. "

There was unspeakable comfort in the last assurance, for it now seemedthat he could hope to find a refuge only in places where "no questionswere asked. "

With difficulty the weary youth reached the house, and by paying a smallextra sum was able to obtain a wretched little room to himself; butnever did storm-tossed and endangered sailors enter a harbor's quietwaters with a greater sense of relief than did Haldane as he crept upinto this squalid nook, which would at least give him a little respitefrom the world's terrible scorn. 

What a priceless gift for the unhappy, the unfortunate--yes, and forthe guilty--is sleep! Many seem to think of the body only as a clog, impeding mental action--as a weight, chaining the spirit down. Were themind, in its activity, independent of the body--were the wounded spiritunable to forget its pain--could the guilty conscience stingincessantly--then the chief human industry would come to be the erectionof asylums for the insane. But by an unfathomable mystery the tirelessregal spirit has been blended with the flesh and blood of its servant, the body. In heaven, where there is neither sin nor pain, even the bodybecomes spiritual; but on earth, where it so often happens, as in thecase of poor Haldane, that to think and to remember is torture, it is ablessed thing that the body, formed from the earth, often becomes heavyas earth, and rests upon the spirit for a few hours at least, like theclods with which we fill the grave. 

The morning of the following day was quite well advanced when Haldaneawoke from his long oblivion, and, after regaining consciousness, he laya full hour longer trying to realize his situation, and to think of someplan by which he might best recover his lost position. As he recalledall that had occurred he began to understand the extreme difficulty ofhis task, and he even queried whether it were possible for him tosucceed. If the respectable would not even give him shelter, how couldhe hope that they would employ and trust him?

After he had partaken of quite a hearty breakfast, however, his fortunesbegan to wear a less forbidding aspect. Endowed with youth, health, and, as he believed, with more than usual ability, he felt that there wasscarcely occasion for despair. Some one would employ him--some one wouldgive him another chance. He would take any respectable work that wouldgive him a foothold, and by some vague, fortunate means, which theimagination of the young always supplies, he would achieve success thatwould obliterate the memory of the past. Therefore, with flashes of hopein his heart, he started out to seek his fortune, and commenced applyingat the various stores and offices of the city. 

So far from giving any encouragement, people were much surprised that hehad the assurance to ask to be employed and trusted again. The majoritydismissed him coldly and curtly. A few mongrel natures, true tothemselves, gave a snarling refusal. Then there were jovial spirits whomust have their jest, even though the sensitive subject of it wastortured thereby--men who enjoyed quizzing Haldane before sending himon, as much as the old inquisitors relished a little recreation with hotpincers and thumb-screws. There were also conscientious people, whoseworldly prudence prevented them from giving employment to one so damagedin character, and yet who felt constrained to give some good advice. Tothis, it must be confessed, Haldane listened with very poor grace, thusextending the impression that he was a rather hopeless subject. 

"Good God!" he exclaimed, interrupting an old gentleman who wasindulging in some platitudes to the effect that the "way of thetransgressor is hard"--"I would rather black your boots than listen tosuch talk. What I want is work--a chance to live honestly. What's theuse of telling a fellow not to go to the devil, and then practicallysend him to the devil?"

The old gentleman was somewhat shocked and offended, and coldlyintimated that he had no need of the young man's services. 

A few spoke kindly and seemed truly sorry for him, but they either hadno employment to give, or, on business principles, felt that they couldnot introduce among their other assistants one under bonds to appear andbe tried for a State-prison offence that was already the same as proved. 

After receiving rebuffs, and often what he regarded as insults, forhours, the young man's hope began to fail him utterly. His face grewpale and haggard, not only from fatigue, but from that which tellsdisastrously almost as soon upon the body as upon the mind--discouragement. He saw that he had not yet fully realized the consequences of his folly. The deep and seemingly implacable resentment of society was a continuedsurprise. He was not conscious of being a monster of wickedness, and itseemed to him that after his bitter experience he would rather starvethan again touch what was not his own. 

But the trouble is, the world does not give us much credit for what wethink, feel, and imagine, even if aware of our thoughts. It is what we_do_ that forms public opinion; and it was both natural and just thatthe public should have a very decided opinion of one who had recentlyshown himself capable of gambling, drunkenness, and practical theft. 

And yet the probabilities were that if some kind, just man had bestowedupon Haldane both employment and trust, with a chance to rise, hisbitter lesson would have made him scrupulously careful to shun hispeculiar temptations from that time forward. But the world usuallyregards one who has committed a crime as a criminal, and treats him assuch. It cannot, if it would, nicely calculate the hidden moral stateand future chances. It acts on sound generalities, regardless of theexceptions; and thus it often happens that men and women who at firstcan scarcely understand the world's adverse opinion, are disheartened byit, and at last come to merit the worst that can be said or thought. 

As, at the time of his first arrest, Haldane had found his eyes drawn bya strange, cruel fascination to every scornful or curious face upon thestreet, so now he began to feel a morbid desire to know just what peoplewere saying and thinking of him. He purchased both that day's papers andthose of the previous day, and, finding a little out-of-the-wayrestaurant kept by a foreigner, he "supped full with"--what were to himemphatically--"horrors"; the dinner and supper combined, which he hadordered, growing cold, in the meantime, and as uninviting as the placein which it was served. 

His eyes dwelt longest upon those sentences which were the mostunmercifully severe, and they seemed to burn their way into his verysoul. Was he in truth such a miscreant as the "Courier" described? Mrs. Arnot had not shrunk from him as from contamination; but she wasdifferent from all other people that he had known; and he nowremembered, also, that even she always referred to his act in a grave, troubled way, as if both its character and consequences were seriousindeed. 

There was such a cold, leaden despondency burdening his heart that hefelt that he must have relief of some kind. Although remembering hisrash invocation of fatal consequences to himself should he touch againthat which had brought him so much evil, he now, with a reckless oath, muttered that he "needed some liquor, and would have it. "

Having finished a repast from which he would have turned in disgustbefore his fortunes had so greatly altered, and having gained a littletemporary courage from the more than doubtful brandy served in such aplace, he obtained permission to sit by the fire and smoke away theblustering evening, for he felt no disposition to face the world againthat day. The German proprietor and his beer-drinking patrons paid noattention to the stranger, and as he sat off on one side by himself at atable, with a mug of lager before him, he was practically as much alone, and as lonely, as if in a desert. 

In a dull, vague way it occurred to him that it was very fitting thatthose present should speak in a foreign and unknown tongue, and act andlook differently from all classes of people formerly known to him. Hewas in a different world, and it was appropriate that everything shouldappear strange and unfamiliar. 

Finding that he could have a room in this same little, dingyrestaurant-hotel, where he had obtained his supper, he resolved that hewould torture himself no more that night with thoughts of the past orfuture, but slowly stupefy himself into sleep. 

CHAPTER XIX

THE WORLD'S BEST OFFER--A PRISON

After a walk in the sweet April sunshine the following morning, a heartybreakfast, and a general rallying of the elastic forces of youth, Haldane felt that he had not yet reached the "brink of dark despair. "

Indeed, he had an odd sense of pride that he had survived the ordeal ofthe last two days, and still felt as well as he did. Although it was butan Arab's life, in which every man's hand seemed against him, yet hestill lived, and concluded that he could continue to live indefinitely. 

He did not go out again, as on the previous day, to seek employment, butsat down and tried to think his way into the future somewhat. 

The first question that presented itself was, Should he in anycontingency return home to his mother?

He was not long in deciding adversely, for it seemed to him to involvesuch a bitter mortification that he felt he would rather starve. 

Should he send to her for money?

That would be scarcely less humiliating, for it was equivalent to aconfession that he could not even take care of himself, much lessachieve all the brave things he had intimated. He was still more averseto going to Mrs. Arnot for what would seem charity to her husband and toevery one else who might hear of it. The probability, also, that Laurawould learn of such an appeal for aid made him scout the very thought. 

Should he go away among strangers, change his name, and commence lifeanew, unburdened by the weight which now dragged him down?

The thought of cutting himself off utterly from all whom he knew, or whocared for him, caused a cold, shivering sense of dread. It would, also, be a confession of defeat, an acknowledgment that he could notaccomplish what he had promised to himself and to others. He had, moreover, sufficient forethought to perceive that any success which hemight achieve elsewhere, and under another name, would be such a slightand baseless fabric that a breath from one who now knew him couldoverturn it. He might lead an honorable life for years, and yet no onewould believe him honorable after discovering that he was living underan _alias_ and concealing a crime. If he could build himself up inHillaton he would be founded on the rock of truth, and need fear nodisastrous reverses from causes against which he could not guard. 

Few can be more miserable than those who hold their fortunes and goodname on sufferance--safe only in the power and disposition of others tokeep some wretched secret; and he is but little better off who fearsthat every stranger arriving in town may recognize in his face thefeatures of one that, years before, by reason of some disgraceful act, fled from himself and all who knew him. The more Haldane thought uponthe scheme of losing his identity, and of becoming that vague, and, asyet, unnamed stranger, who after years of exile would still be himself, though to the world not himself, the less attractive it became. 

He finally concluded that, as he had resolved to remain in Hillaton, hewould keep his resolution, and that, as he had plainly stated hispurpose to lift himself up by his own unaided efforts, he would do so ifit were possible; and if it were not, he would live the life of alaborer--a tramp, even--rather than "skulk back, " as he expressed it, tothose who were once kindred and companions. 

"If I cannot walk erect to their front doors, I will never crawl aroundto the back entrances. If I ever must take to keep from starving, itwill be from strangers. I shall never inflict myself as a dead weightand a painfully tolerated infamy on any one. I was able to get myselfinto this disgusting slough, and if I haven't brains and pluck enough toget myself out, I will remain at this, my level, to which I havefallen. "

Thus pride still counselled and controlled, and yet it was a kind ofpride that inspires something like respect. It proved that there wasmuch good metal in the crude, misshapen ore of his nature. 

But the necessity of doing something was urgent, for the sum he had beenwilling to receive from his mother was small, and rapidly diminishing. 

Among the possible activities in which he might engage, that of writingfor papers and magazines occurred to him, and the thought at once caughtand fired his imagination. The mysteries of the literary world were theleast known to him, and therefore it offered the greatest amount ofvague promise and indefinite hope. Here a path might open to both fameand fortune. The more he dwelt on the possibility the more it seemed totake the aspect of probability. Under the signature of E. H. He wouldwrite thrilling tales, until the public insisted upon knowing the greatunknown. Then he could reverse present experience by scorning those whohad scorned him. He recalled all that he had ever read about geniustoiling in its attic until the world was compelled to recognize and dohomage to the regal mind. He would remain in seclusion also; he wouldburn midnight oil until he should come to be known as Haldane thebrilliant writer instead of Haldane the gambler, drunkard, and thief. 

All on fire with his new project, he sallied forth to the nearestnews-stand, and selected two or three papers and magazines, whoseprevious interest to him and known popularity suggested that they werethe best mediums in which he could rise upon the public as a literarystar, all the more attractive because unnamed and unknown. 

His next proceeding indicated a commendable amount of shrewdness, andproved that his roseate visions resulted more from ignorance andinexperience than from innate foolishness. He carefully read theperiodicals he had bought, in the hope of obtaining hints andsuggestions from their contents which would aid him in producingacceptable manuscripts. Some of the sketches and stories appeared verysimple, the style flowing along as smoothly and limpidly as a summerbrook through the meadows. He did not see why he could not write in asimilar vein, perhaps more excitingly and interestingly. In his partialand neglected course of study he had not given much attention to_belles-lettres_, and was not aware that the simplicity and lucidpurity of thought which made certain pages so easily read were producedby the best trained and most cultured talent existing among the regularcontributors. 

He spent the evening and the greater part of a sleepless night inconstructing a crude plot of a story, and, having procured writingmaterials, hastened through an early breakfast, the following morning, in his eagerness to enter on what now seemed a shining path to fame. 

He sat down and dipped his pen in ink. The blank, white page was beforehim, awaiting his brilliant and burning thoughts; but for some reasonthey did not and would not come. This puzzled him. He could dash off aletter, and write with ease a plain business statement. Why could he notcommence and go on with his story?

"How do those other fellows commence?" he mentally queried, and he againcarefully read and examined the opening paragraphs of two or three talesthat had pleased him. They seemed to commence and go forward very easilyand naturally. Why could not he do the same?

To his dismay he found that he could not. He might as well have sat downand hoped to have deftly and skilfully constructed a watch as to haveimitated the style of the stories that most interested him, for he hadnever formed even the power, much less the habit, of composition. 

After a few labored and inconsequential sentences, which seemed likecrude ore instead of the molten, burning metal of thought left to coolin graceful molds, he threw aside his pen in despair. 

After staring despondently for a time at the blank page, which nowpromised to remain as blank as the future then seemed, the fact suddenlyoccurred to him that even genius often spurred its flagging or dormantpowers by stimulants. Surely, then, he, in his pressing emergency, had aright to avail himself of this aid. A little brandy might awaken hisimagination, which would then kindle with his theme. 

At any rate, he had no objection to the brandy, and with thisinspiration he again resumed his pen. He was soon astonished anddelighted with the result, for he found himself writing with ease andfluency. His thoughts seemed to become vivid and powerful, and his storygrew rapidly. As body and mind flagged, the potent genii in the blackbottle again lifted and soared on with him until the marvellous tale wascompleted. 

He decided to correct the manuscript on the following day, and was socomplacent and hopeful over his performance that he scarcely noted thathe was beginning to feel wretchedly from the inevitable reaction. Thenext day, with dull and aching head he tried to read what he hadwritten, but found it dreary and disappointing work. His sentences andparagraphs appeared like clouds from which the light had faded; but heexplained this fact to himself on the ground of his depressed physicalstate, and he went through his task with dogged persistence. 

He felt better on the following day, and with the aid of the bottle heresolved to give his inventive genius another flight. On this occasionhe would attempt a longer story--one that would occupy him severaldays--and he again stimulated himself up to a condition in which hefound at least no lack of words. When he attained what he supposed washis best mood, he read over again the work of the preceding day, and wasdelighted to find that it now glowed with prismatic hues. In hiscomplacence he at once despatched it to the paper for which it wasdesigned. 

Three or four days of alternate work and brooding passed, and if variousand peculiar moods prove the possession of genius, Haldane certainlymight claim it. Between his sense of misfortune and disgrace, and thefact that his funds were becoming low, on one hand, and his toweringhopes and shivering fears concerning his literary ventures, on theother, he was emphatically in what is termed "a state of mind"continuously. These causes alone were sufficient to make mental serenityimpossible; but the after-effects of the decoction from which heobtained his inspiration were even worse, and after a week's work thethought occurred to him more than once that if he pursued a literarylife, either his genius or that which he imbibed as its spur wouldconsume him utterly. 

By the time the first two stories were finished he found that it wouldbe necessary to supplement the labors of his pen. He would have to waitat least a few days before he could hope for any returns, even though hehad urged in his accompanying notes prompt acceptance and remittance fortheir value. 

He went to the office of the "Evening Spy, " the paper which had shownsome lenience toward him, and offered his services as writer, orreporter; and, although taught by harsh experience not to hope for verymuch, he was a little surprised at the peremptory manner in which hisservices were declined. His face seemed to ask an explanation, and theeditor said briefly:

"We did not bear down very hard on you--it's not our custom; but bothinclination and necessity lead us to require that every one andeverything connected with this paper should be eminently respectable anddeserving of respect. Good-morning, sir. "

Haldane's pre-eminence consisted only in his lack of respectability; andafter the brave visions of the past week, based on his literary toil, this cool, sharp-cut statement of society's opinion quenched about allhope of ever rising by first gaining recognition and employment amongthose whose position was similar to what his own had been. As he ploddedhis way back to the miserable little foreign restaurant, his mind beganto dwell on this question:

"Is there any place in the world for one who has committed a crime, savea prison?"

CHAPTER XX

MAIDEN AND WOOD-SAWYER

Before utterly abandoning all hope of finding employment that should insome small degree preserve an air of respectability, Haldane resolved togive up one more day to the search, and on the following morning hestarted out and walked until nightfall. He even offered to take thehumblest positions that would insure him a support and some recognition;but the record of his action while in Mr. Arnot's employ followed himeverywhere, creating sufficient prejudice in every case to lead to arefusal of his application. Some said "No" reluctantly and hesitatingly, as if kindly feelings within took the young man's part; but they saidit, nevertheless. 

For the patient resolution with which he continued to apply to all kindsof people and places, hour after hour, in spite of such dishearteningtreatment, he deserved much praise; but he did not receive any; and atlast, weary and despondent, he returned to his miserable lodgings. Hewas so desperately depressed in body and mind that the contents of theblack bottle seemed his only resource. 

Such a small sum now remained that he felt that something must be doneinstantly. He concluded that his only course now was to go out and pickup any odd bits of work that he could find. He hoped that by workinghalf the time he might make enough to pay for his board at his presentcheap lodging-place. This would leave him time to continue his writing, and in the course of a week more he would certainly hear from themanuscripts already forwarded. On these he now built nearly all hishope. If they were well received and paid for, he considered hisfortunes substantially restored, and fame almost a certainty in thefuture. If he could only produce a few more manuscripts, and bridge overthe intervening time until he could hear from them, he felt that hischief difficulties would be past. 

Having decided to do a laborer's work, he at once resolved to exchangehis elegant broadcloth for a laborer's suit, and he managed thistransfer so shrewdly that he obtained quite a little sum of money inaddition. 

It was well that he did replenish his finances somewhat, for hisapparently phlegmatic landlord was as wary as a veteran mouser inlooking after his small interests. He had just obtained an inkling as toHaldane's identity, and, while he was not at all chary concerning thesocial and moral standing of his few uncertain lodgers, he proposedhenceforth that all transactions with the suspicious stranger should beon a strictly cash basis. 

It was the busy spring-time, and labor was in great demand. Haldanewandered off to the suburbs, and, as an ordinary laborer, offered hisservices in cleaning up yards, cutting wood, or forking over a space ofgarden ground. His stalwart form and prepossessing appearance generallysecured him a favorable answer, but before he was through with his taskhe often received a sound scolding for his unskilful and bungling styleof work. But he in part made up by main strength what he lacked inskill, and after two or three days he acquired considerable deftness inhis unwonted labors, and felt the better for them. They counteracted theeffects of his literary efforts, or, more correctly, his means ofinspiration in them. 

Thus another week passed, of which he gave three days to the productionof two or three more brief manuscripts, and during the following week hefelt sure that he would hear from those first sent. 

He wrote throughout the hours of daylight on Sunday, scarcely leavinghis chair, and drank more deeply than usual. In consequence, he feltwretchedly on Monday, and, therefore, strolled off to look for someemployment that would not tax his aching head. Hitherto he had avoidedall localities where he would be apt to meet those who knew him; and byreason of his brief residence in town there were comparatively few whowere familiar with his features. He now recalled the fact that he hadoften seen from his window, while an inmate of Mrs. Arnot's home, quitea collection of cottages across a small ravine that ran a little back ofthat lady's residence. He might find some work among them, and heyielded to the impulse to look again upon the place where such rich andabundant happiness had once seemed within his grasp. 

For several days he had been conscious of a growing desire to hear fromhis mother and Mrs. Arnot, and often found himself wondering how theyregarded his mysterious disappearance, or whether reports of his vaininquiry for work had reached them. 

With a pride and resolution that grew obstinate with time and failure, he resolved that he would not communicate with them until he hadsomething favorable to tell; and he hoped, and almost believed, thatbefore many days passed, he could address to them a literary weeklypaper in which they would find, in prominent position, the underscoredinitials of E. H. Until he could be preceded by the first flashes offame he would remain in obscurity. He would not even let Mrs. Arnot knowwhere he was hiding, so that she might send to him his personal effectsleft at her house. Indeed, he had no place for them now, and was, besides, more morbidly bent than ever on making good the proud words hehad spoken. If, in the face of such tremendous odds he could, alone andunaided, with nothing but his hands and brain, win again all and morethan he had lost, he could compel the respect and admiration of thosewho had witnessed his downfall and consequent victorious struggle. 

Was the girl who had inspired his sudden, and, as he had supposed, "undying" passion, forgotten during these trying days? Yes, to a greatextent. His self-love was greater than his love for Laura Romeyn. Hecraved intensely to prove that he was no longer a proper object of herscorn. She had rejected him as a slave to "disgusting vices, " and suchhe had apparently shown himself to be; but now he would have beenwilling to have dipped his pen in his own blood, and have written awayhis life, if thereby he could have filled her with admiration andregret. Although he scarcely acknowledged it to himself, perhaps thesubtlest and strongest impulse to his present course was the hope ofteaching her that he was not what she now regarded him. But he was notat that time capable of a strong, true affection for any one, andthoughts of the pretty maiden wounded his pride more than his heart. 

After arriving at the further bank of the ravine, back of Mrs. Arnot'sresidence, he sat down for a while, and gave himself up to a very bitterrevery. There, in the bright spring sunshine, was the beautiful villawhich might have been a second home to him. The gardener was at workamong the shrubbery, and the sweet breath of crocuses and hyacinths wasfloated to him on the morning breeze. There were the windows of hisairy, lovely room, in comparison with which the place in which he nowslept was a kennel. If he had controlled and hidden his passion, if hehad waited and wooed patiently, skilfully, winning first esteem andfriendship, and then affection, yonder garden paths might have witnessedmany happy hours spent with the one whom he loved as well as he couldlove any one save himself. But now--and he cursed himself and his folly. 

Poor fellow! He might as well have said, "If I had not been myself, allthis might have been as I have imagined. " He had acted naturally, and inaccordance with his defective character; he had been himself, and thatwas the secret of all his troubles. He sprang up, exclaiming in anger:

"Mother made a weak fool of me, and I was willing to be a fool. Now weare bothing reaping our reward. "

He went off among the cottages looking for employment, but found littleencouragement. The people were, as a general thing, in humblecircumstances, and did their work among themselves. But at last hefound, near the ravine, a small dwelling standing quite apart from anyothers, before which a load of wood had been thrown. The poor womanwhose gateway it obstructed was anxious to have it sawed up and carriedto her little wood-shed, but was disposed to haggle about the price. 

"Give me what you please, " said Haldane, throwing off his coat; "I takethe job;" and in a few moments the youth who had meditated indefiniteheights of "gloomy grandeur" appeared--save to the initiated--as if hehad been born a wood-sawyer. 

He was driving his saw in the usual strong, dogged manner in which heperformed such tasks, when a light step caused him to look up suddenly, and he found himself almost face to face with Laura Romeyn. He startedviolently; the blood first receded from his face, and then rushedtumultuously back. She, too, seemed much surprised and startled, andstopped hesitatingly, as if she did not know what to do. But Haldane hadno doubt as to his course. He felt that he had no right to speak to her, and that she might regard it as an insult if he did; therefore he bentdown to his work again with a certain proud humility which Laura, evenin her perturbation, did not fail to notice. 

In her diffidence and confusion she continued past him a few steps, and, although he expected nothing less, the fact that she did not recognizeor speak to him cut to his heart with a deeper pain than he had yetsuffered. With a gesture similar to that which he made when she saw himon the way to prison, he dashed his hat down over his eyes, and drovehis saw through the wood with savage energy. 

She looked at him doubtfully for a moment, then yielding to her impulse, came to his side. His first intimation of her presence was the scarcelyheard tones of her voice mingling with the harsh rasping of the saw. 

"Will you not speak to me, Mr. Haldane?" she asked. 

He dropped his saw, stood erect, trembled slightly, but did not answeror even raise his eyes to her face. His pain was so great he was notsure of his self-control. 

"Perhaps, " she added timidly, "you do not wish me to speak to you. "

"I now have no right to speak to you, Miss Romeyn, " he answered in atone which his suppressed feelings rendered constrained and almostharsh. 

"But I feel sorry for you, " said she quickly, "and so does my aunt, andshe greatly--"

"I have not asked for your pity, " interrupted Haldane, growing moreerect and almost haughty in his bearing, quite oblivious for a moment ofhis shirt-sleeves and bucksaw. What is more, he made Laura forget themalso, and his manner embarrassed her greatly. She was naturally gentleand timid, and she deferred so far to his mood that one would havethought that she was seeking to obtain kindness rather than to conferit. 

"You misunderstand me, " said she: "I do respect you for the brave effortyou are making. I respect you for doing this work. You cannot think itstrange, though, that I am sorry for all that has happened. But I didnot intend to speak of myself at all--of Mrs. Arnot rather, and yourmother. They do not know where to find you, and wish to see and hearfrom you very much. Mrs. Arnot has letters to you from your mother. "

"The time shall come--it may not be so very far distant, MissRomeyn--when it will be no condescension on your part to speak to me, "said Haldane loftily, ignoring all that related to Mrs. Arnot and hismother, even if he heard it. 

"I do not feel it to be condescension now, " replied Laura, with almostthe frank simplicity of a child. "I cannot help feeling sympathy foryou, even though you are too proud to receive it. " Then she added, witha trace of dignity and maidenly pride, "Perhaps when you have realizedyour hopes, and have become rich or famous, I may not choose to speak toyou. But it is not my nature to turn from any one in misfortune, muchless any one whom I have known well. "

He looked at her steadily for a moment, and his lip quivered slightlywith his softening feeling. 

"You do not scorn me, then, like the rest of the world, " said he in alow tone. 

Tears stood in the young girl's eyes as she answered, "Mr. Haldane, I dofeel deeply for you; I know you have done very wrong, but that onlymakes you suffer more. "

"How can you overlook the wrong of my action? Others think I am not fitto be spoken to, " he asked, in a still lower tone. 

"I do not overlook the wrong, " said she, gravely; "it seems strange andterrible to me; and yet I do feel sorry for you, from the depths of myheart, and I wish I could help you. "

"You have helped me, " said he, impetuously; "you have spoken the firsttruly kind word that has blessed me since I bade mother good-by. I wasbeginning to hate the hard-hearted animals known as men and women. Theytrample me down like a herd of buffaloes. "

"Won't you go with me and see Mrs. Arnot? She has letters for you, andshe greatly wishes to see you. "

He shook his head. 

"Why not?"

"I have the same as made a vow that I will never approach any one towhom I held my old relations until I regain at least as good a name andposition as I lost. I little thought we should meet soon again, if ever, and still less that you would speak to me as you have done. "

"I had been taking some delicacies from auntie to a poor sick woman, andwas just returning, " said Laura, blushing slightly. "I think your vow isvery wrong. Your pride brings grief to your mother, and pain to yourgood friend, Mrs. Arnot. "

"I cannot help it, " said he, in a manner that was gloomy and almostsullen; "I got myself into this slough, and I intend to get myself outof it. I shall not take alms from any one. "

"A mother cannot give her son alms, " said Laura simply. 

"The first words my mother said to me when my heart was breaking were, 'You have disgraced me. ' When I have accomplished that which will honorher I will return. "

"I know from what auntie said that your mother did not mean anyunkindness, and you surely know that you have a friend in Mrs. Arnot. "

"Mrs. Arnot _has_ been a true friend, and no small part of my punishmentis the thought of how I have requited her kindness. I reverence andhonor her more than any other woman, and I did not know that you were somuch like her. You both seem different from all the rest of the world. But I shall take no advantage of her kindness or yours. "

"Mr. Haldane, " said Laura gravely, but with rising color, "I am not awoman. In years and feelings I am scarcely more than a child. It may notbe proper or conventional for me to stop and talk so long to you, but Ihave acted from the natural impulse of a young girl brought up in asecluded country home. I shall return thither tomorrow, and I am glad Ihave seen you once more, for I wished you to know that I did feel sorryfor you, and that I hoped you might succeed. I greatly wish you wouldsee Mrs. Arnot, or let me tell her where she can see you, and send toyou what she wishes. She has heard of you once or twice, but does notknow where to find you. Will you not let me tell her?"

He shook his head decidedly. 

"Well, then, good-by, " said she kindly, and was about to depart. 

"Wait, " he said hastily; "will you do me one small favor?"

"Yes, if I ought. "

"This is my father's watch and chain, " he continued, taking them off. "They are not safe with me in my present life. I do not wish to have itin my power to take them to a pawnshop. I would rather starve first, andyet I would rather not be tempted. I can't explain. You cannot andshould not know anything about the world in which I am living. Pleasegive these to Mrs. Arnot, and ask her to keep them till I come for them;or she can send them, with the rest of my effects, to my mother. I havedetained you too long already. Whatever may be my fate, I shall alwaysremember you with the deepest gratitude and respect. "

There was distress in Laura's face as he spoke; but she took the watchand chain without a word, for she saw that he was fully resolved uponhis course. 

"I know that Mrs. Arnot will respect my wish to remain in obscurityuntil I can come with a character differing from that which I now bear. Your life would be a very happy one, Miss Romeyn, if my wishes couldmake it so;" and the wood-sawyer bowed his farewell with the grace anddignity of a gentleman, in spite of his coarse laborer's garb. He thenresumed his work, to the great relief of the woman, who had caughtglimpses of the interview from her window, wondering and surmising whythe "young leddy from the big house" should have so much to say to awood-sawyer. 

"If she had a-given him a tract upon leavin', it would a-seemed morenateral like, " she explained to a crony the latter part of the day. 

Mrs. Arnot did respect Haldane's desire to be left to himself until hecame in the manner that his pride dictated; but, after hearing Laura'sstory, she cast many a wistful glance toward the one who, in spite ofhis grave faults and weaknesses, deeply interested her, and she sighed:

"He must learn by hard experience. "

"Did I do wrong in speaking to him, auntie?" Laura asked. 

"I do not think so. Your motive was natural and kindly; and yet I wouldnot like you to meet him again until he is wholly different incharacter, if that time ever comes. "

CHAPTER XXI

MAGNANIMOUS MR. SHRUMPF

After the excitement caused by his unexpected interview with Laurasubsided, and Haldane was able to think it over quietly, it seemed tohim that he had burned his ships behind him. He must now make good hisproud words, for to go "crawling back" after what he had said to-day, and, of all persons, to the one whose opinion he most valued--this wouldbe a humiliation the thought of which even he could not endure. 

Having finished his task, he scarcely glanced at the pittance which thewoman reluctantly gave him, and went straight to the city post-office. He was so agitated with conflicting hopes and fears that his voicetrembled as he asked if there were any letters addressed to E. H. , andhe was so deeply disappointed that he was scarcely willing to take thecareless negative given. He even went to the express office, in thevague hope that the wary editors had remitted through them; and theleaden weight of despondency grew heavier at each brisk statement:

"Nothing for E. H. "

He was so weary and low-spirited when he reached his dismal lodgingsthat he felt no disposition either to eat or drink, but sat down in theback part of the wretched, musty saloon, and, drawing his hat over hiseyes, he gave himself up to bitter thoughts. With mental imprecations hecursed himself that he had not better understood the young girl who oncehad been his companion. Never before had she seemed so beautiful asto-day, and she had revealed a forming character as lovely as herperson. She _was_ like Mrs. Arnot--the woman who seemed to himperfect--and what more could he say in her praise? And yet his folly hadplaced between them an impassable gulf. He was not misled by herkindness, for he remembered her words, and now believed them, "If I everlove a man he will be one that I can look up to and respect. " If hecould only have recognized her noble tendencies he might have resolutelyset about becoming such a man. If his character had been pleasing toher, his social position would have given him the right to have aspiredto her hand. Why had he not had sufficient sense to have realized thatshe was young--much too young to understand his rash, hasty passion? Whycould he not have learned from her pure, delicate face that she mightpossibly be won by patient and manly devotion, but would be foreverrepelled from the man who wooed her like a Turk?

In the light of experience he saw his mistakes. From his present depthhe looked up, and saw the inestimable vantage ground which he oncepossessed. In his deep despondency he feared he never would regain it, and that his hopes of literary success would prove delusive. 

Regret like a cold, November wind, swept through all his thoughts andmemories, and there seemed nothing before him but a chill winter ofblight and failure that would have no spring. 

But he was not left to indulge his miserable mood very long, for hismousing landlord--having finally learned who Haldane was, and all theunfavorable facts and comments with which the press had abounded--nowconcluded that he could pounce upon him in such a way that somethingwould be left in his claws before the victim could escape. 

That very morning Haldane had paid for his board to date, but hadthoughtlessly neglected to have a witness or take a receipt. Thegrizzled grimalkin who kept the den, and thrived as much by his smallfilchings as from his small profits, had purred to himself, "Very goot, very goot, " on learning that Haldane's word would not be worth much withthe public or in court; and no yellow-eyed cat ever waited and watchedfor his prey with a quieter and cooler deliberation than did WeitzelShrumpf, the host of the dingy little hotel. 

After Haldane appeared he delayed until a few cronies whom he coulddepend upon had dropped in, and then, in an off-hand way, stepped up tothe despondent youth, and said:

"I zay, mister, you been here zwei week; I want you bay me now. "

"What do you mean?" asked Haldane, looking up with an uncomprehendingstare. 

"Dis is vot I mean; you buts me off long nuff. I vants zwei weeks'bort. "

"I paid you for everything up to this morning, and I have had nothingsince. "

"O, you have baid me--strange I did not know. Vill you bays now ven Idoes know?"

"I tell you I have paid you!" said Haldane, starting up. 

"Vel, vell, show me der receipt, an I says not von vort against him. "

"You did not give me a receipt. "

"No, I thinks not--not my vay to give him till I gits de moneys. "

"You are an unmitigated scoundrel. I won't pay you another cent. "

"Lock dat door, Carl, " said the landlord, coolly, to one of hissatellites. "Now, Mister Haldane, you bays, or you goes to jail. You hasbeen dare vonce, and I'll but you dare dis night if you no bays me. "

"Gentlemen, I appeal to you to prevent this downright villany, " criedHaldane. 

"I sees no villany, " said one of the lookers-on, stolidly. "You showsyour receipt, and he no touch you. "

"I neglected to take a receipt. I did not know I was dealing with athief. "

"Ho, ho, ho!" laughed the landlord; "he tinks I vas honest like himself, who vas jus' out of jail!"

"I won't pay you twice, " said Haldane doggedly. 

"Carl, call de policeman, den. "

"Wait a moment; your rascality will do you no good, and may get you intotrouble. I have very little money left. "

"Den you can leave your vatch till you brings de money. "

"Ah, thank Heaven! that is safe, and beyond your clutches. "

"In a pawnshop? or vas he stolen, like de tousand dollar, and you beenmade give him up?"

Haldane had now recovered himself sufficiently to realize that he was inan ugly predicament. He was not sufficiently familiar with the law toknow how much power his persecutor had, but feared, with good reason, that some kind of a charge could be trumped up which would lead to hisbeing locked up for the night. Then would follow inevitably anotherseries of paragraphs in the papers, deepening the dark hues in whichthey had already portrayed his character. He could not endure thethought that the last knowledge of him that Laura carried away with herfrom Hillaton should be that he was again in jail, charged with tryingto steal his board and lodging from a poor and ignorant foreigner; forhe foresaw that the astute Shrumpf, his German landlord, would appear inthe police court in the character of an injured innocent. He picturedthe disgust upon her face as she saw his name in the vile connectionwhich this new arraignment would occasion, and he felt that he mustescape it if possible. Although enraged at Shrumpf's false charge, hewas cool enough to remember that he had nothing to oppose to it save hisown unsupported word; and what was that worth in Hillaton? The publicwould even be inclined to believe the opposite of what he affirmed. Therefore, by a great effort, he regained his self-control, and saidfirmly and quietly:

"Shrumpf, although you know I have paid you, I am yet in a certain sensewithin your power, since I did not take your receipt. I have not muchmoney left, but after I have taken out fifty cents for my supper and bedyou can take all the rest. My watch is in the hands of a friend, and youcan't get that, and you can't get any more than I have by procuring myarrest; so take your choice. I don't want to have trouble with you, butI won't go out penniless and spend the night in the street, and if yousend for a policeman I will make you all the trouble I can, and Ipromise you it will not be a little. "

Herr Shrumpf, conscious that he was on rather delicate ground, andremembering that he was already in bad odor with the police authorities, assumed a great show of generosity. 

"I vill not be tough, " he said, "ven a man's boor and does all vat hecan; I knows my rights, and I stands up for him, but ven I gits him denI be like von leetle lamb. I vill leave you tree quarter dollar, and youbays der rest vat you have, and we says nothing more 'bout him. "

"You are right--the least said the better about this transaction. I'vebeen a fool, and you are a knave, and that is all there is to say. Hereare seventy-five cents, which I keep, and there are four dollars, whichis all I have--every cent. Now unlock your door and let me out. "

"I tinks you has more. "

"You can search my pockets if you wish. If you do, I call upon these menpresent to witness the act, for, as I have said, if you go beyond acertain point I will make you trouble, and justly, too. "

"Nah, nah! vat for I do so mean a ting? You but your hand in my bocketven you takes my dinners, my lagers, and my brandies, but I no do vat noshentlemens does. You can go, and ven you brings de full moneys for zweiweeks' bort I gives you receipt for him. "

Haldane vouchsafed no reply, but hastened away, as a fly would escapefrom a spider's web. The episode, intensely disagreeable as it was, hadthe good effect of arousing him out of the paralysis of his deepdespondency. Besides, he could not help congratulating himself that hehad avoided another arrest and all the wretched experience which musthave followed. 

He concluded that there was no other resource for him that night save"No. 13, " the lodging-house in the side street where "no questions wereasked"; and, having stolen into another obscure restaurant, he obtainedsuch a supper as could be had for twenty-five cents. He then sought hisformer miserable refuge, and, as he could not pay extra for a privateroom on this occasion--for he must keep a little money for hisbreakfast--there was nothing for him, therefore, but to obtain what resthe could in a large, stifling room, half filled with miserable waifslike himself. He managed to get a bed near a window, which he raisedslightly, and fatigue soon brought oblivion. 

CHAPTER XXII

A MAN WHO HATED HIMSELF

The light of the following day brought little hope or courage; butHaldane started out, after a meagre breakfast, to find some means ofobtaining a dinner and a place to sleep. He was not as successful asusual, and noon had passed before he found anything to do. 

As he was plodding wearily along through a suburb he heard some onebehind a high board fence speaking so loudly and angrily that he stoppedto listen, and was not a little surprised to find that the man wastalking to himself. For a few moments there was a sound of a saw, andwhen it ceased, a harsh, querulous voice commenced again:

"A-a-h"--it would seem that the man thus given to soliloquy often beganand finished his sentences with a vindictive and prolonged gutturalsound like that here indicated--"Miserable hand at sawin' wood! Whydon't you let some one saw it that knows how? Tryin' to save a halfdollar; when you know it'll give you the rheumatiz, and cost ten indoctor bills! 'Nother thing; it's mean--mean as dirt. You know there'spoor devils who need the work, and you're cheatin' 'em out of it. Butit's just like yer! A-a-h!" and then the saw began again. 

Haldane was inclined to believe that this irascible stranger was asprovidential as the croaking ravens that fed the prophet, and hepromptly sought the gate and entered. An old man looked up in somesurprise. He was short in stature and had the stoop of one who isbending under the weight of years and infirmities. His features were aswithered and brown as a russet apple that had been kept long past itsseason, and his head was surmounted by a shock of white locks thatbristled out in all directions, as if each particular hair was on badterms with its neighbors. Curious seams and wrinkles gave the continuousimpression that the old gentleman had just swallowed something verybitter, and was making a wry face over it. But Haldane was in no moodfor the study of physiognomy and character, however interesting asubject he might stumble upon, and he said:

"I am looking for a little work, and with your permission I will sawthat wood for whatever you are willing to pay. "

"That won't be much. "

"It will be enough to get a hungry man a dinner. "

"Haven't you had any dinner?"

"No. "

"Why didn't you ask for one, then?"

"Why should I ask you for a dinner?"

"Why shouldn't you? If I be a tight-fisted man, I'm not mean enough torefuse a hungry man. "

"Give me some work, and I can buy my dinner. "

"What's your name?"

"Egbert Haldane. "

"Ah ha! That name's been in the papers lately. "

"Yes, and _I_ have been in jail. "

"And do you expect me to have a man around that's been in jail?"

"No; I don't expect any humanity from any human being that knowsanything about me. I am treated as if I were the devil himself, andhadn't the power or wish to do anything save rob and murder. The publicshould keep such as I am in prison the rest of our lives, or else cutour throats. But this sending us out in the world to starve, and to bekicked and cuffed during the process, is scarcely in keeping with theBible civilization they are always boasting of. "

He spoke recklessly and bitterly, and his experience made his wordsappear to him only too true. But his shrivelled and shrunken auditorgrinned appreciatively, and said, with more than his usual vindictiveemphasis:

"A-a-h! that's the right kind of talk. Now you're gittin' past all thismake-believin' to the truth. We're a cussed mean set--we folk who go tochurch and read the Bible, and then do just what the devil tells us, a-helpin him along all the time. Satan's got a strong grip on you, fromall I hear, and we're all a-helpin' him keep it. You've gone half way tothe devil, and all the good people tell you to go the rest of the way, for they won't have anything to do with you. Hain't that the way?"

"Oh, no, " said Haldane with a bitter sneer; "some of the good people towhom you refer put themselves out so far as to give me a little advice. "

"What was it wuth to you? Which would you ruther--some good advice fromme, or the job of sawin' the wood there?"

"Give me the saw--no matter about the advice, " said Haldane, throwingoff his coat. 

"A-a-h! wasn't I a fool to ask that question? Well, I don't belong tothe good people, so go ahead--I don't s'pose you know much about sawin'wood, bro't up as you've been; but you can't do it wuss than me. I don'tbelong to any one. What I was made for I can't see, unless it is to be atorment to myself. Nobody can stand me. I can't stand myself. I've got acat and dog that will stay with me, and sometimes I'll git up and kick'em jest for the chance of cussin' myself for doin' it. "

"And yet you are the first man in town that has shown me any practicalkindness, " said Haldane, placing another stick on his saw-buck. 

"Well, I kinder do it out o' spite to myself. There's somethin' insideof me sayin' all the time, 'Why are you spendin' time and money on thisyoung scapegrace? It'll end in your havin' to give him a dinner, for youcan't be so blasted mean as to let him go without it, and yet all thetime you're wishin' that you needn't do it. '"

"Well, you need not, " said Haldane. 

"Yes, I must, too. "

"All I ask of you is what you think that work is worth. "

"Well, that ain't all I ask of my confounded old self. Here, you'rehungry you say--s'pose you tell the truth sometimes; here you're down, and all the respectable people sittin' down hard on you; here you are inthe devil's clutches, and he's got you half way toward the brimstone, and I'm grudgin' you a dinner, even when I know I've got to give it toyou. That's what I call bein' mean and a fool both. A-a-h!"

Haldane stopped a moment to indulge in the first laugh he had enjoyedsince his arrest. 

"I hope you will pardon me, my venerable friend, " said he; "but you havea rather strangely honest way of talking. "

"I'm old, but I ain't venerable. My name is Jeremiah Growther, " was thesnarling reply. 

"I'm fraid you have too much conscience, Mr. Growther. It won't let youdo comfortably what others do as a matter of course. "

"I've nothin' to do with other people. I know what's right, and I'm allthe time hatin' to do it. That's the mean thing about me which I can'tstand. A-a-h!"

"I'm sorry my coming has made you so out of sorts with yourself. "

"If it ain't you it's somethin' else. I ain't more out of sorts thanusual. "

"Well, you'll soon be rid of me--I'll be through in an hour. "

"Yes, and here it is the middle of the afternoon, and you haven't hadyour dinner yet, and for all I know, no breakfast nuther. I was preciouscareful to have both of mine, and find it very comfortable standin' herea-growlin' while you're workin' on an empty stomach. But it's just likeme. A-a-h! I'll call you in a few minutes, and I won't pay you a centunless you come in;" and the old man started for the small dilapidatedcottage which he shared with the cat and dog that, as he stated, managedto worry along with him. 

But he had not taken many steps before he stumbled slightly against aloose stone, and he stopped for a moment, as if he could find nolanguage equal to the occasion, and then commenced such a tirade ofabuse with his poor weazened little self as its object, that one wouldnaturally feel like taking sides with the decrepit body against thevindictive spirit. Haldane would have knocked a stranger down had hesaid half as much to the old gentleman, who seemed bent on befriendinghim after his own odd fashion. But the irate old man finished hisobjurgation with the words:

"What's one doin' above ground who can't lift his foot over a stone onlyan inch high? A-a-h!" and then he went on, and disappeared in the house, from the open door of which not long after came the savory odor ofcoffee. 

Partly to forget his miserable self in his employer's strange manner, and partly because he was almost faint from hunger, Haldane concluded toaccept this first invitation to dine out in Hillaton, resolving that hewould do his queer host some favor to make things even. 

"Come in, " shouted Mr. Growther a few minutes later. 

Haldane entered quite a large room, which presented an odd aspect ofcomfort and disorder. 

"There's a place to wash your hands, if you think it's wuth while. Idon't often, but I hope there's few like me, " said the busy host, lifting the frying-pan from some coals, and emptying from it a generousslice of ham and three or four eggs on a platter. 

"I like your open fire-place, " said Haldane, looking curiously aroundthe hermitage as he performed his ablutions. 

"That's a nuther of my weaknesses. I know a stove would be moreconvenient and economical, but I hate all improvements. "

"One would think, from what you said, your cat and dog had a hard timeof it; but two more sleek, fat, and lazy animals I never saw. "

"No thanks to me. I s'pose they've got clear consciences. "

As the table began to fairly groan with good things, Haldane said:

"Look here, Mr. Growther, are you in the habit of giving disreputablepeople such a dinner as that?"

"If it's good enough for me, it's good enough for you, " was the tartreply. 

"O, I'm not finding fault; I only wanted you to know that I would begrateful for much less. "

"I'm not doin' it to please you, but to spite myself. "

"Have your own way, of course, " said Haldane, laughing: "it's a littleodd, though, that your spite against yourself should mean so muchpractical kindness to me. "

"Hold on!" cried his host, as Haldane was about to attack the viands;"ain't you goin' to say grace?"

"Well, " said the young man, somewhat embarrassed, "I would rather youwould say it for me. "

"I might as well eat your dinner for you. "

"Mr. Growther, you are an unusually honest man, and I think a kind one;so I am not going to act out any lies before you. Although your dinneris the best one I have seen for many a long day, or am likely to see, yet, to tell you the truth, I could swear over it easier than I couldpray over it. "

"A-a-h! that's the right spirit; that's the way I ought to feel. Now yousee what a mean hypocrite I am. I'm no Christian--far from it--and yet Ialways have a sneakin' wish to say grace over my victuals. As if itwould do anybody any good! If I'd jest swear over 'em, as you say, thenI would be consistent. "

"Are you in earnest in all this strange talk?"

"Yes, I am; I hate myself. "

"Why?"

"Because I know all about myself. A-a-h!"

"How many poor, hungry people have you fed since the year opened?"

"Your question shows me jest what I am. I could tell you within three orfour. I found myself a-countin' of 'em up and a-gloryin' in it all thetother night, takin' credit to myself for givin' away a few victualsafter I had had plenty myself. Think of a man gittin' self-righteousover givin' to some poor fellow-critters what he couldn't eat himself!If that ain't meanness, what is it? A-a-h!"

"But you haven't told me how many you have fed. "

"No, and I ain't a-goin' to--jest to spite myself. I want to tell you, and to take credit for it, but I'll head myself off this time. "

"But you could eat these things which you are serving to me--if notto-day, why, then to-morrow. "

"To-morrow's income will provide for to-morrow. The Lord shows he's downon this savin' and hoardin' up of things, for he makes 'em get mustyright away; and if anything spiles on my hands I'm mad enough to bitemyself in two. "

"But if you treat all stragglers as you do me, you do not give away oddsand ends and what's left over. This coffee is fine old Java, and a moredelicate ham I never tasted. "

"Now you hit me twice. I will have the best for myself, instead ofpracticin' self-denial and economy. Then I'm always wantin' to get somesecond-hand victuals to give away, but I daresn't. You see I read theBible sometimes, and it's the most awfully oncomfortable book that everwas written. You know what the Lord says in it--or you ought to--aboutwhat we do for the least of these his brethren; that means such as you, only you're a sort of black sheep in the family; and if words have anysense at all, the Lord takes my givin' you a dinner the same as if Igave it to him. Now s'pose the Lord came to my house, as he did to Maryand Martha's, and I should git him up a slimpsy dinner of second-handvictuals, and stand by a-chucklin' that I had saved twenty-five cents onit, wouldn't that be meanness itself? Some time ago I had a ham that Icouldn't and wouldn't eat, and they wouldn't take it back at the store, so I got some of the Lord's poor brethren to come to dinner, and Ipalmed it off on them. But I had to cuss myself the whole evenin' to payup for it! A-a-h!"

"By Jove!" cried Haldane, dropping his knife and fork, and lookingadmiringly at his host, who stood on the hearth, running his fingersthrough his shock of white hair, his shriveled and bristling aspectmaking a marked contrast with his sleek and lazy cat and dog--"by Jove, you are that I call a Christian!"

"Now, look here, young man, " said Mr. Growther, wrathfully, "though youare under no obligations to me, you've got no business makin' game of meand callin' me names, and I won't stand it. You've got to be civil andspeak the truth while you're on my premises, whether you want to or no. "

Haldane shrugged his shoulders, laughed, and made haste with his dinner, for with such a gusty and variable host he might not get a chance tofinish it. As he glanced around the room, however, and saw how cosey andinviting it might be made by a little order and homelike arrangement, hedetermined to fix it up according to his own ideas, if he couldaccomplish it without actually coming to blows with the occupant. 

"Who keeps house for you?" he asked. 

"Didn't I tell you nobody could stand me!"

"Will you stand me for about half an hour while I fix up this room foryou?"

"No!"

"What will you do if I attempt it?"

"I'll set the dog on you. "

"Nothing worse?" asked Haldane, with a laughing glance at the lazy cur. 

"You might take something. "

An expression of sharp pain crossed the young man's face; the sunshinefaded out of it utterly, and he said in a cold, constrained voice, as herose from the table:

"Oh, I forgot for a moment that I am a thief in the world's estimation. "

"That last remark of mine was about equal to a kick, wasn't it?"

"A little worse. "

"Ain't you used to 'em yet?"

"I ought to be. "

"Why, do many speak out as plain as that?"

"They act it out just as plainly. Since you don't trust me, you hadbetter watch me, lest I put some cord-wood in my pocket. "

"What do you want to do?"

"If the world is going to insist upon it that I am a scoundrel to theend of the chapter, I want to find some deep water, and get under it, "was the reckless reply. 

"A-a-h! Didn't I say we respectable people and the devil was inpartnership over you? He wants to get you under deep water as soon aspossible, and we're all a-helpin' him along. Young man, I _am_ afraid ofyou, like the rest, and it seems to me that I think more of my old dudshere than of your immortal soul that the devil has almost got. But I'mgoin' to spite him and myself for once. I'm goin' down town after theevenin' paper, and, instead of lockin' up, as I usually do, I shallleave you in charge. I know it's risky, and I hate to do it, but itseems to me that you ought ter have sense enough to know that if youtake all I've got you would be jest that much wuss off;" and beforeHaldane could remonstrate or reply he took a curiously twisted andgnarled cane that resembled himself and departed. 

CHAPTER XXIII

MR. GROWTHER BECOMES GIGANTIC

Haldane was so surprised at Mr. Growther's unexpected course that theodd old man was out of the gate before the situation was fully realized. His first impulse was to follow, and say that he would not be left alonein circumstances that might compromise him; but a second thought assuredhim that he was past being compromised. So he concluded to fall in withhis host's queer humor, and try to prove himself worthy of trust. Hecleared away his dinner with as much deftness as could be expected ofone engaging in an unusual task, and put everything in its place, orwhat should be its place. He next found a broom, and commenced sweepingthe room, which unwonted proceeding aroused the slumbering cat and dog, and they sat up and stared at the stranger with unfeigned astonishment. 

The cat looked on quietly and philosophically, acting on the generallyreceived principle of the world, of not worrying until her own interestsseemed threatened. But the dog evidently thought of the welfare of hisabsent master, and had a vague troubled sense that something was wrong. He waddled up to the intruder, and gravely smelled of him. By somecanine casuistry he arrived at the same conclusion which society hadreached--that Haldane was a suspicious character, and should be kept atarm's-length. Indeed, the sagacious beast seemed to feel toward theunfortunate youth precisely the same impulse which had actuated all theprudent citizens in town--a desire to be rid of him, and to have nothingto do with him. If Haldane would only take himself off to parts unknown, to die in a gutter, or to commit a burglary, that he might, as it were, break into jail again, and so find a refuge and an abiding-place, thefaithful dog, believing his master's interests no longer endangered, would have resumed his nap with the same complacence and sense of reliefwhich scores of good people had felt as they saw Mr. Arnot's dishonoredclerk disappearing from their premises, after their curt refusal of hisservices. The community's thoughts and wary eyes followed him onlysufficiently long to be sure that he committed no further depredations, and then he was forgotten, or remembered only as a danger, or anannoyance, happily escaped. What was to become of this drifting humanatom appeared to cause no more solicitude in town than Mr. Growther'sdog would feel should he succeed in growling the intruder out of thehouse; for, being somewhat mystified, and not exactly sure as to hismaster's disposition toward the stranger, he concluded to limit hisprotest to a union of his voice with what might be termed society'ssurly and monotonous command, "Move on. "

Haldane tried to propitiate this mild and miniature Cerberus with adainty piece of ham, but was rewarded only by a disdainful sniff andangrier snarl. The politic cat, however, with wary glances at the dogand the stranger, stole noiselessly to the meat, seized it, andretreated quickly to her recognized corner of the hearth; but when theyouth, hoping that the morsel might lead to a friendly acquaintance, offered a caress, her back and tail went up instantly, and she becamethe embodiment of repellant conservatism. He looked at her a moment, andthen said, with a bitter laugh:

"If you could be transformed into a woman, as the old fairy tale goes, you would make an excellent wife for Weitzel Shrumpf, while the snarlingdog represents the respectable portion of the community, that will havenothing to do with me whatever. When my pen, however, has brought nameand fame, the churlish world will be ready to fawn, and forget that ittried to trample me into the mire of the street until I became a part ofit. Curses on the world! I would give half my life for the genius of aByron, that I migt heap scorn on society until it writhed under theintolerable burden. Oh that I had a wit as keen and quick as thelightning, so that I might transfix and shrivel up the well-dressedmonsters that now shun me as if I had a contagion!"

From a heart overflowing with bitterness and impotent protest againstthe condition to which his own act had reduced him, Haldane was learningto indulge in such bitter soliloquy with increasing frequency. It isever the tendency of those who find themselves at odds with the world, and in conflict with the established order of things, to inveigh withcommunistic extravagance against the conservatism and wary prudencewhich they themselves would have maintained had all remained well withthem. The Haldane who had meditated "gloomy grandeur" would not havelooked at the poor, besmirched Haldane who had just accepted what theworld would regard as charity. The only reason why the proud, aristocratic youth could tolerate and make excuse for the disreputablecharacter who was glad to eat the dinner given by Jeremiah Growther, wasthat this same ill-conditioned fellow was himself. Thus every bitterthing which he said against society was virtually self-condemnation. Andyet his course was most natural, for men almost invariably forget thattheir views change with their fortunes. Thousands will at once form apositive opinion of a subject from its aspect seen at their standpoint, where one will walk around and scan it on all sides. 

Either to spite himself, or to show his confidence in one whom othersregarded as utterly unworthy of trust, Mr. Growther remained awaysufficiently long for Haldane to have made up a bundle of all thevaluables in the house, and have escaped. The young man soon discoveredthat there were valuables, but anything like vulgar theft never enteredhis mind. That people should believe him capable of acting the part of acommon thief was one of the strange things in his present experiencewhich he could not understand. 

Finally, to the immense relief of the honest and conservative dog, thathad growled himself hoarse, Haldane gave the room its finishing touches, and betook himself to the woodpile again. The cat watched his departurewith philosophic composure. Like many fair ladies, she had thoughtchiefly of herself during the interview with the stranger, from whom shehad managed to secure a little agreeable attention without givinganything in return; and, now that it was over, she complacently purredherself to sleep, with nothing to regret. 

"Hullo! you're here yet, eh!" said Mr. Growther, entering the gate. 

"Can you name any good reason why I should not be here?" asked Haldane, somewhat nettled. 

"No, but I could plenty of bad reasons. "

"Keep them to yourself then, " said the young man, sullenly resuming hiswork. 

"You talk as if you was an honest man, " growled the old gentleman, hobbling into the house. 

Sitting down in his stout oak chair to rest himself, he stared insilence for a time at the changes that Haldane had wrought. At last hecommenced:

"Now, Jeremiah Growther, I hope you can see that you are a perfect pig!I hope you can see that dirt and confusion are your nateral elements;and you had to live like a pig till a boy just out of jail came to showyou what it was to live like a decent human. But you've been showedbefore, and you'll get things mixed up to-morrow. A-a-h!

"Where's that young fellow goin' to sleep to-night? That's none o' yourbusiness. Yes, 'tis my business, too. I'm always mighty careful to knowwhere I'm goin' to sleep, and if I don't sleep well my cat and dog hearfrom me the next day. You could be mighty comfortable tonight in yourgood bed with this young chap sittin' on a curb-stun in the rain; but Ibe hanged if you shall be. It's beginnin' to rain now--it's goin' to bea mean night--mean as yourself--a cold, oncomfortable drizzle; just sucha night as makes these poor homeless devils feel that since they arehalf under water they might as well go down to the river and get underaltogether. P'raps they do it sometimes in the hope of finding a warm, dry place somewhere. Dreadful suddint change for 'em, though! And it'swe respectable, comfortable people that's to blame for these suddintchanges half the time. 

"You know that heady young chap out there will go to the bad if somebodydon't pull him up. You know that it would be mean as dirt to let him gowanderin' off to-night with only fifty cents in his pocket, tryin' tofind some place to put his head in out of the storm; and yet you want togit out of doin' anything more for him. You're thinkin' how much morecomfortable it will be to sit dozin' in your chair, and not have anystranger botherin' round. But I'll head you off agin in spite of yourcussed, mean, stingy, selfish, old, shrivelled-up soul, that would liketo take its ease even though the hull world was a-groanin' outside thedoor. A-a-h!"

Having made it clear to the perverse Jeremiah Growther--against whom heseemed to hold such an inveterate spite--what he must do, he arose andcalled to Haldane:

"What are you doin' out there in the rain?"

"I'll be through in a few minutes. "

"I don't want the rest done till mornin'. "

"It will pay neither of us for me to come back here to do what's left. "

"It may pay you, and as to its payin' me, that's my business. "

"Not altogether--I wish to do my work on business principles; I haven'tgot down to charity yet. "

"Well, have your own way, then; I s'pose other folks have a right tohave it as well as myself, sometimes. Come in soon as you are through. "

By the time Haldaue finished his task the clouds had settled heavily allaround the horizon, hastening forward an early and gloomy twilight, andthe rain was beginning to fall steadily. His mood comported with theaspect of sky and earth, and weariness, the fast ally of despondency, aided in giving a leaden hue to the future and a leaden weight, to histhoughts. The prospect of trudging a mile or more through the drenchingrain to his previous squalid resting-place at No. 13, whose onlyattraction consisted in the fact that no questions were asked, was sodepressing that he decided to ask Mr. Growther for permission to sleepin the corner of his woodshed. 

"Come in, " shouted Mr. Growther, in response to his knock at the door. 

"I'm through, " said Haldane laconically. 

"Well, I ain't, " replied Mr. Growther; "you wouldn't mind taking thatcheer till I am, would you?"

Haldane found the cushioned armchair and the genial fire exceedingly tohis taste, and he felt that in such comfortable quarters he could endurehearing the old man berate himself or any one else for an hour or more. 

"Where are you goin' to sleep to-night?" asked his quaint-visaged host. 

"That is a problem I had been considering myself, " answered Haldane, dubiously. "I had about concluded that, rather than walk back throughthe rain to the wretched place at which I slept last night, I would askfor the privilege of sleeping in your wood-shed. It wouldn't be muchworse than the other place, or any place in which I could find lodgingif I were known. Since I did not steal your silver I suppose you cantrust me with your wood. "

"Yet they say your folks is rich. "

"Yes, I can go to as elegant a house as there is in this city. "

"Why in thunder don't you go there, then?"

"Because I would rather be in your wood-shed and other places like itfor the present. "

"I can't understand that. "

"Perhaps not, but there are worse things than sleeping hard and cold. There are people who suffer more through their minds than their bodies. I am not going back among my former acquaintances till I can go as agentleman. "

The old man looked at him approvingly a moment, and then saidsententiously:

"Well, you may be a bad cuss, but you ain't a mean one. "

Haldane laughed outright. "Mr. Growther, " said he, "you do me honor. Iforesee you will trust me with your wood-pile to-night. "

"No I won't nuther. You might not take my wood, but you would take cold, and then I'd have to nuss you and pay doctor's bills, and bother withyou a week or more. I might even have your funeral on my hands. Youneedn't think you're goin' to get me into all this trouble, fur I'm onethat hates trouble, unless it's fur myself; and, if I do say it, it'saskin' a little too much of me, almost a stranger, to 'tend to yourfuneral. I don't like funerals--never did--and I won't have nothin' todo with yours. There's a room right upstairs here, over the kitchen, where you can sleep without wakin' up the hull neighborhood a coughin'before mornin'. Now don't say nothin' more about it. I'm thinkin' ofmyself plaguy sight more'n I am of you. If I could let you go to thedogs without worryin' about it, I'd do it quick enough; but I've got amiserable, sneakin' old conscience that won't stand right up and make medo right, like a man; but when I want to do some thin' mean it begins agnawin' and a gnawin' at me till I have to do what I oughter for thesate of a little peace and comfort. A-a-h!"

"Your uncomfortable conscience seems bent on making me very comfortable;and yet I pledge you my word that I will stay only on one condition, andthat is, that you let me get supper and breakfast for you, and also readthe paper aloud this evening. I can see that you are tired and lame fromyour walk. Will you agree?"

"Can't very well help myself. These easterly storms allers brings therheumatiz into my legs. About all they are good fur now is to have therheumatiz in 'em. So set plates for two, and fire ahead. "

Haldane entered into his tasks with almost boyish zest. "I've camped outin the woods, and am considerable of a cook, " said he. "You shall havesome toast browned to a turn, to soak in your tea, and then you shallhave some more with hot cream poured over it. I'll shave the smoked beefso thin that you can see to read through it. "

"Umph! I can't see after dark any more than an old hen. "

"How did you expect to read the paper then?" asked Haldane, withoutpausing in his labors. 

"I only read the headin's. I might as well make up the rest as theeditors, fur then I can make it up to suit me. It's all made up half thetime, you know. "

"Well, you shall hear the editors' yarns to-night then, by way ofvariety. "

The old man watched the eager young fellow as he bustled from thecupboard to the table, and from the store-closet to the fireplace, witha kindly twinkle in his small eyes, from which the deep wrinkles ran inall directions and in strange complexity. There could scarcely be agreater contrast than that between the headstrong and stalwart youth andthe withered and eccentric hermit; but it would seem that mutualkindness is a common ground on which all the world can meet and addsomewhat to each other's welfare. 

The sound hard wood which Haldane had just sawn into billets blazedcheerily on the hearth, filling the quaint old kitchen with weird andflickering lights and shades. Mr. Growther was projected against theopposite wall in the aspect of a benevolent giant, and perhaps thelarge, kindly, but unsubstantial shadow was a truer type of the man thanthe shrivelled anatomy with which the town was familiar. Theconservative dog, no longer disquieted by doubts and fears, sat up andblinked approvingly at the preparation for supper. The politic cat, nowsatisfied that any attentions to the stranger would not compromise her, and might lead to another delicate morsel, fawned against his legs, andpurred as affectionately as if she had known him all her life and wouldnot scratch him instantly if he did anything displeasing to her. 

Take it altogether, it was a domestic scene which would have done Mrs. Arnot's heart good to have witnessed; but poor Mrs. Haldane would havesighed over it as so utterly unconventional as to be another proof ofher son's unnatural tastes. In her estimation he should spend socialevenings only in aristocratic parlors; and she mourned over the factthat from henceforth he was excluded from these privileged places of hisbirthright, with a grief only less poignant than her sorrow over whatseemed to her a cognate truth, that his course and character alsoexcluded him from heaven. 

CHAPTER XXIV

HOW PUBLIC OPINION IS OFTEN MADE

"I don't s'pose there's any use of two such reprobates as us thinkin'about sayin' grace, " said Mr. Growther, taking his place at the head ofthe table; "and yet, as I said, I allers have a sneakin' wish jest to gothrough the form; so we'll all begin in the same way--cat and dog andGod's rational critters. Howsomever, they don't know no better, and sotheir consciences is clear. I'll own up this toast is good, if I ameatin' it like a heathen. If you can't find anything else to do, you cantake to cookin' for a livin'. "

"No one in town, save yourself, would trust me in their kitchen. "

"Well, it does seem as if a man had better lose everything rather thanhis character, " said Mr. Growther thoughtfully. 

"Then it seems a pity a man can lose it so cursed easily, " added Haldanebitterly, "for, having lost it, all the respectable and well-to-do wouldrather one should go to the devil a thousand times than give him achance to win it back again. "

"You put it rather strong--rather strong, " said the old man, shaking hishead; "for some reason or other I am not as mad at myself and everythingand everybody to-night as usual, and I can see things clearer. Be honestnow. A month ago you belonged to the rich, high-flyin' class. How muchthen would you have had to do with a young fellow of whom you knew onlyfour things--that he gambled, got drunk, 'bezzled a thousand dollars, and had been in jail? That's all most people in town know about you. "

Haldane laid down his knife and fork and fairly groaned. 

"I know the plain truth is tough to hear and think about, and I'm an oldbrute to spile your supper by bringing it up. I hope you won't think I'mtrying to save some victuals by doin' it. And yet it's the truth, andyou've got to face it. But face it to-morrow--face it to-morrow; have acomfortable time to-night. "

"Your statement of the case is perfectly bald, " said Haldane, with atroubled brow; "there are explanatory and excusing circumstances. "

"Yes, no doubt; but the world don't take much account of them. When onegits into a scrape, about the only question asked is, What did he _do?_And they all jump to the conclusion that if he did it once he'll do itagin. Lookin' into the circumstances takes time and trouble, and itisn't human nature to bother much about other people. "

"What chance is there, then, for such as I am?"

The old man hitched uneasily on his chair, but at last, with hischaracteristic bluntness said, "Hanged if I know! They say that themthat gits down doesn't very often git up again. Yet I know they dosometimes. "

"What would you do if you were me?"

"Hanged if I know that either! Sit down and cuss myself to all eternity, like enough. I feel like doin' it sometimes as it is. A-a-h!"

"I think I know a way out of the slough, " said Haldane morecomposedly--his thoughts recurring to his literary hopes--"and if I do, you will not be sorry. "

"Of course I won't be sorry. A man allers hates one who holds a mortgageagainst him which is sure to be foreclosed. That's the way the devil'sgot me, and I hate him about as bad as I do myself, and spite him everychance I git. Of course, I'll be glad to see you git out of hisclutches; but he's got his claws in you deep, and he holds on to afeller as if he'd pull him in two before he'll let go. "

"Mr. Growther, I don't want to get into a quarrel with you, for I havefound that you are very touchy on a certain point; but I cannot helphinting that you are destined to meet a great disappointment whenthrough with your earthly worry. I wish my chances were as good asyours. "

"Now you are beginnin' to talk foolishly. I shall never be rid ofmyself, and so will never be rid of my worry. "

"Well, well, we won't discuss the question; it's too deep for us both;but in my judgment it will be a great piece of injustice if you everfind a warmer place than your own hearthstone. "

"That's mighty hot, sometimes, boy; and, besides, your judgment hasn'tled you very straight so far, " said the old man testily. "But don't talkof such things. I don't want to come to 'em till I have to. "

"Suppose I should become rich and famous, Mr. Growther, " said Haldane, changing the subject; "would you let me take a meal with you then?"

"That depends. If you put on any airs I wouldn't. "

"Good for you!"

"Oh, I'd want to make much of you, and tell how I helped you when youwas down, and so git all the reflected glory I could out of you. I'velearned how my sneakin' old speret pints every time; but I'll head itoff, and drive it back as I would a fox into its hole. "

In spite of some rather harrowing and gloomy thoughts on the part of twoof them, the four inmates of the cottage made a very comfortable supper;for Mr. Growther always insisted that since his cat and dog could "standhim, " they should fare as well as he did. 

Having cleared the table, Haldane lighted a candle--kerosene lamps werean abomination that Mr. Growther Would not abide--and began readingaloud the "Evening Spy. " The old gentleman half listened and half dozed, pricking up his ears at some tale of trouble or crime, and almostsnoring through politics and finance. At last he was half startled outof his chair by a loud, wrathful oath from Haldane. 

"Look here, young man, " he said; "the devil isn't so far off from eitherof us that you need shout for him. "

"True, indeed! he isn't far off, and he has everything his own way inthis world. Listen to this"--and he read with sharp, bitter emphasis thefollowing editorial paragraph, headed "Unnatural Depravity":

"Being ever inclined to view charitably the faults and failings ofothers, and to make allowance for the natural giddiness of youth, wegave a rather lenient estimate, not of the crime committed by Mr. Arnot's clerk, Egbert Haldane, but of the young man himself. It wouldseem that our disposition to be kindly led us into error, for we learnfrom our most respectable German contemporary, published in this city, that this same unscrupulous young fraud has been guilty of the meannessof taking advantage of a poor foreigner's ignorance of our language. Having found it impossible to obtain lodgings among those posted in thecurrent news of the day, and thus to impose on any one to whom he wasknown, he succeeded in obtaining board of a respectable German, and ranup as large a bill as possible at the bar, of course. When the landlordof the hotel and restaurant at last asked for a settlement, this youngscapegrace had the insolence to insist that he had paid every cent ofhis bill, though he had not a scrap of paper or proof to support hisassertion. Finding that this game of bluster would not succeed, and thathis justly incensed host was about to ask for his arrest, he speedilycame down from his high and virtuous mood, and compromised by pretendingto offer all the money he had. 

"This was undoubtedly a mere pretence, for he had worn a valuable watchin the morning, and had parted with it during the day. Though the sum heapparently had upon his person was scarcely half payment, thekind-hearted German took him at his word, and also left him seventy-fivecents to procure lodgings elsewhere. In what role of crime he will nextappear it is hard to guess; but it seems a pity that Mr. Arnot did notgive him the full benefit of the law, for thus the community would havebeen rid, for a time at least, of one who can serve his day andgeneration better at breaking stone under the direction of the Statethan by any methods of his own choosing. He is one of those phenomenalcases of unnatural depravity; for, as far as we can learn, he comes froma home of wealth, refinement, and even Christian culture. We warn ourfellow-citizens against him. "

"A-a-a-h!" ejaculated Mr. Growther, in prolonged and painful utterance, as if one of his teeth had just been drawn. "Now that is tough! I don'twonder you think Satan had a finger in that pie. Didn't I tell you theeditors made up half that's in the papers? I don't know what startedthis story. There's generally a little beginning, like the seed of a bigflauntin' weed; but I don't believe you did so mean a thing. In fact, Idon't think I'm quite mean enough to have done it myself. "

"You, and perhaps one other person, will be the only ones in town, then, who will not believe it against me. I know I've acted wrong and like afool; but what chance has a fellow when he gets credit for evil only, and a hundred-fold more evil than is in him? Curse it all! since everyone insists that I have gone wholly over to the devil, I might as wellgo. "

"That's it, that's it! we're all right at his elbow, a-helpin' himalong. But how did this story start? The scribbler in the German papercouldn't have spun it, like a spider, hully out of his own in'ards. "

Haldane told him the whole story, sketching the "kind-hearted German" inhis true colors. 

At its conclusion Mr. Growther drew a long, meditative breath, andremarked sententiously, "Well, I've allers heard that 'sperience was anawfully dear school; but we do learn in it. I'll bet my head you willnever pay another dollar without takin' a receipt. "

"What chance will I ever have to make another dollar? They have raised amad-dog cry against me, and I shall be treated as if I were a dog. "

"Why don't you go home, then?"

"I'll go to the bottom of the river first. "

"That would suit the devil, the crabs, and the eels, " remarked Mr. Growther. 

"Faugh! crabs and eels!" exclaimed Haldane with a shudder of disgust. 

"That's all you'd find at the bottom of the river, except mud, "responded Mr. Growther, effectually quenching all tragic and suicidalideas by his prosaic statement of the facts. "Young man, " he continued, tottering to his feet, "I s'pose you realize that you are in a prettybad fix. I ain't much of a mother at comfortin'. When I feel most sorryfor any one I'm most crabbed. It's one of my mean ways. If there's manyscrews loose in you, you will go under. If you are rash, or cowardly, orweak--that is, ready to give up-like--you will make a final mess of yourlife; but if you fight your way up you'll be a good deal of a man. Seemsto me if I was as young and strong as you be, I'd pitch in. I'd spitemyself; I'd spite the devil; I'd beat the world; I'd just grit my teeth, and go fur myself and everything else that stood in my way, and I'd whip'em all out, or I'd die a-fightin'. But I've got so old and rheumaticthat all I can do is cuss. A-a-h!"

"I will take your advice--I will fight it out, " exclaimed the excitableyouth with an oath. Between indignation and desperation he wasthoroughly aroused. He already cherished only revenge toward the world, and he was catching the old man's vindictive spirit toward himself. 

Mr. Growther seemed almost as deeply incensed as his guest at the grossinjustice of the paragraph, which, nevertheless, would be widely copied, and create public opinion, and so double the difficulties in the youngman's way; and he kept up as steady a grumble and growl as had hissorely disquieted dog in the afternoon. But Haldane lowered at the firefor a long time in silence. 

"Well, " concluded the quaint old cynic, "matters can't be mended byswearin' at 'em, is advice I often give myself, but never take. I s'poseit's bed-time. To-morrow we will take another squint at your uglyfortunes, and see which side pints toward daylight. Would you mindreadin' a chapter in the Bible first?"

"What have I to do with the Bible?"

"Well, the Bible has a good deal to say about you and most otherpeople. "

"Like those who pretend to believe it, it has nothing good to say aboutme. I've had about all the hard names I can stand for one night. "

"Read where it hits some other folks, then. "

"Oh, I will read anywhere you like. It's a pity if I can't do that muchfor perhaps the only one now left in the world who would show me akindness. "

"That's a good fellow. There's one chapter I'd like to hear to-night. The words come out so strong and hearty-like that they generally expressjust my feelin's. Find the twenty-third chapter of Matthew, and readwhere it says, 'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites. '"

Haldane read the chapter with much zest, crediting all its denunciationto others, in accordance with a very general fashion. When he came tothe words, "Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, " the old man fairlyrubbed his hands together in his satisfaction, exclaiming:

"That's it! that's genuine! that's telling us sleek, comfortable sinnersthe truth without mincin'! No smooth, deludin' lies in that chapter. That's the way to talk to people who don't want their right hand to knowwhat cussedness their left hand is up to. Now, Jeremiah Growther, thenext time you want to do a mean thing that you wouldn't have all thetown know, just remember what a wrigglin' snake in the grass you are. "

With this personal exhortation Mr. Growther brought the evening to aclose, and, having directed Haldane to his comfortable quarters, hobbledand mumbled off to an adjoining room, and retired for the night. Thedying fire revealed for a time the slumbering cat and dog, but graduallythe quaint old kitchen faded into a blank of darkness. 

CHAPTER XXV

A PAPER PONIARD

Throughout an early breakfast Mr. Growther appeared to be revolving somesubject in his mind, and his question, at last, was only seeminglyabrupt, for it came at the end of quite a long mental altercation, inwhich, of course, he took sides against himself. 

"I say, young man, do you think you could stand me?"

"What do you mean?" asked Haldane. 

"Well, before you say no, you ought to realize all the bearin's of thecase. The town is down on you. Respectable people won't have nothin' todo with you, any more than they would walk arm in arm with thecharcoal-man in their Sunday toggery. I aren't respectable, so you can'tblacken me. I've showed you I'm not afraid to trust you. You can't sleepin the streets, you can't eat pavin'-stuns and mud, and you won't gohome. This brings me to the question again: Can you stand me? I warn youI'm an awful oncomfortable customer to live with; I won't take any meanadvantage of you in this respect, and, what's more, I don't s'pose I'llbehave any better for your sake or anybody else's. I'm all finished andcooled off, like an old iron casting, and can't be bent or made over inany other shape. You're crooked enough, the Lord knows; but you're kindo' limber yet in your moral j'nts, and you may git yourself in decentshape if you have a chance. I've taken a notion to give you a chance. The only question is, Can you stand me?"

"It would be strange if I could not stand the only man in Hillaton whohas shown a human and friendly interest in me. But the thing I can'tstand is taking charity. "

"Who's asked you to take charity?"

"What else would it be--my living here on you?"

"I can open a boardin'-house if I want to, can't I? I have a right tolend my own money, I s'pose. You can open a ledger account with me to apenny. What's more, I'll give you a receipt every time, " added the oldman, with a twinkle in his eye; "you don't catch me gettin' into thepapers as 'kind-hearted' Mr. Growther. "

"Mr. Growther, I can scarcely understand your kindness to me, for I haveno claim on you whatever. As much as I would like to accept your offer, I scarcely feel it right to do so. I will bring discredit to you withcertainty, and my chances of repaying you seem very doubtful now. "

"Now, look here, young man, I've got to take my choice 'twixt two evils. On one side is you. I don't want you botherin' round, seein' my meanways. For the sake of decency I'll have to try to hold in a littlebefore you, while before my cat and dog I can let out as I please; soI'd rather live alone. But the tother side is a plaguy sight worse. If Ishould let you go a-wanderin' off you don't know where, the same as if Ishould start my dog off with a kick, knowin' that every one else in townwould add a kick or fire a stun, I couldn't sleep nights or enjoy myvittels. I'd feel so mean that I should jest set and cuss myself frommornin' till night. Look here, now; I couldn't stan' it, " concluded Mr. Growther, overcome by the picture of his own wretchedness. "Let's haveno more words. Come back every night till you can do better. Open anaccount with me. Charge what you please for board and lodgin', and payall back with lawful interest, if it'll make you sleep better. " And soit was finally arranged. 

Haldane started out into the sun-lighted streets of the city as a manmight sally forth in an enemy's country, fearing the danger that lurkedon every side, and feeling that his best hope was that he might beunnoted and unknown. He knew that the glance of recognition would alsobe a glance of aversion and scorn, and, to his nature, any manifestationof contempt was worse than a blow. He now clung to his literary venturesas the one rope by which he could draw himself out of the depths intowhich he had fallen, and felt sure that he must hear from some of hismanuscripts within a day or two. He went to the post-office in a tremorof anxiety only to hear the usual response, "Nothing for E. H. "

With heavy steps and a sinking heart he then set out in his search forsomething to do, and after walking weary miles he found only a small bitof work, for which he received but small compensation. He returneddespondently in the evening to his refuge at Mr. Growther's cottage, andhis quaint good Samaritan showed his sympathy by maintaining a perpetualgrowl at himself and the "disjinted world" in general. But Haldanelowered at the fire and said little. 

Several successive days brought disappointment, discouragement, and evenworse. The slanderous paragraph concerning his relations with Mr. Shrumpf was copied by the _Morning Courier, _ with even fuller andseverer comment. Occasionally upon the street and in his efforts toprocure employment, he was recognized, and aversion, scorn, or roughdismissal followed instantly. 

For a time he honestly tried to obtain the means of livelihood, but thisbecame more and more difficult. People of whom he asked employmentnaturally inquired his name, and he was fairly learning to hate it fromwitnessing the malign changes in aspect and manner which its utteranceinvariably produced. The public had been generally warned against him, and to the natural distrust inspired by his first crime was added avirtuous indignation at the supposed low trickery in his dealing withthe magnanimous Mr. Shrumpf, "the poor but kind-hearted German. "Occasionally, that he might secure a day's work in full or in part, hewas led to suppress his name and give an _alias_. 

He felt as if he had been caught in a swift black torrent that wassweeping him down in spite of all that he could do; he also felt thatthe black tide would eventually plunge him into an abyss into which hedared not look. He struggled hard to regain a footing, and clutchedalmost desperately at everything that might impede or stay his swiftdescent; but seemingly in vain. 

His mental distress was such that he was unable to write, even with theaid of stimulants; and he also felt that it was useless to attemptanything further until he heard from the manuscripts already ineditorial hands. But the ominous silence in regard to them remainedunbroken, As a result, he began to give way to moods of the deepestgloom and despondency, which alternated with wild and reckless impulses. 

He was growing intensely bitter toward himself and all mankind. Even theimage of his kind friend, Mrs. Arnot, began to merge itself into merelythat of the wife of the man who had dealt him a blow from which he beganto fear he would never recover. He was too morbid to be just to any one, even himself, and he felt that she had deserted and turned against himalso, forgetting that he had given her no clew to his present place ofabode, and had sent a message indicating that he would regard any effortto discover him as officious and intrusive. He quite honestly believedthat by this time she had come to share in the general contempt andhostility which is ever cherished toward those whom society regards asnot only depraved and vile, but also dangerous to its peace. It seemedas if both she and Laura had receded from him to an immeasurabledistance, and he could not think of either without almost gnashing histeeth in rage at himself, and at what he regarded as his perverse andcruel fate. At times he would vainly endeavor to banish their imagesfrom his mind, but more often would indulge in wild and impossiblevisions of coming back to them in a dazzling halo of literary glory, andof overwhelming them with humiliation that they were so slow torecognize the genius which smouldered for weeks under their very eyes. 

But his dreams were in truth "baseless fabrics" for at last there came aletter addressed to "E. H. , " with the name of a popular literary paperprinted upon it. He clutched it with a hand that shook in his eagerness, and walked half a mile before finding a nook sufficiently secluded inwhich to open the fateful missive. There were moments as he hastenedthrough the streets when the crumpled letter was like a live coal in hishand; again it seemed throbbing with life, and he held it tighter, asthough it might escape. With a chill at heart he also admitted that thisbit of paper might be a poniard that would stab his hope and so destroyhim. 

He eventually entered a half-completed dwelling, which some one hadcommenced to build but was not able to finish. 

It was a wretched, prosaic place, that apparently had lost its valueeven to the owner, and had become to the public at large only anunsightly blot upon the street. There was no danger of his beingdisturbed here, for the walls were not sufficiently advanced to haveears, and even a modern ghost would scorn to haunt a place whose stainswere not those of age, and whose crumbling ruins resulted only fromsuperficial and half-finished work. Indeed, the prematurely old andabortive house had its best counterpart in the young man himself, whostole into one of its small, unplastered rooms with many a wary glance, as though it were a treasure-vault which he was bent on plundering. 

Feeling at last secure from observation, he tremblingly opened theletter, which he hoped contained the first instalment of wealth andfame. It was, indeed, from the editor of the periodical, and, remembering the avalanche of poetry and prose from beneath which thisunfortunate class must daily struggle into life and being, it wasunusually kind and full; but to Haldane it was cruel as death--aSpartan short-sword, only long enough to pierce his heart. It was to thefollowing effect:

"E. H. --DEAR SIR: It would be easier to throw your communication intothe waste-basket than thus to reply; and such, I may add, is the usualfate of productions like yours. But something in your letteraccompanying the MSS. Caught my attention, and induced me to give you alittle good advice, which I fear you will not take, however. You areevidently a young and inexperienced man, and I gather from your letterthat you are in trouble of some nature, and, also, that you are buildinghopes, if not actually depending, upon the crude labors of your pen. Letme tell you frankly at once that literature is not your forte. It youhave sent literary work to other parties like that inclosed to me youwill never hear from it again. In the first place, you do not writecorrectly; in the second, you have nothing to say. We cannot afford toprint words merely--much less pay for them. What is worse, many of yoursentences are so unnatural and turgid as to suggest that you sought instimulants a remedy for paucity of ideas. Take friendly advice. Attemptsomething that you are capable of doing, and build your hopes on _that_. Any honest work--even sawing wood--well done, is better than childishefforts to perform what, to us, is impossible. Before you can doanything in the literary world it is evident that years of culture andcareful reading would be necessary. But, as I have before said, yourtalents do not seem to be in this direction. Life is too precious to bewasted in vain endeavor; and that reminds me that I have spent severalmoments, and from the kindliest motives, in stating to you facts whichyou may regard as insults. But were the circumstances the same I wouldgive my own son the same advice. Do not be discouraged; there is plentyof other work equally good and useful as that for which you seemunfitted. Faithfully yours, ---- ----"

CHAPTER XXVI

A SORRY KNIGHT

The writer has known men to receive mortal wounds in battle, of which, at the moment, they were scarcely conscious. The mind, in times of grandexcitement, has often risen so far superior to the material body thatonly by trickling blood or faintness have persons become aware of theirinjuries. But "a wounded spirit, who can bear?" and when did hope, self-love, or pride, ever receive home-thrusts unconsciously?

The well-meaning letter, written by the kindly editor, and full ofwholesome advice, cut like a surgeon's knife in some desperate case whenit is a question whether the patient can endure the heroic treatmentnecessary. Haldane's stilted and unnatural tales had been projected intobeing by such fiery and violent means that they might almost be termedvolcanic in their origin; but the fused mass which was the result, resembled scoria or cinders rather than fine metal shaped into artisticforms. Although his manuscripts could have been sold in the world'smarket only by the pound, he had believed, or, at least, strongly hopedotherwise, like so many others, who, with beating hearts, have sent thechildren of their brains out to seek their fortunes with no betterresults. 

The unbroken and ominous silence of the returned manuscript is a severedisappointment even to those who from safe and happy homes have soughtto gain the public ear, and whose impelling motive toward literature isscarcely more than an impulse of vanity. But to Haldane the letter, which in giving the editorial estimate of one of his stories revealedthe fate of all the others, brought far more than a mere disappointment. It brought despair and the recklessness and demoralization whichinevitably follow. The public regarded him as a depraved, commonplacevagabond, eminent only in his capacity for evil and meanness, and he nowinclined strongly to the same view of himself. True self-respect he hadnever possessed, and his best substitute, pride, at last gave way. Hefelt that he was defeated for life, and the best that life could nowoffer was a brief career of sensual pleasure. Mrs. Arnot and LauraRomeyn were so far removed from him as the stars; it was torment tothink of them, and he would blot out their memory and the memory of allthat he had hoped for, with wine and excitement. It seemed to him thatthe world said to him with united voice, "Go to the devil, " and thenmade it impossible for him to do otherwise. 

Since he was defeated--since all his proud assurances to his mother thathe would, alone and unaided, regain his lost good name and position insociety, had proved but empty boasts--he would no longer hide the factfrom her, not in the hope of being received at home as a repentantprodigal (even the thought of such a course was unendurable), but withthe purpose of obtaining from her the means of entering upon a life ofvicious pleasure. 

The young man's father--impelled both by his strong attachment for hiswife, and also by the prudent forethought with which men seek to protectand provide for those they love, long after they have passed away fromearthly life--had left his property wholly in trust to his wife, associating with her one or two other chosen counsellors. As long as shelived and remained unmarried she controlled it, the husband trusting toher affection for her children to make suitable provision for them. Hehad seen with prophetic anxiety the mother's fond indulgence of theironly son, and the practical man dreaded the consequences. He thereforecommunicated to her verbally, and also embodied in his will, his wishthat his son should have no control over the principal of such portionof the estate as would eventually fall to him until he had established acharacter that secured the confidence of all good men, and satisfied thejudgment of the cautious co-executors. The provisions of the will stillfurther required that, should the young man prove erratic and vicious, his income should be limited in such ways as would, as far as possible, curb excess. 

Haldane knew all this, and in the days of his confidence in himself andhis brilliant future had often smiled at these "absurd restrictions. "The idea that there would ever be any reason for their enforcement waspreposterous, and the thought of his fond, weak mother refusing anythingthat he demanded, was still further out of the range of possibility. 

The wretched youth now sank into a far lower depth than he had ever yetreached. He deliberately resolved to take advantage of that mother'sweakness, and for the basest ends. While under the influence of hope andpride, he had resolved to receive no assistance even from her, so thathe might wholly claim the credit of regaining all that he had lost; butnow, in the recklessness of despair, he proposed not only to ask for allthe money he could obtain, but, if necessary, extort it by any means inhis power. 

He and the forlorn place of his bitter revery grew more and more intoharmony. The small, half-finished apartment of the ruinous new housebecame more truly the counterpart of his life, it was bare; it wasunsightly from the debris of its own discolored and crumbling walls. Thepossibility of sweet home scenes had passed from it, and it had become aplace in which an orgy might be hidden, or some revolting crimecommitted. To precisely this use Haldane put his temporary refuge beforeleaving it; for excesses and evil deeds that the mind has deliberatelyresolved upon are virtually accomplished facts as far as the wrong-doeris concerned. Before leaving his dingy hiding-place Haldane had in thedepths of his soul been guilty of drunkenness and all kinds of excess. He also purposed unutterable baseness toward the widowed mother whom, byevery principle of true manhood, he was bound to cherish and shield; andhe had in volition more certainly committed the act of self-destructionthan does the poor wretch who, under some mad, half-insane impulse, makes permanent by suicide the evils a little fortitude and patienteffort might have remedied. There is no self-murder so hopeless andwicked as that of deliberate sin against one's own body and soul. 

No man becomes a saint or villain in an hour or by a single step; butthere are times when evil tendencies combine with adverse influences andcircumstances to produce sudden and seemingly fatal havoc in character. As the world goes, Haldane was a well-meaning youth, although cursedwith evil habits and tendencies, when he entered the isolated, half-finished house. He was bad and devilish when he came out upon thestreet again, and walked recklessly toward the city, caring not who sawor recognized him. In the depths of his heart he had become an enemy tosociety, and, so far from hoping to gain its respect and good-will, hedefied and intended to outrage it to the end of life. 

A man in such a mood gravitates with almost certainty toward theliquor-saloon, and Haldane naturally commenced drinking at the variousdens whose doors stood alluringly open. His slender purse did not givehim the choice of high-priced wines, and to secure the mad excitementand oblivion he craved, only fiery compounds were ordered--such as mighthave been distilled in the infernal regions to accomplish infernalresults; and they soon began to possess him like a legion of evilspirits. 

If Shakespeare characterized the "invisible spirit of wine" as a "devil"in the unsophisticated days of old, when wine was wine, and not ahell-broth concocted of poisonous drugs, what unspeakable fiends mustlurk in the grimy bottles whose contents, analyzed and explained, wouldappall some, at least, of the stolid and stony-hearted venders!

Haldane soon felt himself capable of any wickedness, any crime. Hebecame a human volcano, that might at any moment pass into a violent andmurderous action, regardless of consequences--indeed, as utterlyincapable of foreseeing and realizing them as the mountain that belchesdestruction on vineyard and village. 

We regard ourselves as a civilized and Christian people, and yet wetolerate on every corner places where men are transformed into incarnatedevils, and sent forth to run amuck in our streets, and outrage thehelpless women and children in their own homes. The naked inhabitants ofDahomey could do no worse in this direction. 

But Haldane was not destined to end his orgy in the lurid glare of atragedy, for, as the sun declined, the miserable day was brought to awretched and fitting close. Unconsciously he had strayed to the saloonon whose low steps Messrs. Van Wink and Ketchem had left him on thememorable night from which he dated his downfall. Of course he did notrecognize the place, but there was one within that associated himinseparably with it, and also with misfortunes of his own. As Haldaneleaned unsteadily against the bar a seedy-looking man glared at him amoment, and then stepped to his side, saying:

"I'll take a few dhrinks wid ye. Faix! after all the trouble ye've beento me ye oughter kape me in dhrink the year. "

Turning to the speaker, the young man recognized Pat M'Cabe, whom healso associated with his evil fortunes, and toward whom he now felt astrong vindictiveness, the sudden and unreasoning anger of intoxication. In reply, therefore, he threw the contents of his glass into Pat's face, saying with a curse:

"That is the way I drink with such as you. "

Instantly there was a bar-room brawl of the ordinary brutal type, fromwhose details we gladly escape. Attracted by the uproar, a policeman wassoon on hand, and both the combatants were arrested and marched off tothe nearest police station. Bruised, bleeding, disheveled, and with rentgarments, Haldane again passed through the streets as a criminal, withthe rabble hooting after him. But now there was no intolerable sense ofshame as at first. He had become a criminal at heart; he haddeliberately and consciously degraded himself, and his whole aspect hadcome to be in keeping with his character. 

It may be objected that the transformation had been too rapid. It hadnot been rapid. His mother commenced preparing him for this in thenursery by her weak indulgence. She had sown the seeds of which hispresent actions were the legitimate outgrowth. The weeds of his evilnature had been unchecked when little, and now they were growing so rankas to overshadow all. 

Multitudes go to ruin who must trace their wrong bias back to cultivatedand even Christian homes. 

CHAPTER XXVII

GOD SENT HIS ANGEL

The mad excitement of anger and drunkenness was speedily followed bystupor, and the night during which Haldane was locked up in thestation-house was a blank. The next morning he was decidedly ill as theresult of his debauch; for the after-effects of the vile liquor he haddrank was such as to make any creature save rational man shun it in thefuture with utter loathing. 

But the officers of the law had not the slightest consideration for hisaching head and jarring nerves. He was hustled off to the police courtwith others, and he now seemed in harmony with the place and company. 

Pat M'Cabe was a veteran in these matters, and had his witnesses ready, who swore to the truth, and anything else calculated to assist Pat, their crony, out of his scrape. Unfortunately for Haldane, the truth wasagainst him, and he remained sullen and silent, making no defence. Thenatural result, therefore, of the brief hearing, was his committal tothe common jail for ten days, and the liberation of Pat, with a severereprimand. 

Thus, after the lapse of a few brief weeks, Haldane found himself in thesame cell whence he had gone out promising and expecting to accomplishso much. He could not help recalling his proud words to his mother andMrs. Arnot as he looked around the bare walls, and he was sufficientlyhimself again to realize partially how complete and disgraceful had beenhis defeat. But such was his mood that it could find no betterexpression than a malediction upon himself and the world in general. Then, throwing himself upon his rude and narrow couch, he again resignedhimself to his stupor, from which he had been aroused to receive hissentence. 

It was late in the afternoon when he awoke, and his cell was alreadygrowing dusky with the coming night. It was a place congenial toshadows, and they came early and lingered till the sun was high. 

But as Haldane slowly regained full consciousness, and recalled all thathad transpired, he felt himself to be under a deeper shadow than thenight could cast. The world condemned him, and he deserved condemnation;but he was also deserving of pity. Scarcely more than twenty, he hadseemingly spoiled his life utterly. It was torment to remember the past, and the future was still darker; for his outraged physical nature sobitterly resented its wrongs by racking pains that it now seemed to himthat even a brief career of sensual gratification was impossible, or socounterbalanced with suffering as to be revolting. Though scarcely morethan across the threshold of life, existence had become an unmitigatedevil. Had he been brought up in an atmosphere of flippant scepticism hewould have flung it away as he would a handful of nettles; but hischildish memory had been made familiar with that ancient Book whosetruths, like anchors, enable many a soul on the verge of wreck tooutride the storm. He was too well acquainted with its teachings toentertain for a moment the shallow theory that a man can escape theconsequences of folly, villany, and unutterable baseness by merelyceasing to breathe. 

He could not eat the coarse food brought to him for supper, and his onlycraving was for something to quench his feverish thirst. His longlethargy was followed by corresponding sleeplessness and preternaturalactivity of brain. That night became to him like the day of judgment;for it seemed as if his memory would recall everything he had ever doneor said, and place all before him in the most dreary and discouragingaspect. 

He saw his beautiful and aristocratic home, which he had forfeited socompletely that the prison would be more endurable than the forced andpainful toleration of his presence, which was the best he could hope forfrom his mother and sisters; and he felt that he would much rather staywhere he was for life than again meet old neighbors and companions. Buthe now saw how, with that home and his father's honored name as hisvantage ground, he might have made himself rich and honored. 

The misspent days and years of the past became like so many reproachfulghosts, and he realized that he had idled away the precious seed-time ofhis life, or, rather, had been busy sowing thorns and nettles, that hadgrown all too quickly and rankly. Thousands had been spent on hiseducation; and yet he was oppressed with a sense of his ignorance andhelplessness. Rude contact with the world had thoroughly banishedself-conceit, and he saw that his mind was undisciplined and hisknowledge so superficial and fragmentary as to be almost useless. Theeditor of the paper whose columns he had hoped to illumine told him thathe could not even write correctly. 

While in bitterness of soul he cursed himself for his wasted life, heknew that he was not wholly to blame. Indeed, in accordance with a traitas old as fallen man, he sought to lay the blame on another. He saw thathis own folly had ever found an ally in his mother's indulgence, andthat, instead of holding him with a firm yet gentle hand to his tasksand duties, she had been the first to excuse him from them and topalliate his faults. Instead of recalling her fond and blind idolatrywith tenderness, he felt like one who had been treacherously poisonedwith a wine that was sweet while it rested on the palate, but whoseafter-taste is vile, and whose final effect is death. 

There is no memory that we cherish so sacredly and tenderly as that ofour parents' kind and patient love. It often softens the heart of thehardened man and abandoned woman when all other influences arepowerless. But when love degenerates into idolatry and indulgence, andthose to whom the child is given as a sacred trust permit it to growawry, and develop into moral deformity, men and women, as did Haldane, may breathe curses on the blindness and weakness that was the primalcause of their life-failure. Throughout that long and horrible night hefelt only resentment toward his mother, and cherished no better purposetoward her than was embodied in his plan to wring from her, even bymethods that savored of blackmail, the means of living a dissipated lifein some city where he was unknown, and could lose himself in themultitude. 

But the ten days of enforced seclusion and solitude that must interveneseemed like an eternity. With a shudder he thought of the real eternity, beyond, when the power to excite or stupefy his lower nature would begone forever. That shadow was so dark and cold that it seemed to chillhis very soul, and by a resolute effort of will he compelled his mind todwell only on the immediate future and the past. 

Day at last dawned slowly and dimly in his cell, and found him eitherpacing up and down like some wild creature in its cage, turning so oftenby reason of the limited space as to be almost dizzy, or else sitting onhis couch with his haggard face buried in his hands. 

After fighting all night against the impulse to think about Mrs. Arnotand her niece, he at last gave up the struggle, and permitted his mindto revert to them. Such thoughts were only pain now, and yet for somereason it seemed as if his mind were drawn irresistibly toward them. Hefelt that his deep regret was as useless and unavailing as the Novemberwind that sweeps back and forth the withered and fallen leaves. Hiswhole frame would at times tremble with gusts of remorseful passion, andagain he would sigh long and drearily. 

He now realized what a priceless opportunity he had lost. It was oncehis privilege to enter Mrs. Arnot's beautiful home assured of welcome. She had been deeply interested in him for his mother's sake, and mighthave become so for his own. He had been privileged to meet Laura Romeynas her equal, at least in social estimation, and he might have madehimself worthy of her esteem, and possibly of her affection. He saw thathe had foolishly clamored, like a spoiled child, for that which he couldonly hope to possess by patient waiting and manly devotion; and now, with a regret that was like a serpent's tooth, he felt that suchdevotion might have been rewarded. 

But a few months ago, whose life had been more rich with promise thanhis, or to whom had been given a better vantage-ground? And yet he hadalready found the lowest earthly perdition possible, and had lost hopeof anything better. 

In his impotent rage and despair he fairly gnashed his teeth and cursedhimself, his fate, and those who had led to his evil fortunes. Then, bya natural revulsion of feeling, he sobbed like a child that has lost itsway and can discover no returning path, and whose heart the darkness ofthe fast-approaching night fills with unutterable dread. 

He was a criminal--in his despair he never hoped to be anythingelse--but he was not a hardened criminal and was still capable ofwishing to be different. In the memory of his bitter experience a pureand honorable life now appeared as beautiful as it was impossible. Hehad no expectation, however, of ever living such a life, for pride, thecornerstone of his character, had given way, and he was too greatlydiscouraged at the time to purpose reform even in the future. Withoutthe spur and incentive of hope we become perfectly helpless in evil;therefore all doctrines and philosophies which tend to quench or limithope, or which are bounded by the narrow horizon of time and earth, are, in certain emergencies, but dead weights, dragging down the soul. 

At last, from sheer exhaustion, he threw himself on his couch, and fellinto a troubled sleep, filled with broken and distorted visions of thescenes that had occupied his waking hours. But he gradually becamequieter, and it appeared in his dream as if he saw a faint dawning inthe east which grew brighter until a distinct ray of light streamed froman infinite distance to himself. Along this shining pathway an angelseemed approaching him. The vision grew so distinct and real that hestarted up and saw Mrs. Arnot sitting in the doorway, quietly watchinghim. Confused and oblivious of the past, he stepped forward to speak toher with the natural instinct of a gentleman. Then the memory of allthat had occurred rolled before him like a black torrent, and he shrankback to his couch and buried his face in his hands. But when Mrs. Arnotcame and placed her hand on his shoulder, saying gently, but verygravely, "Egbert, since you would not come to me I have come to you, " hefelt that his vision was still true, and that God had sent his angel. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

FACING THE CONSEQUENCES

A young man of Haldane's age is capable of despairing thoughts, and evenof desperate moods, of quite extended continuance; but it usuallyrequires a long lifetime of disaster and sin to bury hope so deep thatthe stone of its sepulchre is not rolled away as the morning dawns. Haldane had thought that his hope was dead; but Mrs. Arnot's presence, combined with her manner, soon made it clear, even to himself, that itwas not; and yet it was but a weak and trembling hope, scarcely assuredof its right to exist, that revived at her touch and voice. His heartboth clung to and shrank from the pure, good woman who stood beside him. 

He trembled, and his breast heaved convulsively for a few moments, andshe quietly waited until he should grow more calm, only stroking hisbowed head once or twice with a slight and reassuring caress. At last heasked in a low, hoarse voice:

"Do you know why I am here?"

"Yes, Egbert. "

"And yet you have come in kindness--in mercy, rather. "

"I have come because I am deeply interested in you. "

"I am not worthy--I am not fit for you to touch. "

"I am glad you feel so. "

"Then why do you come?"

"Because I wish to help you to become worthy. "

"That's impossible. It's too late. "

"Perhaps it is. That is a question for you alone to decide; but I wishyou to think well before you do decide it. "

"Pardon me, Mrs. Arnot, " he said emphatically, raising his head, anddashing away bitter tears; "the world has decided that question for me, and all have said in one harsh, united voice, 'You shall not rise. ' Ithas ground me under its heel as vindictively as if I were a viper. Youare so unlike the world that you don't know it. It has given me nochance whatever. "

"Egbert, what have you to do with the world?"

"God knows I wanted to recover what I had lost, " he continued in thesame rapid tone. "God knows I left this cell weeks since with the honestpurpose of working my way up to a position that would entitle me to yourrespect, and change my mother's shame into pride. But I found a mad-dogcry raised against me. And this professedly Christian town has fairlyhunted me back to this prison. "

Mrs. Arnot sighed deeply, but after a moment said, "I do not excuse theChristian town, neither can I excuse you. "

"You too, then, blame me, and side against me. "

"No, Egbert, I side with you, and yet I blame you deeply; but I pity youmore. "

He rose, and paced the cell with his old, restless steps. "It's no use, "he said; "the world says, 'Go to the devil, ' and gives me no chance todo otherwise. "

"Do you regard the world--whatever you may mean by the phrase--as yourfriend?"

"Friend!" he repeated, with bitter emphasis. 

"Why, then, do you take its advice? I did not come here to tell you togo to perdition. "

"But if the world sets its face against me like a flint, what is therefor me to do but to remain in prison or hide in a desert, unless I dowhat I had purposed, defy it and strike back, though it be only as aworm that tries to sting the foot that crushes it. "

"Egbert, if you should die, the world would forget that you had everexisted, in a few days. "

"Certainly. It would give me merely a passing thought as of a nuisancethat had been abated. "

"Well, then, would it not be wise to forget the world for a littlewhile? You are shut away from it for the present, and it cannot molestyou. In the meantime you can settle some very important personalquestions. The world has power over your fate only as you give it power. You need not lie like a helpless worm in its path, waiting to becrushed. Get up like a man, and take care of yourself. The world may letyou starve, but it cannot prevent you from becoming good and true andmanly; if you do become so, however, rest assured the world willeventually find a place for you, and, perhaps, an honored place. But bethat as it may, a good Christian man is sustained by something far moresubstantial than the world's breath. "

Out of respect for Mrs. Arnot, Haldane was silent. He supposed that herproposed remedy for his desperate troubles was that he should "become aChristian, " and to this phrase he had learned to give only the mostconventional meaning. 

"Becoming a Christian, " in his estimation, was the making of certainprofessions, going through peculiar and abnormal experiences, andjoining a church, the object of all this being to escape a "wrath tocome" in the indefinite future. To begin with, he had not the slightestidea how to set in motion these spiritual evolutions, had he desiredthem; and to his intense and practical nature the whole subject was asunattractive as a library of musty and scholastic books. He wanted someremedy that applied to this world, and would help him now. He did notassociate Mrs. Arnot's action with Christian principle, but believed itto be due to the peculiar and natural kindness of her heart. Christiansin general had not troubled themselves about him, and, as far as hecould judge, had turned as coldly from him as had others. His mother hadalways been regarded as an eminently religious woman, and yet he knewthat she was morbidly sensitive to the world's opinion and society'sverdict. 

From childhood he had associated religion with numerous Sundayrestraints and the immaculate mourning-dress which seemed chiefly tooccupy his mother's thoughts during the hour preceding service. He hadno conception of a faith that could be to him what the Master's strongsustaining hand was to the disciple who suddenly found himself sinkingin a stormy sea. 

It is not strange that the distressed in body or mind turn away from areligion of dreary formalities and vague, uncomprehended mentalprocesses. Instant and practical help is what is craved; and just suchhelp Christ ever gave when he came to manifest God's will and ways tomen. By whose authority do some religious teachers now lead thesuffering through such a round-about, intricate, or arid path of thingsto be done and doctrines to be accepted before bringing them to Christ?

But when a mind has become mystified with preconceived ideas andprejudices, it is no easy task to reveal to it the truth, howeversimple. Mrs. Arnot had come into the light but slowly herself, and shehad passed through too many deep and prolonged spiritual experiences tohope for any immediate and radical change in Haldane. Indeed, she was ingreat doubt whether he would ever receive the faithful words sheproposed speaking to him; and she fully believed that anything heattempted in his own strength would again end in disheartening failure. 

"Egbert, " she said gently, but very gravely, "have you fully settled itin your own mind that I am your friend and wish you well?"

"How can I believe otherwise, since you are here, and speaking to me asyou do?"

"Well, I am going to test your faith in me and my kindness. I am goingto speak plainly, and perhaps you may think even harshly. You are verysick, and if I am to be your physician I must give you some sharp, decisive treatment. Will you remember through it all that my only motiveis to make you well?"

"I will try to. "

"You have kept away from me a long time. Perhaps when released from thisplace you will again avoid me, and I may never have another opportunitylike the present. Now, while you have a chance to think, I am going toask you to face the consequences of your present course. Within an hourafter passing out of this cell you will have it in your power to trampleon your better nature and stupefy your mind. But now, if you will, youhave a chance to use the powers God has given you, and settle finally onyour plan of life. "

"I have already trampled on my manhood--what is worse, I have lost it. Ihaven't any courage or strength left. "

"That can scarcely be true of one but little more than twenty. You areto be here in quietness for the next ten days, I learn. It is myintention, so far as it is in my power to bring it about, that youdeliberately face the consequences of your present course during thistime. By the consequences I do not mean what the world will think ofyou, but, rather, the personal results of your action--what you mustsuffer while you are in the world, and what you must suffer when farbeyond the world. Egbert, are you pleased with yourself? are yousatisfied with yourself?"

"I loathe myself. "

"You can get away from the world--you are away from it now, and soon youwill be away from it finally--but you can never get away from yourself. Are you willing to face an eternal consciousness of defeat, failure, andpersonal baseness?"

He shuddered, but was silent. 

"There is no place in God's pure heaven for the drunkard--the morallyloathsome and deformed. Are you willing to be swept away among the chaffand the thorns, and to have, forever, the shameful and humiliatingknowledge that you rightfully belong to the rubbish of the universe? Areyou willing to have a sleepless memory tell you in every torturing waypossible what a noble, happy man you might have been, but would not be?Your power to drown memory and conscience, and stupefy your mind, willlast a little while only at best. How are you going to endure the timewhen you must remember everything and think of everything? These aremore important questions than what the world thinks of you. "

"Have you no pity?" he groaned. 

"Yes, my heart overflows with pity. Is it not kindness to tell youwhither your path is leading? If I had the power I would lay hold ofyou, and force you to come with me into the path of life and safety, "she answered, with a rush of tears to her eyes. 

Her sympathy touched him deeply, and disarmed her words of all power toawaken resentment. 

"Mrs. Arnot, " he cried, passionately, "I did mean--I did try--to dobetter when I left this place; but, between my own accursed weakness andthe hard-hearted world, I am here again, and almost without hope. "

"Egbert, though I did not discourage you at the time, I had little hopeof your accomplishing anything when you left this cell some weeks since. You went out to regain your old position and the world's favor, as onemight look for a jewel or sum of money he had lost. You can never gaineven these advantages in the way you proposed, and if you enjoy themagain the cause will exist, not in what you do only, but chiefly in whatyou _are_. When you started out to win the favor of society, fromwhich you had been alienated partly by misfortune, but largely throughyour own wrong action, there was no radical change in your character, oreven in your controlling motives. You regretted the evil because of itsimmediate and disagreeable consequences. I do not excuse the world'sharshness toward the erring; but, after all, if you can disabuse yourmind of prejudice you will admit that its action is very natural, andwould, probably, have been your own before you passed under this cloud. Consider what the world knows of you. It, after all, is quite shrewd injudging whom it may trust and whom it is safe to keep at arm's-length. Knowing yourself and your own weaknesses as you do, could you honestlyrecommend yourself to the confidence of any one? With your characterunchanged, what guarantee have you against the first temptation or gustof passion to which you are subjected? You had no lack of wounded prideand ambition when you started out, but you will surely admit that suchfeelings are of little value compared with Christian integrity and manlyprinciple, which render anything dishonorable or base impossible. 

"I do not consider the world's favor worth very much, but the world'srespect is, for it usually respects only what is respectable. As youform a character that you can honestly respect yourself, you will findsociety gradually learning to share in that esteem. Believe me, Egbert, if you ever regain the world's lost favor, which you value so highly, you will discover the first earnest of it in your own changed andpurified character. The world will pay no heed to any amount ofself-assertion, and will remain equally indifferent to appeals andupbraidings; but sooner or later it will find out just what you are inyour essential life, and will estimate you accordingly. I have dwelt onthis phase of your misfortune fully, because I see that it weighs soheavily on your heart. Can you accept my judgment in the matter?Remember, I have lived nearly three times as long as you have, and speakfrom ripe experience. I have always been a close observer of society, and am quite sure I am right. If you were my own son I would use thesame words. "

"Mrs. Arnot, " he replied slowly, with contracted brow, "you are givingme much to think about. I fear I have been as stupid as I have been bad. My whole life seems one wretched blunder. "

"Ah, if you will only _think_, I shall have strong hopes of you. But inmeasuring these questions do not use the inch rule of time and earthonly. As I have said before, remember you will soon have done withearth forever, but never can you get away from God, nor be rid ofyourself. You are on wretched terms with both, and will be, whateverhappens, until your nature is brought into harmony with God's will. Weare so made, so designed in our every fibre, that evil tortures us likea diseased nerve; and it always will till we get rid of it. Therefore, Egbert, remember--O that I could burn it into your consciousness--thebest that you can gain from your proposed evil course is a brief respitein base and sensual stupefaction, or equally artificial and unmanlyexcitement, and then endless waking, bitter memories, and torturingregret. Face this truth now, before it is too late. Good-by for a time. I will come again when I can; or you can send for me when you please;"and she gave him her hand in cordial pressure. 

He did not say a word, but his face was very white, and it was evidentthat her faithful words had opened a prospect that had simply appalledhim. 

CHAPTER XXIX

HOW EVIL ISOLATES

If Haldane had been left alone on an ice-floe in the Arctic Ocean hecould scarcely have felt worse than he did during the remainder of theday after Mrs. Arnot's departure. A dreary and increasing sense ofisolation oppressed him. The words of his visitor, "What have you to dowith the world?" and "If you were dead it would forget you in a fewdays, " repeated themselves over and over again. His vindictive feelingagainst society died out in the consciousness of his weakness andinsignificance. What is the use of one's smiting a mountain with hisfist? Only the puny hand feels the blow. The world became, under Mrs. Arnot's words, too large and vague a generality even to be hated. 

In order to be a misanthrope one must also be an egotist, dwarfing theobjects of his spite, and exaggerating the small atom that has arrayeditself against the universe. It is a species of insanity, wherein a mindhas lost perception of the correct relationship between differentexistences. The poor hypochondriac who imagined himself a mountain was aliving satire on many of his fellow-creatures, who differ only in beingable to keep similar delusions to themselves. 

Mrs. Arnot's plain, honest, yet kindly words had thrown down the wallsof prejudice, and Haldane's mind lay open to the truth. As has beensaid, his first impression was a strange and miserable sense ofloneliness. He saw what a slender hold he had upon the rest of humanity. The majority knew nothing of him, while, with few exceptions, those whowere aware of his existence despised and detested him, and would breathemore freely if assured of his death. He instinctively felt that thenatural affections of his mother and sisters were borne down and almostoverwhelmed by his course and character. If they had any visitors in theseclusion to which his disgrace had driven them, his name would beavoided with morbid sensitiveness, and yet all would be as painfullyconscious of him as if he were a corpse in the room, which by somemonstrous necessity could not be buried. While they might shed naturaltears, he was not sure but that deep in their hearts would come a senseof relief should they hear that he was dead, and so could not deepen thestain he had already given to a name once so respectable. He knew thathis indifference and overbearing manner toward his sisters had alienatedthem from him; while in respect to Mrs. Haldane, her aristocraticconventionality, the most decided trait of her character, would alwaysbe in sharp contest with her strong mother-love, and thus he would everbe only a source of disquiet and wretchedness whether present or absent. In view of the discordant elements and relations now existing, there wasnot a place on earth less attractive than his own home. 

It may at first seem a contradiction to say that the thought of Mrs. Arnot gave him a drearier sense of isolation than the memory of allelse. In her goodness she seemed to belong to a totally different worldfrom himself and people in general. He had nothing in common with her. She seemed to come to him almost literally as an angel of mercy, andfrom an infinite distance, and her visits must, of necessity, be likethose of the angels, few and far between, and, in view of his character, must soon cease. He shrank from her purity and nobility even while drawntoward her by her sympathy. He instinctively felt that in all her deepcommiseration of him she could not for a moment tolerate the debasingevil of his nature, and that this evil, retained, would speedily andinevitably separate them forever. Could he be rid of it? He did notknow. He could not then see how. In his weakness and despondency itseemed inwrought with every fibre of his being, and an essential part ofhimself. As for Laura, she was like a bright star that had set, and wasno longer above his dim horizon. 

As he felt himself thus losing his hold on the companionship andremembrance of others, he was thrown back upon himself, and this led himto feel with a sort of dreary foreboding that it would be a horriblething thus to be chained forever to a self toward which the higherfaculties of his soul must ever cherish only hatred and loathing. Evennow he hated himself--nay, more, he was enraged with himself--in view ofthe folly of which he had been capable. What could be worse than theendless companionship of the base nature which had already dragged himdown so low?

As the hours passed, the weight upon his heart grew heavier, and thechill of dread more unendurable. He saw his character as another mightsee it. He saw a nature to which, from infancy, a wrong bias had beengiven, made selfish by indulgence, imperious and strong only in carryingout impulses and in gratifying base passions, but weak as water inresisting evil and thwarting its vile inclinations. The pride and hopethat had sustained him in what he regarded as the great effort of hislife were gone, and he felt neither strength nor courage to attemptanything further. He saw himself helpless and prostrate before his fate, and yet that fate was so terrible that he shrank from it with increasingdread. 

What could he do? Was it possible to do anything? Had he not lost hisfooting? If a man is caught in the rapids, up to a certain point hisstruggle against the tide is full of hope, but beyond that point noeffort can avail. Had he not been swept so far down toward the finalplunge that grim despair were better than frantic but vain effort?

And yet he felt that he could not give himself up to the absolutemastery of evil without one more struggle. Was there any chance? Was hecapable of making the needful effort?

Thus hopes and fears, bitter memories and passionate regrets, swept toand fro through his soul like stormy gusts. A painful experience andMrs. Arnot's words were teaching the giddy, thoughtless young fellowwhat life meant, and were forcing upon his attention the inevitablequestions connected with it which must be solved sooner or later, andwhich usually grow more difficult as the consideration of them isdelayed, and they become complicated. As his cell grew dusky with itsearly twilight, as he thought of another long night whose darkness wouldbe light compared with the shadow brooding on his prospects, his courageand endurance gave way. 

With something of the feeling of a terror-stricken child he called theunder-sheriff, and asked for writing materials. With a pencil he wrotehastily:

"MRS. ARNOT--I entreat you to visit me once more to-day. Your words haveleft me in torture. I cannot face the consequences and yet see no way ofescape. It would be very cruel to leave me to my despairing thoughts foranother night, and you are not cruel. "

In despatching the missive he said, "I can promise that if this note isdelivered to Mrs. Arnot at once, the bearer shall be well paid. "

Moments seemed hours while he waited for an answer. Suppose the letterwas not delivered--suppose Mrs. Arnot was absent. A hundred miserableconjectures flitted through his mind; but his confidence in his friendwas such that even his morbid fear did not suggest that she would notcome. 

The lady was at the dinner-table when the note was handed to her, andafter reading it she rose hastily and excused herself. 

"Where are you going?" asked her husband sharply. 

"A person in trouble has sent for me. "

"Well, unless the _person_ is in the midst of a surgical operation, he, she, or it, whichever this person may be, can wait till you finishyour dinner. "

"I am going to visit Egbert Haldane, " said Mrs. Arnot quietly. "Jane, please tell Michael to come round with the carriage immediately. "

"You visit the city prison at this hour! Now I protest. The young rakeprobably has the delirium tremens. Send our physician rather, if someone must go, though leaving him to the jailer and a strait-jacket wouldbe better still. "

"Please excuse me, " answered his wife, with her hand on the door-knob;"you forget my relations to Mrs. Haldane; her son has sent for me. "

"'Her relations to Mrs. Haldane!' As if she were not always at the beckand call of every beggar and criminal in town! I do wish I had a wifewho was too much of a lady to have anything to do with this low scum. "

A few moments later Mr. Arnot broke out anew with muttered complaint andinvective, as he heard the carriage driven rapidly away. 

As by the flickering light of a dip candle Mrs. Arnot saw Haldane'spale, haggard face, she did not regret that she had come at once, for aglance gave to her the evidence of a human soul in its extremity. 

In facing these deep questions of life, some regard themselves as braveor philosophical. Perhaps it were nearer the truth to say they arestolid, and are staring at that which they do not understand and cannotyet realize. Where in history do we read--who from a ripe experience cangive--an instance of a happy life developing under the deepening shadowof evil? Suppose one has seen high types of character and happiness, andwas capable of appreciating them, but finds that he has cherished asottish, beastly nature so long that it has become his master, promisingto hold him in thraldom ever afterward;--can there be a more wretchedform of captivity? The ogre of a debased nature drags the soul away fromlight and happiness--from all who are good and pure--to the hideoussolitude of self and memory. 

There are those who will be incredulous and even resentful in view ofthis picture, but it will not be the first time that facts have beenquarrelled with. It is _true_ that many are writhing and groaningin this cruel bondage, mastered and held captive by some debasingappetite or passion, perhaps by many. Sometimes, with a bitter, despairing sorrow, of which superficial observers of life can have noidea, they speak of these horrid chains; sometimes they tug at themalmost frantically. A few escape, but more are dragged down andaway--away from honorable companionships and friendships; away fromplaces of trust, from walks of usefulness and safety; away from parents, from wife and children, until the awful isolation is complete, and theguilty soul finds itself alone with the sin that mastered it, consciousthat God only will ever see and remember. Human friends willforget--they must forget in order to obtain relief from an object thathas become morally too unsightly to be looked upon; and in mercy theyare so created that they can forget, though it may be long before it ispossible. 

There are people who scout this awful mystery of evil. They havebeautiful little theories of their own, which they have spun in theseclusion of their studies. They keep carefully within their shady, flower-bordered walks, and ignore the existence of the world's dustyhighways, in which so many are fainting and being trampled upon. Whatthey do not see does not exist. What they do not believe is not true. They cannot condemn too severely the lack of artistic taste and liberalculture which leads any one to regard sin as other than a theologian'sphrase or a piquant element in human life, which otherwise would berather dull and flavorless. 

Mrs. Arnot was not a theorist, nor was she the elegant lady, whollygiven to the aesthetic culture that her husband desired; she was alarge-hearted woman, and she understood human life and its emergenciessufficiently well to tremble with apprehension when she saw the face ofEgbert Haldane, for she felt that a deathless soul in its crisis--itsdeepest spiritual need--was looking to her solely for help. 

CHAPTER XXX

IDEAL KNIGHTHOOD

Mrs. Arnot again came directly to the youth and put her hand on hisshoulder with motherly freedom and kindliness. Beyond even the word ofsympathy is the touch of sympathy, and it often conveys to the faintingheart a subtle power to hope and trust again which the materialistcannot explain. The Divine Physician often touched those whom he healed. He laid his hand fearlessly on the leper from whom all shrank withinexpressible dread. The moral leper who trembled under Mrs. Arnot'shand felt that he was not utterly lost and beyond the pale of hope, ifone so good and pure could still touch him; and there came a hope, likea ray struggling through thick darkness, that the hand that caressedmight rescue him. 

"Egbert, " said the lady gravely, "tell me what I can do for you. "

"I cannot face the consequences, " he replied in a low, shuddering tone. 

"And do you only dread the consequences?" Mrs. Arnot asked sadly. "Doyou not think of the evil which is the cause of your trouble?"

"I can scarcely separate the sin from the suffering. My mind isconfused, and I am overwhelmed with fear and loneliness. All who aregood and all that is good seemed to be slipping from me, and I shouldsoon be left only to my miserable self. O, Mrs. Arnot, no doubt I seemto you like a weak, guilty coward. I seem so to myself. If it weredanger or difficulty I had to face I would not fear; but this slow, inevitable, increasing pressure of a horrible fate, this seeing clearlythat evil cuts me off from hope and all happiness, and yet to feel thatI cannot escape from it--that I am too weak to break my chains--it ismore than I can endure. I fear that I should have gone mad if you hadnot come. Do you think there is any chance for me? I feel as if I hadlost my manhood. "

Mrs. Arnot took the chair which the sheriff had brought on her entrance, and said quietly, "Perhaps you have, Egbert; many a man has lost whatyou mean by that term. "

"You speak of it with a composure that I can scarcely understand, " saidHaldane, with a quick glance of inquiry. "It seems to me an irreparableloss. "

"It does not seem so great a loss to me, " replied Mrs. Arnot gently. "Asyour physician you must let me speak plainly again. It seems to me thatwhat you term your manhood was composed largely of pride, conceit, ignorance of yourself, and inexperience of the world. You were liable tolose it at any time, just as you did, partly through your own folly andpartly through the wrong of others. You know, Egbert, that I have alwaysbeen interested in young men, and what many of them regard as theirmanhood is not of much value to themselves or any one else. "

"Is it nothing to be so weak, disheartened, and debased that you lieprostrate in the mire of your own evil nature, as it were, and with nopower to rise?" he asked bitterly. 

"That is sad indeed. "

"Well, that's just my condition--or I fear it is, though your coming hasbrought a gleam of hope. Mrs. Arnot, " he continued passionately, "Idon't know how to be different; I don't feel capable of making anypersistent and successful effort. I feel that I have lost all moralforce and courage. The odds are too great. I can't get up again. "

"Perhaps you cannot, Egbert, " said Mrs. Arnot very gravely; "it wouldseem that some never do--"

He buried his face in his hands and groaned. 

"You have, indeed, a difficult problem to solve, and, looking at it fromyour point of view, I do not wonder that it seems impossible. "

"Cannot you, then, give me any hope?"

"No, Egbert; _I_ cannot. It is not in my power to make you a goodman. You know that I would do so if I could. "

"Would to God I had never lived, then, " he exclaimed, desperately. 

"Can you offer God no better prayer than that? Will you try to be calm, and listen patiently to me for a few moments? When I said _I_ couldnot give you hope--_I_ could not make you a good man--I expressedone of my strongest convictions. But I have not said, Egbert, that thereis no hope, no chance, for you. On the contrary, there is abundanthope--yes, absolute certainty--of your achieving a noble character, ifyou will set about it in the right way. But as one of the first andindispensable conditions of success, I wish you to realize that the taskis too great for you alone; too great with my help; too great if theworld that seems so hostile should unite to help you; and yet neither Inor all the world could prevent your success if you went to the rightand true source of help. Why have you forgotten God in your emergency?Why are you looking solely to yourself and to another weakfellow-creature like yourself?"

"You are in no respect like me, Mrs. Arnot, and it seems profanationeven to suggest the thought. "

"I have the same nature. I struggled vainly and almost hopelesslyagainst my peculiar weaknesses and temptations and sorrows until I heardGod saying, 'Come, my child, let us work together. It is my will youshould do all you can yourself, and what you cannot do I will do foryou. ' Since that time I have often had to struggle hard, but nevervainly. There have been seasons when my burdens grew so heavy that I wasready to faint; but after appealing to my heavenly Father, as a littlechild might cry for help, the crushing weight would pass away, and Ibecame able to go on my way relieved and hopeful. "

"I cannot understand it, " said the young man, looking at her in deepperplexity. 

"That does not prevent its being true. The most skilful physician cannotexplain why certain beneficial effects follow the use of certainremedies; but when these effects become an established fact ofexperience it were sensible to employ the remedy as soon as possible. One might suffer a great deal, and, perhaps, perish, while askingquestions and waiting for answers. To my mind the explanation is verysimple. God is our Creator, and calls himself our Father. It would benatural on general principles that he should take a deep interest in us;but he assures us of the profoundest love, employing our tenderestearthly ties to explain how he feels toward us. What is more naturalthan for a father to help a child? What is more certain, also, than thata wise father would teach a child to do all within his ability to helphimself, and so develop the powers with which he is endowed? Onlyinfants are supposed to be perfectly helpless. "

"It would seem that what you say ought to be true, and yet I have alwayshalf-feared God--that is, when I thought about him at all. I have beentaught that he was to be served; that he was a jealous God; that he wasangry with the sinful, and that the prayers of the wicked were anabomination. I am sure the Bible says the latter is true, or somethinglike it. "

"It is true. If you set your heart on some evil course, or aredeliberating some dishonesty or meanness, be careful how you make longor short prayers to God while wilfully persisting in your sin. When aman is robbing and cheating, though in the most legal manner--when he isgratifying lust, hate, or appetite, and _intends_ to _continue_ doingso--the less praying he does the better. An avowed infidel is moreacceptable. But the sweetest music that reaches heaven is the honest cryfor help to forsake sin; and the more sinful the heart that thus criesout for deliverance the more welcome the appeal. Let me illustrate whatI mean by your own case. If you should go out from this prison in thesame spirit that you did once before, seeking to gain position and favoronly for the purpose of gratifying your own pride--only that self mightbe advantaged, without any generous and disinterested regard for others, without any recognition of the sacred duties you owe to God, and contentwith a selfish, narrow, impure soul--if, with such a disposition, youshould commence asking for God's help as a means to these petty, miserable ends, your prayers would, and with good reason, be anabomination to him. But if you had sunk to far lower depths than thosein which you now find yourself, and should cry out for purity, for thesonship of a regenerated character, your voice would not only reach yourdivine Father's ear, but his heart, which would yearn toward you with atender commiseration that I could not feel were you my only son. "

The sincerity and earnestness of Mrs. Arnot's words were attested by herfast-gathering tears. 

"This is all new to me. But if God is so kindly disposed toward us--soready to help--why does he not reveal himself in this light moreclearly? why are we so slow and long in finding him out? Until you camehe seemed against me. "

"We will not discuss this matter in general. Take your own experienceagain. Perhaps it has been your fault, not God's, that you misunderstoodhim. He tries to show how he feels toward us in many ways, chiefly byhis written Word, by what he leads his people to do for us, and by hisgreat mind acting directly on ours. Has not the Bible been within yourreach? Have none of God's servants tried to advise and help you? I thinkyou must have seen some such effort on my part when you were an inmateof my home. I am here this evening as God's messenger to you. All thehope I have of you is inspired by his disposition and power to help you. You may continue to stand aloof from him, declining his aid, just as youavoided your mother, and myself all these weeks when we were longing tohelp you; but if you sink, yours will be the fate of one who refuses tograsp the strong hand that is and ever has been seeking yours. "

"Mrs. Arnot, " said Haldane thoughtfully, "if all you say is true thereis hope for me--there is hope for every one. "

Mrs. Arnot was silent for a moment, and then said, with seemingabruptness:

"You have read of the ancient knights and their deeds, have you not?"

"Yes, " was the wondering reply, "but the subject seems very remote. "

"You are in a position to realize my very ideal of knightly endeavor. "

"I, Mrs. Arnot! What can you mean?"

"Whether I am right or wrong I can soon explain what I mean. The ancientknight set his lance in rest against what seemed to him the wrongs andevils of the world. In theory he was to be without fear and withoutreproach--as pure as the white cross upon his mantle. But in fact theaverage knight was very human. His white cross was soon soiled byforeign travel, but too often not before his soul was stained withquestionable deeds. It was a life of adventure and excitement, andabundantly gratifying to pride and ambition. While it could be idealizedinto a noble calling, it too often ended in a lawless, capricious careerof self-indulgence. The cross on the mantle symbolized the heavy blowsand sorrows inflicted on those who had the misfortune to differ inopinion, faith, or race with the knight, the steel of whose armorseemingly got into his heart, rather than any personal self-denial. Without any moral change on his own part, or being any way better thanthey, he could fight the infidel or those whose views differed from hiswith great zest. 

"But the man who will engage successfully in a crusade against the evilof his own heart must have the spirit of a true knight, for he attemptsthe most difficult and heroic task within the limits of human endeavor. It is comparatively easy to run a tilt against a fellow-mortal, or anexternal evil; but to set our lance in rest against a cherished sin, ahabit that has become our second nature, and remorselessly ride itdown--to grapple with a secret fault in the solitude of our own soul, with no applauding hands to spur us on, and fight and wrestle for wearymonths--years perhaps--this does require heroism of the highest order, and the man who can do it is my ideal knight. 

"You inveigh against the world, Egbert, as if it were a harsh andremorseless foe, bent on crushing you; but you have far more dangerousenemies lurking in your own heart. If you could thoroughly subdue thesewith God's aid, you would at the same time overcome the world, or findyourself so independent of it as scarcely to care whether or no it gaveyou its favor. When you left this prison before, you sought in the wrongway to win the position you had lost. You were very proud of your formerstanding; but you had very little occasion to be, for you had inheritedit. The deeds of others, not your own, had won it for you. If you hadrealized it, it gave you a great vantage, but that was all. If you hadbeen content to have remained a conceited, commonplace man, versed onlyin the fashionable jargon and follies of the hour, and basing yourclaims on the wealth which you had shown neither the ability norindustry to win, you would never have had my respect. 

"Well, to tell the truth, such shadows of men are respected by no one, not even themselves, even though they may commit no deed which societycondemns, But if in this prison cell you set your face like a flintagainst the weaknesses and grave faults of your nature which havebrought you here, and which would have made you anything but anadmirable man had you retained your old position--if, with God as yourfast ally, you wage unrelenting and successful war against all that isunworthy of a Christian manhood--I will not only respect, I will honoryou. You will be one of my ideal knights. "

As Mrs. Arnot spoke, Haldane's eyes kindled, and his drooping manner wasexchanged for an aspect that indicated reviving hope and courage. 

"I have lost faith in myself, " he said slowly; "and as yet I have nofaith in God; but after what you have said I do not fear him as I did. Ihave faith in you, however, Mrs. Arnot, and I would rather gain yourrespect than that of all the world. You know me now better than any oneelse. Do you truly believe that I could succeed in such a struggle?"

"Without faith in God you cannot. Even the ancient knight, whose successdepended so much on the skill and strength of his arm, and the temper ofhis weapons and armor, was supposed to spend hours in prayer beforeattempting any great thing. But with God's help daily sought andobtained, you cannot fail. You can achieve that which the world cannottake from you--which will be a priceless possession after the world hasforgotten you and you it--a noble character. "

Haldane was silent several moments, then, drawing a long breath, hesaid, slowly and humbly:

"How I am to do this I do not yet understand; but if you will guide me, I will attempt it. "

"This book will guide you, Egbert, " said Mrs. Arnot, placing her Biblein his hands. "God himself will guide you if you ask sincerely. Good-night. " And she gave him such a warm and friendly grasp of the handas to prove that evil had not yet wholly isolated him from the pure andgood. 

CHAPTER XXXI

THE LOW STARTING-POINT

On the afternoon of the following day Mrs. Arnot again visited Haldane, bringing him several letters from his mother which had been sent in hercare; and she urged that the son should write at once in a way thatwould reassure the mother's heart. 

In his better mood the young man's thoughts recurred to his mother witha remorseful tenderness, and he eagerly sought out the envelope bearingthe latest date, and tore it open. As he read, the pallor and painexpressed in his face became so great that Mrs. Arnot was much troubled, fearing that the letter contained evil tidings. 

Without a word he handed it to her, and also two inclosed paragraphs cutfrom newspapers. 

"Do you think your mother would wish me to see it?" asked Mrs. Arnot, hesitatingly. 

"I wish you to see it, and it contains no injunctions of secrecy. Indeed, she has been taking some very open and decided steps which arehere indicated. "

Mrs. Arnot read:

"MY UNNATURAL SON--Though you will not write me a line, you still makeit certain that I shall hear from you, as the inclosed clippings fromHillaton papers may prove to you. You have forfeited all claim on bothyour sisters and myself. Our lawyer has been here to-day, and has shownme, what is only too evident, that money would be a curse to you--thatyou would squander it and disgrace yourself still more, if such a thingwere possible. As the property is wholly in my hands, I shall arrange itin such a way that you shall never have a chance to waste it. If youwill comply with the following conditions I will supply all that isessential to one of your nature and tastes. I stipulate that you leaveHillaton, and go to some quiet place where our name is not known, andthat you there live so quietly that I shall hear of no more disgracefulacts like those herein described. I have given up the hope of hearinganything good. If you will do this I will pay your board and grant you areasonable allowance. If you will not do this, you end all communicationbetween us, and we must be as strangers until you can show an entirelydifferent spirit. Yours in bitter shame and sorrow, "EMILY HALDANE. "

The clippings were Mr. Shrumpf's version of his own swindle, and atolerably correct account of the events which led to the presentimprisonment. 

"Will you accept your mother's offer?" Mrs. Arnot asked, anxiously, forshe was much troubled as to what might be the effect of the unfortunateletter at this juncture. 

"No!" he replied with sharp emphasis. 

"Egbert, remember you have given your mother the gravest provocation. "

"I also remember that she did her best to make me the fool I have been, and she might have a little more patience now. The truth is thatmother's God was respectability, and she will never forgive me fordestroying her idol. "

"Read the other letters; there may be that in them which will be morereassuring. "

"No, I thank you, " he replied, bitterly; "I have had all that I canstand for one day. She believes the infernal lie which that scoundrelShrumpf tells, and gives me no hearing;" and he related to Mrs. Arnotthe true version of the affair. 

She had the tact to see that his present perturbed condition was not heropportunity, and she soon after left him in a mood that promised littleof good for the future. 

But in the long, quiet hours that followed her departure his thoughtswere busy. However much he might think that others were the cause of hisunhappy plight, he had seen that he was far more to blame. It had beenmade still more clear that, even if he could shift this blame somewhat, he could not the consequences. Mrs. Arnot's words had given him aglimpse of light, and had revealed a path, which, though still vague anduncertain, promised to lead out of the present labyrinth of evil. Duringthe morning hours he had dared to hope, and even to pray, that he mightfind a way of escape from his miserable self and the wretched conditionto which it had brought him. 

For a long time he turned the leaves of Mrs. Arnot's Bible, and here andthere a text would flash out like a light upon the clouded future, butas a general thing the words had little meaning. 

To his ardent and somewhat imaginative nature she had presented thestruggle toward a better life in the most attractive light. He was notasked to do something which was vague and mystical; he was not exhortedto emotions and beliefs of which he was then incapable, nor to forms andceremonies that were meaningless to him, nor to professions equallyhollow. On the contrary, the evils, the defects of his own nature, weregiven an objective form, and he could almost see himself, like a knight, with lance in rest, preparing to run a tilt against the personal faultswhich had done him such injury. The deeper philosophy, that his heartwas the rank soil from which sprang these faults, like Cadmus' armedmen, would come with fuller experience. 

But in a measure he had understood and had been inspired by Mrs. Arnot'sthought. Although from a weak mother's indulgence and his own, fromwasted years and bad companionships, his life was wellnigh spoiled, hestill had sufficient mind to see that to fight down the clamorouspassions of his heart into subjection would be a grand and heroic thing. If from the yielding mire of his present self a noble and granite-likecharacter could be built up, so strongly and on such a sure foundationthat it would stand the shocks of time and eternity, it were worth everyeffort of which human nature is capable. Until Mrs. Arnot had spoken herwise and kind, yet honest words, he had felt himself unable to standerect, much less to enter on a struggle which would tax the strongest. 

But suppose God would deign to help, suppose it was the divine purposeand practice to supplement the feeble efforts of those who, likehimself, sought to ally their weakness to his strength, might not theCreator and the creature, the Father and the child, unitedly achievewhat it were hopeless to attempt unaided?

Thoughts like these more or less distinctly had been thronging his mindduring the morning, and though the path out of his degradation wasobscure and uncertain, it had seemed the only way of escape. He knewthat Mrs. Arnot would not consciously mock him with delusive hopes, andas she spoke her words seemed to have the ring and echo of truth. Whenthe courage to attempt better things was reviving, it was sad that heshould receive the first disheartening blow from his mother. Not thatshe purposed any such cruel stroke; but when one commences wrong in lifeone is apt to go on making mischief to the end. Poor Mrs. Haldane'skindness and severity had always been ill-timed. 

For some hours, as will be seen, the contents of the mother's letterinspired only resentment and caused discouragement; but calmer thoughtsexplained the letter, and confirmed Mrs. Arnot's words, that he hadgiven the "gravest provocation. "

At the same time the young man instinctively felt that if he attemptedthe knightly effort that Mrs. Arnot had so earnestly urged, his mothercould not help him much, and might be a hindrance. Her views would be soconventional, and she would be so impatient of any methods that were notin accordance with her ideas of respectability, that she might imperileverything should he yield to her guidance. If, therefore, he couldobtain the means of subsistence he resolved to remain in Hillaton, wherehe could occasionally see Mrs. Arnot. She had been able to inspire thehope of a better life, and she could best teach him how such a life waspossible. 

The next day circumstances prevented Mrs. Arnot from visiting theprison, and Haldane employed part of the time in writing to his mother aletter of mingled reproaches and apologies, interspersed with vaguehopes and promises of future amendment, ending, however, with thepositive assurance that he would not leave Hillaton unless compelled todo so by hunger. 

To Mrs. Haldane this letter was only an aggravation of formermisconduct, and a proof of the unnatural and impracticable character ofher son. The fact that it was written from a prison was hideous, tobegin with. That, after all the pains at which she had been to teach himwhat was right, he could suggest that she was in part to blame for hiscourse seemed such black ingratitude that his apologies andacknowledgments of wrong went for nothing. She quite overlooked thehope, expressed here and there, that he might lead a very different lifein the future. His large and self-confident assurances made before hadcome to naught, and she had not the tact to see that he would make thisattempt in a different spirit. 

It was not by any means a knightly or even a manly letter that he wroteto his mother; it was as confused as his own chaotic moral nature; butif Mrs. Haldane had had a little more of Mrs. Arnot's intuition, andless of prejudice, she might have seen scattered through it very hopefulindications. But even were such indications much more plain, her anger, caused by his refusal to leave Hillaton, and the belief that he wouldcontinue to disgrace himself and her, would have blinded her to them. Under the influence of this anger she sat down and wrote at once:

Since you cast off your mother for strangers--since you attempt againwhat you have proved yourself incapable of accomplishing--since youprefer to go out of jail to be a vagrant and a criminal in the streets, instead of accepting my offer to live a respectable and secluded lifewhere your shame is unknown, I wash my hands of you, and shall takepains to let it be understood that I am no longer responsible for you oryour actions. You must look to strangers solely until you can conformyour course to the will of the one you have so greatly wronged. 

Haldane received this letter on the morning of the day which would againgive him freedom. Mrs. Arnot had visited him from time to time, and hadbeen pleased to find him, as a general thing, in a better and morepromising mood. He had been eager to listen to all that she had to say, and he seemed honestly bent on reform. And yet, while hopeful, she wasnot at all sanguine as to his future. He occasionally gave way to fitsof deep despondency, and again was over-confident, while the causes ofthese changes were not very apparent, and seemingly resulted more fromtemperament than anything else. She feared that the bad habits of longstanding, combining with his capricious and impulsive nature, wouldspeedily betray him into his old ways. She was sure this would be thecase unless the strong and steady hand of God sustained him, and she hadtried to make him realize the same truth. This he did in a measure, andwas exceedingly distrustful; and yet he had not been able to do muchmore than hope God would help him--for to anything like trustfulconfidence he was still a stranger. 

The future was very dark and uncertain. What he was to do, how he was tolive, he could not foresee. Even the prison seemed almost a refuge fromthe world, out into which he would be thrown that day, as one might becast from a ship, to sink or swim, as the case might be. 

While eager to receive counsel and advice from Mrs. Arnot, he felt apeculiar reluctance to take any pecuniary assistance, and he fairlydreaded to have her offer it; still, it might be all that would standbetween him and hunger. 

After receiving his mother's harsh reply to his letter, his despondencywas too great even for anger. He was ashamed of his weakness anddiscouragement, and felt that they were unmanly, and yet was powerlessto resist the leaden depression that weighed him down. 

Mrs. Arnot had promised to call just before his release, and when sheentered his cell she at once saw that something was amiss. In reply toher questioning he gave her the letter just received. 

After reading it Mrs. Arnot did not speak for some time, and her facewore a sad, pained look. 

At last she said, "You both misunderstand each other; but, Egbert, youhave no right to cherish resentment. Your mother sincerely believes yourcourse is all wrong, and that it will end worse than before. I think sheis mistaken. And yet perhaps she is right, and it will be easier for youto commence your better and reformed life in the seclusion which shesuggests. I am sorry to say it to you, Egbert, but I have not been ableto find any employment for you such as you would take, or I would bewilling to have you accept. Perhaps Providence points to submission toyour mother's will. "

"If so, then I lose what little faith I have in Providence, " he repliedimpetuously. "It is here, in this city, that I have fallen and disgracedmyself, and it is here I ought to redeem myself, if I ever do. Weeksago, in pride and self-confidence, I made the effort, and failedmiserably, as might have been expected. Instead of being a gifted andbrilliant man, as I supposed, that had been suddenly brought under acloud as much through misfortune as fault, I have discovered myself tobe a weak, commonplace, illiterate fellow, strong only in bad passionsand bad habits. Can I escape these passions and habits by goingelsewhere? You have told me, in a way that excited my hope, of God'spower and willingness to help such as I am. If he will not help me here, he will not anywhere; and if, with his aid, I cannot surmount theobstacles in my way here, what is God's promised help but a phrase whichmeans nothing, and what are we but victims of circumstances?"

"Are you not reaching conclusions rather fast, Egbert? You forget that Iand myriads of others have had proof of God's power and willingness tohelp. If wide and varied experience can settle any fact, this one hasbeen settled. But we should ever remember that we are not to dictate theterms on which he is to help us. "

"I do not mean to do this, " said Haldane eagerly, "but I have aconviction that I ought to remain in Hillaton. To tell you the truth, Mrs. Arnot, I am afraid to go elsewhere, " he added in a low tone, whiletears suffused his eyes. "You are the only friend in the universe that Iam sure cares for me, or that I can trust without misgivings. To me Godis yet but little more than a name, and one that heretofore I haveeither forgotten or feared. You have led me to hope that it might beotherwise some day, but it is not so yet, and I dare not go away alonewhere no one cares for me, for I feel sure that I would give way toutter despondency, and recklessness would follow as a matter of course. "

"O Egbert, " sighed Mrs. Arnot, "how weak you are, and how foolish, intrusting so greatly in a mere fellow-creature. "

"Yes, Mrs. Arnot, 'weak and foolish. ' Those two words now seem to sum upmy whole life and all there is of me. "

"And yet, " she added earnestly, "if you will, you can still achieve astrong, and noble character. O that you had the courage and heroic faithin God to fight out this battle to the end! Should you do so, as I toldyou before, you would be ideal knight. Heaven would ring with yourpraise, however unfriendly the world might be. I cannot conceive of agrander victory than that of a debased nature over itself. If you shouldwin such a victory, Egbert--if, in addition, you were able, by theblessing of God on your efforts, to build up a strong, true character--Iwould honor you above other men, even though you remained a wood-sawyerall your days, " and her dark eyes became lustrous with deep feeling asshe spoke. 

Haldane looked at her fixedly for a moment, and grew very pale. He thenspoke slowly and in a low tone:

"To fail after what you have said and after all your kindness would beterrible. To continue my old vile self, and also remember the prospectyou now hold out--what could be worse? And yet what I shall do, what Ishall be, God only knows. But in sending you to me I feel that he hasgiven me one more chance. "

"Egbert, " she replied eagerly, "God will give you chances as long as youbreathe. Only the devil will tell you to despair. He, _never_. Rememberthis should you grow old in sin. To tell you the truth, however, as Isee you going out into the world so humbled, so self-distrustful, I havefar more hope for you than when you first left this place, fully assuredthat you were, in yourself, sufficient for all your peculiardifficulties. And now, once more, good-by, for a time. I will doeverything I can for you. I have seen Mr. Growther to-day, and heappears very willing that you should return to his house for thepresent. Strange old man! I want to know him better, for I believe hisevil is chiefly on the outside, and will fall off some day, to his greatsurprise. "

CHAPTER XXXII

A SACRED REFRIGERATOR

The glare of the streets was intolerable to Haldane after hisconfinement, and he hastened through them, looking neither to the righthand nor to the left. A growl from Mr. Growther's dog greeted him as heentered, and the old man himself snarled:

"Well, I s'pose you stood me as long as you could, and then went toprison for a while for a change. "

"You are mistaken, Mr. Growther; I went to prison because I deserved togo there, and it's very good of you to let me come back again. "

"No, it ain't good of me, nuther. I want a little peace and comfort, andhow could I have 'em while you was bein' kicked and cuffed around thestreets? Here, I'll get you some dinner. I s'pose they only gave youenough at jail to aggravate your in'ards. "

"No, nothing more, please. Isn't there something I can do? I've satstill long enough. "

Mr. Growther looked at him a moment, and then said:

"Are you sayin' that because you mean it?"

"Yes. "

"Would you mind helpin' me make a little garden? I know I ought to havedone it long ago, but I'm one of those 'crastinating cusses, andrheumatic in the bargain. "

"I'll make your garden on the one condition that you stand by and bossthe job. "

"O, I'm good at bossin', if nothing else. There ain't much use ofplantin' anything, though, for every pesky bug and worm in town willstart for my patch as soon as they hear on't. "

"I suppose they come on the same principle that I do. "

"They hain't so welcome--the cussed little varmints! Some on 'em are soblasted mean that I know I ought to be easier on 'em just out of fellerfeelin'. Them cut-worms now--if they'd only take a plant and satisfytheir nateral appetites on it, it would go a good ways, and the rest o'the plants would have a chance to grow out of harm's way; but the nastylittle things will jest eat 'em off above the ground, as if they was cutin two by a knife, and then go on to anuther. That's what I call a meanway of gettin' a livin'; but there's lots of people like 'em in town, who spile more than they eat. Then there's the squash-bug. If it's hisnater to eat up the vines I s'pose he must do it, but why in thundermust he smell bad enough to knock you over into the bargain? It's allersbeen my private opinion that the devil made these pests, and the Lordhad nothin' to do with 'em. The idea that he should create a rose, andthen a rose-bug to spile it, ain't reconcilable to what little reasonI've got. "

"Well, " replied Haldane with a glimmer of a smile, "I cannot account forrose-bugs and a good many worse things. I notice, however, that in spiteof all these enemies people manage to raise a great deal that's verynice every year. Suppose we try it. "

They were soon at work, and Haldane felt the better for a few hours'exercise in the open air. 

The next morning Mrs. Arnot brought some papers which she said a legalfriend wished copied, and she left with them, inclosed in an envelope, payment in advance. After she had gone Haldane offered the money to Mr. Growther, but the old man only growled:

"Chuck it in a drawer, and the one of us who wants it first can haveit. "

For the next two or three weeks Mrs. Arnot, by the dint of considerableeffort, kept up a supply of MSS. , of which copies were required, and shesupplemented the prices which the parties concerned were willing to pay. Her charitable and helpful habits were well known to her friends, andthey often enabled her thus to aid those to whom she could not givemoney direct. But this uncertain employment would soon fail, and whather protege was then to do she could not foresee. No one would trusthim, and no one cared to have him about his premises. 

But in the meantime the young man was thinking deeply for himself. Hesoon concluded not to make Mr. Growther's humble cottage a hiding-place;and he commenced walking abroad through the city after the work of theday. He assumed no bravado, but went quietly on his way like any otherpasser-by. The majority of those who knew who he was either ignored hisexistence, or else looked curiously after him, but some took pains tomanifest their contempt. He could not have been more lonely and isolatedif he were walking a desert. 

Among the promises he had made Mrs. Arnot was that he would attendchurch, and she naturally asked him to come to her own. 

"As you feel toward my husband, it will probably not be pleasant for youto come to our pew" she had said; "but I hope the time will come whenbygones will be bygones. The sexton, however, will give you a seat, andour minister preaches excellent sermons"

Not long after, true to his word, the young man went a little early, ashe wished to be as unobtrusive as possible. At the same time there wasnothing furtive or cringing in his nature. As he had openly done wrong, he was now resolved to try as openly to do right, and let people ascribewhatever motive they chose. 

But his heart misgave him as he approached the new elegant church on themost fashionable street. He felt that his clothes were not in keepingwith either the place of worship or the worshippers. 

Mr. Arnot's confidential clerk was talking with the sexton as hehesitatingly mounted the granite steps, and he saw that dignifiedfunctionary, who seemed in some way made to order with the church overwhich he presided, eye him askance while he lent an ear to what wasevidently a bit of his history. Walking quietly but firmly up to theofficial, Haldane asked:

"Will you give me a seat, sir?"

The man reddened, frowned, and then said:

"Really, sir, our seats are generally taken Sunday mornings. I think youwill feel more at home at our mission chapel in Guy street. "

"And among the guys, why don't you add?" retorted Haldane, his oldspirit flashing up, and he turned on his heel and stalked back to Mr. Growther's cottage. 

"Short sermon to-day, " said the old man starting out of a doze. 

Haldane told him of his reception. 

The wrinkles in the quaint visage of his host grew deep and complicated, as though he had tasted something very bitter, and he remarkedsententiously:

"If Satan could he'd pay that sexton a whoppin' sum to stand at the doorand keep sinners out. "

"No need of the devil paying him anything; the well-dressed Christianssee to that. As I promised Mrs. Arnot to come, I tried to keep my word, but this flunky's face and manner alone are enough to turn away such asI am. None but the eminently respectable need apply at that gate ofheaven. If it were not for Mrs. Arnot I would believe the whole thing afarce. "

"Is Jesus Christ a farce?" asked the practical Mr. Growther, testily. "What is the use of jumping five hundred miles from the truth becauseyou've happened to run afoul of some of those Pharisees that he cussed?"

Haldane laughed and said, "You have a matter-of-fact way of puttingthings that there is no escaping. It will, probably, do me more good tostay home and read the Bible to you than to be at church. "

The confidential clerk, who had remained gossiping in the vestibule, thought the scene he had witnessed worth mentioning to his employer, whoentered with Mrs. Arnot not very long after, and lingered for a word ortwo. The man of business smiled grimly, and passed on. He usuallyattended church once a day, partly from habit and partly because it wasthe respectable thing to do. He had been known to remark that he neverlost anything by it, for some of his most successful moves suggestedthemselves to his mind during the monotony of the service. 

To annoy his wife, and also to gratify a disposition to sneer at thefaults of Christians, Mr. Arnot, at the dinner, commenced to commendironically the sexton's course. 

"A most judicious man!" he affirmed. "Saint Peter himself at the gatecould not more accurately strain out the saints from the sinners--nay, he is even keener-eyed than Saint Peter, for he can tell first-classfrom second-class saints. Though our church is not full, I nowunderstand why we have a mission chapel. You may trust 'Jeems' to keepout all but the very first-class--those who can exchange silk andbroadcloth for the white robe. But what on earth could have broughtabout such a speedy transition from jail to church on the part ofHaldane?"

"I invited him, " said Mrs. Arnot, in a pained tone; "but I did not thinkit would be to meet with insult"

"Insult! Quite the reverse. I should think that such as he ought to feelit an honor to be permitted a place among the second-class saints. "

Mrs. Arnot's thoughts were very busy that afternoon. She was not bynature an innovator, and, indeed, was inclined to accept the establishedorder of things without very close questioning. Her Christian life hadbeen developed chiefly by circumstances purely personal, and she hadunconsciously found walks of usefulness apart from the organized churchwork. But she was a devout worshipper and a careful listener to thetruth. It had been her custom to ride to the morning service, and, asthey resided some distance from the church, to remain at home in theevening, giving all in her employ a chance to go out. 

Concerning the financial affairs of the church she was kept wellinformed, for she was a liberal contributor, and also to all other goodcauses presented. From earliest years her eye had always been accustomedto the phases presented by a fashionable church, and everything movedforward so quietly and with such sacred decorum that the thought ofanything wrong did not occur to her. 

But the truth that one who was endeavoring to lead a better life hadbeen practically turned from the door of God's house seemed to her amonstrous thing. How much truth was there in her husband's sarcasm? Howfar did her church represent the accessible Jesus of Nazareth, to whomall were welcomed, or how far did it misrepresent him? Now that herattention was called to the fact, she remembered that the congregationwas chiefly made up of the _elite_ of the city, and that she rarelyhad seen any one present who did not clearly present the fullestevidence of respectability. Were those whom the Master most emphaticallycame to seek and save excluded? She determined to find out speedily. 

Summoning her coachman, she told him that she wished to attend churchthat evening. She dressed herself very plainly, and entered the churchclosely veiled. Instead of going to her own pew, she asked the judiciousand discriminating sexton for a seat. After a careless glance he pointedto one of the seats near the door, and turned his back upon her. Arichly dressed lady and gentleman entered soon after, and he was allattention, marshalling them up the aisle into Mrs. Arnot's own pew, since it was known she did not occupy it in the evening. A few decent, plain-looking women, evidently sent thither by the wealthy families inwhose employ they were, came in hesitatingly, and those who did not takeseats near the entrance, as a matter of course, were motioned thitherwithout ceremony. The audience room was but sparsely filled, largefamilies being represented by one or two members or not at all. But Mrs. Arnot saw none of Haldane's class present--none who looked as if theywere in danger, and needed a kind, strong, rescuing hand--none wholooked hungry and athirst for truth because perishing for its lack. Inthat elegant and eminently respectable place, upholstered and decoratedwith faultless taste, there was not a hint of publicans and sinners. Onemight suppose he was in the midst of the millennium, and that theclasses to whom Christ preached had all become so thoroughly convertedthat they did not even need to attend church. There was not a suggestionof the fact that but a few blocks away enough to fill the empty pewswere living worse than heathen lives. 

The choir performed their part melodiously, and a master in music couldhave found no fault with the technical rendering of the musical score. They were paid to sing, and they gave to such of their employers ascared to be present every note as it was written, in its full value. Asnever before, it struck Mrs. Arnot as a performance. The service she hadattended hitherto was partly the creation of her own earnest anddevotional spirit. To-night she was learning to know the service as itreally existed. 

The minister was evidently a conscientious man, for he had prepared hisevening discourse for his thin audience as thoroughly as he had hismorning sermon. Every word was carefully written down, and the thoughtof the text was exhaustively developed. But Mrs. Arnot was too far backto hear well. The poor man seemed weary and discouraged with the aridwastes of empty seats over which he must scatter the seeds of truth tono purpose. He looked dim and ghostly in the far-away pulpit, and inspite of herself his sermon began to have the aspect of a paidperformance, the effect of which would scarcely be more appreciable thanthe sighing of the wind without. The keenest theologian could not detectthe deviation of a hair from the received orthodox views, and themajority present were evidently satisfied that his views would becorrect, for they did not give very close attention. The few plaindomestics near her dozed and nodded through the hour, and so gained somephysical preparation for the toils of the week, but their spiritualnatures were as clearly dormant as their lumpish bodies. 

After the service Mrs. Arnot lingered, to see if any one would speak toher as a stranger and ask her to come again. Such was clearly not thehabit of the congregation. She felt that her black veil, an evidence ofsorrow, was a sort of signal of distress which ought to have lured someone to her side with a kind word or two, but beyond a few curiousglances she was unnoticed. People spoke who were acquainted, who hadbeen introduced to each other. As the worshippers (?) hastened out, gladto escape to regions where living questions and interests existed, thesexton, who had been dozing in a comfortable corner, bustled to the farend of the church, and commenced, with an assistant, turning out thelights on either side so rapidly that it seemed as if a wave of darknesswas following those who had come thither ostensibly seeking light. 

Mrs. Arnot hastened to her carriage, where it stood under the obscuringshadow of a tree, and was driven home sad and indignant--most indignantat herself that she had been so absorbed in her own thoughts and lifethat she had not discovered that the church to build and sustain whichshe had given so liberally was scarcely better than a costlyrefrigerator. 

CHAPTER XXXIII

A DOUBTFUL BATTLE IN PROSPECT

The painful impression made by the evening service that has beendescribed acted as a rude disenchantment, and the beautiful church, towhich Mrs. Arnot had returned every Sabbath morning with increasingpleasure, became as repulsive as it had been sacred and attractive. Toher sincere and earnest spirit anything in the nature of a sham waspeculiarly offensive; and what, she often asked herself, could be moreun-Christlike than this service which had been held in his name?

The revelation so astonished and disheartened her that she was prone tobelieve that there was something exceptional in that miserable Sabbathevening's experience, and she determined to observe further and moreclosely before taking any action. She spoke frankly of her feelings andpurposes to Haldane, and in so doing benefited the young man very much;for he was thus led to draw a sharp line between Christ and theChristlike and that phase of Christianity which is largely leavened withthis world. No excuse was given him to jumble the true and the falsetogether. 

"You will do me a favor if you will quietly enter the church next Sundaymorning and evening, and unobtrusively take one of the seats near thedoor, " she said to him. "I wish to bring this matter to an issue as soonas possible. If you could manage to enter a little in advance of me, Iwould also be glad. I know how Christ received sinners, and I would liketo see how we who profess to be representing him, receive those who cometo his house. "

Haldane did as she requested. In a quiet and perfectly unobtrusivemanner he walked up the granite steps into the vestibule, and hiscoarse, gray suit, although scrupulously clean, was conspicuous in itscontrast with the elegant attire of the other worshippers. He himselfwas conspicuous also; for many knew who he was, and whispered theinformation to others. A "jail-bird" was, indeed, a _rara avis_ inthat congregation, and there was a slight, but perfectly decorous, sensation. However greatly these elegant people might lack the spirit ofHim who was "the friend of publicans and sinners" they would not for theworld do anything that was overtly rude or ill-bred. Only the officialsexton frowned visibly as the youth took a seat near the door. Otherslooked askance or glided past like polished icicles. Haldane's teethalmost chattered with the cold. He felt himself oppressed, and almostpushed out of the house, by the moral atmosphere created by therepellent thoughts of some who apparently felt the place defiled by hispresence. Mrs. Arnot, with her keen intuition, felt this atmospherealso, and detected on the part of one or two of the officers of theChurch an unchristian spirit. Although the sermon was an excellent onethat morning, she did not hear it. 

In the evening a lady draped in a black veil sat by Haldane. The servicewas but a dreary counterpart of the one of the previous Sabbath. The skyhad been overcast and slightly threatening, and still fewer worshippershad ventured out. 

Beyond furtive and curious glances no one noticed them save the sexton, who looked and acted as if Haldane's continued coming was a nuisance, which, in some way, he must manage to abate. 

The young man waited for Mrs. Arnot at her carriage-door, and said as hehanded her in:

"I have kept my word; but please do not ask me to come to this churchagain, or I shall turn infidel. "

"I shall not come myself again, " she replied, "unless there is a decidedchange. "

The next morning she wrote notes to two of the leading officers of thechurch, asking them to call that evening; and her request was so urgentthat they both came at the appointed hour. 

Mrs. Arnot's quiet but clear and distinct statement of the evils ofwhich she had become conscious greatly surprised and annoyed them. They, with their associates, had been given credit for organizing and"running" the most fashionable and prosperous church in town. An elegantstructure had been built and paid for, and such a character given thecongregation that if strangers visited or were about to take up theirabode in the city they were made to feel that the door of this churchled to social position and the most aristocratic circles. Of course, mistakes were made. People sometimes elbowed their way in who wereevidently flaunting weeds among the patrician flowers, and occasionallyplain, honest, but somewhat obtuse souls would come as to a Christianchurch. But people who were "not desirable"--the meaning of this phrasehad become well understood in Hillaton--were generally frozen out by anatmosphere made so chilly, even in August, that they were glad to escapeto other associations less benumbing. Indeed, it was now so generallyrecognized that only those of the best and most assured social positionwere "desirable, " that few others ventured up the granite steps orsought admittance to this region of sacred respectability. And yet allthis had been brought about so gradually, and so entirely within thelaws of good breeding and ecclesiastical usage, and also under the mostorthodox preaching, that no one could lay his finger on anything uponwhich to raise an issue. 

The result was just what these officers had been working for, and it wasvexatious indeed that, after years of successful manipulation, a lady ofMrs. Arnot's position should threaten to make trouble. 

"My dear Mrs. Arnot, " said one of these polished gentlemen, with asuavity that was designed to conciliate, but which was neverthelesstinged with philosophical dogmatism, "there are certain things that willnot mix, and the attempt to mingle them is wasting time on theimpossible. It is in accordance with the laws of nature that each classshould draw together according to their affinities and social status. Our church is now entirely homogeneous, and everything moves forwardwithout any friction. "

"It appears to me sadly machine-like, " the lady remarked. 

"Indeed, madam, " with a trace of offended dignity, "is not the Gospelably preached?"

"Yes, but it is not obeyed. We have been made homogeneous solely onworldly principles, and not on those taught in the Gospels. "

They could not agree, as might have been supposed, and Mrs. Arnot wasthought to be unreasonable and full of impracticable theories. 

"Very well, gentlemen, " said Mrs. Arnot, with some warmth, "if there canbe no change in these respects, no other course is left for me but towithdraw;" and the religious politicians bowed themselves out, muchrelieved, feeling that this was the easiest solution of the question. 

Mrs. Arnot soon after wrote to the Rev. Dr. Barstow, pastor of thechurch, for a letter of dismission. The good man was much surprised bythe contents of this missive. Indeed, it so completely broke a chain ofdeep theological speculation that he deserted his study for the street. Here he met an officer of the church, a man somewhat advanced in years, whom he had come to regard as rather reserved and taciturn indisposition. But in his perplexity he exhibited Mrs. Arnot's letter, andasked an explanation. 

"Well, " said the gentleman, uneasily, "I understand that Mrs. Arnot isdissatisfied, and perhaps she has some reason to be. "

"Upon what grounds?" asked the clergyman hastily. 

"Suppose we call upon her, " was the reply. "I would rather you shouldhear her reasons from herself; and, in fact, I would be glad to hearthem also. "

Half an hour later they sat in Mrs. Arnot's parlor. 

"My dear madam, " said Dr. Barstow, "are you willing to tell us franklywhat has led to the request contained in this letter? I hope that I amin no way to blame. "

"Perhaps we have all been somewhat to blame, " replied Mrs. Arnot in atone so gentle and quiet as to prove that she was under the influence ofno unkindly feeling or resentment; "at least I feel that I have beenmuch to blame for not seeing what is now but too plain. But habit andcustom deaden our perceptions. The aspect of our church was that of goodsociety--nothing to jar upon or offend the most critical taste. Yoursermons were deeply thoughtful and profound, and I both enjoyed and wasbenefited by them. I came and went wrapped up in my own spiritual lifeand absorbed in my own plans and work, when, unexpectedly, an incidentoccurred which revealed to me what I fear is the _animus_ and characterof our church organization. I can best tell you what I mean by relatingmy experience and that of a young man whom I have every reason tobelieve wishes to lead a better life, yes, even a Christian life;"and she graphically portrayed all that had occurred, and the impressionsmade upon her by the atmosphere she had found prevalent, when she placedherself in the attitude of a humble stranger. 

"And now, " she said in conclusion, "do we represent Christ, or are we soleavened by the world that it may be doubted whether he wouldacknowledge us?"

The minister shaded his pained and troubled face with his hand. 

"We represent the world, " said the church officer emphatically; "I havehad a miserable consciousness of whither we were drifting for a longtime, but everything has come about so gradually and so properly, as itwere, that I could find no one thing upon which I could lay my fingerand say, This is wrong and I protest against it. Of course, if I hadheard the sexton make such a remark to any one seeking to enter thehouse of God as was made to the young man you mention I should haveinterfered. And yet the question is one of great difficulty. Can suchdiverse classes meet on common ground?"

"My dear sir, " said Mrs. Arnot earnestly, "I do not think we, as achurch, are called upon to adjust these diverse classes, and to settle, on the Sabbath, nice social distinctions. The Head of the Church said, 'Whosoever will, let him come. ' We, pretending to act in his name and byhis authority, say, 'Whosoever is sufficiently respectable andwell-dressed, let him come. ' I feel that I cannot any longer be a partyto this perversion. 

"If we would preserve our right to be known as a Christian church wemust say to all, to the poor, to the most sinful and debased, as well asto those who are now welcomed, 'Come'; and when they are within ourwalls they should be made to feel that the house does not belong to anaristocratic clique, but rather to him who was the friend of publicansand sinners. Christ adjusted himself to the diverse classes. Are we hissuperiors?"

"But, my dear madam, are there to be no social distinctions?"

"I am not speaking of social distinctions. Birth, culture, and wealthwill always, and very properly, too, make great differences. In invitingpeople to our homes we may largely consult our own tastes andpreferences, and neither good sense nor Christian duty requires thatthere should be intimacy between those unfitted for it by education andcharacter. But a church is not our house, but God's house, and whatright have we to stand in the door and turn away those whom he mostcordially invites? Christ had his beloved disciple, and so we can haveour beloved and congenial friends. But there were none too low or lowlyfor him to help by direct personal effort, by sympathetic contact, andI, for one, dare not ignore his example. "

"Do you not think we can better accomplish this work by our missionchapel?"

"Where is your precedent? Christ washed the feet of fishermen in orderto give us an example of humility, and to teach us that we should bewilling to serve any one in his name. I heartily approve of missionchapels as outposts; but, as in earthly warfare, they should be posts ofhonor, posts for the brave, the sagacious, and the most worthy. If theyare maintained in the character of second-class cars, they are to thatextent unchristian. If those who are gathered there are to be kept theresolely on account of their dress and humble circumstances, I would muchprefer taking my chances of meeting my Master with them than in thechurch which practically excludes them. 

"Christ said, 'I was a stranger, and ye took me in. ' I came to ourchurch as a stranger twice. I was permitted to walk in and walk out, butno one spoke to me, no one invited me to come again. It seems to me thatI would starve rather than enter a private house where I was so coldlytreated. I have no desire for startling innovations. I simply wish tounite myself with a church that is trying to imitate the example of theMaster, and where all, whatever may be their garb or social and moralcharacter, are cordially invited and sincerely welcomed. "

Dr. Barstow now removed his hand from his face. It was pale, but itsexpression was resolute and noble. 

"Mrs. Arnot, permit me to say that you are both right and wrong, " hesaid. "Your views of what a church should be are right; you are wrong inwishing to withdraw before having patiently and prayerfully sought toinculcate a true Christian spirit among those to whom you owe and havepromised Christian fidelity. You know that I have not very long been thepastor of this church, but I have already felt that something was amiss. I have been oppressed and benumbed with a certain coldness and formalityin our church life. At the same time I admit, with contrition, that Ihave given way to my besetting sin. I am naturally a student, and whenonce in my study I forget the outside world. I am prone to become whollyoccupied with the thought of my text, and to forget those for whom I ampreparing my discourse. I, too, often think more of the sermon than ofthe people, forgetting the end in the means, and thus I fear I wasbecoming but a voice, a religious philosophy, among them, instead of aliving and a personal power. You have been awakened to the truth, Mrs. Arnot, and you have awakened me. I do not feel equal to the task which Iclearly foresee before me; I may fail miserably, but I shall no longerdarken counsel with many words. You have given me much food for thought;and while I cannot foretell the end, I think present duty will be madeclear. In times of perplexity it is our part to do what seems right, asking God for guidance, and then leave the consequences to him. Onething seems plain to me, however, that it is your present duty to remainwith us, and give your prayers and the whole weight of your influence onthe side of reform. "

"Dr. Barstow, " said Mrs. Arnot, her face flushing slightly, "you areright; you are right. I have been hasty, and, while condemning others, was acting wrong myself. You have shown the truer Christian spirit. Iwill remain while there is any hope of a change for the better. "

"Well, Mrs. Arnot, " said Mr. Blakeman, the elderly church officer, "Ihave drawn you out partly to get your views and partly to get someclearer views myself. I, too, am with you, doctor, in this struggle; butI warn you both that we shall have a hot time before we thaw the ice outof our church. "

"First pure, and then peaceable, " said the minister slowly and musingly;and then they separated, each feeling somewhat as soldiers who are aboutto engage in a severe and doubtful battle. 

CHAPTER XXXIV

A FOOTHOLD

The skies did not brighten for Haldane, and he remained perplexed anddespondent. When one wishes to reform, everything does not become lovelyin this unfriendly world. The first steps are usually the mostdifficult, and the earliest experience the most disheartening. God neverdesigned that reform should be easy. As it is, people are too ready tolive the life which renders reform necessary. The ranks of the victimsof evil would be doubled did not a wholesome fear of the consequencesrestrain. 

Within a few short weeks the fortunes of the wealthy and self-confidentyouth had altered so greatly that now he questioned whether the worldwould give him bread, except on conditions that were painfullyrepugnant. 

There was his mother's offer, it is true; but had Mrs. Haldaneconsidered the nature of this offer, even she could scarcely have madeit. Suppose he tried to follow out his mother's plan, and went to a citywhere he was unknown, could she expect an active young fellow to go toan obscure boarding-house, and merely eat and sleep? By an inevitablelaw the springing forces of his nature must find employment either ingood or evil. If he sought employment of any kind the question would atonce arise, "Who are you?" and sooner or later would come his history. In his long, troubled reveries he thought of all this, and the prospectof vegetating in dull obscurity at his mother's expense was as pleasantas that of being buried alive. 

Moreover, he could not endure to leave Hillaton in utter defeat. He wasprostrate, and felt the foot of adverse fate upon his neck, but he wouldnot acknowledge himself conquered. If he could regain his feet he wouldrenew the struggle; and he hoped in some way to do so. As yet, however, the future was a wall of darkness. 

Neither did he find any rest for his spiritual feet. For some reason hecould not grasp the idea of a personal God who cared enough for him togive any practical help. In spite of all that Mrs. Arnot could say, hisheart remained as cold and heavy as a stone within his breast. 

But to some extent he could appreciate the picture she had presented. Hesaw one who, through weakness and folly, had fallen into the depths ofdegradation, patiently and bravely fighting his way up to a truemanhood; and he had been made to feel that it was such a noble thing todo that he longed to accomplish it. Whether he could or no he was notsure, for his old confidence was all gone. But he daily grew more benton making an honest trial, and in this effort a certain nativepersistency and unwillingness to yield would be of much help to him. 

He was now willing, also, to receive any aid which self-respectpermitted him to accept, and was grateful for the copying obtained forhim by Mrs. Arnot. But she frankly told him that it would not last long. The question what he should do next pressed heavily upon him. 

As he was reading the paper to Mr. Growther one evening, his eye caughtan advertisement which stated that more hands were needed at a certainfactory in the suburbs. He felt sure that if he presented himself in themorning with the others he would be refused, and he formed the boldpurpose of going at once to the manufacturer. Having found the statelyresidence, he said to the servant who answered his summons:

"Will you say to Mr. Ivison that a person wishes to see him?"

The maid eyed him critically, and concluded, from his garb, to leave himstanding in the hall. 

Mr. Ivison left his guests in the parlor and came out, annoyed at theinterruption. 

"Well, what do you wish, sir?" he said, in a tone that was far frombeing encouraging, at the same time gaining an unfavorable impressionfrom Haldane's dress. 

"In the evening paper you advertised for more hands in your factory. Iwish employment. "

"Are you drunk, or crazy, that you thus apply at my residence?" was theharsh reply. 

"Neither, sir; I--"

"You are very presuming, then. "

"You would not employ me if I came in the morning. "

"What do you mean? Who are you?"

"I am at least human. Can you give one or two moments to theconsideration of my case?"

"One might afford that much, " said the gentleman with a half-apologeticlaugh; for the pale face and peculiar bearing of the stranger werebeginning to interest him. 

"I do not ask more of your time, and will come directly to the point. Myname is Haldane, and, as far as I am concerned, you know nothing goodconcerning me. "

"You are correct, " said Mr. Ivison coldly. "I shall not need yourservices. "

"Mr. Ivison, " said Haldane in a tone that made the gentleman pause, "ought I to be a thief and a vagabond?"

"Certainly not. "

"Then why do you, and all who, like you, have honest work to give, leaveme no other alternative? I have acted wrongly and foolishly, but I wishto do better. I do not ask a place of trust, only work with others, under the eyes of others, where I could not rob you of a cent's worth ifI wished. In the hurry and routine of your office you would not listento me, so I come to-night and make this appeal. If you refuse it, and Igo to the devil, you will have a hand in the result. "

The prompt business-man, whose mind had learned to work with therapidity of his machinery, looked at the troubled, half-desperate face amoment, and then said emphatically:

"By Jove, you are right! I'll give you work. Come to-morrow. Good-night, and good luck to your good intentions. But remember, no nonsense. "

Here at last was a chance; here at last was regular employment. It wasone step forward. Would he be able to hold it? This seemed doubtful onthe morrow after he had realized the nature of his surroundings. He wasset to work in a large room full of men, boys, and slatternly-dressedgirls. He was both scolded and laughed at for the inevitable awkwardnessof a new beginner, and soon his name and history began to be whisperedabout. During the noon recess a rude fellow flung the epithet of"jail-bird" at him, and, of course, it stuck like a burr. Never in allhis life had he made such an effort at self-control as that which kepthis hands off this burly tormentor. 

He both puzzled and annoyed his companions. They knew that he did notbelong to their class, and his bearing and manner made them unpleasantlyconscious of his superiority; and yet all believed themselves so muchmore respectable than he, that they felt it was a wrong to them that heshould be there at all. Thus he was predestined to dislike andill-treatment. But that he could act as if he were deaf and blind to allthat they could do or say was more than they could understand. With knitbrows and firmly-closed lips he bent his whole mind to the mastery ofthe mechanical duties required of him, and when they were over he strodestraight to his humble lodging-place. 

Mr. Growther watched him curiously as he reacted into lassitude anddespondency after the strain and tension of the day. 

"It's harder to stand than 'tis to git along with me, isn't it?"

"Yes, much harder. "

"O thunder! better give it up, then, and try something else. "

"No, it's my only chance. "

"There's plenty other things to do. "

"Not for me. These vulgar wretches I am working with think it an outragethat a 'jail-bird, ' as they call me, contaminates the foul air that theybreathe. I may be driven out by them; but, " setting his teeth, "I won'tgive up this foothold of my own accord. "

"You might have been President if you had shown such grit before you gotdown. "

"That's not pleasant to think of now. "

"I might 'a known that; but it's my mean way of comfortin' people. A-a-h. "

Haldane's new venture out into the world could scarcely have had a morepainful and prosaic beginning; but, as he said, he had gained a"foothold. "

There was one other encouraging fact, of which he did not know. Mr. Ivison sent for the foreman of the room in which Haldane had been set atwork, and said:

"Give the young fellow a fair chance, and report to me from time to timehow he behaves; but say nothing of this to him. If he gets at his oldtricks, discharge him at once; but if he shows the right spirit, I wishto know it. "

CHAPTER XXXV

"THAT SERMON WAS A BOMBSHELL"

The following Sabbath morning smiled so brightly that one might betempted to believe that there was no sin and misery in the world, andthat such a church as Mrs. Arnot condemned was an eminently properorganization. As the congregation left their elegant homes, and inelegant toilets wended their way to their elegant church, they sawnothing in the blue sky and sunshine to remind them of the heavy shadowsbrooding over the earth. What more was needed than that they should givean hour to their aesthetic worship, as they had done in the past whenthe weather permitted, and then return to dinner and a nap and all theordinary routine of life? There were no "beasts at Ephesus" to fightnow. The times had changed, and to live in this age like an ancientChristian would be like going to Boston on foot when one might take apalace car. Hundreds of fully grown, perfectly sane people filed intothe church, who complacently felt that in attending service once ortwice a week, if so inclined, they were very good Christians. And yet, strange to say, there was a conspicuous cross on the spire, and they hadnamed their church "St. Paul's. "

St. Paul! Had they read his life? If so, how came they to satirizethemselves so severely? A dwarf is the more to be pitied if named aftera giant. 

It was very queer that this church should name itself after thetent-maker, who became all things to all men, and who said, "I mademyself servant unto all that I might gain the more. "

It was very unfortunate for them to have chosen this saint, and yet thename, Saint Paul, had a very aristocratic sound in Hillaton, and thusfar had seemed peculiarly fitted to the costly edifice on which it wascarved. 

And never had the church seemed more stately than on this brilliantSabbath morning, never had its elegance and that of the worshippersseemed more in harmony. 

But the stony repose and calm of their Gothic temple was not reflectedin the faces of the people. There was a general air of perturbation andexpectancy. The peculiar and complacent expression of those who areconscious of being especially well dressed and respectable wasconspicuously absent. Annoyed, vexed, anxious faces passed into thevestibule. Knots of twos, threes, and half-dozens lingered and talkedeagerly, with emphatic gestures and much shaking of heads. Many whodisliked rough weather from any cause avoided their fellow-members, andglided hastily in, looking worried and uncomfortable. Between themanaging officers, who had felicitated themselves on having secured acongregation containing the _creme de la creme_ of the city, on onehand, and the disquieted Mr. Blakeman, who found the church growinguncomfortably cold, on the other, Mrs. Arnot's words and acts and theminister's implied pledge to bring the matter squarely to an issue, hadbecome generally known, and a foreboding as of some great catastropheoppressed the people. If the truth were known, there were very generalmisgivings; and, now that the people had been led to think, there weresome uncomfortable aspects to the question. Even that august dignitarythe sexton was in a painful dilemma as to whether it would be best toassume an air of offended dignity, or veer with these eddying andvarying currents until sure from what quarter the wind would finallyblow. He had learned that it was Mrs. Arnot whom he had twice carelesslymotioned with his thumb into a back seat, and he could not helpremarking to several of the more conservative members, that "it was veryunjust and also unkind in Mrs. Arnot to palm herself off on him as anordinary pusson, when for a long time it had been the plainly understoodpolicy of the church not to encourage ordinary pussons. "

But the rumor that something unusual was about to take place at St. Paul's brought thither on this particular Sabbath all kinds anddescriptions of people; and the dignified functionary whose duty it wasto seat them grew so hot and flustered with his unwonted tasks, and madesuch strange blunders, that both he and others felt that they were onthe verge of chaos. But the most extraordinary appearing personage wasno other than Mr. Jeremiah Growther; and, as with his gnarled cane hehobbled along at Haldane's side, he looked for all the world as if somegrotesque and antique carving had come to life and was out for anairing. Not only the sexton, but many others, looked askance at thetall, broad-shouldered youth of such evil fame, and his weird-appearingcompanion, as they walked quite far up the aisle before they could finda seat. 

Many rubbed their eyes to be sure it was not a dream. What had comeover the decorous and elegant St. Paul's? When before had its dim, religious light revealed such scenes? Whence this irruption of strange, uncouth creatures--a jail-bird in a laborer's garb, and the profane oldhermit, whom the boys had nicknamed "Jerry Growler, " and who had notbeen seen in church for years. 

Mrs. Arnot, followed by many eyes, passed quietly up to her pew, andbowed her head in prayer. 

Prayer! Ah! in their perturbation some had forgotten that this was theplace of prayer, and hastily bowed their heads also. 

Mr. Arnot had been engaged in his business to the very steps, and muchtoo absorbed during the week to hear or heed any rumors; but as hewalked up the aisle he stared around in evident surprise, and gaveseveral furtive glances over his shoulder after being seated. As hiswife raised her head, he leaned toward her and whispered:

"What's the matter with Jeems? for, if I mistake not, there are a goodmany second-class saints here to-day. " But not a muscle changed in Mrs. Arnot's pale face. Indeed, she scarcely heard him. Her soul was and hadbeen for several days in the upper sanctuary, in the presence of God, pleading with him that he would return to this earthly temple which thespirit of the world had seemingly usurped. 

When Dr. Barstow arose to commence the service, a profound hush fellupon the people. Even his face and bearing impressed and awed them, andit was evident that he, too, had climbed some spiritual mountain, andhad been face to face with God. 

As he proceeded with the service in tones that were deep and magnetic, the sense of unwonted solemnity increased. Hymns had been selected whichthe choir could not perform, but must sing; and the relation between thesacred words and the music was apparent. The Scripture lessons were readas if they were a message for that particular congregation and for thatspecial occasion, and, as the simple and authoritative words fell on theear the general misgiving was increased. They seemed wholly on Mrs. Arnot's side; or, rather, she was on theirs. 

When, at last, Dr. Barstow rose, not as a sacred orator and theologianwho is about to _deliver_ a sermon, but rather as an earnest man, who had something of vital moment to say, the silence became almostoppressive. 

Instead of commencing by formally announcing his text, as was hiscustom, he looked silently and steadily at his people for a moment, thusheightening their expectancy. 

"My friends, " he began slowly and quietly, and there was a suggestion ofsorrow in his tone rather than of menace or denunciation; "my friends, Iwish to ask your calm and unprejudiced attention to what I shall saythis morning. I ask you to interpret my words in the light of the wordof God and your own consciences; and if I am wrong in any respect I willreadily acknowledge it. Upon a certain occasion Christ said to hisdisciples, 'Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of'; and he at onceproved how widely his spirit differed from theirs. They accepted thelesson--they still followed him, and through close companionshipeventually acquired his merciful, catholic spirit. But at this time theydid not understand him nor themselves. Perhaps we can best understandthe spirit we are of by considering his, and by learning to know himbetter whom we worship, by whose name we are called. 

"During the past week I have been brought face to face with the Christof the Bible, rather than the Christ of theology and philosophy, who hashitherto dwelt in my study; and I have learned with sorrow and shamethat my spirit differed widely from his. The Christ that came fromheaven thought of the people, and had compassion on the multitude. I wasengrossed with my sermons, my systems of truth, and nice interpretationsof passages that I may have rendered more obscure. But I have made a vowin his name and strength that henceforth I will no longer come into thispulpit, or go into any other, to deliver sermons of my own. I shall nolonger philosophize about Christ, but endeavor to lead you directly toChrist; and thus you will learn by comparison what manner of spirit youare of, and, I trust, become imbued with his Spirit. I shall speak thetruth in love, and yet without fear, and with no wordy disguise. Henceforth I do not belong to you but to my Master, and I shall presentthe Christ who loved all, who died for all, and who said to all, 'Whosoever will, let him come!'

"You will find my text in the Gospel of St. John, the nineteenth chapterand fifth verse:

"'Then came Jesus forth, wearing the crown of thorns and the purplerobe. And Pilate saith unto them, Behold the Man!'

"Let us behold him to-day, and learn to know him and to know ourselvesbetter. If we discover any sad and fatal mistake in our religious life, let us correct it before it is too late. "

It would be impossible to portray the effect of the sermon thatfollowed, coming, as it did, from a strong soul stirred to its depths bythe truth under consideration. The people for the time being were swayedby it and carried away. What was said was seen to be truth, felt to betruth; and as the divine Man stood out before them luminous in his ownloving and compassionate deeds, which manifested his character and theprinciples of the faith he founded, the old, exclusive, self-pleasinglife of the church shrivelled up as a farce and a sham. 

"In conclusion, " said Dr. Barstow, "what was the spirit of this Man whenhe summoned publicans and fishermen to be his followers? what was hisspirit when he laid his hand on the leper? what, when he said to theoutcast, 'Neither do I condemn thee; go and sin no more'? what, when tothe haughty Pharisees, the most respectable people of that day, hethreatened, 'Woe unto you!'

"He looked after the rich and almost perfect young man, by whom he wasnevertheless rejected, and loved him; he also said to the penitentthief, 'To-day thou shalt be with me in Paradise. ' His heart was aslarge as humanity. Such was his spirit. '"

After a moment's pause, in which there was a hush of breathlessexpectancy, Dr. Barstow's deep tones were again heard. "God grant thathenceforth yonder doors may be open to all whom Christ received, andwith the same welcome that he gave. If this cannot be, the name of St. Paul, the man who 'made himself the servant unto all that he might gainthe more, ' can no longer remain upon this church save in mockery. Ifthis cannot be, whoever may come to this temple, Christ will not enterit, nor dwell within it. '"

The people looked at each other, and drew a long breath. Even those whowere most in love with the old system forgot Dr. Barstow, and felt forthe moment that they had a controversy with his Master. 

The congregation broke up in a quiet and subdued manner. All were toodeeply impressed by what they had heard to be in a mood for talking asyet; and of the majority, it should be said in justice that, consciousof wrong, they were honestly desirous of a change for the better. 

During the sermon Mr. Growther's quaint and wrinkled visage had workedmost curiously, and there were times when he with difficulty refrainedfrom a hearty though rather profane indorsement. 

On his way home he said to Haldane, "I've lived like a heathen on Lord'sday and all days; but, by the holy poker, I'll hear that parsonhereafter every Sunday, rain or shine, if I have to fight my way intothe church with a club. "

A peculiar fire burned in the young man's eyes and his lips were veryfirm, but he made no reply. The Man whose portraiture he had beheld thatday was a revelation, and he hoped that this divine yet human Friendmight make a man of him. 

"Well, " remarked Mr. Arnot, sententiously, "that sermon was a perfectbombshell; and, mark my words, it will either blow the doctor out of hispulpit, or some of the first-class saints out of their pews. "

But a serene and hopeful light shone from Mrs. Arnot's eyes, and sheonly said, in a low tone:

"The Lord is in his holy temple. "

CHAPTER XXXVI

MR. GROWTHER FEEDS AN ANCIENT GRUDGE

The problem in regard to the future of St. Paul's Church, which had sogreatly burdened Dr. Barstow, was substantially solved. Christ hadobtained control of the preacher's heart, and henceforth would not be adogma, but a living presence, in his sermons. The Pharisees of old couldnot keep the multitudes from him, though their motives for following himwere often very mixed. Although the philosophical Christ of theology, whom Dr. Barstow had ably preached, could not change the atmosphere ofSt. Paul's, the Christ of the Bible, the Man of Sorrows, the meek andlowly Nazarene, could, and the masses would be tempted to feel that theyhad a better right in a place sacred to his worship than those whoresembled him in spirit as little as they did in the pomp of their life. 

There would be friction at first, and some serious trouble. Mr. Arnot'sjudgment was correct, and some of the "first-class saints" (in their ownestimation) would be "blown out of their pews. " St. Paul's wouldeventually cease to be _the_ fashionable Church _par excellence_;and this fact alone would be good and sufficient reason for a change onthe part of some who intend to be select in their associations on earth, whatever relations with the "mixed multitude" they may have to endure inheaven. But the warm-hearted and true-hearted would remain; and everychurch grows stronger as the Pharisees depart and the publicans andsinners enter. 

The congregation that gathered at the evening service of the memorableSabbath described in the previous chapter was prophetic. Many of thewealthy and aristocratic members were absent, either from habit ordisgust. Haldane, Mr. Growther, and many who in some respects resembledthem, were present. "Jeems, " the discriminating sexton, had sagaciouslyguessed that the wind was about to blow from another quarter, and wasveering around also, as fast as he deemed it prudent. "Ordinary pussons"received more than ordinary attention, and were placed within earshot ofthe speaker. 

But the problem of poor Haldane's future was not clear by any means. Itis true a desire to live a noble life had been kindled in his heart, butas yet it was little more than a good impulse, an aspiration. In thefact that his eyes had been turned questioningly and hopefully towardthe only One who has ever been able to cope with the mystery of evil, there was rich promise; but just what this divine Friend could do forhim he understood as little as did the fishermen of Galilee. They lookedfor temporal change and glory; he was looking for some vague andmarvellous change and exaltation. 

But the Sabbath passed, and he remained his old self. Hoping, longingfor the change did not produce it. 

It was one of Mr. Growther's peculiarities to have a fire upon thehearth even when the evenings were so warm as not to require it. "Mightas well kinder git ourselves used to heat, " he would growl when Haldaneremonstrated. 

After the evening service they both lowered at the fire for some time insilence. 

"Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall notenter into the kingdom of heaven, " had been Dr. Barstow's text; and, asis usually the case, the necessity of conversion had been made clearerthan just what conversion is; and many more than the disquietedoccupants of the quaint old kitchen had been sent home sorely perplexedhow to set about the simple task of "believing. " But it was a happything for all that they had been awakened to the fact that somethingmust be done. After that sermon none could delude themselves with thehope that being decorous, well-dressed worshippers at St. Paul's wouldbe all that was required. 

But Mr. Growther needed no argument on this subject, and he had longbelieved that his only chance was, as he expressed it, "such anout-and-out shakin' to pieces, and makin' over agin that I wouldn't knowmyself. " Then he would rub his rheumatic legs despondently and add, "Butmy speretual j'ints have got as stiff and dry as these old walkin' pins;and when I try to git up some good sort o' feelin' it's like pumpin' ofa dry pump. I only feel real hearty when I'm a cussin'. A-a-h!"

But the day's experience and teaching had awakened anew in his breast, as truly as in Haldane's, the wish that he could be converted, whateverthat blessed and mysterious change might be; and so, with his wrinkledface seamed with deeper and more complex lines than usual, the poor oldsoul stared at the fire, which was at once the chief source of hiscomfort and the emblem of that which he most dreaded. At last hesnarled:

"I'm a blasted old fool for goin' to meetin' and gittin' all riled upso. Here, I haven't had a comfortable doze today, and I shall be kickin'around all night with nothin' runnin' in my head but 'Except ye beconvarted, except ye be convarted'; I wish I had as good a chance ofbein' convarted as I have of bein' struck by lightnin'. "

"I wish I needed conversion as little as you, " said Haldanedespondently. 

"Now look here, " snapped the old man; "I'm in no mood for any nonsenseto-night. I want you to know I never have been convarted, and I canprove it to you plaguy quick if you stroke me agin the fur. You've gotthe advantage of me in this business, though you have been a hard cuss;for you are young and kind o' limber yet. " Then, as he glanced at thediscouraged youth, his manner changed, and in a tone that was meant tobe kindly he added, "There, there! Why don't you pluck up heart? If Iwas as young as you be, I'd get convarted if it took me all summer. "

Haldane shook his head, and after a moment slowly and musingly said, asmuch to himself as to the giver of this good advice:

"I'm in the Slough of Despond, and I don't know how to get out. I cansee the sunny uplands that I long to reach, but everything is quakingand giving way under my feet. After listening to Dr. Barstow's grandsermon this morning, my spirit flamed up hopefully. Now he has placed aduty directly in my path that I cannot perform by myself. Mrs. Arnot hasmade it clear to me that the manhood I need is Christian manhood. Dr. Barstow proves out of the Bible that the first step toward this isconversion--which seems to be a mysterious change which I but vaguelyunderstand. I must do my part myself, he says, yet I am wholly dependenton the will and co-operation of another. Just what am I to do? Just whenand how will the help come in? How can I know that it will come? or howcan I ever be sure that I have been converted?"

"O, stop splittin' hairs!" said Mr. Growther, testily. "Hanged if I cantell you how it's all goin' to be brought about--go ask the parson toclear up these p'ints for you--but I can tell you this much: when yougit convarted you'll know it. If you had a ragin' toothache, and itsuddenly stopped and you felt comfortable all over, wouldn't you knowit? But that don't express it. You'd feel more'n comfortable; you'd feelso good you couldn't hold in. You'd be fur shoutin'; you wouldn't knowyourself. Why, doesn't the Bible say you'd be a new critter? There'll bejust such a change in your heart as there is in this old kitchen when wecome in on a cold, dark night and light the candles, and kindle a fire. I tell you what 'tis, young man, if you once got convarted your troubleswould be wellnigh over. "

Though the picture of this possible future was drawn in such homelylines, Haldane looked at it with wistful eyes. He had become accustomedto his benefactor's odd ways and words, and caught his sense beneath thegrotesque imagery. As he was then situated, the future drawn by the oldman and interpreted by himself was peculiarly attractive. He was verymiserable, and it is most natural, especially for the young, to wish tobe happy. He had been led to believe that conversion would lead to ahappiness as great as it was mysterious--a sort of miraculous ecstasy, that would render him oblivious of the hard and prosaic conditions ofhis lot. Through misfortune and his own fault he possessed a verydefective character. This character had been formed, it is true, byyears of self-indulgence and wrong, and Mrs. Arnot had asserted thatreform would require long, patient, and heroic effort. Indeed, she hadsuggested that in fighting and subduing the evils of one's own nature aman attained the noblest degree of knighthood. He had already learnedhow severe was the conflict in which he had been led to engage. 

But might not this mysterious conversion make things infinitely easier?If a great and radical change were suddenly wrought in his moral nature, would not evil appetites and propensities be uprooted like vile weeds?If a "new heart" were given him, would not the thoughts and desiresflowing from it be like pure water from an unsullied spring? After the"old things"--that is the evil--had passed away, would not that whichwas noble and good spring up naturally, and almost spontaneously?

This was Mr. Growther's view; and he had long since learned that the oldman's opinions were sound on most questions. This seemed, moreover, theteaching of the Bible also, and of such sermons as he could recall. Andyet it caused him some misgivings that Mrs. Arnot had not indicated moreclearly this short-cut out of his difficulties. 

But Mr. Growther's theology carried the day. As he watched the youngman's thoughtful face he thought the occasion ripe for the "word inseason. "

"Now is the time, " he said; "now while yer moral j'ints is limber. What's the use of climbin' the mountain on your hands and knees when youcan go up in a chariot of fire, if you can only git in it?" and hetalked and urged so earnestly that Haldane smiled and said:

"Mr. Growther, you have mistaken your vocation. You ought to have been amissionary to the heathen. "

"That would be sendin' a thief to ketch a thief. But you know I've agrudge agin the devil, if I do belong to him; and if I could help gityou out of his clutches it would do me a sight o' good. "

"If I ever do get out I shall indeed have to thank you. "

"I don't want no thanks, and don't desarve any. You're only giving me achance to hit the adversary 'twixt the eyes, " and the old man added hischaracteristic "A-a-h!" in an emphatic and vengeful manner, as if hewould like to hit very hard. 

Human nature was on the side of Mr. Growther's view of conversion. Nothing is more common than the delusive hope that health, shattered byyears of wilful wrong, can be regained by the use of some highlyextolled drug, or by a few deep draughts from some far-famed spring. 

Haldane retired to rest fully bent upon securing this vague and mightychange as speedily as possible. 

CHAPTER XXXVII

HOPING FOR A MIRACLE

Mr. Ivison, Haldane's employer, was a worshipper at St. Paul's, and, like many others, had been deeply impressed by the sermon. Its influencehad not wholly exhaled by Monday, and, as this gentleman was eminentlypractical, he felt that he ought to do something, as well as experiencea little emotion. Thus he was led to address the following note toHaldane:

Last week I gave you a chance; this week I am induced to give you a goodword. While I warn you that I will tolerate no weak dallying with yourold temptations, I also tell you that I would like to see you make a manof yourself, or, more correctly, perhaps, as Dr. Barstow would expressit, be made a man of. If one wants to do right, I believe there is helpfor him (go and ask the Rev. Dr. Barstow about this); and if you will goright straight ahead till I see you can be depended upon, I willcontinue to speak good words to you and for you, and perhaps do more. GEORGE IVISON. 

This note greatly encouraged Haldane, and made his precarious footholdamong the world's industries seem more firm and certain. The danger ofbeing swept back into the deep water where those struggle who have nofoothold, no work, no place in society would not come from the capriceor forgetfulness of his employer, but from his own peculiar temptationsand weaknesses. If he could patiently do his duty in his present humbleposition, he justly believed that it would be the stepping-stone tosomething better. But, having learned to know himself, he was afraid ofhimself; and he had seen with an infinite dread what cold, dark depthsyawn about one whom society shakes off as a vile and venomous thing, andwho must eventually take evil and its consequences as his only portion. The hot, reeking apartment wherein he toiled was the first solid groundthat he had felt beneath his feet for many days. If he could hold thatfooting, the water might shoal so that he could reach the land. It istrue he could always look to his mother for food and clothing if hewould comply with her conditions. But, greatly perverted as his naturehad been, food and clothing, the maintenance of a merely animal life, could no longer satisfy him. He had thought too deeply, and had seen toomuch truth, to feed contentedly among the swine. 

But the temptations which eventually lead to the swine--could hepersistently resist these? Could he maintain a hard, monotonous routineof toil, with no excitements, no pleasures, with nothing that evenapproached happiness? He dared not give way; he doubted his strength togo forward alone with such a prospect. If conversion be a blessedmiracle by which a debased nature is suddenly lifted up, and a harsh, lead-colored, prosaic world transfigured into the vestibule of heaven, he longed to witness it in his own experience. 

It was while he was in this mood that his thoughts recurred to Dr. Marks, the good old clergyman who had been the subject of his rude, practical joke months before. He recalled the sincere, frank letterwhich led to their evening interview, and remembered with a thrill ofhope the strong and mysterious emotion that had seized upon him as thevenerable man took his hand in his warm grasp, and said in tones ofpathos that shook his soul, "I wish I could lead you by loving forceinto the paths of pleasantness and peace. " Wild and reckless fool as hethen was, it had been only by a decided effort and abrupt departure thathe had escaped the heavenly influences which seemed to brood in thequiet study where the good man prayed and spun the meshes of the netswhich he daily cast for souls. If he could visit that study again with areceptive heart, might not the emotion that he bad formerly resistedrise like a flood, and sweep away his old miserable self, and he becomein truth a "new creature"?

The thought, having been once entertained, speedily grew into a hope, and then became almost a certainty. He felt that he would much rathersee Dr. Marks than Dr. Barstow, and that if he could feel that kind, warm grasp again, an impulse might be given him which even Mrs. Arnot'swise and gentle words could not inspire. 

Before the week was over he felt that something must be done either tosoften his hard lot or to give him strength to endure it. 

The men, boys, and girls who worked at his side in the mill were intheir natures like their garb, coarse and soiled. They resented thepresence of Haldane for a twofold reason; they regarded the intrusion ofa "jail-bird" among them in the light of an insult; they were still moreannoyed, and perplexed also, that this disreputable character made themfeel that he was their superior. Hence a system of petty persecutiongrew up. Epithets were flung at him, and practical jokes played upon himtill his heart boiled with anger or his nerves were irritated to thelast degree of endurance. More than once his fist was clenched tostrike; but he remembered in time that the heavier the blow he struck, the more disastrously it would react against himself. 

After the exasperating experiences and noise of the day, Mr. Growther'scottage was not the quiet refuge he needed. Mr. Growther's growl waschronic, and it rasped on Haldane's overstrained nerves like the filingof a saw. Dr. Barstow's sermons of the previous Sabbath had emphatically"riled" the old gentleman, and their only result, apparently, was tomake him more out-of-sorts and vindictive toward his poor, miserablelittle self than ever. He was so irascible that even the comfortable catand dog became aware that something unusual was amiss, and, instead ofdozing securely, they learned to keep a wary and deprecatory eye ontheir master and the toes of his thick-soled slippers. 

"I've been goin' on like a darned old porkerpine, " he said to Haldaneone evening, " and if you don't git convarted soon you'd better git outofmy way. If you was as meek as Moses and twice as good you couldn't standme much longer;" and the poor fellow felt that there was considerabletruth in the remark. 

The mill closed at an earlier hour on Saturday afternoon, and hedetermined to visit Dr. Marks if he could obtain permission from hisemployer to be absent a few hours on Monday morning. He wrote a note toMr. Ivison, cordially thanking him for his encouraging words, butadding, frankly, that he could make no promises in regard to himself. "All that I can say, is, " he wrote, "that I am trying to do right now, and that I am grateful to you for the chance you have given me. I wishto get the 'help' you suggest in your note to me, but, in memory ofcertain relations to my old pastor, Dr. Marks, I would rather see himthan Dr. Barstow, and if you will permit me to be absent a part of nextMonday forenoon I will esteem it a great favor, and will trespass onyour kindness no further. I can go after mill-hours on Saturday, andwill return by the first train on Monday. "

Mr. Ivison readily granted the request, and even became somewhat curiousas to the result. 

When Mrs. Arnot had learned from Haldane the nature of his presentemployment, she had experienced both pleasure and misgivings. That hewas willing to take and try to do such work rather than remain idle, ortake what he felt would be charity, proved that there was more goodmetal in his composition than she had even hoped; but she naturally feltthat the stinging annoyances of his position would soon becomeintolerable. She was not surprised, although she was somewhat perplexed, at the receipt of the following letter:

MY DEAR MRS. ARNOT. --You have been such a true, kind friend to me, andhave shown so much interest in my welfare, that I am led to give you afuller insight into my present experiences and hopes. You know that Iwish to be a Christian. You have made Christian manhood seem the mostdesirable thing that I can ever possess, but I make little or noprogress toward it. Something must be done, and quickly too. Eitherthere must be a great change in me, or else in my circumstances. Asthere is no immediate prospect of the latter, I have been led to hopethat there can be such a change in me that I shall be lifted above andmade superior to the exasperating annoyances of my condition. Yes, I amhoping even far more. If I could only experience the marvellous changewhich Dr. Barstow described so eloquently last Sunday evening, might Inot do right easily and almost spontaneously? It is so desperately hardto do right now! If conversion will render my steep, thorny pathinfinitely easier, then surely I ought to seek this change by everymeans in my power. Indeed, there must be a change in me, or I shall loseeven the foothold I have gained. I am subjected, all day long, to insultand annoyance. At times I am almost desperate and on the verge ofrecklessness. Every one of the coarse creatures that I am compelled towork with is a nettle that loses no chance to sting me; and there is oneamong them, a big, burly fellow, who is so offensive that I cannot keepmy hands off him much longer if I remain my old self. You also know whata reception I must ever expect in the streets when I am recognized. Thepeople act as if I were some sort of a reptile, which they must tolerateat large, but can, at least, shun with looks of aversion. And then, whenI get to Mr. Growther's cottage I do not find much respite. It seemslike ingratitude to write this, but the good old man's eccentric habitof berating himself and the world in general has grown wearisome, to saythe least. I want to be lifted out of myself--far above these pettyvexations and my own miserable weaknesses. 

Once, before I left home, I played a rude joke on our good old pastor. Instead of resenting it he wrote me such a kind letter that I went tohis study to apologize. While there his manner and words were such thatI had to break away to escape a sudden and mysterious influence thatinclined me toward all that is good. I have hoped that if I should visithim I might come under that influence again, and so be made a new andbetter man. 

I have also another motive, which you will understand. Mother and Idiffer widely on many things, and always will; but I long to see heronce more. I have been thinking of late of her many kindnesses--o thatshe had been less kind, less indulgent! But she cannot help the past anymore than I can, and it may do us both good to meet once more. I do notthink that she will refuse to see me or give me shelter for a few hours, even though her last letter seemed harsh. 

I shall also be glad to escape for a few hours from my squalid andwretched surroundings. The grime of the sordid things with which I haveso long been in contact seems eating into my very soul, and I long tosleep once more in my clean, airy room at home. 

But I am inflicting myself too long upon you. That I have ventured to doso is due to your past kindness, which I can only wonder at, but cannotexplain. Gratefully yours, E. HALDANE. 

Mrs. Arnot was more than curious; she was deeply interested in theresult of this visit, and she hoped and prayed earnestly that it mightresult in good. But she had detected an element in the young man'sletter which caused her considerable uneasiness. His idea of conversionwas a sudden and radical change in character that would be a sort ofspiritual magic, contravening all the natural laws of growth anddevelopment. He was hoping to escape from his evil habits andweaknesses, which were of long growth, as the leper escaped from hisdisease, by a healing and momentary touch. He would surely bedisappointed: might he not also be discouraged, and give up the patientand prayerful struggle which the sinful must ever wage against sin inthis world? She trusted, however, that God had commenced a good work inhis heart, and would finish it. 

Even the sight of his native city, with its spires glistening in thesetting sun, moved Haldane deeply, and when in the dusk he left thetrain, and walked once more through the familiar streets, his heart wascrowded with pleasant and bitter memories, which naturally produced asoftened and receptive mood. 

He saw many well-remembered faces, and a few glanced at him as if hesuggested one whom they had known. But he kept his hat drawn over hiseyes, and, taking advantage of the obscurity of the night, escapedrecognition. 

"It is almost like coming back after one has died, " he said to himself. "I once thought myself an important personage in this town, but it hasgot on better without me than it would have done with me. Truly, Mrs. Arnot is right--it's little the world cares for any one, and theabsurdest of all blunders is to live for its favor. "

It was with a quickly beating heart that he rang the bell at theparsonage, and requested to be shown up to Dr. Marks' study. Was thisthe supreme moment of his life, and he on the eve of that mysterious, spiritual change, of which he had heard so much, and the results ofwhich would carry him along as by a steady, mighty impulse throughearth's trials to heaven's glory? He fairly trembled at the thought. 

The girl who had admitted him pointed to the open study door, and hesilently crossed its threshold. The good old clergyman was bending overhis sermon, to which he was giving his finishing touches, and the softrays of the student's lamp made his white hair seem like a halo abouthis head. 

The sacred quiet of the place was disturbed only by the quill of thewriter, who was penning words as unworldly as himself. Another good olddivine, with his Bible in his hand, looked down benignantly andencouragingly at the young man from his black-walnut frame. He was thesainted predecessor of Dr. Marks, and the sanctity of his life of prayerand holy toil also lingered in this study. Old volumes and heavy tomesgave to it the peculiar odor which we associate with the cloister, andsuggested the prolonged spiritual musings of the past, which are so outof vogue in the hurried, practical world of to-day. This study was, indeed, a quiet nook--a little, slowly moving eddy left far behind bythe dashing, foaming current of modern life; and Haldane felt impressedthat he had found the hallowed place, the true Bethel, where his soulmight be born anew. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII

THE MIRACLE TAKES PLACE

"The body of my sermon is finished; may the Lord breathe into it thebreath of life!" ejaculated Dr. Marks, leaning back in his chair. 

Haldane now secured his attention by knocking lightly on the open door. The old gentleman arose and came forward with the ordinary kindly mannerwith which he would greet a stranger. 

"You do not remember me, " said Haldane. 

"I cannot say that I do. My eyesight is not as good as when I was atyour age. "

"I am also the last one you expect to see, but I trust I shall not beunwelcome when you know my motive for coming. I am Egbert Haldane, and Ihave hoped that your study would remain open, though nearly allrespectable doors are closed against me. "

"Egbert Haldane! Can I believe my eyes?" exclaimed the old clergyman, stepping eagerly forward. 

"When last in this place, " continued the youth, "I was led by yourgenerous forgiveness of my rude behavior toward you to say, that if Iever wished to become a Christian I would come to you sooner than to anyone else. I have come, for I wish to be a Christian. "

"Now the Lord be praised! He has heard his servant's prayers, " respondedDr. Marks fervently. "My study is open to you, my son, and my heart, too, " he added, taking Haldane's hand in both of his with a grasp thatemphasized his cordial words. "Sit down by me here, and tell me all thatis on your mind. "

This reception was so much kinder than he had even hoped, that Haldanewas deeply moved. The strong, genuine sympathy unsealed his lips, and inhonest and impetuous words he told the whole story of his life sincetheir last interview. The good doctor was soon fumbling for hishandkerchief, and as the story culminated, mopped his eyes, andejaculated, "Poor fellow!" with increasing frequency. 

"And now, " concluded Haldane, "if I could only think that God wouldreceive me as you have--if he would only change me from my miserableself to what I know I ought to be, and long to be--I feel that I couldserve him with gratitude and gladness the rest of my life, even though Ishould remain in the humblest station; and I have come to ask you what Iam to do?"

"He will receive you, my boy; he will receive you. No fears on thatscore, " said the doctor, with a heartiness that carried conviction. "Butdon't ask me what to do. I'm not going to interfere in the Lord's work. He is leading you. If you wanted a text or a doctrine explained I'dventure to give you my views; but in this vital matter I shall leave youin God's hands, 'being confident of this very thing, that he which hathbegun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ. 'I once set about reforming you myself, and you know what a bungle I madeof it. Now I believe the Lord has taken you in hand, and I shall notpresume to meddle. Bow with me in prayer that he may speedily bring youinto his marvellous light and knowledge. " And the good man knelt andspread his hands toward heaven, and prayed with the simplicity andundoubting faith of an ancient patriarch. 

Was his faith contagious? Did the pathos of his voice, his stronglymanifested sympathy, combine with all that had gone before to melt theyoung man's heart? Or, in answer to the prayer, was there present Onewhose province it is to give life? Like the wind that mysteriously risesand comes toward one with its viewless, yet distinctly felt power. Haldane was conscious of influences at work in his heart that were aspotent as they were incomprehensible. Fear and doubt were passing away. Deep emotion thrilled his soul. Nothing was distinct save a rush offeeling which seemed to lift him up as on a mighty tide, and bear himheavenward. 

This was what he had sought; this was what he had hoped; this strong, joyous feeling, welling up in his heart like a spring leaping into thesunlight, must be conversion. 

When he arose from his knees his eyes were full of tears, but a gladradiance shone through them, and grasping the doctor's hand, he saidbrokenly:

"I believe your prayer has been answered. I never felt so strangely--sohappy before. "

"Come with me, " cried the old man, impetuously, "come with me. Yourmother must learn at once that her son, who 'was dead, is alive again';"and a few moments later Haldane was once more in the low carriage, onhis way, with the enthusiastic doctor, to his old home. 

"We won't permit ourselves to be announced, " said the childlike oldclergyman as they drove up the gravelled road. "We will descend uponyour mother and sisters like an avalanche of happiness. "

The curtains in the sitting-room were not drawn, and the family groupwas before them. The apartment was furnished with elegance and taste, but the very genius of dreariness seemed to brood over its occupants. The sombre colors of their mourning dresses seemed a part of the deepshadow that was resting upon them, and the depth and gloom of the shadowwas intensified by their air of despondency and the pallor of theirfaces. The younger daughter was reading, but the elder and the motherheld their hands listlessly in their laps, and their eyes were fixed onvacancy, after the manner of those whose thoughts are busy with painfulthemes. 

Haldane could endure but a brief glance, and rushed in, exclaiming:

"Mother, forgive me!"

His presence was so unexpected and his onset so impetuous that the widowhad no time to consider what kind of a reception she ought to give herwayward son, of whom she had washed her hands. 

Her mother-love triumphed; her heart had long been sore with grief, andshe returned his embrace with equal heartiness. 

His sisters, however, had inherited more of their mother'sconventionality than of her heart; and the fact that this young man wastheir brother did not by any means obliterate from their minds the otherfacts, that he had a very bad reputation and that he was abominablydressed. Their greeting, therefore, was rather grave and constrained, and suggested that there might have been a death in the family, and thattheir brother had come home to attend the funeral. 

But the unworldly Dr. Marks was wholly absorbed in the blessed truththat the dead was alive and the lost found. He had followed Haldane intothe apartment, rubbing his hands, and beaming general congratulation. Believing that the serene light of Heaven's favor rested on the youth, he had forgotten that it would be long before society relaxed its darkfrown. It seemed to him that it was an occasion for great and unmixedrejoicing. 

After some brief explanations had been given to the bewilderedhousehold, the doctor said:

"My dear madam, I could not deny myself the pleasure of coming with yourson, that I might rejoice with you. The Lord has answered our prayers, you see, and you have reason to be the happiest woman living. "

"I am glad, indeed, " sighed the widow, "that some light is beginning toshine through this dark and mysterious providence, for it has been soutterly dark and full of mystery that my faith was beginning to waver. "

"The Lord will net suffer you to be tempted above that you are able, "said the clergyman, heartily. "When relief is essential it comes, and italways will come, rest assured. Take comfort, madam; nay, let your heartoverflow with joy without fear. The Lord means well by this young man. Take the unspeakable blessing he sends you with the gladness andgratitude of a child receiving gifts from a good Father's hands. Sincehe has begun the good work, he'll finish it. "

"I hope so. I do, indeed, hope that Egbert will now come to his senses, and see things and duty in their true light, as other people do, "ejaculated the widow, fervently. "If he had only taken the excellentadvice you first gave him here how much better it would have been for usall! But now--" A dreary sigh closed the sentence. 

"But now, " responded the doctor, a little warmly, "the Lord has saved asoul from death, and that soul is your only son. It appears to me thatthis thought should swallow up every other; and it will, when yourealize it, " he concluded, heartily. "This world and the fashion of itpasseth away. Since all promises well for the world to come, you haveonly cause for joy. As for my excellent advice, I was better pleasedwith it at the time than the Lord was. I now am thankful that he let itdo no more harm than it did. "

"We cannot help the past, mother, " said Haldane, eagerly, "let us turnour eyes to the future, which is all aglow with hope. I feel that Godhas forgiven me, and the thought fills my heart with a tumult of joy. Your warm embrace assures me that you have also forgiven the wrong, theshame, and sorrow you have received at my hands. Henceforth it shall bemy life-effort that you receive the reverse of all this. I at last feelwithin me the power to live as a true man ought. "

"I trust your hopes may be realized, Egbert; I do, indeed; but you wereso confident before--and then we all know what followed, " concluded hismother, with a shudder. 

"My present feeling, my present motives, in no respect resemble mycondition when I started out before. I was then a conceited fool, ignorant of myself, the world, and the task I had attempted. But now Ifeel that all is different. Mother, " he exclaimed with a rush ofemotion, "I feel as if heaven had almost begun in my heart! why, then, do you cloud this bright hour with doubts and fears?"

"Well, my son, we will hope for the best, " said his mother, endeavoringto throw off her despondency, and share in the spirit which animated herpastor. "But I have dwelt so long in sorrow and foreboding that it willrequire time before I can recover my old natural tone. These sudden andstrong alternations of feeling and action on your part puzzle anddisquiet me, and I cannot see why one brought up as you have been shouldnot maintain a quiet, well-bred deportment, and do right as a matter ofcourse, as your sisters do. And yet, if Dr. Marks truly thinks that youmean to do right from this time forward, I shall certainly take courage;though how we are going to meet what has already occurred I hardly see. "

"I do, indeed, believe that your son intends to do right, and I alsobelieve that the Lord intends to help him--which is of far greaterconsequence, " said Dr. Marks. "I will now bid you good-night, asto-morrow is the Sabbath; and let me entreat you, my dear madam, inparting, to further by your prayer and sympathy the good work which theLord has begun. "

Haldane insisted on seeing the old gentleman safely back to his study. Their ride was a rather quiet one, each being busy with his ownthoughts. The good man had found his enthusiasm strangely quenched inthe atmosphere in which Mrs. Haldane dwelt, and found that, in spite ofhimself, he was sharing in her doubts and fears as to the future courseof the erratic and impulsive youth at his side. He blamed himself forthis, and tried to put doubt resolutely away. By a few earnest words hesought to show the young man that only as the grace of God was dailyasked for and daily received could he hope to maintain the Christianlife. 

He now began to realize what a difficult problem was before the youth. Society would be slow to give him credit for changed motives andcharacter, and as proof would take only patient continuance inwell-doing. The good doctor now more than suspected that in his own homeHaldane would find much that was depressing and enervating. Worse thanall, he would have to contend with an excitable and ungoverned nature, already sadly warped and biased wrongly. "What will be the finalresult?" sighed the old gentleman to himself. But he soon fell backhopefully on his belief that the Lord had begun a good work and wouldfinish it. 

Haldane listened attentively and gratefully to all that his old friendhad to say, and felt sure that he could and would follow the advicegiven. Never before had right living seemed so attractive, and the pathof duty so luminous. But the thought that chiefly filled him with joywas that henceforth he would not be compelled to plod forward as a wearypilgrim. He felt that he had wings; some of the divine strength had beengiven him. He believed himself changed, renewed, transformed; he wasconfident that his old self had perished and passed away, and that, as anew creature, ennobling tendencies would control him completely. He feltthat prayer would henceforth be as natural as breathing, and praise andworship, the strong and abiding instincts of his heart. 

CHAPTER XXXIX

VOTARIES OF THE WORLD

When Haldane returned he found that his sisters had retired. He was notsorry, for he wished a long and unrestrained talk with his mother; butthat lady pleaded that the events of the evening had so unnerved her, and that there was so much to be considered, that she must have quiet. In the morning they would try to realize their situation, and decideupon the best course to be pursued. 

Even in his exaltation the last suggestion struck Haldane unpleasantly. Might not his mother mark out, and take as a test of his sincerity, somecourse that would accord with her ideas of right, but not with his? Butthe present hour was so full of mystical and inexplicable happiness thathe gave himself up to it, believing that the divine hands, in which hebelieved himself to be, would provide for him as a helpless child iscared for. 

The mill-people among whom he had worked the previous week wouldscarcely have recognized him as he came down to breakfast the followingmorning, dressed with taste and elegance. It was evident that hissisters could endure him with better grace than when clad in his coarse, working garb, redolent with the hitherto unimagined odors pertaining towell-oiled machinery. They, with his mother, greeted him, however, withthe air of those who are in the midst of the greatest misfortunes, butwho hope they see a coming ray of light. 

With their sincere but conventional ideas of life he was, in truth, adifficult problem. Nor can they be very greatly blamed. This youth, whomight have been their natural protector against every scandalous andcontemptuous word, and whose arm it would have been their pride to takebefore the world, had now such a reputation that only an affectionall-absorbing and unselfish would be willing to brave the curious andscornful stare that follows one who had been so disgraced. Mrs. Haldaneand her daughters were not without natural affection, but they weremorbidly sensitive to public opinion. Like many who live somewhatsecluded from the world, they imagined that vague and dreaded entity wasgiving them much more attention than it did. "What will people say?" wasa terrible question to them. 

Nothing could be further from their nature than an attempt to attractthe world's attention by loud manners or flaunting dress; but it wasessential to their peace that good society should regard them aseminently respectable, aristocratic, and high-toned--as a family farremoved from vulgar and ordinary humanity. That their name, in theperson of a son and brother, had been dragged through courts, criminalrecords, and jails, was an unparalleled disaster, that grew moreoverwhelming as they brooded over it. It seemed to them that the world'sgreat eye was turned full upon them in scorn and wonder, and that onlyby maintaining their perfect seclusion, or by hiding among strangers, could they escape its cruel glare. 

After all, their feelings were only morbid developments of the instinctsof a refined womanly nature; but the trouble was, they had not thewomanly largeness of heart and affection which would have made themequal to the emergency, however painful. Poor Mrs. Haldane was one ofthose unfortunate people who always fall below the occasion; indeed, sheseldom realized it. Providence had now given her a chance to atone formuch of her former weakness and ruinous indulgence, but her little mindwas chiefly engrossed with the question, What can we do to smoothmatters over, and regain something like our old standing in society? Asthe result of a long consultation with her daughters, it was concludedthat their best course was to go abroad. There they could venture outwith him who was the skeleton of the household, without having every oneturn and look after them with all kinds of comment upon their lips. After several years in Europe they hoped society would be inclined toforget and overlook the miserable record of the past few months. 

That the young man himself would offer opposition to the plan, andprefer to return to the scene of his disgrace, and to his sordid toil, did not enter their minds. 

In the enthusiasm of his new-born faith Haldane had determined to facethe public gaze, and hear Dr. Marks preach. It is true, he had greatlydreaded the ordeal--and for his mother and sisters, far more than forhimself. When he began to intimate something of this feeling his motherpromptly motioned to the waitress to withdraw from the room. He thensoon learned that they had not attended church since Mrs. Haldane'sreturn from her memorable visit to Hillaton, and that they had nointention of going to-day. 

"The very thought makes me turn faint and sick, " said the poor, weakgentlewoman. 

"We should feel like sinking through the floor of the aisle, " chorusedthe pallid young ladies. 

Haldane ceased partaking of his breakfast at once, and leaned back inhis chair. 

"Do you mean to say, " he asked gloomily, "that my folly has turned thishouse into a tomb, and that you will bury yourselves here indefinitely?"

"Well, " sighed the mother, "if we live this wretched life of seclusion, brooding over our troubles much longer, smaller tombs will suffice us. You see that your sisters are beginning to look like ghosts, and I'msure I feel that I can never lift up my head again. I know it is saidthat time works wonders. Perhaps if we went abroad for a few years, andthen resided in some other city, or in the seclusion of some quietcountry place, we might escape this--" and Mrs. Haldane finished with asigh that was far worse than any words could have been. After a momentshe concluded: "But, of course, we cannot go out here, where all thathas happened is so fresh, and uppermost in every one's mind. The more Ithink of it, the more decided I am that the best thing for us all is togo to some quiet watering-place in Europe, where there are but few, ifany, Americans; and in time we may feel differently. "

Her son ate no more breakfast. He was beginning to realize, as he hadnot before, that he was in a certain sense a corpse, which this decorousand exquisitely refined family could not bury, but would hide as far aspossible. 

"You then expect me to go with you to Europe?" he said. 

"Certainly. We could not go without a gentleman. "

"That I scarcely am now, mother, in your estimation or in society's. Ithink you could get on better without me. "

"Now, Egbert, be sensible. "

"What am I to do in this secluded European watering-place, where thereare no Americans, and at which we are to sojourn indefinitely?"

"I am sure I have not thought. Your sisters, at least, can venture outand get a breath of fresh air. It is time you thought of them ratherthan of yourself. You could amuse yourself with the natives, or byfishing and hunting. "

"Mother!" he exclaimed, impetuously, "I no longer desire to merely amusemyself. I wish to become a man, in the best sense of the word. "

Mrs. Haldane evidently experienced a disagreeable nervous shock at thesudden intensity of his manner, but she said, with rebuking quietness:

"I am sure I wish you to become such a man, thoroughly well bred, andthoroughly under self-control. It is my purpose to enable you to appearlike a perfect gentleman from this time forward, and I expect that youwill be one. "

"What will I be but a well-dressed nonentity? what will I be but acoward, seeking to get away as far as possible from the place of mydefeat, and to hide from its consequences?" he answered, with sharp, bitter emphasis. 

"Egbert, your tendency to exaggeration and violent speech is more than Ican bear in my weak, nervous condition. When you have thought thismatter over calmly, and have realized how I and your sisters feel, youwill see that we are right--that is, if Dr. Marks is correct, and you doreally wish to atone for the past as far as it now can be done. "

The young man paced restlessly up and down the room in an agitatedmanner, which greatly disquieted his mother and sisters. 

"Can you not realize, " he at last burst out, "that I, also, have aconscience? that I am no longer a child? and that I cannot see things asyou do?"

"Egbert, " exclaimed his elder sister, lifting her hand deprecatingly, "we are not deaf. "

"If you will only follow your conscience, " continued Mrs. Haldane, inher low monotone, "all will be well. It is your being carried away bygusts of impulse and violent passions that makes all the trouble. If youhad followed your conscience you would at once have left Hillaton at myrequest, and hidden yourself in the seclusion that I indicated. If youhad done so, you might have saved yourself and us from all that hassince occurred. "

"But I would have lost my self-respect. I should have done worse--"

"Self-respect!" interrupted his mother, with an expression akin todisgust flitting across her pale face. "How can you use that word afterwhat has happened, and especially now that you are working among thosevulgar factory people, and living with that profane old creature whogoes by the name of 'Jerry Growler. ' To think that you, who bear yourfather's name, should have fallen so low! The daily and hourlymortification of thinking of all this, here, where for so many yearsthere was not a speck upon our family reputation, is more than flesh andblood can endure. Our only course now is to go away where we are notknown. Our best hope is to make you appear like what your father meantyou should be, and try to forget that you have been anything else; andif you have any sense of obligation to us left you will do what you canto carry out our efforts. Dr. Marks thinks you have met with 'a changeof heart. ' I am sure yon can prove it in no better way than by a docileacquiescence in the wishes of one who has a natural right to controlyou, and whose teachings, " she added complacently, "had they beenfollowed, would have enabled you to hold up your head to-day among theproudest in the land. "

Haldane buried his face in his hands, and fairly groaned, in hisdisappointment and sense of humiliation. 

"Is it possible, " asked one of his sisters "that you thought that wecould all go out to church to-day as usual, and commence life to-morrowwhere he left off when you first went away from home?"

"I expected nothing of the kind, " said her brother, lifting up a facethat was pale from suppressed feeling; "the fact is, I have thoughtlittle about all this that is uppermost in your minds. I have been allthrough the phase of shrinking from the world's word and touch, as if mywhole being were a diseased nerve. While in that condition I sufferedenough, God knows; but even in the police court I was not made to feelmore thoroughly that I was a disgraced criminal than I have been here, in my childhood's home. Perhaps you can't help your feeling; but theresult is all the same. Through the influence of a woman who belongs toheaven rather than earth, I was led to forget the world and all aboutit; I was led to wish to form a good character for its own sake. Iwanted to be rid of the debasing vices of my nature which she had mademe hate, and which would separate me from such as she is. I wanted yourforgiveness, mother. More than all, I wanted God's forgiveness, and thatgreat change in my nature which he alone can bestow. I felt that Dr. Marks could help me, because I believed in him; and he did carry me, asit were, to the very gate of heaven. I expected, at least, a littlesympathy from you all, and a God-speed as I went back to my worktomorrow. I even hoped that you might take me by the hand, and say tothose who knew us here, 'My son was lost, but is found. He wishes tolive a manly, Christian life, and all who are Christians should helphim. ' I find, on the contrary, that Christ and his words are forgotten;that I am regarded as a hideous and deformed creature, that must bedisguised as far as possible, and spirited off to some remote corner ofthe earth, and there virtually buried alive. Thus different are theteachings of the Bible and the teachings of the world. I thought I couldnot endure my hard lot at Hillaton any longer, but I shall go back to itquite content. "

As the youth uttered these words, with his usual impetuosity, his mothercould only weep and tremble in her weak and nervous way; but his sistersexclaimed:

"Go back to your old mill-life at Hillaton!"

"Yes, by the first train, to-morrow. "

"Well!" they chorused, with a long breath, but as all language seemedinadequate they added nothing to their exclamation. 

Mrs. Haldane slowly wiped her eyes, and said, "Egbert is excited now, and does not realize how we feel. After he has thought it all overquietly he will see things in a different light, and will perceive thathe should take counsel from his mother rather than from a stranger"(with peculiar emphasis on this word). "If he really wishes to do hisduty as a Christian man, he will see that the first and most sacredobligations resting on him are to us and not to others, even though theymay be more angelic than we are. You promised last evening that it wouldbe your life-effort to make amends for the wrongs you have inflictedupon us; and going back to your old, sordid life and vulgar associationswould be a strange way of keeping this pledge. I suggest that we allretire to our rooms, and in the after part of the day we shall becalmer, and therefore more rational;" and the ladies quietly glided out, like black shadows. Indeed, they and their lives had become little morethan attenuated shadows. 

There is nothing which so thoroughly depletes and robs moral characterof all substance--there is nothing which so effectually destroys allrobust individuality--as the continuous asking of the question, "Whatwill, people say?"

Poor Haldane went to his room, and paced it by the hour. He had learnedthus early that the Christian life was not made up of sacred andbeatific emotions, under the influence of which duty would become aneasy, sun-illumined path. 

He already was in sore perplexity as to what his duty was in thisinstance. Ought he not to devote himself to his mother and sisters, andhope that time would bring a healthful change in their morbid feeling?Surely what they asked would not seem hard in the world's estimation--atrip to Europe, and a life of luxurious ease and amusement--for societywould agree with his mother, that he could be as good and Christian-likeas he pleased in the meantime. The majority would say that if he couldin part make amends by acquiescence in so reasonable a request, and onethat promised so much of pleasure and advantage to himself, he oughtcertainly to yield. 

But all that was good and manly in the young fellow's nature rose upagainst the plan. In the first place, he instinctively felt that hismother and sisters' views on nearly all subjects would be continually atvariance with his own, since they were coming to look at life from suchtotally different standpoints. He also believed that he would be anever-present burden and source of mortification to them. As a child anda boy he had been their idol. They had looked forward to the time whenhe, with irreproachable manners and reputation, would become theirescort in the exclusive circles in which they were entitled to move. Nowhe was and would continue to be the insuperable bar to those circles;and by their sighs and manner he would be continually reminded of thisfact. Fallen idols are a perpetual offence to their former worshippers, as they ever remind of the downfall of towering hopes. 

With all his faults, Haldane had too much spirit to go through life asone who must be tolerated, endured, kept in the background, andconcerning whom no questions must be asked. 

He did think the matter over long and carefully, and concluded that evenfor his mother and sisters' sake it would be best that they should liveapart. If he could thoroughly retrieve his character where he had lostit, they would be reconciled to him; if he could not, he would be lessof a burden and a mortification absent than present. 

When he considered his own feelings, the thought of skulking and hidingthrough life made his cheek tingle with shame and disgust. Consciencesided with his inclination to go back to his old, hard fight atHillaton; and it also appeared to him that he could there bettermaintain a Christian life, in spite of all the odds against him, than bytaking the enervating course marked out by his mother. He alsoremembered, with a faint thrill of hope, that whatever recognition hecould get at Hillaton as a changed, a better man, it would be based onthe rock of truth. 

He therefore concluded to go back as he had intended, and with thedecision came his former, happy, mystical feeling, welling up in hisheart like the sweet refreshing waters of a spring, the consciousness ofwhich filled his heart with courage and confidence as to the future. 

"Surely, " he exclaimed, "I am a changed, a converted man. These strange, sweet emotions, this unspeakable gladness of heart in the midst of somuch that is painful and distracting, prove that I am. I have not takenthis journey in vain. "

Haldane met only his sisters at dinner, for the scene of the morning hadprostrated his mother with a nervous headache. In spite of his efforts, it was a constrained and dismal affair, and all were glad when it wasover. 

In the evening they all met in Mrs. Haldane's room, and the young mantold them his decision so firmly and quietly that, while they were bothsurprised and angry, they saw it was useless to remonstrate. He nextdrew such a dreary picture of the future as they had designed it, thatthey were half inclined to think he was right, and that his presencewould be a greater source of pain than of comfort to them. He alsoconvinced them that it would be less embarrassing for them to go toEurope alone than with his escort, and that the plan of going abroadneed not be given up. 

But Mrs. Haldane was strenuous on the point that he should leaveHillaton, accept of her old offer, and live a quiet, respectable life insome retired place where he was not known. 

"I will not have it said, " she persisted, "that my son is working as acommon factory hand, nor will I have our name associated with thatwretched old creature whose profanity and general outlandishness are thetown-talk and the constant theme of newspaper squibs. You at least oweit to us to let this scandal die out as speedily as possible. If youwill comply with these most reasonable requirements, I will see that youhave an abundant support. If you will not, I have no evidence of achange in your character; nor can I see any better way than to leave youto suffer the consequences of your folly until you do come to yoursenses. "

"Mother, do you think a young fellow of my years and energy could go toan out-of-the-way place, and just mope, eat, and sleep for the sake ofbeing supported? I would rather starve first. I fear we shall neverunderstand each other; and I have reached that point in life when I mustfollow my own conscience. I shall leave to-morrow morning before any ofyou are up; and in my old working clothes. Good-by;" and before theycould realize it he had kissed them and left the room. 

They weakly sighed as over the inevitable; but one of his sisters said, "He will be glad enough to come to your terms before winter. "

CHAPTER XL

HUMAN NATURE

At an early hour Haldane, true to his purpose, departed from the home ofhis childhood in the guise of a laborer, as he had come. His motherheard his step on the stairs, for she had passed a sleepless night, agitated by painful emotions. She wished to call him back; she grievedover his course as a "dark and mysterious providence, " as a misfortunewhich, like death, could not be escaped; but with the persistence of alittle mind, capable of taking but a single and narrow view, she wasabsolutely sure she was right in her course, and that nothing but harshand bitter experience would bring her wayward son to his senses. 

Nor did it seem that the harsh experience would be wanting, for themorning was well advanced when he reached his place of work, and hereceived a severe reprimand from the foreman for being so late. Hisexplanation, that he had received permission to be absent, wasincredulously received. It also seemed that gibes, taunts, and sneerswere flung at him with increasing venom by his ill-natured associates, who were vexed that they had not been able to drive him away by theirpersecutions. 

But the object of their spite was dwelling in a world of which they knewnothing, and in which they had no part, and, almost oblivious of theirexistence, he performed his mechanical duty in almost undisturbedserenity. 

Mr. Growther welcomed him back most heartily and with an air of eagerexpectation, and when Haldane briefly but graphically narrated hisexperience, he hobbled up and down the room in a state of greatexcitement. 

"You've got it! you've got it! and the genuine article, too, as sure asmy name is Jeremiah Growther!" he exclaimed; "I'd give the whole airth, and anything else to boot, that was asked, if I could only git religion. But it's no use for me to think about it; I'm done, and cooled off, andwould break inter ten thousand pieces if I tried to change myself. Icouldn't feel what you feel any more than I could run and jump as youkin. My moral j'ints is as stiff as hedge-stakes. If I tried to git up alittle of your feelin', it would be like tryin' to hurry along thespring by buildin' a fire on the frozen ground. It would only make onelittle spot soft and sloppy; the fire would soon go out: then it wouldfreeze right up agin. Now, with you it's spring all over; you feeltender and meller-like, and everything good is ready to sprout. Well, well! if I do have to go to old Nick at last, I'm powerful glad he's hadthis set-back in your case. "

Long and earnestly did Haldane try to reason his quaint friend out ofhis despairing views of himself. At last the old man said testily:

"Now, look here; you're too new-fledged a saint to instruct a seasonedand experienced old sinner like me. You don't know much about the Lord'sways yet, and I know all about the devil's ways. Because you've got outof his clutches (and I'm mighty glad you have) you needn't make light ofhim, and take liberties with him as if he was nobody, 'specially whenScripter calls him 'a roarin' lion. ' If I was as young as you be, I'dmake a dead set to git away from him; but after tryin' more times thanyou've lived years, I know it ain't no use. I tell you I can't feel asyou feel, any more than you can squeeze water out of them old andirons. A-a-h!"

Haldane was silent, feeling that the old man's spiritual condition wastoo knotty a problem for him to solve. 

After a few moments Mr. Growther added, in a voice that he meant to bevery solemn and impressive:

"But I want you to enjoy your religious feelin's all the same. I willlisten to all the Scripter readin' and prayin' you're willin' to do, without makin' any disturbance. Indeed, I think I will enjoy my wittlesmore, now that an honest grace can be said over 'em. An' when you readthe Bible, you needn't read the cussin' parts, if yer don't want to. I'll read 'em to myself hereafter. I'll give you all the leeway that anold curmudgeon like myself kin; and I expect to take a sight o' comfortin seein' you goin' on your way rejoicin'. "

And he did seem to take as much interest in the young man's progress andnew spiritual experiences as if he alone were the one interested. Hisefforts to control his irritability and profanity were both odd andpathetic, and Haldane would sometimes hear him swearing softly tohimself, with strange contortions of his wrinkled face, when in formertimes he would have vented his spite in the harshest tones. 

Haldane wrote fully to Mrs. Arnot of his visit to his native city andits happy results, and enlarged upon his changed feelings as the proofthat he was a changed man. 

Her reply was prompt and was filled with the warmest congratulations andexpressions of the sincerest sympathy. It also contained these words:

"I fear that you are dwelling too largely upon your feelings andexperiences, and are giving to them a value they do not possess. Notthat I would undervalue them--they are gracious tokens of God's favor;but they are not the grounds of your salvation and acceptance with God. "

Haldane did not believe that they were--he had been too well taught forthat--but he regarded them as the evidences that he was accepted, thathe was a Christian; and he expected them to continue, and to bear himforward, and through and over the peculiar trials of his lot, as on astrong and shining tide. 

Mrs. Arnot also stated that she was just on the eve of leaving home fora time, and that on her return she would see him and explain more fullyher meaning. 

In conclusion, she wrote: "I think you did what was right and best inreturning to Hillaton. At any rate, you have reached that age when youmust obey your own conscience, and can no longer place theresponsibility of your action upon others. But, remember, that you oweto your mother the most delicate forbearance and consideration. Youshould write to her regularly, and seek to prove that you are guided byprinciple rather than impulse. Your mother has much reason to feel asshe does, and nothing can excuse you from the sacred duties you owe toher. "

Haldane did write as Mrs. Arnot suggested. In a few days he received thefollowing letter from his mother:

"We shall sail for Europe as soon as we can get ready for the journey. Our lawyer is making all the necessary arrangements for us. I will leavefunds with him, and whenever you are ready in good faith to accept myoffer, leave Hillaton, and live so that this scandal can die out, youcan obtain from him the means of living decently and quietly. As it is, I live in daily terror lest you again do something which will bring ourname into the Hillaton papers; and, of course, everything is copied bythe press of this city. Will the time ever come when you will consideryour mother's and sisters' feelings?"

For a time all went as well as could be expected in the tryingcircumstances of Haldane's life. His prayers for strength and patiencewere at first earnest, and their answers seemed assured--so assured, indeed, that in times of haste and weariness prayer eventually came tobe hurried or neglected. Before he was aware of it, feeling began to ebbaway. He at last became troubled, and then alarmed, and made greateffort to regain his old, happy emotions and experiences; but, like anoutgoing tide, they ebbed steadily away. 

His face indicated his disquiet and anxiety, for he felt like one whowas clinging to a rope that was slowly parting, strand by strand. 

Keen-eyed Mr. Growther watched him closely, and was satisfied thatsomething was amiss. He was much concerned, and took not a little of theblame upon himself. 

"How can a man be a Christian, or anything else that's decent, when hekeeps such cussed company as I be?" he muttered. "I s'pose I kinderpisen and wither up his good feelin's like a sulphuric acid fact'ry. "

One evening he exclaimed to Haldane, "I say, young man, you had betterpull out o' here. "

"What do you mean?"

"I'll give you a receipt in full and a good character, and then you lookfor a healthier boardin'-place. "

"Ah, I see! You wish to be rid of me?"

"No, you don't see, nuther. I wish you to be rid of me. "

"Of course, if you wish me to go, I'll go at once, " said Haldane, in adespondent tone. 

"And go off at half-cock into the bargain? I ain't one of the kind, youknow, that talks around Robin Hood's barn. I go straight in at the frontdoor and out at the back. It's my rough way of coming to the p'int atonce. I kin see that you're runnin' behind in speret'al matters, and Ibelieve that my cussedness is part to blame. You don't feel good as youused to. It would never do to git down at the heel in these matters, 'cause the poorest timber in the market is yer old backsliders. I'drather be what I am than be a backslider. The right way is to take thesethings in time, before you git agoin' down hill too fast. It isn't thatI want to git rid of you at all. I've kinder got used to you, and liketo have you 'round 'mazingly; but I don't s'pose it's possible for youto feel right and live with me, and so you had better cut stick in time, for you must keep a-feelin' good and pi'us-like, my boy, or it's all upwith you. "

"Then you don't want me to go for the sake of your own comfort?"

"Not a bit of it. I only want you to git inter a place that isn't somorally pisened as this, where I do so much cussin'; for I will and mustcuss as long as there's an atom left of me as big as a head of a pin. A-a-h!"

"Then I prefer to take my chances with you to going anywhere else. "

"Think twice. "

"I have thought more than twice. "

"Then yer blood be on yer own head, " said Mr. Growther with tragicsolemnity, as if he were about to take Haldane's life. "My skirts isclear after this warnin'. "

"Indeed they are. You haven't done me a bit of harm. "

"Where does the trouble come from then? Who is a-harmin' you?"

"Well, Mr. Growther, " said Haldane, wearily, "I hardly know what is thematter. I am losing zest and courage unaccountably. My old, happy andhopeful feelings are about all gone, and in their place all sorts ofevil thoughts seem to be swarming into my mind. I have tried to keep allthis to myself, but I have become so wretched that I must speak. Mrs. Arnot is away, or she might help me, as she ever does. I wish that Ifelt differently; I pray that I may, but in spite of all I seem driftingback to my old miserable self. Every day I fear that I shall havetrouble at the mill. When I felt so strong and happy I did not mind whatthey said. One day I was asked by a workman, who is quite a decentfellow, how I stood it all? and I replied that I stood it as anywell-meaning Christian man could. My implied assertion that I was aChristian was taken up as a great joke, and now they call me the 'pi'usjail-bird. ' As long as I felt at heart that I was a Christian, I did notcare; but now their words gall me to the quick. I do not know what tothink. It seems to me that if any one ever met with a change I did. I'msure I wish to feel now as I did then; but I grow worse every day. I amlosing self-control and growing irritable. This evening, as I passedliquor saloons on my way home, my old appetite for drink seemed asstrong as ever. What does it all mean?"

Mr. Growther's wrinkled visage worked curiously, and at last he said ina tone and manner that betokened the deepest distress:

"I'm awfully afeerd you're a-backslidin'. "

"I wish I had never been born, " exclaimed the youth, passionately, "forI am a curse to myself and all connected with me, I know I shall havetrouble with one man at the mill. I can see it coming, and then, ofcourse, I shall be discharged. I seem destined to defeat in this my lastattempt to be a man, and I shall never have the courage or hope to tryagain. If I do break down utterly, I feel as if I will become a verydevil incarnate. O! how I wish that Mrs. Arnot was home. "

"Now this beats me all out, " said Mr. Growther, in great perplexity. "Awhile ago you felt like a saint and acted like one, now you talk and actas if Old Nick and all his imps had got a hold on ye. How do you explainall this, for it beats me?"

"I don't and can't explain. But here are the facts, and what are yougoing to do with them?"

"I ain't a-goin' to do nothin' with 'em except cuss 'em; and that's allI kin do in any case. You've got beyond my depth. "

The sorely tempted youth could obtain but little aid and comfort, therefore, from his quaint old friend, and, equally perplexed and unableto understand himself, he sought to obtain such rest as his disquietedcondition permitted. 

As a result of wakefulness in the early part of the night, he slept latethe following morning, and hastened to his work with scarcely a mouthfulof breakfast. He was thus disqualified, physically as well as mentally, for the ordeal of the day. 

He was a few minutes behind time, and a sharp reprimand from the foremanrasped his already jangling nerves. But he doggedly set his teeth andresolved to see and hear nothing save that which pertained to his work. 

He might have kept his resolve had there been nothing more to contendwith than the ordinary verbal persecution. But late in the afternoon, when he had grown weary from the strain of the day, his specialtormentor, a burly Irishman, took occasion, in passing, to push himrudely against a pert and slattern girl, who also was foremost in thetacit league of petty annoyance. She acted as if the contact ofHaldane's person was a purposed insult, and resented it by a sharp slapof his face. 

Her stinging stroke was like a spark to a magazine; but paying no heedto her, he sprang toward her laughing ally with fierce oaths upon hislips, and by a single blow sent him reeling to the floor. The machinerywas stopped sharply, as far as possible, by the miscellaneousworkpeople, to whom a fight was a boon above price, and with shrill andclamorous outcries they gathered round the young man where he stood, panting, like a wounded animal at bay. 

His powerful antagonist was speedily upon his feet, and at once made arush for the youth who had so unexpectedly turned upon him; and thoughhe received another heavy blow, his onset was so strong that he was ableto close with Haldane, and thus made the conflict a mere trial of bruteforce. 

As Haldane afterward recalled the scene, he was conscious that at thetime he felt only rage, and a mad desire to destroy his opponent. 

In strength they were quite evenly matched, and after a moment'sstruggle both fell heavily, and Haldane was able to disengage himself. As the Irishman rose, and was about to renew the fight, he struck him sotremendous a blow on the temple that the man went to the floor as ifpierced by a bullet, and lay there stunned and still. 

When Haldane saw that his antagonist did not move, time was given him tothink; he experienced a terrible revulsion. He remembered his profanityand brutal rage, he felt that he had broken down utterly. He wasoverwhelmed by his moral defeat, and covering his face with his hands, he groaned "Lost, lost!"

"By jocks, " exclaimed a rude, half-grown fellow, "that clip would havefelled an ox. "

"Do you think he's dead?" asked the slattern girl, now thoroughlyalarmed at the consequences of the blow she had given. 

"Dead!" cried Haldane, catching the word, and, pushing all aside, heknelt over his prostrate foe. 

"Water, bring water, for God's sake!" he said eagerly, lifting up theunconscious man. 

It was brought and dashed in his face. A moment later, to Haldane'sinfinite relief he revived, and after a bewildered stare at the crowdaround him, fixed his eyes on the youth who had dealt the blow, and thena consciousness of all that had occurred seemed to return. He showed histeeth in impotent rage for a moment, as some wild animal might havedone, and then rose unsteadily to his feet. 

"Go back to your work, all on ye, " thundered the foreman, who, now thatthe sport was over, was bent on making a great show of his zeal; "as foryou two bull-dogs, you shall pay dearly for this; and let me say to you, Mister Haldane, that the pious dodge won't answer any longer. "

A moment later, with the exception of flushed faces and excitedwhisperings, the large and crowded apartment wore its ordinary aspect, and the machinery clanked on as monotonously as ever. 

Almost as mechanically Haldane moved in the routine of his labor, butthe bitterness of despair was in his heart. 

He forgot that he would probably be discharged that day; he forgot thata dark and uncertain future was before him. He only remembered his rageand profanity, and they seemed to him damning proofs that all he hadfelt, hoped, and believed was delusion. 

CHAPTER XLI

MRS. ARNOT'S CREED

When Haldane entered the cottage that evening his eyes were bloodshotand his face so haggard that Mr. Growther started out of his chair, exclaiming: "Lord a' massy! what's the matter?"

"Matter enough, " replied the youth, with a reckless oath. "The worstthat I feared has happened. "

"What's happened?" asked the old man excitedly. 

"I've been fighting in the work-room like a bull-dog, and swearing likea pirate. That's the kind of a Christian I am, and always will be. WhatI was made for, I don't see, " he added, as he threw himself into achair. 

"Well, well, well!" said Mr. Growther dejectedly, "I was in hopes she'dgit here in time; but I'm afeered you've just clean backslid. "

"No kind of doubt on that score, " replied the young man, with a bitterlaugh; "though I now think I never had very far to slide. And yet it allseems wrong and unjust. Why should my hopes be raised? why should suchfeelings be inspired, if this was to be the end? If I was foreordainedto go to the devil, why must an aggravating glimpse of heaven be givenme? I say it's all cruel and wrong. But what's the use! Come, let's havesupper, one must eat as long as he's in the body. "

It was a silent and dismal meal, and soon over. Then Haldane took hishat without a word. 

"Where are you goin'?" asked Mr. Growther, anxiously. 

"I neither know nor care. "

"Don't go out to-night, I expect somebody. "

"Who, in the name of wonder?"

"Mrs. Arnot. "

"I could as easily face an angel of light now as Mrs. Arnot, " hereplied, pausing on the threshold; for even in his reckless mood the oldman's wistful face had power to restrain. 

"You are mistaken, Egbert, " said a gentle voice behind him. "You canface me much more easily than an angel of light. I am human likeyourself, and your friend. "

She had approached the open door through the dusk of the mild autumnevening, and had heard his words. He trembled at her voice, but venturedno reply. 

"I have come to see you, Egbert; you will not leave me. "

"Mrs. Arnot, " he said passionately, "I am not worth the trouble you takein my behalf, and I might as well tell you at once that it is in vain. "

"I do not regard what I do for you as 'trouble, ' and I know it is not invain, " she replied, with calm, clear emphasis. 

Her manner quieted him somewhat; but after a moment he said:

"You do not know what has happened to-day, nor how I have been feelingfor many days past. "

"Your manner indicates how you. Feel; and you may tell me what hashappened if you wish. If you prefer that we should be alone, come withme to my carriage, and in the quiet of my private parlor you can tell meall. "

"No, " said Haldane gloomily; "I am not fit to enter your house, and forother reasons would rather not do so. I have no better friend than Mr. Growther, and he already knows it all. I may as well tell you here; thatis, if you are willing to stay. "

"I came to stay, " said Mrs. Arnot quietly; and sitting down, she turneda grave and expectant face toward him. 

"I cannot find words in which to tell you my shame, and the utterness ofmy defeat. "

"Yes, you can, Egbert. I believe that you have always told me the truthabout yourself. "

"I have, and I will again, " he said desperately; "and yet it seems likeprofanation to describe such a scene to you. " But he did describe it, briefly and graphically, nevertheless. As he spoke of his last fierceblow, which vanquished his opponent, Mr. Growther muttered:

"Sarved him right; can't help feelin' glad you hit 'im so hard; but thenthat's in keepin' with the cussedness of my natur'. "

A glimmer of a smile hovered around Mrs. Arnot's flexible mouth, but sheonly asked quietly:

"Is that all?"

"I should think that was enough, after all that I had felt andprofessed. "

"I fear I shall shock you, Egbert, but I am not very much surprised atyour course. Indeed I think it was quite natural, in view of thecircumstances. Perhaps my nature is akin to Mr. Growther's, for I amrather glad that fellow was punished; and I think it was very naturalfor you to punish him as you did. So far from despairing of you, I amthe more hopeful of you. "

"Mrs. Arnot!" exclaimed the youth in undisguised astonishment

"Now do not jump to hasty and false conclusions from my words; I do notsay that your action was right. In the abstract it was decidedly wrong, and for your language there is no other excuse save that an old, badhabit asserted itself at a time when you had lost self-control. I amdealing leniently with you, Egbert, because it is a trick of theadversary to tempt to despair as well as to over-confidence. At the sametime I speak sincerely. You are and have been for some time in a morbidstate of mind. Let my simple common-sense come to your aid in thisemergency. The very conditions under which you have been working at themill imposed a continuous strain upon your nervous power. You weresteadily approaching a point where mere human endurance would give way. Mark, I do not say that you might not have been helped to endure longer, and to endure everything; but mere human nature could not have enduredit much longer. It is often wiser to shun certain temptations, if wecan, than to meet them. You could not do this; and if, taking intoaccount all the circumstances, you could have tamely submitted to thisinsult, which was the culmination of long-continued and exasperatinginjury, I should have doubted whether you possessed the material to makea strong, forceful man. Of course, if you often give way to passion inthis manner, you would be little better than a wild beast; but for weeksyou had exercised very great forbearance and self-control--for one ofyour temperament, remarkable self-control--and I respect you for it. Weare as truly bound to be just to ourselves as to others. Your action wascertainly wrong, and I would be deeply grieved and disappointed if youcontinued to give way to such ebullitions of passion; but rememberingyour youth, and all that has happened since spring, and observingplainly that you are in an unhealthful condition of mind and body, Ithink your course was very natural indeed, and that you have no occasionfor such despondency. "

"Yes, " put in Mr. Growther; "and he went away without his breakfast, andit was mighty little he took for lunch; all men are savages when theyhaven't eaten anything. "

"Pardon me, Mrs. Arnot, " said Haldane gloomily, "all this does not meetthe case at all. I had been hoping that I was a Christian; what is more, it seems to me that I had had the feelings and experiences of aChristian. "

"I have nothing to say against that, " said the lady quietly; "I am veryglad that you had. "

"After what has occurred what right have I to think myself a Christian?"

"As good a right as multitudes of others. "

"Now, Mrs. Arnot, that seems to me to be contrary to reason. "

"It is not contrary to fact. Good people in the Bible, good people inhistory, and to my personal knowledge, too, have been left to dooutrageously wrong things. To err is human; and we are all very human, Egbert. "

"But I don't feel that I am a Christian any longer, " he said sadly. 

"Perhaps you are not, and never were. But this is a question that youcan never settle by consulting your own feelings. "

"Then how can I settle it?" was the eager response. 

"By settling fully and finally in your mind what relation you willsustain to Jesus Christ. He offers to be your complete Saviour from sin. Will you accept of him as such? He offers to be your divine and unerringguide and example in your everyday life. Will you accept of him as such?Doing these two things in simple honesty and to the best of our abilityis the only way to be a Christian that I know of. "

"Is that all?" muttered Mr. Growther, rising for a moment from his chairin his deep interest in her words. She gave him an encouraging smile, and then turned to Haldane again. 

"Mrs. Arnot, " he said, "I know that you are far wiser in these mattersthan I, and yet I am bewildered. The Bible says we must be converted;that we must be born again. It seems to require some great, mysteriouschange that shall renew our whole nature. And it seemed to me that Iexperienced that change. It would be impossible for me to describe toyou my emotions. They were sincere and profound. They stirred the verydepths of my soul, and under their influence it was a joy to worship Godand to do his will. Had I not a right to believe that the hour in whichI first felt those glad thrills of faith and love was the hour of myconversion?"

"You had a right to hope it. "

"But now, to-day, when every bad passion has been uppermost in my heart, what reason have I to hope?"

"None at all, looking to yourself and to your varying emotions. "

"Mrs. Arnot, I am bewildered. I am all at sea. The Bible, as interpretedby Dr. Barstow and Dr. Marks, seems to require so much; and what you sayis required is simplicity itself. "

"If you will listen patiently, Egbert, I will give you my views, and Ithink they are correct, for I endeavor to take them wholly from theBible. That which God requires is simplicity itself, and yet it is verymuch; it is infinite. In the first place, one must give upself-righteousness--not self-respect, mark you--but mere spiritualself-conceit, which is akin to the feeling of some vulgar people whothink they are good enough to associate with those who are immeasurablybeyond them, but whose superiority they are too small to comprehend. Wemust come to God in the spirit of a little child; and then, as if wewere children, he will give to us a natural and healthful growth in thelife that resembles his own. This is the simplest thing that can bedone, and all can do it; but how many are trying to work out theirsalvation by some intricate method of human device, and, stranger still, are very complacent over the mechanical and abnormal results! All suchfutile efforts, of which many are so vain, must be cast aside. Listen toChrist's own words: 'Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart. ' Hewho would enter upon the Christian life, must come to Christ as the truescientist sits at the feet of nature--docile, teachable, eager to learntruth that existed long before he was born, and not disposed to thrustforward some miserable little system of his own. Nothing could besimpler, easier, or more pleasing to Christ himself than the action ofMary as she sat at his feet and listened to him; but many are likeMartha, and are bustling about in his service in ways pleasing tothemselves; and it is very hard for them to give up their own way. I'vehad to give up a great deal in my time, and perhaps you will. 

"In addition to all trust in ourselves, in what we are and what we havedone, we must turn away from what we have felt; and here I think I touchyour present difficulties. We are not saved by the emotions of our ownhearts, however sacred and delightful they may seem. Nor do they alwaysindicate just what we are and shall be. A few weeks since you thoughtyour heart had become the abiding-place of all that was good; now, itseems to you to be possessed by evil. This is common experience; at onetime the Psalmist sings in rapturous devotion; again, he is wailing inpenitence over one of the blackest crimes in history. Peter is on theMount of Transfiguration; again he is denying his master with oaths andcurses. Even good men vary as widely as this; but Christ is 'the same, yesterday, to-day, and forever. ' By good men I mean simply those who aresincerely wishing and trying to obtain mastery over the evil of theirnatures. If you still wish to do this, I have abundant hope for you--asmuch hope as ever I had. "

"Of what value, then, were all those strange, happy feelings which Iregarded as the proofs of my conversion?" Haldane asked, with the lookof deep perplexity still upon his face. 

"Of very great value, if you look upon them in their true light. Theywere evidences of God's love and favor. They showed how kindly disposedhe is toward you. They can prove to you how abundantly able he is toreward all trust and service, giving foretastes of heavenly bliss evenin the midst of earthly warfare. The trouble has been with you, as withso many others, that you have been consulting your variable emotionsinstead of looking simply to Christ, the author and finisher of ourfaith. Besides, the power is not given to us to maintain an equable flowof feeling for any considerable length of time. We react from exaltationinto depression inevitably. Our feelings depend largely also uponearthly causes and our physical condition, and we can never beabsolutely sure how far they are the result of the direct action ofGod's Spirit upon our minds. It is God's plan to work through simple, natural means, so that we may not be looking and waiting for thesupernatural. And yet it would seem that many are so irrational that, when they find mere feeling passing away, they give up their hope andall relationship to Christ, acting as if the immutable love of God werechanging with their flickering emotions. "

"I have been just so irrational, " said Haldane in a low, deep tone. 

"Then settle it now and forever, my dear young friend, that JesusChrist, who died to save you, wishes to save you every day and all thedays of your life. He does not change a hair-breadth from the attitudeindicated in the words, 'Come unto me; and whosoever cometh unto me Iwill in no wise cast out. '"

"Do you mean to say he feels that way toward me all the time, in spiteof all my cantankerous moods?" asked Mr. Growther eagerly. 

"Most certainly. "

"I wouldn't a' thought it if I'd lived a thousand years. "

"What, then, is conversion?" asked Haldane, feeling as if he were beingled safely out of a labyrinth in which he had lost himself. 

"In my view it is simply turning away from everything to Christ as thesole ground of our salvation and as our divine guide and example inChristian living. "

"But how can we ever know that we are Christians?"

"Only by the honest, patient, continued effort to obey his briefcommand, 'Follow me. ' We may follow near, or we may follow afar off; butwe can soon learn whether we wish to get nearer to him, or to get awayfrom him, or to just indifferently let him drop out of our thoughts. TheChristian is one who holds and maintains certain simple relations toChrist. 'Ye are my friends, ' he said, not if you feel thus and so, but, 'if ye do whatsoever I command you;' and I have found from many years'experience that 'his commandments are not grievous. ' For every burden heimposes he gives help and comfort a hundred times. The more closely andfaithfully we follow him, the more surely do fear and doubt pass away. We learn to look up to him as a child looks in its mother's face, and'his Spirit beareth witness with our spirit that we are his. ' But thevital point is, are we following him? Feeling varies so widely andstrangely in varied circumstances and with different temperaments thatmany a true saint of God would be left in cruel uncertainty if this werethe test. My creed is a very simple one, Egbert; but I take a world ofcomfort in it. It contains only three words--Trust, follow Christ--that is all. "

"It is so simple and plain that I am tempted to take it as my creedalso, " said Haldane, with a tinge of hope and enthusiasm in his manner, "And yet remember, " warned his friend earnestly, "there is infiniterequirement in it. A child can make a rude sketch of a perfect statuethat will bear some faint resemblance to it. If he persevere he cangradually learn to draw the statue with increasing accuracy. In takingthis Divine Man as your example, you pledge yourself to imitate One whomyou can ever approach but never reach. And yet there is no occasion forthe weakest to falter before this infinite requirement, for God himselfin spirit is present everywhere to aid all in regaining the lost imageof himself. It is to no lonely unguided effort that I urge you, Egbert, but to a patient co-working with your Maker, that you may attain acharacter that will fit you to dwell at last in your kingly Father'shouse; and I tell you frankly, for your encouragement, that you arecapable of forming such a character. I will now bid you good-night, andleave you to think over what I have said. But write to me or come to mewhenever you wish. "

"Good-night, Mr. Growther; hate yourself if you will, but remember thatthe Bible assures us that 'God is love'; you cannot hate him. "

CHAPTER XLII

THE LEVER THAT MOVES THE WORLD

The power of truth can scarcely be overestimated, and the mind thatearnestly seeks it becomes noble in its noble quest. If this can be saidof truth in the abstract, and in its humbler manifestations, howomnipotent truth becomes in its grandest culmination and embodied in abeing capable of inspiring our profoundest fear and deepest love. Onemay accept of religious forms and philosophies, and be little changedthereby. One may be perfectly saturated with ecclesiasticism, and stillcontinue a small-natured man. But the man that accepts of Jesus Christas a personal and living teacher, as did the fishermen of Galilee, thatman begins to grow large and noble, brave and patient. 

Egbert Haldane has been sketched as an ordinary youth. There arethousands like him who have been warped and marred by early influences, but more seriously injured by a personal and wilful yielding to whateverform of evil proved attractive. The majority are not so unwary or sounfortunate as he was; but multitudes, for whom society hascomparatively little criticism, are more vitiated at heart, morecold-blooded and deliberate in their evil. One may form a basecharacter, but maintain an outward respectability; but let him not bevery complacent over the decorous and conventional veneer which maskshim from the world. If one imagines that he can corrupt his own soul andmake it the abiding-place of foul thoughts, mean impulses, andshrivelling selfishness, and yet go forward very far in God's universewithout meeting overwhelming disaster, he will find himself thoroughlymistaken. 

The sin of another man finds him out in swift sequence upon itscommittal, and such had been Haldane's experience. He had been taughtpromptly the nature of the harvest which evil produces inevitably. 

The terrible consequences of sin prevent and deter from it in manyinstances, but they have no very great reformatory power it would seem. Multitudes to-day are _in extremis_ from destroying vices, andrecognize the fact; but so far from reacting upward into virtue, evenafter vice (save in the intent of the heart) has ceased to be possible, there seems to be a moral inertia which nothing moves, or a reckless andincreasing impetus downward. 

It would appear that, in order to save the sinful, a strong, and yetgentle and loving, hand must be laid upon them. The stern grasp ofjustice, the grip of pain, law--human and divine--with its severepenalties, and conscience re-echoing its thunders, all lead too often todespondency, recklessness, and despair. It would be difficult to imaginea worse hell than vice often digs for its votaries, even in this world;and in spite of all human philosophies, and human wishes to thecontrary, it remains a fact that the guilty soul trembles at a worsehereafter, and yet no sufferings, no fears, no fate can so appall as toturn the soul from its infatuation with that which is destroying it. More potent than commands, threats, and their dire fulfilment, is love, which wins and entreats back to virtue the man whom even Omnipotencecould not drive back. 

In the flood God overwhelmed the sinful world in sudden destruction, butthe race continued sinning all the same. At last God came among men, andshared in their lot and nature. He taught them, he sympathized withthem, he loved them, he died for them, and when the wondrous story istold as it should be, the most reckless pause to listen, the mostcallous are touched, and those who would otherwise despair in theirguilt are led to believe that there is a heart large and tender enoughto pity and save even such as the world is ready to spurn into adishonored grave. 

The love of God as manifested in Christ of Nazareth is doing more forhumanity than all other influences combined. The best and noblestelements of our civilization can be traced either directly or indirectlyto him, and shadows brood heavily over both the lands and hearts thatneither know nor care for him. 

It would seem, then, that not the wrath of God, but his love, is mosteffective in separating men from the evil which would otherwise destroythem. God could best manifest this love by becoming a man "made likeunto his brethren"; for the love of God is ever best taught and bestunderstood, not as a doctrine, but when embodied in some large-heartedand Christlike person. 

Such a person most emphatically was Mrs. Arnot; and because of thesedivine characteristics her gentle, womanly hand became more potent tosave young Haldane than were all the powers of evil and the downwardimpetus of a bad life to destroy. 

How very many, like him, might be saved, were more women of tact andculture, large-hearted also and willing to give a part of their time tosuch noble uses!

By a personal and human ministry, the method that has ever been mosteffective in God's providence, Haldane was at last brought into close, intimate relations with the Divine Teacher himself. He was led to lookaway from his own fitful emotions and vague experiences to One who washis strong and unchanging friend. He was led to take as his daily guideand teacher the One who developed Peter the fisherman, Paul the bigot, Luther the ignorant monk, into what they eventually became, and it wasnot strange, therefore, that his crude, misshapen character shouldgradually assume the outlines of moral symmetry, and that strengthshould take the place of weakness. He commenced to learn by experiencethe truth which many never half believe, that God is as willing tolovingly fashion the spiritual life of some humble follower as he is toshape the destiny of those who are to be famous in the annals of thechurch and the world. 

To Haldane's surprise he was not discharged from his humble position inMr. Ivison's employ, and the explanation, which soon afterward appeared, gave him great encouragement. The man whom he had so severely punishedin his outburst of passion, vented his spite by giving to the _MorningCourier_ an exaggerated and distorted account of the affair, in whichthe youth was made to exchange places with himself, and appear as acoarse, quarrelsome bully. 

When Haldane's attention was called to the paragraph his face flushedwith indignation as he read it; but he threw the paper down and went tohis work without a word of comment. He had already about despaired ofanything like justice or friendly recognition from the public, and heturned from this additional wrong with a feeling not far removed fromindifference. He was learning the value of Mrs. Arnot's suggestion, thata consciousness of one's own integrity can do more to sustain than theworld's opinion, and her words on the previous evening had taught himhow a companionship, and eventually a character, might be won that couldcompensate him for all that he had lost or might suffer. 

His persecutor was, therefore, disappointed in seeing how littleannoyance his spite occasioned, nor was his equanimity increased by amessage from Mr. Ivison ordering his instant discharge. 

The following morning the foreman of the room in which Haldane workedcame to him with quite a show of friendliness, and said:

"It seems ye're in luck, for the boss takes an interest in ye. Readthat; I wouldn't a' thought it. "

Hope sprang up anew in the young man's breast as he read the followingwords:

EDITOR COURIER. --_Dear Sir:_ You will doubtless give space for thiscorrection in regard to the fracas which took place in my factory a dayor two since. You, with all right-minded men, surely desire that noinjustice should be done to any one in any circumstances. Very greatinjustice was done to young Haldane in your issue of to-day. I havetaken pains to inform myself accurately, and have learned that hepatiently submitted to a petty persecution for a long time, and at lastgave way to natural anger under a provocation such as no man of spiritcould endure. His tormentor, a coarse, ill-conditioned fellow, wasjustly punished, and I have discharged him from my employ. I havenothing to offer in extenuation of young Haldane's past faults, and, ifI remember correctly, the press of the city has always been fully assevere upon him as the occasion demanded. If any further space is givento his fortunes, justice at least, not to say a little encouragingkindness, should be accorded to him, as well as severity. It should bestated that for weeks he has been trying to earn an honest livelihood, and in a situation peculiarly trying to him I have been told that hesincerely wishes to reform and live a cleanly and decent life, and Ihave obtained evidence that satisfies me of the truth of this report. Itappears to me that it is as mean a thing for newspapers to strike a manwho is down, but who is endeavoring to rise again, as it is for anindividual to do so, and I am sure that you will not consciously permityour journal to give any such sinister blow. Respectfully yours, JohnIvison. 

In editorial comment came the following brief remark:

We gladly give Mr. Ivison's communication a prominent place. It is notour intention to "strike" any one, but merely to record each day'sevents as they come to us. With the best intentions mistakes aresometimes made. We have no possible motive for not wishing young Haldanewell--we do wish him success in achieving a better future than his pastactions have led us to expect. The city would be much better off if allof his class were equally ready to go to work. 

Here at least was some recognition. The fact that he was working, andwilling to work, had been plainly stated, and this fact is an essentialfoundation-stone in the building up of a reputation which the world willrespect. 

Although the discharge of the leading persecutor, and Mr. Ivison'sletter, did not add to Haldane's popularity at the mill, they led to hisbeing severely let alone at first, and an increasingly frank and affablemanner on the part of the young man, as he gained in patience andserenity, gradually disarmed those who were not vindictive and blindfrom prejudice. 

Poor Mrs. Haldane seemed destined to be her son's evil genius to theend. When people take a false view of life there seems a fatality in alltheir actions. The very fact that they are not in accord with what isright and true causes the most important steps of their lives to appearill-timed, injudicious, and unnatural. That they are well-meaning andsincere does not help matters much, if both tact and sound principlesare wanting. Mrs. Haldane belonged to the class that are sure thateverything is right which seems right to them. True, it was a queerlittle jumble of religious prejudices and conventional notions thatcombined to produce her conclusions; but when once they were reached, nomatter how absurd or defective they appeared to others, she had no moredoubt of them than of the Copernican system. 

Her motherly feelings had made her willing to take her son to somehiding-place in Europe; but since that could not be, and perhaps was notbest, she had thoroughly settled it in her mind that he should accept ofher offer and live at her expense the undemonstrative life of an oysterin the social and moral ooze of the obscurest mud-bank he could find. Inthis way the terrible world might be led to eventually leave off talkingand thinking of the Haldane family--a consummation that appeared to herworth any sacrifice. When the morning paper brought another vile story(copied from the Hillaton "Courier") of her son's misdoings, her adverseview of his plans and character was confirmed beyond the shadow of adoubt. She felt that there was a fatality about the place and itsassociations for him, and her one hope was to get him away. 

She cut the article from the paper and inclosed it to him with theaccompanying note:

"We go to New York this afternoon, and sail for Europe to-morrow. Yousend us in parting a characteristic souvenir, which I return to you. Thescenes and associations indicated in this disgraceful paragraph seemmore to your taste than those which your family have hitherto enjoyed astheir right for many generations. While this remains true, you, ofnecessity, cut yourself off from your kindred, and we, who are mostclosely connected, must remain where our names cannot be associated withyours. I still cherish the hope, however, that you may find the way ofthe transgressor so hard that you will be brought by your bitterexperience to accept of my offer and give the world a chance to forgetyour folly and wickedness. When you will do this in good faith (and mylawyer will see that it is done in good faith), you may draw on him forthe means of a comfortable support. In bitter shame and sorrow, yourmother, "EMILY HALDANE. "

This letter was a severe blow to her son, for it contained the lastwords of the mother that he might not see for years. While he felt it tobe cruelly unjust to him and his present aims, he was calm enough now tosee that the distorted paragraph which led to it fitted in only too wellwith the past, and so had the coloring of truth. When inclined to blamehis mother for not waiting for his versions of these miserable eventsand accepting of them alone, he was compelled to remember that she wasin part awakened from her blind idolatry of him by the discovery of hisefforts to deceive her in regard to his increasing dissipation. Evenbefore he had entered Mr. Arnot's counting-room he had taught her todoubt his word, and now she had evidently lost confidence in himutterly. He foresaw that this confidence could be regained only by yearsof patient well-doing, and that she might incline to believe in him moreslowly even than comparative strangers. But he was not disposed to bevery angry and resentful, for he now had but little confidence inhimself. He had been led, however, by his bitter experience and by Mrs. Arnot's faithful ministry to adopt that lady's brief but comprehensivecreed, He was learning to trust in Christ as an all-powerful andpersonal friend; he was daily seeking to grasp the principles whichChrist taught, but more clearly acted out, and which are essential tothe formation of a noble character. He had thus complied with the bestconditions of spiritual growth; and the crude elements of his character, which had been rendered more chaotic by evil, slowly began to shapethemselves into the symmetry of a true man. 

In regard to his mother's letter, all that he could do was to inclose toher, with the request that it be forwarded, Mr. Ivison's defence of him, which appeared in the "Courier" of the following morning. 

"You perceive, " he wrote, "that a stranger has taken pains to informhimself correctly in regard to the facts of the case, and that he hasfor me some charity and hope. I do not excuse the wrong of my action onthat occasion or on any other, but I do wish, and I am trying, to dobetter, and I hope to prove the same to you by years of patient effort. I may fail miserably, however, as you evidently believe. The fact thatmy folly and wickedness have driven you and my sisters into exile, is avery great sorrow to me, but compliance with your request that I shouldleave Hillaton and go into hiding would bring no remedy at all. I knowthat I should do worse anywhere else, and my self-respect and conscienceboth require that I should fight the battle of my life out here where Ihave suffered such disgraceful defeat. "

CHAPTER XLIII

MR. GROWTHER "STUMPED"

About three weeks after the occasion upon which Haldane's human naturehad manifested itself in such a disastrous manner as he had supposed, Mrs. Arnot, Dr. Barstow, and Mr. Ivison happened to find themselvestogether at an evening company. 

"I have been wishing to thank you, Mr. Ivison, " said the lady, "for yourjust and manly letter in regard to young Haldane. I think it encouragedhim very much, and has given him more hopefulness in his work. How hashe been doing of late? The only reply he makes to my questioning is, 'Iam plodding on. '"

"Do you know, " said Mr. Ivison, "I am beginning to take quite aninterest in that young fellow. He has genuine pluck. You cannotunderstand, Mrs. Arnot, what an ordeal he has passed through. He isnaturally as mettlesome as a young colt, and yet day after day he wassubjected to words and actions that were to him like the cut of a whip. "

"Mr. Ivison, " said Mrs. Arnot, with a sudden moisture coming into hereyes, "I have long felt the deepest interest in this young man. Injudging any one I try to consider not only what he does, but all thecircumstances attending upon his action. Knowing Haldane's antecedents, and how peculiarly unfitted he was by early life and training for hispresent trials, I think his course since he was last released fromprison has been very brave, " and she gave a brief sketch of his life andmental states, as far as a delicate regard for his feelings permitted, from that date. 

Dr. Barstow, in his turn, also became interested in the youth, not onlyfor his own sake, but also in the workings of his mind and his spiritualexperiences. It was the good doctor's tendency to analyze everything andplace all psychological manifestations under their proper theologicalheads. 

"I feel that I indirectly owe this youth a large debt of gratitude, since his coming to our church and his repulse, in the first instance, has led to decided changes for the better in us all, I trust. But hisexperience, as you have related it, raises some perplexing questions. Doyou think he is a Christian?"

"I do not know. I think he is, " replied Mrs. Arnot. 

"When do you think he became a Christian?"

"Still less can I answer that question definitely. "

"But would not one naturally think it was when he was conscious of thathappy change in the study of good old Dr. Marks?"

"Poor Haldane has been conscious of many changes and experiences, but Ido not despise or make light of any of them. It is certainly sensible tobelieve that every effect has a cause; and for one I believe that thesestrange, mystical, and often rich and rapturous experiences, are largelyand perhaps wholly caused in many instances by the direct action ofGod's Spirit on the human spirit. Again, it would seem that men'sreligious natures are profoundly stirred by human and earthly causes, for the emotion ceases with the cause. It appears to me that if peoplewould only learn to look at these experiences in a sensible way, theywould be the better and wiser for them. We are thus taught what a grandinstrument the soul is, and of what divine harmonies and profoundemotions it is capable when played upon by any adequate power. To expectto maintain this exaltation with our present nature is like requiring ofthe athlete that he never relax his muscles, or of the prima donna thatshe never cease the exquisite trill which is but the momentary proof ofwhat her present organization is capable. And yet it would appear thatmany, like poor Haldane, are tempted on one hand to entertain noChristian hope because they cannot produce these deep and happyemotions; or, on the other hand, to give up Christian hope because theseemotions cease in the inevitable reaction that follows them. In myopinion it is when we accept of Christ as Saviour and Guide we becomeChristians, and a Christian life is the maintenance of this simple yetvital relationship. We thus continue branches of the 'true vine. ' Ithink Haldane has formed this relationship. "

"It would seem from your account that he had formed it, consciously, buta very brief time since, " said Dr. Barlow, "and yet for weeks previoushe had been putting forth what closely resembles Christian effort, exercising Christian forbearance, and for a time at least enjoying happyspiritual experiences. Can you believe that all this is possible to onewho is yet dead in trespasses and sins?"

"My dear Dr. Barstow, I cannot apply your systematic theology to all ofGod's creatures any more than I could apply a rigid and carefullylined-out system of parental affection and government to your household. I know that you love all of your children, both when they are good andwhen they are bad, and that you are ever trying to help the naughty onesto be better. I am inclined to think that I could learn more soundtheology on these points in your nursery and dining-room than in yourstudy. I am sure, however, that God does not wait till his littlebewildered children reach a certain theological mile-stone beforereaching out his hand to guide and help them. "

"You are both better theologians than I am, " said Mr. Ivison, "and Ishall not enter the lists with you on that ground; but I know whatmill-life is to one of his caste and feeling, and his taking such work, and his sticking to it under the circumstances, is an exhibition of morepluck than most young men possess. And yet it was his only chance, forwhen people get down as low as he was they must take any honest work inorder to obtain a foothold. Even now, burdened as he is by an evil name, it is difficult to see how he can rise any higher. "

"Could you not give him a clerkship?" asked Mrs. Arnot. 

"No, I could not introduce him among my other clerks. They would resentit as an insult. "

"You could do this, " said Mrs. Arnot with a slight flush, "but I do noturge it or even ask it. You are in a position to show great and generouskindness toward this young man. As he who was highest stooped to thelowliest, so those high in station and influence can often stoop to thehumble and fallen with a better grace than those hearer to them in rank. If you believe this young man is now trustworthy, and that trusting himwould make him still more so, you could give him a desk in your privateoffice, and thus teach your clerks a larger charity. The influential andassured in position must often take the lead in these matters. "

Mr. Ivison thought a moment, and then said: "Your proposition isunusual, Mrs. Arnot, but I'll think of it. I make no promises, however. "

"Mr. Ivison, " added Mrs. Arnot, in her smiling, happy way, "I hope youmay make a great deal of money out of your business this year; but if, by means of it, you can also aid in making a good and true man, you willbe still better off. Dr. Barstow here can tell you how sure suchinvestments are. "

"If I should follow your lead and that of Dr. Barstow, all my realestate would be in the 'Celestial City, '" laughed Mr. Ivison. "But Ihave a special admiration for the grace of clear grit, and this youngfellow, in declining his mother's offer and trying to stand on his feethere in Hillaton, where every one is ready to tread him down, showspluck, whatever else is wanting. I've had my eye on him for some time, and I'm about satisfied he's trying to do right. But it is difficult toknow what to do for one with his ugly reputation. I will see what can bedone, however. "

That same evening chilly autumn winds were blowing without, and Mr. Growther's passion for a wood fire upon the hearth was an indulgence towhich Haldane no longer objected. The frugal supper was over, and thetwo oddly diverse occupants of the quaint old kitchen glowered at thered coals in silence, each busy with his own thoughts. At last Haldanegave a long deep sigh, which drew to him at once Mr. Growther's smalltwinkling eyes. 

"Tough old world, isn't it, for sinners like us?" he remarked. 

"Well, Mr. Growther, I've got rather tired of inveighing against theworld; I'm coming to think that the trouble is largely with myself. "

"Umph!" snarled the old man, "I've allers knowed the trouble was withme, for of all crabbed, cranky, cantankerous, old--"

"Hold on, " cried Haldane, laughing, "don't you remember what Mrs. Arnotsaid about being unjust to one's self? The only person that I have everknown you to wrong is Jeremiah Growther, and it seems to me that you dotreat him outrageously sometimes. "

At the name of Mrs. Arnot the old man's face softened, and he rubbed hishands together as he chuckled, "How Satan must hate that woman!"

"I was in hopes that her words might lead you to be a little juster toyourself, " continued Haldane, "and it has seemed to me that you, as wellas I, have been in a better mood of late. "

"I don't take no stock in myself at all, " said Mr. Growtheremphatically. "I'm a crooked stick and allers will be--a reg'lar oldgnarled knotty stick, with not 'nuff good timber in it to make a pennywhistle. That I haven't been in as cussin' a state as usual isn'tbecause I think any better of myself, but your Mrs. Arnot has set mea-thinkin' on a new track. She come to see me one day while you was atthe mill, and we had a real speret'al tussel. I argufied my case in sucha way that she couldn't git round it, and I proved to her that I was thedriest and crookedest old stick that ever the devil twisted out o' shapewhen it was a-growin'. On a suddent she turned the argerment agin me ina way that has stumped me ever since. 'You are right, Mr. Growther, ' shesaid, 'it was the devil and not the Lord that twisted you out of shape. Now who's the stronger, ' she says, 'and who's goin' to have his own wayin the end? Suppose you are very crooked, won't the Lord get all themore glory in making you straight, and won't his victory be all thegreater over the evil one?' Says I, 'Mrs. Arnot, that's puttin' my casein a new light. If I should be straightened out, it would be theawfulest set-back Old Nick ever had; and if such a thing should happenhe'd never feel sure of any one after that. ' Then she turned on mekinder sharp, and says she, 'What right have you to say that God isallers lookin' round for easy work? What would you think of a doctor whowould take only slight cases, and have nothing to do with people whowere gittin' dangerous-like? Isn't Jesus Christ the great physician, anddon't your common-sense tell you that he is jist as able to cure you asa little child?'

"I declare I was stumped. Like that ill-mannered cuss in the Scripterwho thought his old clothes good enough for the weddin', I wasspeechless. 

"But I got a worse knock down than that. Says she, 'Mr. Growther, I willnot dispute all the hard things you have said of yourself (you see I hadbeat her on that line of argerment); I won't dispute all that you say(and I felt a little sot up agin, for I didn't know what she wasa-drivin' at), but, ' says she, 'I think you've got some naturalfeelin's. Suppose you had a little son, and while he was out in thestreet a wicked man should carry him off and treat him so cruelly that, instead of growin' to be strong and fine-lookin', he should become apuny, deformed little critter. Suppose at last you should hear where hewas, and that he was longin' to escape from the cruel bands of his harshmaster, who kept on a-treatin' of him worse and worse, would you, hisfather, go and coolly look at him and say, "If you was only a handsomeboy, with a strong mind in a strong body, I'd deliver you out of thistyrant's clutches and take you back to be my son again; but since youare a poor, weak, deformed little critter, that can never do much, or bemuch, I'll leave you here to be abused and tormented as before"--isthat what you would do, Mr. Growther?'

"Well, she spoke it all so earnest and real-like that I got off myguard, and I jist riz right up from my cheer, and I got hold of my heavyold cane there, and it seemed as if my hair stood right up on end, I wasthat mad at the old curmudgeon that had my boy, and I half shouts, 'No!that ain't what I'd do, I'd go for that cuss that stole my boy, and forevery blow he'd given the little chap, I'd give him a hundred. '

"'But what would you do with the poor little boy?' she asks. At that Ibegan to choke, my feelin's was so stirred up, and moppin' my eyes, Isaid, 'Poor little chap, all beaten and abused out o' shape! What wouldI do with him? Why, I couldn't do 'nuff for him in tryn' to make himforget all the hard times he'd had. ' Then says she, 'You would twit thechild with bein' weak, puny, and deformed, would you?' I was nowhobblin' up and down the room in a great state of excitement, and saysI, 'Mrs. Arnot, mean a man as I am, I wouldn't treat any human critterso, let alone my own flesh and blood, that had been so abused that itmakes my heart ache to think on't. '

"'Don't you think you would love the boy a little even though he had ahump on his back and his features were thin and sharp and pale?' 'Mrs. Arnot, ' says I, moppin' my eyes agin, 'if you say another word about thelittle chap I shall be struck all of a heap, fur my heart jist kinder--kinder pains like a toothache to do somethin' for him. ' Then all of asuddent she turns on me sharp agin, and says she, 'I think you are avery inconsistent man, Mr. Growther. You have been runnin' yourselfdown, and yet you claim to be better than your Maker. He calls himselfour Heavenly Father, and yet you are sure that you have a kinder andmore fatherly heart than he. You are one of his little, weak, deformedchildren, twisted all out of shape, as you have described, by his enemyand yours, and yet you the same as say that you would act a great dealmore like a true father toward your child than he will toward his. Youvirtually say that you would rescue your child and be pitiful and tendertoward him, but that your Heavenly Father will leave you in the clutchesof the cruel enemy, or exact conditions that you cannot comply withbefore doing anything for you. Haven't you read in the Bible that "Likeas a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fearhim"? You think very meanly of yourself, but you appear to think moremeanly of God. Where is your warrant for doing so?'

"The truth bust in on me like the sunlight into this old kitchen when weopen the shutters of a summer mornin'. I saw that I was so completelyfloored in the argerment, and had made such a blasted old fool of myselfall these years, that I just looked around for a knot-hole to crawlinto. I didn't know which way to look, but at last I looked at her, andmy withered old heart gave a great thump when I saw two tears a-standin'in her eyes. Then she jumps up and gives me that warm hand o' her'n andsays: 'Mr. Growther, whenever you wish to know how God feels toward you, think how you felt toward that little chap that was abused and beatenall out o' shape, ' and she was gone. Well, the upshot of it all is thatI don't think a bit better of myself--not one bit--but that weaklylittle chap, with a peaked face and a hump on his back, that Mrs. Arnotmade so real-like that I see him a-lookin' at me out of the cheer therehalf the time--he's a makin' me better acquainted with the Lord, for theLord knows I've got a hump on my back and humps all over; but I keepa-sayin' to myself, 'Like as a father pitieth his children, ' and I don'tfeel near as much like cussin' as I used to. That little chap that Mrs. Arnot described is doin' me a sight o' good, and if I could find somepoor little critter just like him, with no one to look after him, I'dtake him in and do for him in a minit. "

"Mr. Growther, " said Haldane, huskily, "you have found that poormisshapen, dwarfed creature that I fear will never attain theproportions of a true man. Of course you see through Mrs. Arnot'simagery. In befriending me you are caring for one who is weak and punyindeed. "

"Oh, you won't answer, " said Mr. Growther with a laugh. "I can see thatyour humps is growin' wisibly less every day, and you're too big andbroad-shouldered for me to be a pettin' and a yearnin' over. I want jestsuch a peaked little chap as Mrs. Arnot pictured out, and that's doin'me such a sight o' good. "

Again the two occupants of the old kitchen gazed at the fire for a longtime in silence, and again there came from the young man the samelong-drawn sigh that had attracted Mr. Growther's attention before. 

"That's the second time, " he remarked. 

"I was thinking, " said Haldane, rising to retire, "whether I shall everhave better work than this odious routine at the mill. "

Mr. Growther pondered over the question a few minutes, and then saidsententiously: "I'm inclined to think the Lord gives us as good work aswe're cap'ble of doin'. He'll promote you when you've growed a littlemore. "

CHAPTER XLIV

GROWTH

The next morning Haldane received a message directing him to report atMr. Ivison's private office during the noon recess. 

"Be seated, " said that gentleman as the young man, wearing an anxiousand somewhat surprised expression, entered hesitatingly and diffidently. "You need not look so troubled, I have not sent for you to findfault--quite the reverse. You have 'a friend at court, ' as the sayinggoes. Not that you needed one particularly, for I have had my eye uponyou myself, and for some days past have been inclined to give you alift. But last evening Mrs. Arnot spoke in your behalf, and through herwords I have been led to take the following step. For reasons thatperhaps you can understand, it would be difficult for me to give you adesk among my other clerks. I am not so sensitive, now that I know yourbetter aims, and it is my wish that you take that desk there, in this, my private office. Your duties will be very miscellaneous. Sometimes Ishall employ you as my errand-boy, again I may intrust you withimportant and confidential business. I stipulate that you perform thehumblest task as readily as any other. "

Haldane's face flushed with pleasure, and he said warmly, "I am not in aposition, sir, to consider any honest work beneath me, and after yourkindness I shall regard any service I can render you as a privilege. "

"A neat answer, " laughed Mr. Ivison. "If you do your work as well Ishall be satisfied. Pluck and good sense will make a man of you yet. Iwant you to understand distinctly that it has been your readiness anddetermination, not only to work, but to do any kind of work, that haswon my good-will. Here's a check for a month's salary in advance. Behere to-morrow at nine, dressed suitably for your new position. Good-morning. "

"Halloo! What's happened?" asked Mr. Growther as Haldane came in thatevening with face aglow with gladness and excitement. 

"According to your theory I've been promoted sure, " laughed the youth, and he related the unexpected event of the day. 

"That's jest like Mrs. Arnot, " said Mr. Growther, rubbing his hands ashe ever did when pleased; "she's allers givin' some poor critter aboost. T'other day 'twas me, now agin it's you, and they say she'shelpin' lots more along. St. Peter will have to open the gate wide whenshe comes in with her crowd. 'Pears to me sometimes that I can fairlyhear Satan a-gnashin' of his teeth over that woman. She's the wust enemyhe has in town. "

"I wish I might show her how grateful I am some day, " said Haldane, withmoistened eyes; "but I clearly foresee that I can never repay her. "

"No matter if you can't, " replied the old man. "She don't want any pay. It's her natur' to do these things. "

Haldane gave his whole mind to the mastery of his new duties, and aftera few natural blunders speedily acquired a facility in the diverse tasksallotted him. In a manner that was perfectly unobtrusive and respectfulhe watched his employer, studied his methods and habit of mind, and thusgained the power of anticipating his wishes. Mr. Ivison began to findhis office and papers kept in just the order he liked, the temperaturemaintained at a pleasant medium, and to receive many little namelessattentions that added to his comfort and reduced the wear and tear oflife to a hurried business-man; and when in emergencies Haldane wasgiven tasks that required brains, he proved that he possessed a fairshare of them. 

After quite a lapse of time Mr. Ivison again happened to meet Mrs. Arnot, and he said to her:

"Haldane thinks you did him a great kindness in suggesting our presentarrangement; but I am inclined to think you did me a greater, for youhave no idea how useful the young fellow is making himself to me. "

"Then you will have to find a new object of benevolence, " answered thelady, "or you will have all your reward in this world. "

"There it is again, " said Mr. Ivison, with his hearty laugh, "you andDr. Barstow give a man no peace. I'm going to take breath before Istrike in again. "

In his new employment, Haldane, from the first, had found considerableleisure on his hands, and after a little thought decided to reviewcarefully the studies over which he had passed so superficially in hisstudent days. 

Mr. Growther persisted in occupying the kitchen, leaving what had beendesigned as the parlor or sitting-room of his cottage to dust and damp. With his permission the young man fitted this up as a study, and boughta few popular works on science, as the nucleus of a library. Aftersupper he read the evening paper to Mr. Growther, who soon fell into adoze, and then Haldane would steal away to his own quarters and pursuewith zest, until a late hour, some study that had once seemed to himutterly dry and unattractive. 

Thus the months glided rapidly and serenely away, and he was positivelyhappy in a mode of life that he once would have characterized asodiously humdrum. The terrible world, whose favor had formerly seemedessential, and its scorn unendurable, was almost forgotten; and as hecontinued at his duties so steadily and unobtrusively the hostile worldbegan to unbend gradually its frowning aspect toward him. Those whom hedaily met in business commenced with a nod of recognition, andeventually ended with a pleasant word. At church an increasing numberbegan to speak to him, not merely as a Christian duty, but because theyoung man's sincere and earnest manner interested them and inspiredrespect. 

The fact that he recognized that he was under a cloud and did not try toattract attention, worked in his favor. He never asked the alms of akindly word or glance, by looking appealingly to one and another. Itbecame his habit to walk with his eyes downcast, not speaking to norlooking toward any one unless first addressed. At the same time hisbearing was manly and erect, and marked by a certain quiet dignity whichinevitably characterizes all who are honestly trying to do right. 

Because he asked so little of society it was the more disposed to give, and from a point of bare toleration it passed on to a willingness topatronize with a faint encouraging smile. And yet it was the generalfeeling that one whose name had been so sadly besmirched must be kept atmore than arm's-length. 

"He may get to heaven, " said an old lady who was remarking upon hisregular attendance at church, "but he can never hope to be received ingood society again. "

In the meantime the isolated youth was finding such an increasing charmin the companionship of the gifted minds who spoke to him from theprinted pages of his little library that he felt the deprivation lessand less. 

But an hour with Mrs. Arnot was one of his chief pleasures, to which helooked forward with glad anticipation. For a long time he could notbring himself to go to her house or to take the risk of meeting any ofher other guests, and in order to overcome his reluctance sheoccasionally set apart an evening for him alone and was "engaged" to allothers. These were blessed hours to the lonely young fellow, and theirmemory made him stronger and more hopeful for days thereafter. 

In his Christian experience he was gaining a quiet serenity andconfidence. He had fully settled it in his mind, as Mrs. Arnot hadsuggested, that Jesus Christ was both willing and able to save him, andhe simply trusted and tried to follow. 

"Come, " said that lady to him one evening, "it's time you found a nookin the vineyard and went to work. "

He shook his head emphatically as he replied, "I do not feel myselfeither competent or worthy. Besides, who would listen to me?"

"Many might with profit. You can carry messages from Mr. Ivison, can younot take a message from your Divine Master? I have thought it all over, and can tell you where you will be listened to at least, and where youmay do much good. I went, last Sunday, to the same prison in which Ivisited you. And I read to the inmates. It would be a moral triumph foryou, Egbert, to go back there as a Christian man and with the honestpurpose of doing good. It would be very pleasant for me to think of youat work there every Sabbath. Make the attempt, to please me, if for nobetter reason. "

"That settles the question, Mrs. Arnot, " said Haldane, with a troubledsmile. "I would try to preach in Choctaw, if you requested it, and Ifear all that I can say 'out o' my own head, ' as Mr. Growther would putit, will be worse than Choctaw. But I can at least read to theprisoners; that is, " he added, with downcast eyes and a flush of his oldshame, "if they will listen to me, which I much doubt. You, with yourlarge generous sympathies, can never understand how greatly I amdespised, even by my own class. "

"Please remember that I am of your class now, for you are of thehousehold of faith. I know what you mean, Egbert. I am glad that you areso diffident and so little inclined to ask on the ground of yourChristian profession that the past be overlooked. If there is one thingthat disgusts me more than another it is the disposition to make one'sreligion a stepping-stone to earthly objects and the means of forcingupon others a familiarity or a relationship that is offensive to them. Icannot help doubting a profession of faith that is put to such low uses. I know that you have special reason for humility, but you must not letit develop into timidity. All I ask is that you read to such poorcreatures in the prison as will listen to you a chapter in the Bible, and explain it as well as you can, and then read something else that youthink will interest them. "

Haldane made the attempt, and met, at first, as he feared, with butindifferent success. Even criminals looked at him askance as he came inthe guise of a religious teacher. But his manner was so unassuming, andthe spirit "I am better than thou" was so conspicuously absent, that afew were disarmed, and partly out of curiosity, and partly to kill thetime that passed so slowly, they gathered at his invitation. He sat downamong them as if one of them, and in a voice that trembled withdiffidence read a chapter from the gospels. Since he "put on no airs, "as they said, one and another drew near until all the inmates of thejail were grouped around him. Having finished the chapter, Haldaneclosed the Bible and said:

"I do not feel competent to explain this chapter. Perhaps many of youunderstand it better than I do. I did not even feel that I was worthy tocome here and read the chapter to you, but the Christian lady whovisited you last Sunday asked me to come, and I would do anything forher. She visited me when I was a prisoner like you, and through herinfluence I am trying to be a better man. I know, my friends, from sadexperience, that when we get down under men's feet, and are sent toplaces like these, we lose heart and hope; we feel that there is nochance for us to get up again, we are tempted to be despairing andreckless; but through the kindness and mercy of that good lady, Mrs. Arnot, I learned of a kindness and mercy greater even than hers. Theworld may hate us, scorn us, and even trample us down, and if we will behonest with ourselves we must admit that we have given it some reason todo all this--at least I feel that I have--but the world can't keep usdown, and what is far worse than the world, the evil in our own heartscan't keep us down, if we ask Jesus Christ to help us up. I am findingthis out by experience, and so know the truth of what I am saying. ThisBible tells us about this strong, merciful One, this Friend of publicansand sinners, and if you would like me to come here Sunday afternoons andread about him, I will do so very gladly, but I don't wish to forcemyself upon you if I'm not wanted. "

"Come, my hearty, come every time, " said an old sailor, with aresounding oath. "Tain't likely I'll ever ship with your captain, forsech as I've come to be couldn't pass muster. Howsumever, it's kind o'comfortin' to hear one talk as if there was plenty of sea-room, evenwhen a chap knows he's drivin' straight on the rocks. "

"Come, oh, come again, " entreated the tremulous voice of one who wascrouching a little back of his chair. 

Haldane turned, and with a start recognized the fair young girl, whoseblue eyes and Madonna-like face had, for a moment, even in the agony ofhis own shame, secured his attention while in the police court, morethan a year before. She was terribly changed, and yet by that strangeprinciple by which we keep our identity through all mutations, Haldaneknew that she was the same, and felt that by a glance he could almosttrace back her life through its awful descent to the time when she was abeautiful and innocent girl. As a swift dark tide might sweep a summerpinnace from its moorings, and dash it on the rocks until it became acrushed and shapeless thing, so passion or most untoward circumstanceshad suddenly drawn this poor young creature among coarse, destructivevices that had shattered the delicate, womanly nature in one short yearinto utter wreck. 

"Come again, " she whispered in response to Haldane's glance; "come soon, or else I shall be in my grave, and I've got the awful fear that it isthe mouth of the bottomless pit. Otherwise I'd be glad to be in it. "

"Poor child!" said Haldane, tears coming into his eyes. 

"Ah!" she gasped, "will God pity me like that?"

"Yes, for the Bible says, 'The Lord is very pitiful and of tendermercy, ' My own despairing thoughts have taught me to look for all ofGod's promises. "

"You know nothing of the depths into which I have fallen, " she said in alow tone; "I can see that in your face. "

Again Haldane ejaculated, "Poor child!" with a heartfelt emphasis thatdid more good than the longest homily. Then finding the Bible storywhich commences, "And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, "he turned a leaf down saying:

"I am neither wise enough nor good enough to guide you, but I know thatMrs. Arnot will come and see you. I shall leave my Bible with you, and, until she comes, read where I have marked. "

Mrs. Arnot did come, and the pure, high-born woman shut the door of thenarrow cell, and taking the head of her fallen sister into her lap, listened with responsive tears to the piteous story, as it was told withsighs, sobs, and strong writhings of anguish. 

As the girl became calmer and her mind emerged from the chaos of hertempestuous and despairing sorrow, Mrs. Arnot led her, as it were, tothe very feet of Jesus of Nazareth, and left her there with these words:

"He came to seek and save just such as you are--the lost. He is reachingdown his rescuing hand of love to you, and when you grasp it in simpleconfiding trust you are saved. "

Before the week closed, the poor creature forever turned her face awayfrom the world in which she had so deeply sinned and suffered: butbefore she departed on the long journey, he who alone can grant to thehuman soul full absolution, had said to her, "Thy sins are forgiven; goin peace. "

As Mrs. Arnot held her dying head she whispered, "Tell him that it washis tears of honest sympathy that first gave me hope. "

That message had a vital influence over Haldane's subsequent life. Indeed these words of the poor dying waif were potent enough to shapeall his future career. He was taught by them the magnetic power ofsympathy, and that he who in the depths of his heart feels for hisfellow-creatures, can help them. He had once hoped that he would dazzlemen's eyes by the brilliancy of his career, but he had long sinceconcluded that he must plod along the lowly paths of life. Until hisvisit to the prison and its results the thought had scarcely occurred tohim that he could help others. He had felt that he had been too sorelywounded himself ever to be more than an invalid in the world's hospital;but he now began to learn that his very sin and suffering enabled him toapproach nearer to those who were, as he was once, on the brink ofdespair or in the apathy of utter discouragement, and to aid them moreeffectively because of his kindred experience. 

The truth that he, in the humblest possible way, could engage in thenoble work for which he revered Mrs. Arnot, came like a burst ofsunlight into his shadowed life, and his visits to the prison werelooked forward to with increasing zest. 

From reading the chapter merely he came to venture on a few comments. Then questions were asked, and he tried to answer some, and frankly saidhe could not answer others. But these questions stimulated his mind andled to thought and wider reading. To his own agreeable surprise, as wellas that of his prison class, he occasionally was able to bring, on thefollowing Sabbath, a very satisfactory answer to some of the questions;and this suggested the truth that all questions could be answered ifonly time and wisdom enough could be brought to bear upon them. 

He gradually acquired a facility in expressing his thoughts, and, betterstill, he had thoughts to express. Some of the prisoners, who were indurance but for a brief time, asked him to take a class in theGuy-Street Mission Chapel. 

"They will scarcely want me there as a teacher, " he said with a slightflush. 

But the superintendent and pastor, after some hesitation and inquiry, concluded they did want him there, and with some ex-prisoners as anucleus, he unobtrusively formed a class near the door. The two markedcharacteristics of his Christian efforts--downright sincerity andsympathy--were like strong, far-reaching hands, and his class began togrow until it swamped the small neighboring classes with uncouth andunkempt-looking creatures that were drawn by the voice that assertedtheir manhood and womanhood in spite of their degradation. Finally, before another year ended, a large side-room was set apart for Haldaneand his strange following, and he made every one that entered it, nomatter how debased, believe that there were possibilities of good inthem yet, and he was able to impart this encouraging truth because he sothoroughly believed it himself. 

As he stood before that throng of publicans and sinners, gathered fromthe slums of the city, and, with his fine face lighted up with thoughtand sympathy, spoke to them the truth in such a way that they understoodit and felt its power, one could scarcely have believed that but twoyears before he had been dragged from a drunken brawl to the commonjail. The explanation is simple--he had followed closely that samedivine Master who had taught the fishermen of Galilee. 

CHAPTER XLV

LAURA ROMEYN

Mrs. Haldane and her daughters found European life so decidedly to theirtaste that it was doubtful whether they would return for several years. The son wrote regularly to his mother, for he had accepted of the truthof Mrs. Arnot's words that nothing could excuse him from the sacredduties which he owed to her. As his fortunes improved and time elapsedwithout the advent of more disgraceful stories, she also began torespond as frequently and sympathetically as could be expected of onetaking her views of life. She was at last brought to acquiesce in hisplan of remaining at Hillaton, if not to approve of it, and afterreceiving one or two letters from Mrs. Arnot, she was inclined tobelieve in the sincerity of his Christian profession. She began to sharein the old lady's view already referred to, that he might reach heavenat last, but could never be received in good society again. 

"Egbert is so different from us, my dears, " she would sigh to herdaughters, "that I suppose we should not judge him by our standards. Isuppose he is doing as well as he ever will--as well indeed as hissingularly unnatural disposition permits. "

It did not occur to the lady that she was a trifle unnatural andunchristian herself in permitting jealousy to creep into her heart, because Mrs. Arnot had wielded a power for good over her son which sheherself had failed to exert. 

She instructed her lawyer, however, to pay to him an annuity that wasfar beyond his needs in his present frugal way of living. 

This ample income enabled him at once to carry out a cherished purpose, which had been forming in his mind for several months, and which he nowbroached to Mrs. Arnot. 

"For the last half year, " he said, "I have thought a great deal over thepossibilities that life offers to one situated as I am. I have tried todiscover where I can make my life-work, maimed and defective as it evermust be, most effective, and it has seemed to me that I could accomplishmore as a physician than in any other calling. In this character I couldnaturally gain access to those who are in distress of body and mind, butwho are too poor to pay for ordinary attendance. There are hundreds inthis city, especially little children, that, through vice, ignorance, orpoverty, never receive proper attention in illness. My services wouldnot be refused by this class, especially if they were gratuitous. "

"You should charge for your visits, as a rule, " said wise Mrs. Arnot. "Never give charity unless it is absolutely necessary. "

"Well, I could charge so moderately that my attendance would not be aburden. I am very grateful to Mr. Ivison for the position he gave me, but I would like to do something more and better in life than I canaccomplish as his clerk. A physician among the poor has so many chancesto speak the truth to those who might otherwise never hear it. Now thisincome from my father's estate would enable me to set about thenecessary studies at once, and the only question in my mind is, willthey receive me at the university?"

"Egbert, " said Mrs. Arnot, with one of those sudden illuminations of herface which he so loved to see, "do you remember what I said long ago, when you were a disheartened prisoner, about my ideal of knighthood? Ifyou keep on you will fulfil it. "

"I remember it well, " he replied, "but you are mistaken. My best hope isto find, as you said upon another occasion, my own little nook in thevineyard, and quietly do my work there. "

After considerable hesitation the faculty of the university receivedHaldane as a student, and Mr. Ivison parted with him very reluctantly. His studies for the past two years, and several weeks of careful review, enabled him to pass the examinations required in order to enter theJunior year of the college course. 

As his name appeared among those who might graduate in two years, theworld still further relaxed its rigid and forbidding aspect, and not afew took pains to manifest to him their respect for his resolute upwardcourse. 

But he maintained his old, distant, unobtrusive manner, and no one wasobliged to recognize, much less to show, any special kindness to him, unless they chose to do so. He evidently shrank with a morbidsensitiveness from any social contact with those who, in remembrance ofhis past history, might shrink from him. But he had not been at theuniversity very long before Mrs. Arnot overcame this diffidence so faras to induce him to meet with certain manly fellows of his class at herhouse. 

In all the frank and friendly interchange of thought between Mrs. Arnotand the young man there was one to whom, by tacit consent, they did notrefer, except in the most casual manner, and that was Laura Romeyn. Haldane had not seen her since the time she stumbled upon him in hischaracter of wood-sawyer. He kept her image in a distant anddoubly-locked chamber of his heart, and seldom permitted his thoughts togo thither. Thus the image had faded into a faint yet lovely outlinewhich he had learned to look upon with a regret that was now scarcelydeep enough to be regarded as pain. She had made one or two brief visitsto her aunt, but he had taken care never to meet her. He had learnedincidentally, however, that she had lost her father, and that her motherwas far from well. 

When calling upon Mrs. Arnot one blustering March evening, toward theclose of his Junior year, that lady explained her anxious, clouded faceby saying that her sister, Mrs. Romeyn, was very ill, and after a momentadded, half in soliloquy, "What would she do without Laura?"

From this he gathered that the young girl was a loving daughter and afaithful nurse, and the image of a pale, yet lovely watcher rose beforehim with dangerous frequence and distinctness. 

A day or two after he received a note from Mrs. Arnot, informing himthat she was about to leave home for a visit to her invalid sister, andmight be absent several weeks. Her surmise proved correct, and when shereturned Laura came with her, and the deep mourning of the orphan'sdress but faintly reflected the darker sorrow that shrouded her heart. When, a few sabbaths after her arrival, her veiled figure passed up theaisle of the church, he bowed his head in as sincere sympathy as oneperson can give for the grief of another. 

For a long time he did not venture to call on Mrs. Arnot, and then cameonly at her request. To his great relief, he did not see Laura, for hefelt that, conscious of her great loss and the memories of the past, heshould be speechless in her presence. To Mrs. Arnot he said:

"Your sorrow has seemed to me such a sacred thing that I felt that anyreference to it on my part would be like a profane touch; but I was sureyou would not misinterpret my silence or my absence, and would know thatyou were never long absent from my thoughts. "

He was rewarded by the characteristic lighting up of her face as shesaid:

"Hillaton would scarcely give you credit for such delicacy of feeling, Egbert, but you are fulfilling my faith in you. Neither have I forgottenyou and your knightly conflict because I have not seen or written toyou. You know well that my heart and hands have been full. And now avery much longer time must elapse before we can meet again. In herdevotion to her mother my niece has overtaxed her strength, and herphysical and mental depression is so great that our physician stronglyrecommends a year abroad. You can see how intensely occupied I have beenin preparations for our hurried departure. We sail this week. I shallsee your mother, no doubt, and I am glad I can tell her that which Ishould be proud to hear of a son of mine. "

The year that followed was a long one to Haldane. He managed to keep theeven tenor of his way, but it was often as the soldier makes his wearymarch in the enemy's country, fighting for and holding, step by step, with difficulty. His intense application in his first year of study andthe excitements of the previous years at last told upon him, and heoften experienced days of extreme lassitude and weariness. At one timehe was quite ill, and then he realized how lonely and isolated he was. He still kept his quarters at the hermitage, but Mr. Growther, with thekindest intentions, was too old and decrepit to prove much of a nurse. 

In his hours of enforced idleness his imagination began to retouch theshadowy image of Laura Romeyn with an ideal beauty. In his pain andweakness her character of watcher--in which her self-sacrificingdevotion had been so great as to impair her health--was peculiarlyattractive. She became to him a pale and lovely saint, too remote andsacred for his human love, and yet sufficiently human to continuallyhaunt his mind with a vague and regretful pain that he could never reachher side. He now learned from its loss how valuable Mrs. Arnot's societyhad been to him. Her letters, which were full and moderately frequent, could not take the place of her quiet yet inspiriting voice. 

He was lonely, and he recognized the fact. While there were hundreds nowin Hillaton who wished him well, and respected him for his bravestruggle, he was too shadowed by disgraceful memories to be receivedsocially into the homes that he would care to visit. Some of the churchpeople invited him out of a sense of duty, but he recognized theirmotive, and shrank from such constrained courtesy with increasingsensitiveness. 

But, though he showed human weakness and gave way to long moods ofdespondency, at times inclining to murmur bitterly at his lot, hesuffered no serious reverses. He patiently, even in the face of positivedisinclination, maintained his duties. He remembered how often theDivine Man, in his shadowed life, went apart for prayer, and honestlytried to imitate this example, so specially suited to one as maimed andimperfect as himself. 

He found that his prayers were answered, that the strong Friend to whomhe had allied his weakness did not fail him. He was sustained throughthe dark days, and his faith eventually brought him peace and serenity. He gained in patience and strength, and with better health came renewedhopefulness. 

Although not a brilliant student, he was able to complete his universitycourse and graduate with credit. He then took the first vacation that hehad enjoyed for years, and, equipping himself with fishing-rod and a fewfavorite authors, he buried himself in the mountains of Maine. 

His prison and mission classes missed him sadly. Mr. Growther found thathe could no longer live a hermit's life, and began in good earnest tolook for the "little, peaked-faced chap" that had grown to be more andmore of a reality to him; but the rest of Hillaton almost forgot thatHaldane had ever existed. 

In the autumn he returned, brown and vigorous, and entered upon hisstudies at the medical school connected with the university with decidedzest. To his joy he found a letter from Mrs. Arnot, informing him thatthe health of her niece was fully restored, and that they were about toreturn. And yet it was with misgivings that he remembered that Laurawould henceforth be an inmate of Mrs. Arnot's home. As a memory, howeverbeautiful, she was too shadowy to disturb his peace. Would this be trueif she had fulfilled all the rich promises of her girlhood, and he sawher often?

With a foreboding of future trouble he both dreaded and longed to seeonce more the maiden who had once so deeply stirred his heart, and whoin the depths of his disgrace had not scorned him when accidentallymeeting him in the guise and at the tasks of a common laborer. 

It was with a quickened pulse that he read in the "Spy" one Mondayevening, that Mrs. Arnot and niece had arrived in town. It was with aquicker pulse that he received a note from her a few days later askinghim to call that evening, and adding that two or three other young menwhom he knew to be her especial favorites would be present. 

Because our story has confined itself chiefly to the relations existingbetween Haldane and Mrs. Arnot, it must not be forgotten that her activesympathies were enlisted in behalf of many others, some of whom werealmost equally attached to her and she to them. 

After a little thought Haldane concluded that he would much prefer thathis first interview with Laura should be in the presence of others, forhe could then keep in the background without exciting remark. 

He sincerely hoped that when he saw her he might find that her old powerover him was a broken spell, and that the lovely face which had hauntedhim all these years, growing more beautiful with time, was but thecreation of his own fancy. He was sure she would still be pretty, but ifthat were all he could go on his way without a regretful thought. But ifthe shy maiden, whose half-entreating, compassionate tones hadinterrupted the harsh rasping of his saw years ago, were the type of thewoman whom he should meet that evening, might not the bitterestpunishment of his folly be still before him?

He waited till sure that the other guests had arrived, and then enteredto meet, as he believed, either a hopeless thraldom or completedisenchantment. 

As he crossed the threshold of the parlor the pleasure of seeing Mrs. Arnot again, and of receiving her cordial greeting, obliterated allother thoughts from his mind. 

He had, however, but a moment's respite, for the lady said:

"Laura, my friend Mr. Haldane. "

He turned and saw, by actual vision, the face that in fancy he had sooften looked upon. It was not the face that he expected to see at all. The shy, blue-eyed maiden, who might have reminded one of a violet halfhidden among the grass, had indeed vanished, but an ordinary prettywoman had not taken her place. 

He felt this before he had time to consciously observe it, and bowedrather low to hide his burning face; but she frankly held out her handand said, though with somewhat heightened color also:

"Mr. Haldane, I am glad to meet you again. "

Then, either to give him time to recover himself, or else, since theinterruption was over, she was glad to resume the conversation that hadbeen suspended, she turned to her former companions. Mrs. Arnot alsoleft him to himself a few moments, and by a determined effort he soughtto calm the tumultuous riot of his blood. He was not phlegmatic on anyoccasion; but even Mrs. Arnot could not understand why he should be sodeeply moved by this meeting. She ascribed it to the painful andhumiliating memories of the past, and then dismissed his manner from hermind. He speedily gained self-control, and, as is usual with strongnatures, became unusually quiet and undemonstrative. Only in the depthsof his dark eyes could one have caught a glimpse of the troubled spiritwithin, for it was troubled with a growing consciousness of an infiniteloss. 

CHAPTER XLVI

MISJUDGED

The young men who were Mrs. Arnot's guests were naturally attracted toLaura's side, and she speedily proved that she possessed the rare powerof entertaining several gentlemen at the same time, and with such graceand tact as to make each one feel that his presence was both welcome andneeded in the circle. 

Mrs. Arnot devoted herself to Haldane, and showed how genuine was herinterest in him by taking up his life where his last letter left it, andasking about all that had since occurred. Indeed, with almost a mother'ssympathy, she led him to speak of the experiences of the entire year. 

"It seems to me, " he said, "that I have scarcely more than held myground. "

"To hold one's ground, at times requires more courage, more heroicpatience and fortitude, than any other effort we can make. I have beentold that soldiers can charge against any odds better than they cansimply and coolly stand their ground. But I can see that you have beenmaking progress. You have graduated with honor. You are surely winningesteem and confidence. You have kept your faith in God, and maintainedyour peculiar usefulness to a class that so few can reach: perhaps youare doing more good than any of us, by proving that it is a fact and nota theory that the fallen can rise. "

"You are in the world, but not of it, " he said; and then, as if anxiousto change the subject, asked. "Did you see my mother?"

Although Mrs. Arnot did not intend it, there was a slight constraint inher voice and manner as she replied: "Yes, I took especial pains to seeher before I returned, and went out of my way to do so. I wished toassure her how well you were doing, and how certain you were to retrievethe past, all of which, of course, she was very glad to hear. "

"Did she send me no message?" he asked, instinctively feeling thatsomething was wrong. 

"She said that she wrote to you regularly, and so, of course, felt thatthere was no need of sending any verbal messages. "

"Was she not cordial to you?" asked the young man, with a dark frown. 

"She was very polite, Egbert. I think she misunderstands me a little. "

His lace flushed with indignation, and after a moment's thought he saidbitterly, and with something like contempt, "Poor mother! she is to bepitied. "

Mrs. Arnot's face became very grave, and almost severe, and she replied, with an emphasis which he never forgot:

"She is to be loved; she is to be cherished with the most delicateconsideration and forbearance, and honored--yes, honored--because she isyour mother. You, as her son, should never say, nor permit any one tosay a word against her. Nothing can absolve you from this sacred duty. Remember this as you hope to be a true man. "

This was Mrs. Arnot's return for the small jealousy of her girlhood'sfriend. 

He bowed his head, and after a moment replied: "Mrs. Arnot, I feel, Iknow, you are right. I thank you. "

"Now you are my knight again, " she said, her face suddenly lighting up. "But come; let us join the others, for they seem to have hit upon a verymirthful and animated discussion. "

Laura's eye and sympathies took them in at once as they approached, andenveloped them in the genial and magnetic influences which she seemed tohave the power of exerting. Although naturally and deeply interested inhis interview with Mrs. Arnot, Haldane's eyes and thoughts had beendrawn frequently and irresistibly to the object of his old-time passion. She was, indeed, very different from what he had expected. The diffidentmaiden, so slight in form and shy in manner, had not developed into adrooping lily of a woman, suggesting that she must always have a manlysupport of some kind near at hand. Still less had she become a typicalbelle, and the aggressive society girl who captures and amuses herselfwith her male admirers with the grace and sang froid of a sportivekitten that carefully keeps a hapless mouse within reach of her velvetpaw. The pale and saint-like image which he had so long enshrined withinhis heart, and which had been created by her devotion to her mother, also faded utterly away in the presence of the reality before him. Shewas a veritable flesh-and-blood woman, with the hue of health upon hercheek, and the charm of artistic beauty in her rounded form and gracefulmanner. She was a revelation to him, transcending not only all that hehad seen, but all that he had imagined. 

Thus far he had not attained a moral and intellectual culture whichenabled him even to idealize so beautiful and perfect a creature. Shewas not a saint in the mystical or imaginative sense of the word, but, as a queen reigning by the divine right of her surpassing loveliness andgrace in even Hillaton's exclusive society, she was practically as farremoved from him as if she were an ideal saint existing only in apainter's haunted imagination. 

Nature had dowered Laura Romeyn very richly in the graces of both personand mind; but many others are equally favored. Her indescribable charmarose from the fact that she was very receptive in her disposition. Shehad been wax to receive, but marble to retain. Therefore, since she hadalways lived and breathed in an atmosphere of culture, refinement, andChristian faith, her character had the exquisite beauty and fragrancewhich belongs to a rare flower to which all the conditions of perfectdevelopment have been supplied. Although the light of her eye wasserene, and her laugh as clear and natural as the fall of water, therewas a nameless something which indicated that her happy, healthfulnature rested against a dark background of sorrow and trial, and wasmade the richer and more perfect thereby. 

Her self-forgetfulness was contagious. The beautiful girl did not lookfrom one to another of the admiring circle for the sake of picking up asmall revenue of flattery. From a native generosity she wished to givepleasure to her guests; from a holy principle instilled into her natureso long ago that she was no longer conscious of it, she wished to dothem good by suggesting only such thoughts as men associate with pure, good women; and from an earnest, yet sprightly mind, she took a genuineinterest herself in the subjects on which they were conversing. 

By her tact, and with Mrs. Arnot's efficient aid, she drew all into thecurrent of their talk. The three other young men who were Mrs. Arnot'sguests that evening were manly fellows, and had come to treat Haldanewith cordial respect. Thus for a time he was made to forget all that hadoccurred to cloud his life. He found that the presence of Laura kindledhis intellect with a fire of which he had never been conscious before. His eyes flashed sympathy with every word she said, and before he wasaware he, too, was speaking his mind with freedom, for he saw nochilling repugnance toward him in the kindly light of her deep blueeyes. She led him to forget himself and his past so completely that he, in the excitement of argument, inadvertently pronounced his own doom. Inanswer to the remark of another, he said:

"Society is right in being conservative and exclusive, and its favorshould be the highest earthly reward of a stainless life. The coarse andthe vulgar should be taught that they cannot purchase it nor elbow theirway into it, and those who have it should be made to feel that losing itis like losing life, for it can never be regained. Thus society not onlyprotects itself, but prevents weak souls from dallying with temptation. "

So well-bred was Laura that, while her color deepened at his words, shebetrayed no other consciousness that they surprised her. But he suddenlyremembered all, and the blood rushed tumultuously to his face, then leftit very pale. 

"What I have said is true, nevertheless, " he added quietly anddecisively, as if in answer to these thoughts; "and losing one's placein society may be worse than losing life. "

He felt that this was true, as he looked at the beautiful girl beforehim, so kind and gentle, and yet so unapproachable by him; and, what ismore, he saw in her face pitying acquiescence to his words. As heraunt's protege, as a young man trying to reform, he felt that he wouldhave her good wishes and courteous treatment, but never anything more. 

"Egbert, I take issue with you, " began Mrs. Arnot warmly; but furtherremark was interrupted by the entrance of a gentleman, who was announcedas

"Mr. Beaumont. "

There was a nice distinction between the greeting given by Mrs. Arnot tothis gentleman and that which she had bestowed upon Haldane and herother guests. His reception was simply the perfection of quiet courtesy, and no one could have been sure that the lady was glad to see him. Shemerely welcomed him as a social equal to her parlors, and then turnedagain to her friends. 

But Laura had a kindlier greeting for the new-comer. While her mannerwas equally undemonstrative, her eyes lighted up with pleasure and thecolor deepened in her cheeks. It was evident that they were oldacquaintances, and that he had found previous occasions for makinghimself very agreeable. 

Mr. Beaumont did not care to form one of a circle. He was in the world'sestimation, possibly in his own, a complete circle in himself, roundedout and perfect on every side. He was the only son in one of the oldestand most aristocratic families in the city; he was the heir of verylarge wealth; his careful education had been supplemented by years offoreign travel; he was acknowledged to be the best connoisseur of art inHillaton; and to his irreproachable manners was added an irreproachablecharacter. "He is a perfect gentleman, " was the verdict of the bestsociety wherever he appeared. 

Something to this effect Haldane learned from one of the young men withwhom he had been spending the evening, as they bent their stepshomeward--for soon after Mr. Beaumont's arrival all took theirdeparture. 

That gentleman seemed to bring in with him a different atmosphere fromthat which had prevailed hitherto. Although his bow was distant toHaldane when introduced, his manner had been the perfection ofpoliteness to the others. For some reason, however, there had been asudden restraint and chill. Possibly they had but unconsciously obeyedthe strong will of Mr. Beaumont, who wished their departure. He wasalmost as resolute in having his own way as Mr. Arnot himself. Not thathe was ever rude to any one in any circumstances, but he could politelyfreeze objectionable persons out of a room as effectually as if he tookthem by the shoulders and walked them out. There was so much in hissurroundings and antecedents to sustain his quiet assumption, that theworld was learning to say, "By your leave, " on all occasions. 

Haldane was not long in reaching a conclusion as he sat over a dyingfire in his humble quarters at the hermitage. If he saw much of LauraRomeyn he would love her of necessity by every law of his being. Assuring himself of the hopelessness of his affection would make nodifference to one of his temperament. He was not one who could coollysay to his ardent and impetuous nature, "Thus far, and no farther. "There was something in her every tone, word, and movement which touchedchords within his heart that vibrated pleasurably or painfully. 

This power cannot be explained. It was not passion. Were Laura far morebeautiful, something in her manner or character might speedily havebroken the spell by which she unconsciously held her captive. Hisemotion in no respect resembled the strong yet restful affection that heentertained for Mrs. Arnot. Was it love? Why should he love one whowould not love in return, and who, both in the world's and his ownestimation, was infinitely beyond his reach? However much his reasonmight condemn his feelings, however much he might regret the fact, hisheart trembled at her presence, and, by some instinct of its own, acknowledged its mistress. He was compelled to admit to himself that heloved her already, and that his boyhood's passion had only changed as hehad changed, and had become the strong and abiding sentiment of the man. She only could have broken the power by becoming commonplace, by losingthe peculiar charm which she had for him from the first. But now hecould not choose; he had met his fate. 

One thing, however, he could do, and that he resolved upon before heclosed his eyes in sleep in the faint dawning of the following day. Hewould not flutter as a poor moth where he could not be received as anaccepted lover. 

This resolution he kept. He did not cease calling upon Mrs. Arnot, nordid the quiet warmth of his manner toward her change; but his visitsbecame less frequent, he pleading the engrossing character of hisstudies, and the increasing preparation required to maintain his hold onhis mission-class; but the lady's delicate intuition was not long indivining the true cause. One of his unconscious glances at Laurarevealed his heart to her woman's eye as plainly as could any spokenwords. But by no word or hint did Mrs. Arnot reveal to him herknowledge. Her tones might have been gentler and her eyes kinder; thatwas all. In her heart, however, she almost revered the man who had thestrength and patience to take up this heavy and hopeless burden, and goon in the path of duty without a word. How different was his presentcourse from his former passionate clamor for what was then equallybeyond his reach? She was almost provoked at her niece that she did notappreciate Haldane more. But would she wish her peerless ward to marrythis darkly shadowed man, to whom no parlor in Hillaton was open saveher own? Even Mrs. Arnot would shrink from this question. 

Laura, too, had perceived that which Haldane meant to hide from all theworld. When has a beautiful woman failed to recognize her worshippers?But there was nothing in Laura's nature which permitted her to exultover such a discovery. She could not resent as presumption a love thatwas so unobtrusive, for it became more and more evident as time passedthat the man who was mastered by it would never voluntarily give to herthe slightest hint of its existence. She was pleased that he was sosensible as to recognize the impassable gulf between them, and that hedid not go moaning along the brink, thus making a spectacle of himself, and becoming an annoyance to her. Indeed, she sincerely respected himfor his reticence and self-control, but she also misjudged him; for hewas so patient and strong, and went forward with his duties so quietlyand steadily, that she was inclined to believe that his feelings towardher were not very deep, or else that he was so constituted that affairsof the heart did not give him very much trouble. 

CHAPTER XLVII

LAURA CHOOSES HER KNIGHT

Why Laura, how your cheeks burn!" exclaimed Mrs. Arnot as she enteredher niece's room one afternoon. 

"Now, don't laugh at me for being so foolish, but I have become absurdlyexcited over this story. Scott was well called the 'Wizard of theNorth. ' What a spell he weaves over his pages! When reading some of hisdescriptions of men and manners in those old chivalric times, I feelthat I have been born some centuries too late--in our time everything isso matter-of-fact, and the men are so prosaic. The world moves on with asteady business jog, or, to change the figure, with the monotonous clankof uncle's machinery. My castle in the air would be the counterpart ofthose which Scott describes. "

"Romantic as ever, " laughed her aunt; "and that reminds me, by the way, of the saying that romantic girls always marry matter-of-fact men, which, I suppose, will be your fate. I confess I much prefer our ownage. Your stony castles make me shiver with a sense of discomfort; andas for the men, I imagine they are much the same now as then, for humannature does not change much. "

"O, auntie, what a prosaic speech! Uncle might have made it himself. Theidea of men being much the same now! Why, in that day there were thewidest and most picturesque differences between men of the same rank. There were horrible villains, and then to vanquish these and undo themischief they were ever causing, there were knights _sans peur et sansreproche. _ But now a gentleman is a gentleman, and all made up verymuch in the same style, like their dress coats. I would like to haveseen at least one genuine knight--a man good enough and brave enough todo and to dare anything to which he could be impelled by a mostchivalric sense of duty. About the most heroic thing a man ever did forme was to pick up my fan. "

Mrs. Arnot thought of one man whose heart was almost breaking for her, and yet who maintained such a quiet, masterful self-control that theobject of his passion, which had become like a torturing flame, was notsubjected to even the slightest annoyance; and she said, "You aresatirical today. In my opinion there are as true knights now as yourfavorite author ever described. "

"Not in Hillaton, " laughed Laura, "or else their disguise is perfect. "

"Yes, in Hillaton, " replied Mrs. Arnot, with some warmth, "and among thevisitors at this house. I know of one who bids fair to fulfil my highestideal of knighthood, and I think you will do me the justice to believethat my standard is not a low one. "

"Auntie, you fairly takeaway my breath!" said Laura, in the samehalf-jesting spirit. " Where have my eyes been? Pray, who is thisparagon, who must, indeed, be nearly perfect, to satisfy your standard?"

"You must discover him for yourself; as you say, he appears to be but agentleman, and would be the last one in the world to think of himself asa knight, or to fill your ideal of one. You must remember the characterof our age. If one of your favorite knights should step, armed_cap-a-pie, _ out of Scott's pages, all the dogs in town would be athis heels, and he would probably bring up at the station-house. Myknight promises to become the flower of his own age. Now I think of it, I do not like the conventional word 'flower, ' as used in thisconnection, for my knight is steadily growing strong like a young oak. Ihope I may live to see the man he will eventually become. "

"You know well, auntie, " said Laura, "that I have not meant half I havesaid. The men of our day are certainly equal to the women, and I shallnot have to look far to find my superior in all respects. I must admit, however, that your words have piqued my curiosity, and I am rather gladyou have not named this 'heart of oak, ' for the effort to discover himwill form a pleasant little excitement. "

"Were I that way inclined, " said Mrs. Arnot, smiling, "I would bewilling to wager a good deal that you will hit upon the wrong man. "

Laura became for a time quite a close student of human nature, observingnarrowly the physiognomy and weighing the words and manner, of her manygentleman acquaintances; but while she found much to respect, and evento admire, in some, she was not sure that any one of them answered toher aunt's description. Nor could she obtain any further light byinquiring somewhat into their antecedents. As for Mrs. Arnot, she wasconsiderably amused, but continued perfectly non-committal. 

After Laura had quite looked through her acquaintances Haldane made oneof his infrequent calls, but as Mr. Beaumont was also present she gaveto her quondam lover scarcely more than a kindly word of greeting, andthen forgot his existence. It did not occur to her, any more than itwould to Haldane himself, that he was the knight. 

Mr. Arnot, partly out of a grim humor peculiarly his own, and partly toextenuate his severity toward the youth, had sent to his niece all thecity papers containing unfavorable references to Haldane, and to hermind the associations created by those disgraceful scenes were stillinseparable from him. She honestly respected him for his resolute effortto reform, as she would express it, and as a sincere Christian girl shewished him the very best of success, but this seemed as far as herregard for him could ever go. She treated him kindly where most othersin her station would not recognize him at all, but such was the delicacyand refinement of her nature that she shrank from one who had beencapable of acts like his. The youth who had annoyed her with hispassion, whom she had seen fall upon the floor in gross intoxication, who had been dragged through the streets as a criminal, and who twicehad been in jail, was still a vivid memory. She knew comparativelylittle about, and did not understand, the man of to-day. Beyond thegeneral facts that he was doing well and doing good, it was evidentthat, by reason of old and disagreeable associations, she did not wishto hear much about him, and Mrs. Arnot had the wisdom to see that timeand the young man's own actions would do more to remove prejudice fromthe mind of her niece, as well as from the memory of society in general, than could any words of hers. 

Of course, such a girl as Laura had many admirers, and among them Mr. Beaumont was evidently winning the first place in her esteem. Whether hewere the knight that her aunt had in mind or no, she was not sure, buthe realized her ideal more completely than any man whom she had evermet. He did, indeed, seem the "perfect flower of his age, " although shewas not so sure of the oak-like qualities. She often asked herselfwherein she could find fault with him or with all that related to him, and even her delicate discrimination could scarcely find a vulnerablepoint. He was fine-looking, his heavy side-whiskers redeeming his facefrom effeminacy; he was tall and elegant in his proportions; his tastein his dress was quiet and faultless; he possessed the most refined andhighly cultured mind of any man whom she had known; his family wasexceedingly proud and aristocratic, but as far as there can be reasonfor these characteristics, this old and wealthy family had such reason. Laura certainly could not find fault with these traits, for from thefirst Mr. Beaumont's parents had sought to pay her especial attention. It was quite evident that they thought that the orphaned girl who was sorichly dowered with wealth and beauty might make as good a wife fortheir matchless son as could be found, and such an opinion on their partwas, indeed, a high compliment to Laura's birth and breeding. No oneelse in Hillaton would have been thought of with any equanimity. 

The son was inclined to take the same view as that entertained by hisparents, but, as the party most nearly interested, he felt it incumbentupon him to scrutinize very closely and deliberately the woman who mightbecome his wife, and surely this was a sensible thing to do. 

There was nothing mercenary or coarse in his delicate analysis and closeobservation. Far from it. Mr. Beaumont was the last man in the world tolook a lady over as he would a bale of merchandise. More than all thingselse, Mr. Beaumont was a _connoisseur_, and he sought Mrs. Arnot'sparlors with increasing frequency because he believed that he wouldthere find the woman best fitted to become the chief ornament of thestately family mansion. 

Laura had soon become conscious of this close tentative scrutiny, and atfirst she had been inclined to resent its cool deliberateness. But, remembering that a man certainly has a right to learn well the characterof the woman whom he may ask to be his wife, she felt that there wasnothing in his action of which she could complain; and it soon became amatter of pride with her, as much as anything else, to satisfy thosefastidious eyes that hitherto had critically looked the world over, andin vain, for a pearl with a lustre sufficiently clear. She began tostudy his taste, to dress for him, to sing for him, to read his favoriteauthors; and so perfect was his taste that she found herself aided andenriched by it. He was her superior in these matters, for he had madethem his life-study. The first hour that she spent with him in apicture-gallery was long remembered, for never before had those fine andartistic marks which make a painting great been so clearly pointed outto her. She was brought to believe that this man could lead her to thehighest point of culture to which she could attain, and satisfy everyrefined taste that she possessed. It seemed as if he could make life onelong gallery of beautiful objects, through which she might stroll inelegant leisure, ever conscious that lie who stood by to minister andexplain was looking away from all things else in admiration of herself. 

The prospect was too alluring. Laura was not an advanced female, with amission; she was simply a young and lovely woman, capable of the noblestaction and feeling should the occasion demand them, but naturallyluxurious and beauty-loving in her tastes, and inclined to shun theprosaic side of life. 

She made Beaumont feel that she also was critical and exacting. She hadlived too long under Mrs. Arnot's influence to be satisfied with a manwho merely lived for the pleasure he could get out of each successiveday. He saw that she demanded that he should have a purpose and aim inlife, and he skilfully met this requirement by frequently descanting onaesthetic culture as the great lever which could move the world, and bysuggesting that the great question of his future was how he could bestbring this culture to the people. As a Christian, she took issue withhim as to its being the great lever, but was enthusiastic over it as amost powerful means of elevating the masses, and she often found herselfdreaming over how much a man gifted with Mr. Beaumont's exquisite tasteand large wealth could do by placing within the reach of the multitudeobjects of elevating art and beauty. 

By a fine instinct she felt, rather than saw, that Mrs. Arnot did notspecially like the seemingly faultless man, and was led to believe thather aunt's ideal knight was to be found among some of the heartier youngmen who were bent on doing good in the old-fashioned ways; and, with atendency not unnatural in one so young and romantic, she thought of heraunt as being a bit old-fashioned and prosaic herself. In her youthfuland ardent imagination Beaumont came to fill more and more definitelyher ideal of the modern knight--a man who summed up within himself theperfect culture of his age, and who was proposing to diffuse thatculture as widely as possible. 

"You do not admire Mr. Beaumont, " said Laura a little abruptly to heraunt one day. 

"You are mistaken, Laura; I do admire him very much. "

"Well, you do not like him, then, to speak more correctly; he takes nohold upon your sympathies. "

"There is some truth in your last remark, I must admit. For some reasonhe does not. Perhaps it is my fault, and I have sometimes asked myself, Is Mr. Beaumont capable of strong affection or self-sacrificing action?has he much heart?"

"I think you do him injustice in these respects, " said Laura warmly. 

"Quite probably, " replied Mrs. Arnot, adding with a mischievous smile, which brought the rich color to her niece's cheeks, "Perhaps you are ina better position to judge of his possession of these qualities than Iam. Thus far he has given me only the opportunity of echoing society'sverdict--He is a perfect gentleman. I wish he were a better Christian, "she concluded gravely. 

"I think he is a Christian, auntie. "

"Yes, dear, in a certain aesthetic sense. But far be it from me to judgehim. Like the rest of the world, I respect him as an honorablegentleman. "

A few days after this conversation Mr. Beaumont drove a pair ofcoal-black horses to Mrs. Arnot's door, and invited Laura to take adrive. When, in the twilight, she returned, she went straight to heraunt's private parlor, and, curling down at her knees, as was her customwhen a child, said:

"Give me your blessing, auntie; your congratulations, also--I hope, although I am not so sure of these. I have found my knight, thoughprobably not yours. See!" and she held up her finger, with a greatflashing diamond upon it. 

Mrs. Arnot took the girl in her arms and said, "I do bless you, mychild, and I think I can congratulate you also. On every principle ofworldly prudence and worldly foresight I am sure I can. It will be veryhard ever to give you up to another; and yet I am growing old, and I amglad that you, who are such a sacred charge to me, have chosen one whostands so high in the estimation of all, and who is so abundantly ableto gratify your tastes. "

"Yes, auntie, I think I am fortunate, " said Laura, with complacentemphasis. "I have found a man not only able to gratify all mytastes--and you know that many of them are rather expensive--but hehimself satisfies my most critical taste, and even fills out the idealof my fancy. "

Mrs. Arnot gave a sudden sigh. 

"Now, auntie, what, in the name of wonder, can that foreboding sighmean?"

"You have not said that he satisfied your heart. "

"O, I think he does fully, " said Laura, hastily, though with a faintmisgiving. " These tender feelings will come in their own good time. Wehave not got far enough along for them yet. Besides, I never could haveendured a passionate lover. I was cured of any such tastes long ago, youremember, " she added, with a faint laugh. 

"Poor Egbert!" ejaculated Mrs. Arnot, with such sad emphasis that Lauralooked up into her face inquiringly as she asked:

"You don't think he will care much, do you?"

"Yes, Laura; you know he will care, perhaps more deeply than I do; but Ibelieve that he will wish you happiness as truly and honestly asmyself. "

"O, auntie! how can it be that he will care as much as yourself?"

"Is it possible, Laura, that you have failed to detect his regard foryou in all these months? I detected it at a glance, and felt sure thatyou had also. "

"So I did, auntie, long since, but I supposed it was, as you say, a mereregard that did not trouble him much. I should be sorry to think that itwas otherwise. "

"At all events, it has not troubled you much, whatever it may have costhim. You hardly do Haldane justice. Your allusion to his former passionshould remind you that he still possesses the same ardent and impetuousnature, out it is under control. You cannot return his deep, yetunobtrusive, love, and, as the world is constituted, it is probably wellfor you that this is true; but I cannot bear that it should have nobetter reward than your last rather contemptuous allusion. "

"Forgive me, auntie; I did not imagine that he felt as you seem tothink. Indeed, in my happiness and preoccupation, I have scarcelythought of him at all. His love has, in truth, been unobtrusive. Soscrupulously has he kept it from my notice that I had thought and hopedthat it had but little place in his mind. But if you are right, I amvery, very sorry. Why is the waste of these precious heart-treasurespermitted?" and gathering tears attested her sincerity. 

"That is an old, old question, which the world has never answered. Thescientists tell us that by a law of nature no force is ever lost. Ifthis be true in the physical world, it certainly should be in thespiritual. I also believe that an honest, unselfish love can enrich theheart that gives it, even though it receives no other reward. But youhave no occasion to blame yourself, Laura. It is one of those thingswhich never could have been helped. Besides, Haldane is serving a Masterwho is pledged to shape seeming evils for his good. I had no thought ofspeaking of him at all, only your remark seemed so like injustice that Icould not be silent. In the future, moreover, you may do something forhim. Society is too unrelenting, and does not sufficiently recognize thestruggle he has made, and is yet making; and he is so morbidly sensitivethat he will not take anything that even looks like social alms. Youwill be in a position to help him toward the recognition which hedeserves, for I should be sorry to see him become a lonely and isolatedman. Of course, you will have to do this very carefully, but your owngraceful tact will best guide you in this matter. I only wish you toappreciate the brave fight he is making and the character he is forming, and not to think of him merely as a commonplace, well-meaning man, whois at last trying to do right, and who will be fairly content with lifeif he can secure his bread and butter. "

"I will remember what you say, and do my very best, " said Lauraearnestly, "for I do sincerely respect Mr. Haldane for his efforts toretrieve the past, and I should despise myself did I not appreciate thedelicate consideration he has shown for me if he has such feelings asyou suppose. Auntie!" she exclaimed after a moment, a sudden lightbreaking in upon her, "Mr. Haldane is your knight. "

"And a very plain, prosaic knight, no doubt, he seems to you. "

"I confess that he does, and yet when I think of it I admit that he hasfought his way up against tremendous odds. Indeed, his present positionin contrast with what he was involves so much hard fighting that I canonly think of him as one of those plain, rugged men who have risen fromthe ranks. "

"Look for the plain and rugged characteristics when he next calls, " saidMrs. Arnot quietly. "One would have supposed that such a rugged naturewould have interposed some of his angles in your way. "

"Forgive me, auntie; I am inclined to think that I know very littleabout your knight; but it is natural that I should much prefer my own. Your knight is like one of those remorseful men of the olden time who, partly from faith and partly in penance for past misdeeds, dons a suitof plain heavy iron armor, and goes away to parts unknown to fight theinfidel. My knight is clad in shining steel; nor is the steel less truebecause overlaid with a filagree of gold; and he will make the worldbetter not by striking rude and ponderous blows, but by teaching itsomething of his own fair courtesy and his own rich culture. "

"Your description of Haldane is very fanciful and a little far-fetched, "said Mrs. Arnot, laughing; "should I reply in like vein I would only addthat I believe that he will henceforth keep the 'white cross' on hisknightly mantle unstained. Already he seems to have won a place in thatancient and honorable order established so many centuries ago, themembers of which were entitled to inscribe upon their shields thelegend, 'He that ruleth his own spirit is better than he that taketh acity. ' But we are carrying this fanciful imagery too far, and had betterdrop it altogether. I know that you will do for Haldane all that womanlydelicacy permits, and that is all I wish. Mr. Beaumont's course towardyou commands my entire respect. He long since asked both your uncle'sconsent and mine to pay you his addresses, and while we, of course, gaveour approval, we have left you wholly free to follow the promptings ofyour own heart. In the world's estimation, Laura, it will be a brilliantalliance for each party; but my prayer shall be that it may be a happyand sympathetic union, and that you may find an unfailing and increasingcontent in each other's society. Nothing can compensate for the absenceof a warm, kind heart, and the nature that is without it is like a homewithout a hearth-stone and a fire; the larger and more stately it is, the colder and more cheerless it seems. "

Laura understood her aunt's allusion to her own bitter disappointment, and she almost shivered at the possibility of meeting a like experience. 

CHAPTER XLVIII

MRS. ARNOT'S KNIGHT

It will not be supposed that Haldane was either blind or indifferentduring the long months in which Beaumont, like a skilful engineer, wasmaking his regular approaches to the fair lady whom he would win. Heearly foresaw what appeared to him would be the inevitable result, andyet, in spite of all his fortitude, and the frequency with which heassured himself that it was natural, that it was best, that it wasright, that this peerless woman should wed a man of Beaumont's positionand culture, still that gentleman's assured deliberate advance was likethe slow and torturing contraction of the walls of that terrible chamberin the Inquisition which, by an imperceptible movement, closed in uponand crushed the prisoner. For a time he felt that he could not endurethe pain, and he grew haggard under it. 

"What's the matter, my boy?" said Mr. Growther abruptly to him oneevening. "You look as if something was a-gnawin' and a-eatin' your veryheart out. "

He satisfied his old friend by saying that he did not feel well, andsurely one sick at heart as he was might justly say this. 

Mr. Growther immediately suggested as remedies all the drugs he had everheard of, and even volunteered to go after them; but Haldane said with asmile, "I would not survive if I took a tenth part of the medicines you havenamed, and not one of them would do me any good. I think I'll take awalk instead. "

Mr. Growther thought a few moments, and muttered to himself, "What acussed old fool I've been to think that rhubob and jallup could touchhis case! He's got something on his mind, " and with a commendabledelicacy he forbore to question and pry. 

Gradually, however, Haldane obtained patience and then strength to meetwhat seemed inevitable, and to go forward with the strong, measuredtread of a resolute soldier. 

While passing through his lonely and bitter conflict he learned thevalue and significance of that ancient prophecy, "He is despised andrejected of men; a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and we hid, as it were, our faces from him. " How long, long ago God planned andpurposed to win the sympathy and confidence of the suffering by comingso close to them in like experience that they could feel sure--yes, know--that he felt with them and for them. 

Never before had the young man so fully realized how vital a privilegeit was to be a disciple of Christ--to be near to him--and enjoy whatresembled a companionship akin to that possessed by those who followedhim up and down the rugged paths of Judea and Galilee. 

When, at last, Laura's engagement became a recognized fact, he receivedthe intelligence as quietly as the soldier who is ordered to take andhold a position that will long try his fortitude and courage to theutmost. 

As for Laura, the weeks that followed her engagement were like abeautiful dream, but one that was created largely by the springing hopesand buoyancy of youth, and the witchery of her own vivid imagination. The springtime had come again, and the beauty and promise of her ownfuture seemed reflected in nature. Every day she took long drives intothe country with her lover, or made expeditions to picture galleries inNew York; again, they would visit public parks or beautiful privategrounds in which the landscape gardener had lavished his art. She livedand fairly revelled in a world of beauty, and for the time itintoxicated her with delight. 

There was also such a chorus of congratulation that she could not helpfeeling complacent. Society indorsed her choice so emphatically anduniversally that she was sure she had made no mistake. She was caused tofeel that she had carried off the richest prize ever known in Hillaton, and she was sufficiently human to be elated over the fact. 

Nor was the congratulation all on one side. Society was quite aspositive that Beaumont had been equally fortunate, and there were somethat insisted that he had gained the richer prize. It was known thatLaura had considerable property in her own name, and it was the generalbelief that she would eventually become heiress of a large part of thecolossal fortune supposed to be in the possession of Mr. And Mrs. Arnot. In respect to character, beauty, accomplishments-in brief, the minorconsiderations in the world's estimation-it was admitted by all thatLaura had few superiors. Mr. Beaumont's parents were lavish in themanifestations of their pleasure and approval. And thus it would seemthat these two lives were fitly joined by the affinity of kindredtastes, by the congenial habits of equal rank, and by universalacclamation. 

Gradually, however, the glamour thrown around her new relationship byits very novelty, by unnumbered congratulations, and the excitementattendant on so momentous a step in a young lady's life, began to passaway. Every fine drive in the country surrounding the city had beentaken again and again; all the fine galleries had been visited, and thefiner pictures admired and dwelt upon in Mr. Beaumont's refined andquiet tones, until there was little more to be said. Laura had come toknow exactly why her favorite paintings were beautiful, and preciselythe marks which gave them value. The pictures remained just asbeautiful, but she became rather tired of hearing Mr. Beaumont analyzethem. Not that she could find any fault with what he said, but it wasthe same thing over and over again. She became, slowly and unpleasantly, impressed with the thought that, while Mr. Beaumont would probably takethe most correct view of every object that met his eye, he would alwaystake the same view, and, having once heard him give an opinion, shecould anticipate on all future occasions just what he would say. We allknow, by disagreeable experience, that no man is so wearisome as he whorepeats himself over and over again without variation, no matter howapproved his first utterance may have been. Beaumont was remarkablygifted with the power of forming a correct judgment of the technicalwork of others in all departments of art and literature, and to theperfecting of this accurate aesthetic taste he had given the energies ofhis maturer years. He had carefully scrutinized in every land all thatthe best judges considered pre-eminently great and beautiful, but hiscritical powers were those of an expert, a connoisseur, only. His mindhad no freshness or originality. He had very little imagination. Laura'sspirit would kindle before a beautiful painting until her eyes suffusedwith tears. He would observe coolly, with an eye that measured andcompared everything with the received canons of art, and if the drawingand coloring were correct he was simply--satisfied. 

Again, he had a habit of forgetting that he had given his artistic viewsupon a subject but a brief time before, and would repeat them almostword for word, and often his polished sentences and quiet monotone wereas wearisome as a thrice-told tale. 

As time wore on the disagreeable thought began to suggest itself toLaura that the man himself had culminated; that he was perfected to thelimit of his nature, and finished off. She foresaw with dread that shemight reach a point before very long when she would know all that heknew, or, at least, all that he kept in his mind, and that thereaftereverything would be endless repetition to the end of life. He dressedvery much the same every day; his habits were very uniform andmethodical. In the world's estimation he was, indeed, a bright luminary, and he certainly resembled the heavenly bodies in the followingrespects. Laura was learning that she could calculate his orbit to anicety, and know beforehand what he would do and say in givenconditions. When she came to know him better she might be able to tracethe unwelcome resemblance still further, in the fact that he did notseem to be progressing toward anything, but was going round and round ahabitual circle of thought and action, with himself as the centre of hisuniverse. 

Laura resisted the first and infrequent coming of these thoughts, as ifthey were suggestions of the evil one; but, in spite of all effort, allself-reproach, they would return. Sometimes as little a thing as anelegant pose--so perfect, indeed, as to suggest that it had been studiedand learned by heart years ago--would occasion them, and the happy girlbegan to sigh over a faint foreboding of trouble. 

By no word or thought did she ever show him what was passing in hermind, and she would have to show such thoughts plainly before he wouldeven dream of their existence, for no man ever more thoroughly believedin himself than did Auguste Beaumont. He was satisfied he had learnedthe best and most approved way of doing everything, and as his actionwas always the same, it was, therefore, always right. Moreover, Lauraeventually divined, while calling with him on his parents, that thegreatest heresy and most aggravated offence that any one could be guiltyof in the Beaumont mansion would be to find fault with Auguste. It wouldbe a crime for which neither reason nor palliation could be found. 

Thus the prismatic hues which had surrounded this man began to fade, andLaura, who had hoped to escape the prose of life, was reluctantlycompelled to admit to herself at times that she found her lovertiresomely prosy and "splendidly null. "

In the meantime Haldane had finished the studies of his second year atthe medical college, and had won the respect of his instructors by hiscareful attention to the lectures, and by a certain conscientious, painstaking manner, rather than by the display of any striking orbrilliant qualities. 

One July evening, before taking his summer vacation, he called on Mrs. Arnot. The sky in the west was so threatening, and the storm came on sorapidly, that Mr. Beaumont did not venture down to the city, and Laura, partly to fill a vacant hour, and partly to discover wherein the man ofto-day, of whom her aunt could speak in such high terms, differed fromthe youth that she, even as an immature girl, despised, determined togive Haldane a little close observation. When he entered she was at thepiano, practicing a very difficult and intricate piece of music thatBeaumont had recently brought to her, and he said:

"Please do not cease playing. Music, which is a part of your daily fare, is to me a rarely tasted luxury, for you know that in Hillaton there arebut few public concerts even in winter. "

She gave him a glance of genuine sympathy, as she remembered that onlyat a public concert where he could pay his way to an unobtrusive seatcould he find opportunity to enjoy that which was a part of her dailylife. In no parlor save her aunt's could he enjoy such refiningpleasures, and for a reason that she knew well he had rarely availedhimself of the privilege. Then another thought followed swiftly: "Surelya man so isolated and cut off from these aesthetic influences which Mr. Beaumont regards as absolutely essential, must have become uncouth andangular in his development. " The wish to discover how far this was truegave to her observation an increasing zest. She generously resolved, however, to give him as rich a musical banquet as it was in her power tofurnish, if his eye and manner asked for it. 

"Please continue what you were playing, " he added, "it piques mycuriosity. "

As the musical intricacy which gave the rich but tangled fancies of amaster-mind proceeded, his brow knit in perplexity, and at its close heshook his head and remarked:

"That is beyond me. Now and then I seemed to catch glimpses of meaning, and then all was obscure again. "

"It is beyond me, too, " said Mrs. Arnot with a laugh. "Come, Laura, giveus something simple. I have heard severely classical and intricate musicso long that I am ready to welcome even 'Auld lang syne. '"

"I also will enjoy a change to something old and simple, " said Laura, and her fingers glided into a selection which Haldane instantlyrecognized as Steibelt's Storm Rondo. 

As Laura glanced at him she saw his deepening color, and then itsuddenly flashed upon her when she had first played that music for him, and her own face flushed with annoyance at her forgetfulness. Afterplaying it partly through she turned to her music-stand in search ofsomething else, but Haldane said:

"Please finish the rondo, Miss Romeyn;" adding, with a frank laugh, "Youhave, no doubt, forgotten it; but you once, by means of this music, gaveme one of the most deserved and wholesome lessons I ever received. "

"Your generous acknowledgment of a fancied mistake at that time shouldhave kept me from blunders this evening, " she replied in a pained tone. 

With a steady glance that held her eyes he said very quietly, and almostgently:

"You have made no blunder, Miss Romeyn. I do not ignore the past, nor doI wish it to be ignored with painstaking care. I am simply trying toface it and overcome it as I might an enemy. I may be wrong, for youknow I have had little chance to become versed in the ways of goodsociety; but it appears to me that it would be better even for those whoare to spend but a social hour together that they should be free fromthe constraint which must exist when there is a constant effort to shundelicate or dangerous ground. Please finish the rondo; and also pleaseremember that the ice is not thin here and there, " he added with asmile. 

Laura caught her aunt's glance, and the significant lighting up of herface, and, with an answering smile, she said:

"If you will permit me to change the figure, I will suggest that youhave broken the ice so completely that I shall take you at your word, and play and sing just what you wish;" and, bent upon giving the youngman all the pleasure she could, she exerted her powers to the utmost inwidely varied selections; and while she saw that his technical knowledgewas limited, it was clearly evident that he possessed a naturesingularly responsive to musical thoughts and effects; indeed, she founda peculiar pleasure and incentive in glancing at his face from time totime, for she saw reflected there the varied characteristics of themelody. But once, as she looked up to see how he liked an old Englishballad, she caught that which instantly brought the hot blood into herface. 

Haldane had forgotten himself, forgotten that she belonged to another, and, under the spell of the old love song, had dropped his mask. She sawhis heart in his gaze of deep, intense affection more plainly thanspoken words could have revealed it. 

He started slightly as he saw her conscious blush, turned pale insteadof becoming red and embarrassed, and, save a slight compression of hislips, made no other movement. She sang the concluding verse of theballad in a rather unsympathetic manner, and, after a light instrumentalpiece devoid of sentiment, rose from the piano. 

Haldane thanked her with frank heartiness, and then added in a playfulmanner that, although the concert was over, he was weather-bound onaccount of the shower, and would therefore try to compensate them forgiving him shelter by relating a curious story which was not onlyfounded on fact, but all fact; and he soon had both of his auditorsdeeply interested in one of those strange and varied experiences whichoccasionally occur in real life, and which he had learned through hismission class. The tale was so full of lights and shadows that now itprovoked to laughter, and again almost moved the listeners to tears. While the narrator made as little reference to himself as possible, heunconsciously and of necessity revealed how practically and vitallyuseful he was to the class among whom he was working. Partly to draw himout, and partly to learn more about certain characters in whom she hadbecome interested, Mrs. Arnot asked after one and another of Haldane's"difficult cases. " As his replies suggested inevitably something oftheir dark and revolting history, Laura again forgot herself so far asto exclaim:

"How can you work among such people?"

After the words were spoken she was already to wish that she had bittenher tongue out. 

"Christ worked among them, " replied he gravely, and then he added, witha look of grateful affection toward Mrs. Arnot, "Besides, your aunt hastaught me by a happy experience that there are some possibilities of achange for the better in 'such people. '"

"Mr. Haldane, " said Laura impetuously, and with a burning flush, "Isincerely beg your pardon. As you were speaking you seemed so like myaunt in refinement and character that you banished every otherassociation from my mind. "

His face lighted up with a strong expression of pleasure, and he said:

"I am glad that those words are so heartily uttered, and that there isno premeditation in them; for if in the faintest and furthest degree Ican even resemble Mrs. Arnot, I shall feel that I am indeed makingprogress. "

"I shall say what is in my mind without any constraint whatever, " saidMrs. Arnot. "Years ago, Egbert, when once visiting you in prison, towhich you had been sent very justly, I said in effect, that in risingabove yourself and your circumstances, you would realize my ideal ofknighthood. You cannot know with what deep pleasure I tell you to-nightthat you are realizing this ideal even beyond my hopes. "

"Mrs. Arnot, " replied Haldane, in a tone that trembled slightly, "I wasjustly sent to that prison, and to-night, no doubt, I should have beenin some other prison-house of human justice--quite possibly, " he added, in a low, shuddering tone, "in the prison-house of God's justice--if youhad not come like an angel of mercy--if you had not borne with me, taught me, restrained me, helped me with a patience closely akin toHeaven's own. It is the hope and prayer of my life that I may some dayprove how I appreciate all that you have done for me. But, see; thestorm is over, as all storms will be in time. Good-night, and good-by, "and he lifted her hand to his lips in a manner that was at once so fullof homage and gratitude, and also the grace of natural and unstudiedaction, that there came a rush of tears into the lady's eyes. 

Laura held out her hand and said: "Mr. Haldane, you cannot respect memore than you have taught me to respect you. "

He shook his head at these words, involuntarily intimating that she didnot know, and never could, but departed without trusting himself toreply. 

The ladies sat quite a long time in silence. At length Laura remarkedwith a sigh:

"Mr. Haldane is mistaken. The ice is thin here and there, but I had noidea that there were such depths beneath it"

Mrs. Arnot did not reply at once, and when she did perhaps she had inmind other experiences than those of her young friend, for she only saidin a low musing tone:

"Yes, he is right. All storms will be over in time. "

CHAPTER XLIX

A KNIGHTLY DEED

The year previous Haldane had buried himself among the mountains ofMaine, but he resolved to spend much of the present summer in the cityof New York, studying such works of art as were within his reach, haunting the cool, quiet libraries, and visiting the hospitals, givingto the last, as a medical student, the most of his time. He foundhimself more lonely and isolated among the numberless strange faces thanhe had been in the northern forests. He also went to his native city forthe purpose of visiting Dr. Marks, and as the family mansion was closed, took a room at the hotel. His old acquaintances stood far aloof atfirst, but when Dr. Marks carried him off with friendly violence to theparsonage, and kept him there as a welcome guest, those who had knownhim or his family concluded that they could shake hands with him, andmany took pains to do so, and to congratulate him on the course he wastaking. Dr. Marks' parsonage was emphatically the Interpreter's house tohim, and after a brief visit he returned to New York more encouragedwith the hope that he would eventually retrieve the past than ever hehad been before. 

But events now occurred which promised to speedily blot out allpossibility of an earthly future. In answer to his letter describing hisvisit to Dr. Marks, he received from Mrs. Arnot a brief note, sayingthat the warm weather had affected her very unfavorably, and that shewas quite ill and had been losing strength for some weeks. On thisground he must pardon her brief reply. Her closing words were, "Persevere, Egbert. In a few years more the best homes in the land willbe open to you, and you can choose your society from those who arehonorable here and will be honored hereafter. "

There were marks of feebleness in the handwriting, and Haldane's anxietywas so strongly aroused in behalf of his friend that he returned toHillaton at once, hoping, however, that since the heats of August werenearly over, the bracing breath of autumn would bring renewed strength. 

After being announced he was shown directly up to Mrs. Arnot's privateparlor, and he found himself where, years before, he had first met hisfriend. The memory of the bright, vivacious lady who had thenentertained him with a delicate little lunch, while she suggested how hemight make his earliest venture out into the world successful, flashedinto his mind, with thronging thoughts of all that had since occurred;but now he was pained to see that his friend reclined feebly on herlounge, and held out her hand without rising. 

"I am glad you have come, " she said with quiet emphasis, "for yoursympathy will be welcome, although, like others, you can do nothing forus in our trouble. "

"Mrs. Arnot, " he exclaimed in a tone of deep distress, "you are notseriously ill?"

"No, " she replied, "that is not it. I'm better, or will be soon, Ithink. Laura, dear, light the gas, please, and Egbert can read thetelegrams for himself. You once met my sister, Mrs. Poland, who residesin the South, I think. "

"Yes, I remember her very well. There was something about her face thathaunted me for months afterward. "

"Amy was once very beautiful, but ill-health has greatly Changed her. "

In the dusk of the evening Haldane had not seen Laura and Mr. Beaumont, as he entered, and he now greeted them with a quiet bow; but Laura cameand gave him her hand, saying:

"We did not expect you to return so soon, Mr. Haldane. "

"After hearing that Mrs. Arnot was ill I could not rest till I had seenher, and I received her note only this morning. "

He now saw that both Laura's eyes and Mrs. Arnot's were red withweeping. 

The latter, in answer to his questioning, troubled face, said: "Theyellow fever has broken out in the city where my sister resides. Herhusband, Mr. Poland, has very important business interests there, whichhe could not drop instantly. She would not leave him, and Amy, herdaughter, would not leave her mother. Indeed, before they were aware oftheir danger the disease had become epidemic, and Mr. Poland wasstricken down. The first telegram is from my sister, and states thisfact; the second there is from my niece, and it breaks my heart to readit, " and she handed it to him and he read as follows:

"The worst has happened. Father very low. Doctor gives little hope. Ialmost fear for mother's mind. The city in panic--our helpleaving--medical attendance uncertain. It looks as if I should be leftalone, and I helpless. What shall I do?"

"Was there ever a more pathetic cry of distress?" said Mrs. Arnot, withanother burst of grief. "Oh that I were strong and well, and I would flyto them at once. "

"Do you think I could do any good by going?" asked Laura, steppingforward eagerly, but very pale. 

"No, " interposed Mr. Beaumont, with sharp emphasis; "you would onlybecome an additional burden, and add to the horrors of the situation. "

"Mr. Beaumont is right; but you are a noble woman even to think of sucha thing, " said Haldane, and he gave her a look of such strong feelingand admiration that a little color came into her white cheeks. 

"She does not realize what she is saying, " added Mr. Beaumont. "It wouldbe certain death for an unacclimated Northener to go down there now. "

Laura grew very pale again. She had realized what she was saying, andwas capable of the sacrifice; but the man who had recognized andappreciated her heroism was not the one who held her plighted troth. 

Paying no heed to Beaumont's last remark, Haldane snatched up the dailypaper that lay upon the table, and turned hastily to a certain place fora moment, then, looking at his watch, exclaimed eagerly:

"I can do it if not a moment is wasted. The express train for the Southleaves in an hour, and it connects with all the through lines. MissRomeyn, please write for me, on your card, an introduction to yourcousin, Miss Poland, and I will present it, with the offer of myassistance, at the earliest possible moment. "

"Egbert, no!" said Mrs. Arnot, with strong emphasis, and rising from hercouch, though so ill and feeble. "I will not permit you to sacrificeyour life for comparative strangers. "

He turned and took her hand in both of his, and said:

"Mrs. Arnot, there is no time for remonstrance, and it is useless. _Iam going_, and no one shall prevent me. " Then he added, in tones andwith a look of affection which she never forgot, "Deeply as I regretthis sad emergency, I would not, for ten times the value of my life, lose the opportunity it gives me. I can now show you a small part of mygratitude by serving those you love. Besides, as you say, that telegramis such a pathetic cry of distress that, were you all strangers, I wouldobey its unconscious command. But haste, the card!"

"Egbert, you are excited; you do not realize what you are saying!" criedthe agitated lady. 

He looked at her steadily for a moment, and then said, in a tone soquiet and firm that it ended all remonstrance, "I realize fully what Iam doing, and it is my right to decide upon my own action. To you, atleast, I never broke my word, and I assure you that I will go. MissRomeyn, will you oblige me by instantly writing that card? Your aunt isnot able to write it. "

His manner was so authoritative that Laura wrote with a trembling hand:

"The bearer is a very dear friend of aunt's. How brave and noblea man he is you can learn from the fact that he comes to your aid now. In deepest sympathy and love, "LAURA. "

"Good-by, my dear, kind friend, " said Haldane cheerily to Mrs. Arnotwhile Laura was writing; "you overrate the danger. I feel that I shallreturn again, and if I do not, there are many worse evils than dying. "

"Your mother, " said Mrs. Arnot, with a low sob. 

"I shall write to her a long letter on the way and explain everything. "

"She will feel that it never can be explained. "

"I cannot help it, " replied the young man resolutely; "I know that I amdoing right, or my conscience is of no use to me whatever. "

Mrs. Arnot put her arms around his neck as if she were his mother, andsaid in low, broken tones:

"God bless you, and go with you, my true knight; nay, let me call you myown dear son this once. I will thank you in heaven for all this, if nothere, " and then she kissed him again and again. 

"You have now repaid me a thousand-fold, " he faltered, and then brokeaway. 

"Mr. Haldane, " said Laura tearfully, as he turned to her, "Cousin Amyand I have been the closest friends from childhood, and I cannot tellyou how deeply I appreciate your going to her aid. I could not expect abrother to take such a risk. "

Haldane felt that his present chance to look into Laura's face might behis last, and again, before he was aware, he let his eyes reveal all hisheart. She saw as if written in them, "A brother might not be willing totake the risk, but I am. "

"Do I then render you a special service?" he asked, in a low tone. 

"You could not render me a greater one. "

"Why, this is better than I thought, " he said. "How fortunate I was incoming this evening! There, please do not look so distressed. A soldiertakes such risks as these every day, and never thinks of them. You havebefore you a happy life, Miss Laura, and I am very, very glad. Goodcourage, and good-by, " and his manner now was frank, cheerful, andbrotherly. 

She partly obeyed an impulse to speak, but checked it, and tremblinglybent her head; but the pressure she gave his hand meant more than he oreven she herself understood at the time. 

"Good-by, Mr. Beaumont, " he said, hurriedly. "I need not wish youhappiness, since you already possess it;" and he hastened from the roomand the house without once looking back. 

A moment later they heard his rapid resolute tread echoing from thestony pavement, but it speedily died away. 

Laura listened breathlessly at the window until the faintest soundceased. She had had her wish. She had seen a man who was good enough andbrave enough to face any danger to which he felt impelled by a chivalricsense of duty. She had seen a man depart upon as knightly an expeditionas any of which she had ever read, but it was not her knight. 

"This young Haldane is a brave fellow, and I had no idea that there wasso much of him, " remarked Mr. Beaumont in his quiet and refined tones. "Really, take it all together, this has been a scene worthy of the brushof a great painter. "

"Oh, Auguste!" exclaimed Laura; "how can you look only on the aestheticside of such a scene?" And she threw herself into a low chair and sobbedas if her heart would break. 

Mr. Beaumont was much perplexed, for he found that all of his elegantplatitudes were powerless either to comfort or to soothe her. 

"Leave her with me, " said Mrs. Arnot. "The excitements of the day havebeen too much for her. She will be better to-morrow. "

Mr. Beaumont was glad to obey. He had been accustomed from childhood toleave all disagreeable duties to others, and he thought that Laura hadbecome a trifle hysterical. "A little lavender and sleep is all that sherequires, " he remarked to himself as he walked home in the starlight. "But, by Jove! she is more lovely in tears than in smiles. "

That he, Auguste Beaumont, should risk the loss of her and all his otherpossessions by exposing his precious person to a loathsome disease didnot enter his mind. 

"Oh, auntie, auntie, I would rather have gone myself and died, than feelas I do to-night, " sobbed Laura. 

"'Courage' was Egbert's last word to you, Laura, " said Mrs. Arnot, "andcourage and faith must be our watchwords now. We must act, too, and atonce. Please tell your uncle I wish a draft for five hundred dollarsimmediately, and explain why. Then inclose it in a note to Egbert, andsee that Michael puts it in his hands at the depot. Write to Egbert notto spare money where it may be of any use, or can secure any comfort. Wecannot tell how your aunt Amy is situated, and money is always useful. We must telegraph to your Cousin Amy that a friend is coming. Let usrealize what courage, prayer, and faith can accomplish. Action will doyou good, Laura. "

The girl sprang to her feet and carried out her aunt's wishes withprecision. That was the kind of "lavender" which her nature required. 

After writing all that her aunt dictated, she added on her own part:

If the knowledge that I honor you above other men can sustain you, restassured that this is true; if my sympathy and constant remembrance canlighten your burdens, know that you and those you serve will rarely beabsent from my thoughts. You make light of your heroic act. To me it isa revelation. I did not know that men could be so strong and noble inour day. Whether such words are right or conventional, I have not eventhought. My heart is full and I must speak them. That God may bless you, aid you in serving those I love so dearly, and return you in safety, will be my constant prayer. 

Auntie falters out one more message, "Tell Egbert that sister Amy'shousehold have not our faith; suggest it, teach it if you can. "Farewell, truest of friends. LAURA ROMEYN. 

Mr. Growther was asleep in his chair when Haldane entered, and he stoleby him and made preparations for departure with silent celerity. Then, valise in hand, he touched his old friend, who started up, andexclaimed:

"Lord a' massy, where did you come from, and where yer goin'? You lookkinder sperit like. I say, am I awake? I was dreamin' you was startin'off to kill somebody. "

"Dreams go by contraries. It may be a long time before we meet again. But we shall have many a good talk over old times, if not here, why, inthe better home, for your 'peaked-faced little chap' will surely leadyou there, " and he explained all in a few brief sentences. "And now, mykind, true friend, good-by. I thank you from my heart for the shelteryou have given me, and for your stanch friendship when friends were sofew. You have done all that you could to make a man of me, and now thatyou won't have time to quarrel with me about it, I tell you to your facethat you are not a mean man. There are few larger-hearted, larger-souledmen in this city, " and before the bewildered old gentleman could reply, he was gone. 

"Lord a' massy, Lord a' massy, " groaned Mr. Growther, "the bottom isjest fallin' out o' everything. If he dies with the yellow-jack I'll gitto cussin' as bad as ever. "

Haldane found Mrs. Arnot's coachman at the depot with the letter Laurahad written. As he read it his face flushed with the deepest pleasure. Having a few moments to spare, he pencilled hastily:

"MISS ROMEYN--I have received from Michael the letter with the draft. Say to Mrs. Arnot I shall obey both the letter and spirit of herinstructions. Let me add for myself that my best hopes are more thanfulfilled. That you, who know all my past, could write such words seemslike a heavenly dream. But I assure you that you overestimate both thecharacter of my action and the danger. It is all plain, simple duty, which hundreds of men would perform as a matter of course. I ask but onefavor, please look after Mr. Growther. He is growing old and feeble; Iowe him so much--Mrs. Arnot will tell you. Yours--"

"He couldn't write a word more, Miss, the train was a movin' when hejumped on, " said Michael when he delivered the note. 

But that final word had for Laura no conventional meaning. She had longknown that Haldane was, in truth, hers, and she had deeply regretted thefact, and would at any time have willingly broken the chain that boundhim, had it been in her power. Would she break it to-night? Yes, unhesitatingly; but it would now cost her a pain to do so, which, atfirst, she would not understand. On that stormy July evening when shegave Haldane a little private concert she had obtained a glimpse of amanhood unknown to her before, and it was full of pleasing suggestion. To-night that same manhood which is at once so strong, and yet sounselfish and gentle, had stood out before her distinct and luminous inthe light of a knightly deed, and she saw with the absoluteness ofirresistible conviction that such a manhood was above and beyond allsurface polish, all mere aesthetic culture, all earthly rank--that itwas something that belonged to God, and partook of the eternity of hisgreatness and permanence. 

By the kindred and noble possibilities of her own womanly nature, shewas of necessity deeply interested in such a man, having once recognizedhim; and now for weeks she must think of him as consciously serving herin the most knightly way and at the hourly risk of his life, and yethoping for no greater reward than her esteem and respect. While she knewthat he would have gone eagerly for her aunt's sake, and might have gonefrom a mere sense of duty, she had been clearly shown that the thoughtof serving her had turned his dangerous task into a privilege and a joy. Could she follow such a man daily and hourly with her thoughts, couldshe in vivid imagination watch his self-sacrificing efforts to ministerto, and save those she loved, with only the cool, decorous interest thatMr. Beaumont would deem proper in the woman betrothed to himself? Thefuture must answer this question. 

When Haldane had asked for a ticket to the southern city to which he wasdestined, the agent stared at him a moment and said:

"Don't you know yellow fever is epidemic there?"

"Yes, " replied Haldane with such cold reserve of manner that no furtherquestions were asked; but the fact that he, a medical student, hadbought a ticket for the plague-stricken city was stated in the "Courier"the following morning. His old friend Mr. Ivison soon informed himselfof the whole affair, and in a glowing letter of eulogy made itimpossible for any one to charge that Mrs. Arnot had asked the young manto go to the aid of her relatives at such tremendous personal risk. Indeed it was clearly stated, with the unimpeachable Mr. Beaumont asauthority, that she had entreated him not to go, and had not theslightest expectation of his going until he surprised her by hisunalterable decision. 

After reading and talking over this letter, sustained as it had been byyears of straightforward duty, even good society concluded that it couldsocially recognize and receive this man; and yet, as the old lady hadremarked, there was still an excellent prospect that he would enterheaven before he found a welcome to the exclusive circles of Hillaton. 

CHAPTER L

"O DREADED DEATH!"

Haldane found time in the enforced pauses of his journey to write a longand affectionate letter to his mother, explaining all, and asking herforgiveness again, as he often had before. He also wrote to Mrs. Arnot acheerful note, in which he tried to put his course in the most ordinaryand matter-of-fact light possible, saying that as a medical student itwas the most natural thing in the world for him to do. 

As he approached the infected city he had the train chiefly to himself, and he saw that the outgoing trains were full, and when at last hewalked its streets it reminded him of a household of which some memberis very ill, or dead, and the few who were moving about walked as ifunder a sad constraint and gloom. On most faces were seen evidences ofanxiety and trouble, while a few were reckless. 

Having obtained a carriage, he was driven to Mr. Poland's residence in asuburb. He dismissed the carriage at the gate, preferring to quietlyannounce himself. The sultry day was drawing to a close as he walked upthe gravelled drive that led to the house. Not even the faintest zephyrstirred the luxuriant tropical foliage that here and there shadowed hispath, and yet the stillness and quiet of nature did not suggest peaceand repose so much as it did death. The motionless air, heavily ladenwith a certain dead sweetness of flowers from the neighboring garden, might well bring to mind the breathless silence and the heavy atmosphereof the chamber in which the lifeless form and the fading funeral wreathare perishing together. 

So oppressed was Haldane he found himself walking softly and mountingthe steps of the piazza with a silent tread, as if he were in truthapproaching the majesty of death. Before he could ring the bell therecame from the parlor a low, sad prelude, played on a small reed organthat had been built in the room, and then a contralto voice of peculiarsweetness sang the following words with such depth of feeling that onefelt that they revealed the innermost emotion of the heart:

O priceless life! warm, throbbing life, With thought and love andpassion rife, I cling to thee. Thou art an isle in the ocean wide; Thouart a barque above the tide; How vague and void is all beside! I clingto thee. 

O dreaded death! cold, pallid death, Despair is in thy icy breath; Ishrink from thee. What victims wilt thou next enroll? Thou hast a terrorfor my soul Which will nor reason can control; I shrink from thee. 

Then followed a sound that was like a low sob. This surely was Amy, Laura's cousin-friend, and already she had won the whole sympathy of hisheart. 

After ringing the bell he heard her step, and then she paused, as herightly surmised, to wipe away the thickly falling tears. He was almoststartled when she appeared before him, for the maiden had inherited thepeculiar and striking beauty of her mother. Sorrow and watching hadbrought unusual pallor to her cheeks; but her eyes were so large, sodark and intense, that they suggested spirit rather than flesh andblood. 

"I think that this is Miss Poland, " commenced Haldane in a manner thatwas marked by both sympathy and respect, and he was about to hand herhis card of introduction, when she stepped eagerly forward and took hishand, saying: "You are Mr. Haldane. I know it at a glance. "

"Yes, and wholly at your service. "

Still retaining his hand, she looked for a second into his face, as ifshe would read his soul and gauge the compass of his nature; so intentand penetrating was her gaze, that Haldane felt that if there had beenany wavering or weakness on his part she would have known it as truly ashimself. 

Her face suddenly lighted up with gratitude and friendliness, and shesaid, earnestly:

"I _do_ thank you for coming. I had purposed asking you not to takeso great a risk for us, but to return; for, to be frank with you, ourphysician has told me that your risk is terribly great; but I see thatyou are one that would not turn back. "

"You are right, Miss Poland. " Then he added, with a frank smile, "Thereis nothing terrible to me in the risk you speak of. I honestly feel it aprivilege to come to your aid, and I have but one request to make: thatyou will let me serve you in any way and every way possible. By anyhesitancy and undue delicacy in this respect you will greatly pain me. "

"Oh!" she exclaimed in a low and almost passionate tone, "I am so gladyou have come, for I was almost desperate. "

"Your father?" asked Haldane very gravely. 

"He is more quiet, and I try to think he is better, but doctor won't saythat he is. Ah, there he is coming now. "

A carriage drove rapidly to the door, and the physician sprang up thesteps as if the hours were short for the increasing pressure of hiswork. 

"Miss Amy, why are you here yet? I hoped that you and your little sisterwere on your way to the mountains, " he said, taking her hand. 

"Please do not speak of it again, " she replied. "I cannot leave fatherand mother, and Bertha, you know, is too young and nervous a child to beforced to go away alone. We must all remain together, and hope the bestfrom your skill. "

"God knows I'm doing all in my power to save my dear old friend Poland, "said the physician huskily, and then he shook his head as if he hadlittle hope. "How is he now?"

"Better, I think. Dr. Orton, this is the friend of whom I spoke, Mr. Haldane. "

"You have always lived at the North?" asked the physician, looking theyoung man over with a quick glance. 

"Yes, sir. "

"Do you realize the probable consequences of this exposure to one notacclimated?"

"Dr. Orton, I am a medical student, and I have come to do my duty, whichhere will be to carry out strictly your directions. I have only one deepcause for anxiety, and that is that I may be taken with the diseasebefore I can be of much use. So please give me work at once. "

"Give me your hand, old fellow. You do our profession credit, if notfully fledged. You are right, we must all do what we can while we can, for the Lord only knows how many hours are left to any of us. But, Amy, my dear, it makes me feel like praying and swearing in the same breathto find you still in this infernal city. A friend promised to call thismorning and take you and your sister away. "

"We cannot go. "

"Well, well, as long as the old doctor is above ground he will try totake care of you; and this young gentleman can be invaluable if he canhold on for a while before following too general a fashion. Come, sir, Iwill install you as nurse at once. "

"Doctor, Doctor Orton, what have you brought for me?" cried a childishvoice and a little girl, fair and blue-eyed, came fluttering down thestairs, intercepting them on the way to Mr. Poland's room. 

"Ah! there's my good little fairy, " said the kind-hearted man, takingher in his arms and kissing her. "Look in my pockets, little one, andsee what you can find. "

With delightful unconsciousness of the shadows around her the childfumbled in his pockets and soon pulled out a picture-book. 

"No candy yet?" she exclaimed in disappointment. 

"No candy at all, Bertha, nothing but good plain food till next winter. You make sure of this, I suppose, " he said significantly to the eldersister. 

"Yes, as far as possible. I will wait for you here. "

They ascended to a large airy room on the second floor. Even to Haldane, Mr. Poland appeared far down in the dark valley; but he was in thatquiet and conscious state which follows the first stage of the fever, which in his case, owing to his vigorous frame, had been unusuallyprolonged. 

Without a word the doctor felt the sick man's pulse, who bent upon himhis questioning eyes. From the further side of the bed, Mrs. Poland, sitting feebly in her chair, also fixed upon the physician the sameintense searching gaze that Haldane had sustained from the daughter. Dr. Orton looked for a moment into her pale, thin face, which might havebeen taken as a model for agonized anxiety, and then looked away again, for he could not endure its expression. 

"Orton, tell me the truth; no wincing now, " said Mr. Poland in low, thick utterance. 

"My dear old friend, it cuts me to the heart to say it, but if you haveanything special that you would like to say to your family I think youhad better say it now. "

"Then I am going to die, " said the man and both his tone and face werefull of awe; while poor Mrs. Poland looked as if _in extremis_ herself. 

"This return and rapid rise of fever at this late day looks very bad, "said the physician, gloomily, "and you insisted on knowing the truth. "

"You ever were an honest friend, Orton; I know you have done your bestfor me, and, although worked to death, have come to see me often. Ileave my family in your charge. God grant I may be the only one tosuffer. May I see the children?"

"Yes, a few moments; but I do not wish them to be in this room long. "

"Don't go just yet, Orton. I--to tell you the truth, I feel that dyingis rather serious business, and you and I have always taken lifesomewhat as a good joke. Call the girls. "

They came and stood by their mother. Amy was beyond tears, but littleBertha could not understand it, and with difficulty could be kept fromclambering upon the bed to her father. 

"Amy's naughty, she keeps me away from you, papa. I've been wanting tosee you all day, and Amy won't let me. "

The doctor and Haldane retired to the hallway. 

There was an unutterable look in the dying man's eyes as he fixed themon the little group. 

"How can I leave you? how can I leave you?" he groaned. 

At this the child began to cry, and again struggled to reach her father. She was evidently his idol, and he prayed, "Wherever I go--whateverbecomes of me, God grant I may see that child again. "

"Mother, " he said (he always called his wife by that endearing name), "I'm sure you are mistaken. I want to see you all again with suchintense longing that I feel I shall. This life can't be all. My heartsrevolts at it. It's fiendish cruelty to tear asunder forever those wholove as we do. As I told you before, I'm going to take my chances--withthe publican. Oh! that some one could make a prayer! Orton!" he calledfeebly. 

The doctor entered, leaving the door open. 

"Couldn't you offer a short prayer? You may think it unmanly in me, butI am in sore straits, and I want to see these loved ones again. "

"Haldane, " cried Dr. Orton, "here, offer a prayer, for God's sake, ifyou can. I feel as if I were choking. "

Without any hesitancy or mannerism the Christian man knelt at Mr. Poland's bedside and offered as simple and natural a prayer as he wouldhave spoken to the Divine Man in person had he gone to him in Judea, centuries ago, in behalf of a friend. His faith was so absolute that hethat was petitioned became a living presence to those who listened. 

"God bless you, whoever you are, " said the sick man. "Oh, that does megood! It's less dark. It seems to me that I've got hold of a hand thatcan sustain me. "

"Bress de Lord!" ejaculated an old negress who sat in a distant corner. 

"I install this young man as your nurse to-night, " said Dr. Orton, huskily; "I'll be here in the morning. Come, little girls, go now. "

"We shall meet again, Amy; we shall meet again, Bertie, darling;remember papa said it and believed it. "

Haldane saw a strange blending of love and terror in Amy's eyes as sheled her little and bewildered sister from the room. 

Dr. Orton took him one side and rapidly gave his directions. "Hispulse, " he said, "indicates that he may be violent during the night; ifso, induce Mrs. Poland to retire, if possible. I doubt if he lives tillmorning. " He then told Haldane of such precautions as he should take forhis own safety, and departed. 

The horrors of that night cannot be portrayed. As the fever rose higherand higher, all evidence of the kind, loving husband and fatherperished, and there remained only a disease-tortured body. The awfulblack vomit soon set in. The strong physical nature in its dying throestaxed Haldane's powerful strength to the utmost, and only by constanteffort and main force could he keep the sufferer in his bed. Mrs. Polandand the old colored woman who assisted her would have been totallyunequal to the occasion. Indeed, the wife was simply appalled andoverwhelmed with grief and horror, for the poor man, unconscious of allsave pain, and in accordance with a common phase of the disease, filledthe night with unearthly cries and shrieks. But before the morningdawned, instead of tossing and delirium there was the calm serenity ofdeath. 

As Haldane composed the form for its last sleep he said:

"My dear Mrs. Poland, your faithful watch is ended, your husband suffersno more; now, surely you will yield to my entreaty and go to your room. I will see that everything is properly attended to. "

The poor woman was bending over her husband's ashes, almost asmotionless as they, and her answer was a low cry as she fell across hisbody in a swoon. 

Haldane lifted her gently up, and carried her from the room. 

Crouching at the door of the death-chamber, her eyes dilated withhorror, he found poor Amy. 

"Is mother dead also?" she gasped. 

"No, Miss Amy. She only needs your care to revive speedily. Please leadthe way to your mother's apartment. "

"I think there is a God, and that he sent you" she whispered. 

"You are right, " he replied, in the natural hearty tone which is sopotent in reassuring the terror-stricken. "Courage, Miss Amy; all willbe well at last. Now let me help you like a brother, and when yourmother revives, I will give her something to make her sleep; I then wishyou to sleep also. "

The poor lady revived after a time, and tried to rise that she mightreturn to her husband's room, but fell back in utter weakness. 

"Mrs. Poland, " said Haldane gently, "you can do no good there. You mustlive for your children now. "

She soon was sleeping under the influence of an opiate. 

"Will you rest, too, Miss Amy?" asked Haldane. 

"I will try, " she faltered; but her large, dark eyes looked as if theynever would close again. 

Returning to the room over which so deep a hush had fallen, Haldane gavea few directions to the old negress whom he left in charge, and thensought the rest he so greatly needed himself. 

CHAPTER LI

"O PRICELESS LIFE!"

When Haldane came down the following morning he found Bertha playing onthe piazza as unconscious of the loss of her father as the birds singingamong the trees of their master. Amy soon joined them, and Haldane sawthat her eyes had the same appealing and indescribable expression, bothof sadness and terror, reminding one of some timid and beautiful animalthat had been brought to bay by an enemy that was feared inexpressibly, but from which there seemed no escape. 

He took her hand with a strong and reassuring pressure. 

"Oh, " she exclaimed with a slight shudder, "how can the sun shine? Thebirds, too, are singing as if there were no death and sorrow in theworld. "

"Only a perfect faith, Miss Amy, can enable us, who do know there isdeath and sorrow, to follow their example. "

"It's all a black mystery to me, " she replied, turning away. 

"So it was to me once. "

An old colored man, the husband of the negress who had assisted Haldanein his watch, now appeared and announced breakfast. 

It was a comparatively silent meal, little Bertha doing most of thetalking. Amy would not have touched a mouthful had it not been forHaldane's persuasion. 

As soon as Bertha had finished, she said to Haldane:

"Amy told me that you did papa ever so much good last evening: now Iwant to see him right away. "

"Does she not know?" asked Haldane in a low tone. 

Amy shook her head. "It's too awful. What can I tell her?" she faltered. 

"It is indeed inexpressibly sad, but I think I can tell the childwithout its seeming awful to her, and yet tell her the truth, " hereplied. "Shall I try to explain?"

"Yes, and let me listen, too, if you can rob the event of any of itsunutterable horror. "

"Will Bertie come and listen to me if I will tell her about papa?"

The child climbed into his lap at once, and turned her large blue eyesup to his in perfect faith. 

"Don't you remember that papa spoke last night of leaving you; but saidyou would surely meet again?"

At this the child's lip began to quiver, and she said: "But papa alwayscomes and kisses me good-by before he goes away. "

"Perhaps he did, Bertie, when you were asleep in your crib last night. "

"Oh yes, now I'm sure he did if he's gone away, 'cause I 'member he oncewoke me up kissing me good-by. "

"I think he kissed you very softly, and so you didn't wake. Our dearSaviour, Jesus, came last night, and papa went away with him. But heloves you just as much as ever, and he isn't sick any more, and you willsurely see him again. "

"Do you think he will bring me something nice when he comes?"

"When you see him again he will have for you, Bertie, more beautifulthings than you ever saw before in all your life, but it may be a longtime before you see him. "

The child slipped down from his knees quite satisfied and full ofpleasant anticipation, and went back to her play on the piazza. 

"Do you believe all that?" asked Amy, looking as if Bertha had been tolda fairy tale. 

"I do, indeed. I have told the child what I regard as the highest formof the truth, though expressed in simple language. Miss Amy, I know thatyour father was ever kind to you. Did he ever turn coldly away from anyearnest appeal of yours?"

"Never, never, " cried the girl, with a rush of tears. 

"And can you believe that his Heavenly Father turned from his touchingappeal last night? Christ said to those who were trusting in him, 'Iwill come again and receive you unto myself; that where I am there yemay be also. ' As long as your father was conscious, he was clinging tothat divine hand that has never failed one true believer in all thesecenturies. Surely, Miss Amy, your own reason tells you that the poorhelpless form that we must bury today is not your father. The genialspirit, the mind that was a power out in the world, the soul with itsnoble and intense affections and aspirations--these made the man thatwas your father. Therefore I say with truth that the man, theimperishable part, has gone away with him who loved humanity, and whohas prepared a better place for us than this earth can ever be under themost favoring circumstances. You can understand that the body is but thechanging, perishing shadow. 

"When you compare the poor, disease-shattered house in yonder room, withthe regal spirit that dwelt within it, when you compare that prostrateform--which, like a fallen tree in the forest, is yielding to theuniversal law of change--with the strong, active, intelligent man thatwas your father, do not your very senses assure you that your father hasgone away, and, as I told Bertha, you will surely see him again? It mayseem to you that what I said about the good-by kiss was but a fiction tosoothe the child, but in my belief it was not. Though we know withcertainty so little of the detail of the life beyond, we have two goodgrounds on which to base reasonable conjecture. We know of God's love;we know your father's love; now what would be natural in view of thesetwo facts? I think we can manage to keep Bertha from seeing that whichis no longer her father, and thus every memory of him will be pleasant. We will leave intact the impression which he himself made when he actedconsciously, for this which now remains is not himself at all. "

Further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Dr. Orton; butHaldane saw that Amy had grasped at his words as one might try to catcha rope that was being lowered to him in some otherwise hopeless abyss. 

"I feared that such might be the end, " said the doctor, gloomily, onlearning from Haldane the events of the night; "it frequently is inconstitutions like his. " Then he went up and saw Mrs. Poland. 

The lady's condition gave him much anxiety, but he kept it to himselfuntil they were alone. After leaving quieting medicines for her withAmy, and breaking utterly down in trying to say a few words of comfortto the fatherless girl, he motioned to Haldane to follow him. 

"Come with me to the city, " he said, "and we will arrange for suchdisposal of the remains as is best. "

Having informed Amy of the nature of his errand, and promising totelegraph Mrs. Arnot, Haldane accompanied the physician to the businesspart of town. 

"You have been a godsend to them, " said the kind-hearted old doctor, blowing his nose furiously. "This case comes a little nearer home thanany that has yet occurred; but then the bottom is just falling out ofeverything, and it looks as if we would all go before we have a frost. It seems to me, though, that I can stand anything rather than see Amygo. She is engaged to a nephew of mine--as fine a fellow as there is intown, if I do say it, and I love the girl as if she were my own child. My nephew is travelling in Europe now, and I doubt if he knows thedanger hanging over the girl. If anything happens to her it will aboutkill him, for he idolizes her, and well he may. I'm dreadfully anxiousabout them all. I fear most for Mrs. Poland's mind. She's a New Englandlady, as I suppose you know--wonderfully gifted woman, too much brainpower for that fragile body of hers. Well, perhaps you did notunderstand all that was said last night; but Mrs. Poland has always beena great reader, and she has been carried away by the materialisticphilosophy that's in fashion nowadays. Queer, isn't it? and shetwo-thirds spirit herself. Her husband and my best friend was as genialand whole-souled a man as ever lived, fond of a good dinner, fond of ajoke, and fond of his family to idolatry. His wife had unboundedinfluence over him, or otherwise he might have been a little fast; buthe always laughed at what he called her 'Yankee notions, ' and said hewould not accept her philosophy until she became a little more materialherself. Poland was a square, successful business man, but I fear he didnot lay up much. He was too open-hearted and free-handed--a typicalSoutherner I suppose you would say at the North, that is, those of youwho don't think of us as all slave-drivers and slave-traders. I expectthe North and South will have to have a good, square, stand-up fightbefore they understand each other. "

"God forbid!" ejaculated Haldane. 

"Well, I don't think you and I will ever quarrel. You may call us whatyou please if you will take care of Poland's family. "

"I have already learned to have a very thorough respect both for yourhead and heart, Doctor Orton. "

"I'm considerably worse than they average down here. But as I wastelling you, Mrs. Poland was a New England woman, and to humor her herhusband employed such white servants as could be got in the city, andpoor trash they were most of the time. When the fever appeared they leftinstantly. Poland bought the old colored people who are there with theplace, and gave them their freedom, and only they have stood by them. What they would have done last night if you had not come, God onlyknows. Poor Amy, poor Amy!" sighed the old doctor tempestuously; "she'sthe prettiest and pluckiest little girl in the city. She's halffrightened out of her wits, I can see that, and yet nothing but forcecould get her away. For my nephew's sake and her own I tried hard toinduce her to go, but she stands her ground like a soldier. What is bestnow I hardly know. Mrs. Poland is so utterly prostrated that it mightcost her life to move her. Besides, they have all been so terriblyexposed to the disease that they might be taken with it on the journey, and to have them go wandering off the Lord knows where at this chaotictime looks to me about as bad as staying where they are, and I can lookafter them. But we'll see, we'll see. " And in like manner the sorelytroubled old gentleman talked rapidly on, till they reached theundertaker's, seemingly finding a relief in thus unburdening his heartto one of whose sympathy he felt sure, and who might thus be led to feela deeper interest in the objects of his charge. 

Even at that time of general disaster Haldane's abundant funds enabledhim to secure prompt attention. It was decided that Mr. Poland's remainsshould be placed in a receiving vault until such time as they could beremoved to the family burying-ground in another city, and before the dayclosed everything had been attended to in the manner which refinedChristian feeling would dictate. 

Before parting with Haldane, Doctor Orton had given him carefuldirections what to do in case he recognized symptoms of the fever in anyof the family or himself. "Keep Amy and Bertha with their mother all youcan, " he said; "anything to rouse the poor woman from that stony despairinto which she seems to have fallen. "

The long day at length came to an end. Haldane of necessity had beenmuch away, and he welcomed the cool and quiet evening; and yet he knewthat with the shadow of night, though so grateful after the glare andheat to which he had been subjected, the fatal pestilence approached thenearer, as if to strike a deadlier blow. As the pioneer forefathers ofthe city had shut their doors and windows at nightfall, lest theirsavage and lurking foes should send a fatal arrow from some duskycovert, so now again, with the close of the day, all doors and windowsmust be shut against a more subtle and remorseless enemy, whose viewlessshafts sped with a surer aim in darkness. 

Amy had spent much of the day in unburdening her heart in a long letterto her cousin Laura, in which in her own vivid way she portrayed thepart Haldane had acted toward them. She had also written to her distantand unconscious lover, and feeling that it might be the last time, shehad poured out to him a passion that was as intense and yet as pure asthe transparent flame that we sometimes see issuing from the heart ofthe hard-wood maple, as we sit brooding over our winter fire. 

"Come and sit with us, and as one of us, " she had said to Haldane, andso they had all gathered at the bedside of the widow, who had scarcelystrength to do more than fix her dark, wistful eyes on one and anotherof the group. She was so bewildered and overwhelmed with her loss thather mind had partially suspended its action. She saw and heardeverything; she remembered it all afterward; but now the very weight ofthe blow had so stunned her that she was mercifully saved from the agonyof full consciousness. 

Little Bertha climbed upon Haldane's lap and pleaded for a story. 

"Yes, Bertie, " he said, "and I think I know a story that you would like. You remember I told you that your papa had gone away with Jesus; wouldyou not like to hear a story about this good friend of your papa's?"

"Yes, yes, I would. Do you know much about him?"

"Quite a good deal, for he's my friend too. I know one true story abouthim that I often like to think of. Listen, and I will tell it to you. Jesus is the God who made us, and he lives 'way up above the sky. ' Buthe not only made us, Bertie, but he also loves us, and in order to showus how he loves us he is always coming to this world to do us good; andonce he came and lived here just like a man, so that we might all besure that he cared for us and wanted to make us good and happy. Well, atthat time when he lived here in this world as a man he had some truefriends who loved him and believed in him. At a certain time they wereall staying on the shore of a sea, and one evening Jesus told hisfriends to take a little boat and go over to the other side of the sea, and he would meet them there. Then Jesus, who wanted to be alone, wentup the side of the mountain that rose from the water's edge. Then nightcame and it began to grow darker and darker, and at last it was so darkthat the friends of Jesus that were in the boat could only see a verylittle way. Then a moaning, sighing wind began to rise, and the poor menin the boat saw that a storm was coming, and they pulled hard with theiroars in hopes of getting over on the other side before the storm becamevery bad; but by the time they reached the very middle of the sea, thewind began to blow furiously, just as you have seen it blow when thetrees bent 'way over toward the ground, and some perhaps were brokendown. A strong wind at sea makes the water rise up in waves, and thesewaves began to beat against the boat, and before very long some of thehighest ones would dash into it. The men pulled with their oars with alltheir might, but it was of no use; the wind was right against them, andthough they did their best hour after hour, they still could get nonearer the shore. How sad and full of danger was their condition! thedark, dark night was above and around them, the dark, angry wavesdashing by and over them, the cold, black depths of water beneath them, and no sound in their ears but the wild, rushing storm. What do youthink became of them?"

"I'm afraid they were drowned, " said Bertha, looking up with eyes thatwere full of fear and trouble. 

"Have you forgotten Jesus?"

"But he's 'way off on the side of the mountain. "

"He is never so far from his friends but that he can see them and knowall about them. He saw these friends in the boat, for Jesus can see inthe darkness as well as in the light; and when the night grew darkest, and the waves were highest, and his friends most weary and discouraged, he came to them so that they might know that he could save them, whenthey felt they could not save themselves. And he came as no other helpcould have come--walking over the very waves that threatened to swallowup his friends; and when he was near to them he called out, 'Be of goodcheer, it is I; be not afraid. ' Then he went right up to the boat andstepped into it among his friends. Oh! what a happy change his comingmade, for the winds ceased, the waves went down, and in a very littlewhile the boat reached the sea-shore. The bright sun rose up, thedarkness fled away, and the friends of Jesus were safe. They have beensafe ever since. Nothing can harm Jesus' friends. He takes care of themfrom day to day, from year to year, and from age to age. Whenever theyare in trouble or pain or danger he comes to them as he did to hisfriends in the boat, and he brings them safely through it all. Don't youthink he is a good friend to have?"

"Isn't I too little to be his friend?"

"No, indeed; no one ever loved little children as he does. He used totake them in his arms and bless them, and he said, 'Suffer them to cometo me'; and where he lives he has everything beautiful to make littlechildren happy. "

"And you say papa is with him?"

"Yes, papa is with him. "

"Why can't we all go to him now?"

"As soon as he is ready for us he will come for us. "

"I wish he was ready for mamma, Amy, and me now, and then we could allbe together. It's so lonely without papa. Oh! I'm so tired, " she addedafter a few moments, and a little later her head dropped againstHaldane's breast, and she was asleep. 

"Mr. Haldane, " said Amy in a low, agitated voice, "have you embodiedyour faith in that story to Bertha?"

"Yes, Miss Amy. "

"Why do you think"--and she hesitated. "How do you know, " she beganagain, "that any such Being as Jesus exists and comes to any one'shelp?"

"Granting that the story I have told you is true, how did his disciplesknow that he came to their help? Did not the hushed winds prove it? Didnot the quieted waters prove it? Did not his presence with them assurethem of it? By equal proof I know that he can and will come to the aidof those who look to him for aid. I have passed through darker nightsand wilder storms than ever lowered over the Sea of Galilee, and I knowby simple, practical, happy experience that Jesus Christ, through hisall-pervading Spirit, has come to me in my utter extremity again andagain, and that I have the same as felt his rescuing hand. Not that mytrials and temptations have been greater than those of many others, butI have been weaker than others, and I have often been conscious of hissustaining power when otherwise I would have sunk beneath my burden. This is not a theory, Miss Amy, nor the infatuation of a few ignorantpeople. It is the downright experience of multitudes in every walk oflife, and, on merely scientific grounds, is worth as much as any otherexperience. This story of Jesus gains the sympathy of little Bertha; italso commands the reverent belief of the most gifted and cultivatedminds in the world. "

"Oh, that I could believe all this; but there is so much mystery, somuch that is dark. " Then she glanced at her mother, who had turned awayher face and seemed to be sleeping, and she asked: "If Christ is sostrong to help and save, why is he not strong to prevent evil? Why isthere a cry of agony going up from this stricken city? Why must fatherdie who was everything to us? Why must mother suffer so? Why am I soshadowed by an awful fear? Life means so much to me. I love it, " shecontinued in low yet passionate tones. "I love the song of birds, thebreath of flowers, the sunlight, and every beautiful thing. I lovesensation. I am not one who finds a tame and tranquil pleasure in thethings I like or in the friends I love. My joys thrill every nerve andfibre of my being. I cling to them, I cannot give them up. A few daysago life was as full of rich promise to me as our tropical spring. It isstill, though I will never cease to feel the pain of this great sorrow, and yet this horrible pit of death, corruption, and nothingness yawns atmy very feet. Mr. Haldane, " she said in a still lower and moreshuddering tone, "I have a terrible presentiment that I shall perishwith this loathsome disease. I may seem to you, who are so quiet andbrave, very weak and cowardly; but I shrink from death with a dreadwhich you cannot understand and which no language can express. It isrepugnant to every instinct of my being, and I can think of it only withunutterable loathing. If I were old and feeble, if I had tasted all thejoys of life, I might submit, but not now, not now. I feel with fatherthat it is fiendish cruelty to give one such an intense love of life andthen wrench it away; and, passionately as I love life, there is one farmore dear. There is that in your nature which has so won my confidencethat I can reveal to you my whole heart. Mr. Haldane, I love one who islike you, manly and noble, and dearly as I prize life, I think I couldgive it away in slow torture for his sake, if required. How often myheart has thrilled to see his eyes kindle with his foolish admiration, the infatuation of love which makes its object beautiful at least to thelover. And now to think that he does not know what I suffer and fear, tothink that I may never see him again, to think that when he returns Imay be a hideous mass of corruption that he cannot even approach. Outupon the phrases 'beneficent nature, ' and 'natural law. ' Laws whichpermit such things are must unnatural, and to endow one with such a loveof life, such boundless capabilities of enjoying life, and then at thesupreme moment when the loss will be most bitterly felt to snatch itaway, looks to me more like the work of devilish ingenuity than of a'beneficent nature. ' I feel with father, it is fiendish cruelty. "

Haldane bowed his head among Bertha's curls to hide the tears that wouldcome at this desperate cry of distress; but Amy's eyes were hard anddry, and had the agonized look which might have been their expressionhad she been enduring physical torture. 

"Miss Amy, " he said brokenly after a moment, "you forget that yourfather said, 'If this life is all, it is fiendishly cruel to tear usfrom that which we have learned to love so dearly, ' and I agree withhim. But this life is not all; the belief that human life ends at deathis revolting to reason, conscience, and every sense of justice. If thiswere true the basest villain could escape all the consequences of hisevil in a moment, and you who are so innocent, so exquisite in yourspiritual organization, so brave and noble that you can face this awfulfear in your devotion to those you love--you by ceasing to breathemerely would sink to precisely the same level and be no different fromthe lifeless clay of the villain. Such monstrous injustice isimpossible; it outrages every instinct of justice, every particle ofreason that I have. 

"Miss Amy, don't you see that you are like the disciples in the boat outin the midst of the sea? The night is dark above you, the storm is wildaround you, the waves are dashing over you, the little boat is frail, and there are such cold, dark depths beneath it. But we can't help thesethings. We can't explain the awful mystery of evil and suffering; sooneror later every human life becomes enveloped in darkness, storm, anddanger. That wave-tossed boat in the midst of the sea is an emblem ofthe commonest human experience. On the wide sea of life, numberlesslittle barks are at this moment at the point of foundering. Few are sorichly freighted as yours, but the same unknown depths are beneath each. But, Miss Amy, I pray you remember the whole of this suggestive Biblestory. Those imperilled disciples were watched by a loving, powerfulfriend. He came to their aid, making the very waves that threatened toengulf the pathway of his rescuing love. He saved those old-timefriends. They are living to-day, they will live forever. I can't explainthe dark and terrible things of which this world is full, I cannotexplain the awful mystery of evil in any of its forms. I know thepestilence is all around us; I know it seems to threaten your precious, beautiful life. I recognize the fact, as I also remember the fact of thedarkness and storm around the little boat. But I also know with absolutecertainty that there is one who can come to your rescue, whose provinceit is to give life, deathless life, life more rich and full of thrillinghappiness than you have ever dreamed of, even with your vividimagination. "

"How, how can you know this? What _proof_ can you give me?" sheasked; and no poor creature, whose life was indeed at stake, ever bentforward more eagerly to catch the sentence of life or death, than didAmy Poland the coming answer. 

"I know it, " he replied more calmly, "on the strongest possible groundsof evidence--my own experience, the experience of Mrs. Arnot, who issincerity itself, and the experience of multitudes of others. Believersin Jesus Christ have been verifying his promises in every age, and inevery possible emergency and condition of life, and if their testimonyis refused, human consciousness is no longer a basis of knowledge. Noone ever had a better friend than Mrs. Arnot has been to me; she hasbeen the means of saving me from disgrace, shame, and everything thatwas base, and I love her with a gratitude that is beyond words, and yetI am not so conscious of her practical help and friendship as that ofthe Divine Man who has been my patient unwavering friend in my long, hard struggle. "

Under his words, the hard, dry despair of Amy had given way to gentlerfeelings, which found expression in low, piteous sobbing. 

"Oh, when will he come to me?" she asked, "for I cannot doubt after suchwords. "

"When you most need him, Miss Amy. It is your privilege to ask hiscomforting and sustaining presence now; but he will come when he seesthat you most need him. "

"If ever poor creatures needed such a friend as you have described, weneed him now, " faltered Mrs. Poland, turning her face toward them andthen they knew that she had heard all. 

Amy sprang to her embrace, exclaiming, "Mother, is it possible that wecan find such a friend in our extremity?"

"Amy, I am bewildered, I am overwhelmed. "

Haldane carried little Bertha to her crib and covered her with anafghan. Then coming to the lady's side he took her hand and said gently, and yet with that quiet firmness which does much to produce conviction:"Mrs. Poland, before leaving your husband to his quiet sleep we readwords which Jesus Christ once spoke to a despairing, grief-strickenwoman. Take them now as if spoken to you. 'Jesus said unto her, I am theresurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall neverdie. ' As your husband said to you, you will all surely meet again. "

Then he lifted her hand to his lips in a caress that was full ofsympathy and respect, and silently left the room. 

CHAPTER LII

A MAN VERSUS A CONNOISSEUR

Amy's sad presentiment was almost verified. She was very ill, and forhours of painful uncertainty Haldane watched over her and administeredthe remedies which Dr. Orton left; and indeed the doctor himself wasnever absent very long, for his heart was bound up in the girl. At last, after a wavering poise, the scale turned in favor of life, and she beganto slowly revive. 

Poor Mrs. Poland was so weak that she could not raise her head or hand, but, with her wistful, pathetic eyes, followed every motion, for sheinsisted on having Amy in the same room with herself. Aunt Saba, the oldnegress, to whom Mr. Poland had given her freedom, continued a faithfulassistant. Bound to her mistress by the stronger chain of gratitude andaffection, she served with fidelity in every way possible to her; andshe and her husband were so old and humble that death seemingly hadforgotten them. 

Before Amy was stricken down with the fever the look of unutterabledread and anxiety that was so painful to witness passed away, and gaveplace to an expression of quiet serenity. 

"I need no further argument, " she had said to Haldane; "Christ has comeacross the waves of my trouble. I am as sure of it as I am sure that youcame to my aid. I do not know whether mother or Bertha or I willsurvive, but I believe that God's love is as great as his power, andthat in some way and at some time all will come out for the best. I havewritten to my friend abroad and to Auntie Arnot all about it, and now Iam simply waiting. O, Mr. Haldane, I am so happy to tell you, " she hadadded, "that I think mother is accepting the same faith, slowly and inaccordance with her nature, but surely nevertheless. I am like father, quick and intense in my feelings. I feel that which is false or thatwhich is true, rather than reason it out as mother does. "

Aunt Saba and her husband managed to take care of Bertha and keep hermind occupied; but before Amy's convalescence had proceeded very far thelittle girl was suddenly prostrated by a most violent attack of thedisease, and she withered before the hot fever like a fragile flower ina simoom. Haldane went hastily for Dr. Orton, but he gave scarcely ahope from the first. 

During the night following the day on which she had been stricken down astrange event occurred. [Footnote: It is stated on high medical authoritythat "all patients suffer more during thunder-showers, " and an instanceis given of a physician who was suffering from this fever, and who waskilled as instantly, by vivid flash and loud report, as if he had beenstruck by the lightning. ] The sultry heat had been followed by atropical thunder-storm, which had gathered in the darkness, and oftengave to the midnight a momentary and brighter glare than that of theprevious noon. The child would start as the flashes grew more intense, for they seemed to distress her very much. 

As Haldane was lifting her to give her a drink he said:

"Perhaps Bertie will see papa very soon. "

Hearing the word "papa, " the child forgot her pain for a moment andsmiled. At that instant there was a blinding flash of lightning, and theappalling thunder-peal followed without any interval. 

Both Mrs. Poland and Amy gave a faint and involuntary cry of alarm, butHaldane's eyes were fixed on the little smiling face that he held sonear to his own. The smile did not fade. The old, perplexed expressionof pain did not come back, and after a moment he said quietly and verygently:

"Bertie is with her father;" and he lifted her up and carried her to hermother, and then to Amy, that they might see the beautiful and smilingexpression of the child's face. 

But their eyes were so blinded by tears that they could scarcely see theface from which all trace of suffering had been banished almost as trulyas from the innocent spirit. 

Having laid her back in the crib, and arranged the little form as ifsleeping, he carried the crib, with Aunt Saba's help, to the room whereMr. Poland had died. Then he told the old negress to return and remainwith her mistress, and that he would watch over the body till morning. 

That quiet watch by the pure little child, with a trace of heaven's ownbeauty on her face, was to Haldane like the watch of the shepherds onthe hillside near Bethlehem. At times, in the deep hush that followedthe storm, he was almost sure that he heard, faint and far away, angelicminstrelsy and song. 

Haldane's unusually healthful and vigorous constitution had thus farresisted the infection, but after returning from the sad duty of layinglittle Bertha's remains by those of her father, he felt the peculiarlanguor which is so often the precursor of the chill and subsequentfever. Although he had scarcely hoped to escape an attack, he had neverbefore realized how disastrous it would be to the very ones he had cometo serve. Who was there to take care of him? Mrs. Poland was almosthelpless from nervous prostration. Amy required absolute quiet toprevent the more fatal relapse, which is almost certain to followexertion made too early in convalescence. He knew that if he were in thehouse she would make the attempt to do something for him, and he alsoknew it would be at the risk of her life. Old Aunt Saba was worn out inher attendance on Bertha, Amy, and Mrs. Poland. Her husband, and astranger who had been at last secured to assist him, were required inthe household duties. 

He took his decision promptly, for he felt that he had but brief time inwhich to act. Going to Mrs. Poland's room, he said to her and Amy:

"I am glad to find you both so brave and doing as well as you are onthis sad, sad day. I do not think you will take the disease, Mrs. Poland; and you, Miss Amy, only need perfect quiet in order to get well. Please remember, as a great favor to me, how vitally important is thetranquillity of mind and body that I am ever preaching to you, and don'tdo that which fatigues you in the slightest degree, till conscious ofyour old strength. And now I am going away for a little while. This is atime when every man should be at his post of duty. I am neededelsewhere, for I know of a case that requires immediate attention. Please do not remonstrate, " he said, as they began to urge that heshould take some rest; "my mission here has ended for the present and myduty is elsewhere. We won't say good-by, for I shall not be far away;"and although he was almost faint from weakness, his bearing was sodecided and strong, and he appeared so bent on departure, that they feltthat it would hardly be in good taste to say anything more. 

"We are almost beginning to feel that Mr. Haldane belongs to us, " saidAmy to her mother afterward, "and forget that he may be prompted by asstrong a sense of duty to others. "

As Haldane was leaving the house Dr. Orton drove to the door. Before hecould alight the young man climbed into his buggy with almost desperatehaste. 

"Drive toward the city, " he said so decisively that the doctor obeyed. 

"What's the matter, Haldane? Speak, man; you look sick. "

"Take me to the city hospital. I am sick. "

"I shall take you right back to Mrs. Poland's, " said the doctor, pullingup. 

Haldane laid his hands on the reins, and then explained his fears andthe motive for his action. 

"God bless you, old fellow; but you are right. Any effort now would costAmy her life, and she would make it if you were there. But you are notgoing to the hospital. "

Dr. Orton's intimate acquaintance with the city enabled him to placeHaldane in a comfortable room near his own house, where he could giveconstant supervision to his case. He also procured a good nurse, whosesole duty was to take care of the young man. To the anxious questioningof Mrs. Poland and Amy from time to time, the doctor maintained thefiction, saying that Haldane was watching a very important case underhis care; "and you know his way, " added the old gentleman, rubbing hishands, as if he were enjoying something internally, "he won't leave acase till I say it's safe, even to visit you, of whom he speaks everychance he gets;" and thus the two ladies in their feeble state weresaved all anxiety. 

They at length learned of the merciful ruse that had been played uponthem by the appearance of their friend at their door in Dr. Orton'sbuggy. As the old physician helped his patient, who was still ratherweak, up the steps, he said with his hearty laugh:

"Haldane has watched over that case, that he and I told you of, longenough. We now turn the case over to you, Miss Amy. But all he requiresis good living, and I'll trust to you for that. He's a trump, if he is aYankee. But drat him, I thought he'd spoil the joke by dying, at onetime. "

The sentiments that people like Mrs. Poland and her daughter, Mrs. Arnot, and Laura, would naturally entertain toward one who had servedthem as Haldane had done, and at such risk to himself, can be betterimagined than portrayed. They looked and felt infinitely more than theywere ever permitted to say, for any expression of obligation wasevidently painful to him. 

He speedily gained his old vigor, and before the autumn frosts put anend to the epidemic, was able to render Dr. Orton much valuableassistance. 

Amy became more truly his sister than ever his own had been to him. Herquick intuition soon discovered his secret--even the changingexpression of his eyes at the mention of Laura's name would haverevealed it to her--but he would not let her speak on the subject. "Shebelongs to another, " he said, "and although to me she is the mostbeautiful and attractive woman in the world, it must be my lifelongeffort not to think of her. "

His parting from Mrs. Poland and Amy tested his self-control severely. In accordance with her impulsive nature, Amy put her arms about his neckas she said brokenly:

"You were indeed God's messenger to us, and you brought us life. Asfather said, we shall all meet again. "

On his return, Mrs. Arnot's greeting was that of a mother; but therewere traces of constraint in Laura's manner. When she first met him shetook his hand in a strong, warm pressure, and said, with tears in hereyes:

"Mr. Haldane, I thank you for your kindness to Amy and auntie assincerely as if it had all been rendered to me alone. "

But after this first expression of natural feeling, Haldane was almosttempted to believe that she shunned meeting his eyes, avoided speakingto him, and even tried to escape from his society, by taking Mr. Beaumont's arm and strolling off to some other apartment, when he wascalling on Mrs. Arnot. And yet if this were true, he was also made tofeel that it resulted from no lack of friendliness or esteem on herpart. 

"She fears that my old-time passion may revive, and she would teach meto put a watch at the entrance of its sepulchre, " he at lengthconcluded; "she little thinks that my love, so far from being dead, is achained giant that costs me hourly vigilance to hold in lifelongimprisonment. "

But Laura understood him much better than he did her. Her manner was theresult of a straightforward effort to be honest. Of her own free will, and without even the slightest effort on the part of her uncle and auntto incline her toward the wealthy and distinguished Mr. Beaumont, shehad accepted all his attentions, and had accepted the man himself. Inthe world's estimation she would not have the slightest ground to findfault with him, for, from the first, both in conduct and manner, he hadbeen irreproachable. 

When the telegram which announced Mr. Poland's death was received, hetried to comfort her by words that were so peculiarly elegant andsombre, that, in spite of Laura's wishes to think otherwise, they struckher like an elegiac address that had been carefully prearranged andstudied; and when the tidings of poor little Bertha's death came, itwould occur to Laura that Mr. Beaumont had thought his first littleaddress so perfect that he could do no better than to repeat it, as onemight use an appropriate burial service on all occasions. He meant to bekind and considerate. He was "ready to do anything in his power, " as heoften said. But what was in his power? As telegrams and letters came, telling of death, of desperate illness, and uncertain life, of deathagain, of manly help, of woman-like self-sacrifice in the same man, herheart began to beat in quick, short, passionate throbs. Bat it wouldseem that nothing could ever disturb the even rhythm of Beaumont'spulse. He tried to show his sympathy by turning his mind to all that wasmournful and sombre in art and literature. One day he brought to herfrom New York what he declared to be the finest arrangement of dirgemusic for the piano extant, and she quite surprised him by declaringwith sudden passion that she could not and would not play a note of it. 

In her deep sorrow and deeper anxiety, in her strange and miserableunrest, which had its hidden root in a cause not yet understood, sheturned to him again and again for sympathy, and he gave her abundantopportunity to seek it, for Laura was the most beautiful object he hadever seen; and therefore, to feast his eye and gratify his ear, he spentmuch of his time with her; so much, indeed, that she often grew drearilyweary of him. But no matter when or how often she would look into hisface for quick, heartfelt appreciation, she saw with instinctivecertainty that, more than lover, more than friend, and eventually, morethan husband, he was, and ever would be, a connoisseur. When she smiledhe was admiring her, when she wept he was also admiring her. Whatevershe did or said was constantly being looked at and studied from anaesthetic standpoint by this man, whose fastidious taste she had thusfar satisfied. More than once she had found herself asking: "Suppose Ishould lose my beauty, what would he do?" and the instinctive answer ofher heart was: "He would honorably try to keep all his pledges, butwould look the other way. "

Before she was aware of it, she had begun to compare her affianced withHaldane, and she found that the one was like a goblet of sweet, richwine, that was already nearly exhausted and cloying to her taste; theother was like a mountain spring, whose waters are pure, ever new, unfailing, prodigally abundant, inspiring yet slaking thirst. 

But she soon saw whither such comparisons were leading her, andrecognized her danger and her duty. She had plighted her faith toanother, and he had given her no good reason to break that faith. Laurahad a conscience, and she as resolutely set to work to shut out Haldanefrom her heart, as he, poor man, had tried to exclude her image, andfrom very much the same cause. But the heart is a wayward organ and isoften at sword's-point with both will and conscience, and frequently, inspite of all that she could do, it would array Haldane on the one sideand Beaumont on the other, and so it would eventually come to be, theman who loved her, _versus_ the connoisseur who admired her, but whoseabsorbing passion for himself left no place for any other strongfeeling. 

CHAPTER LIII

EXIT OF LAURA'S FIRST KNIGHT

Haldane was given but little time for quiet study, for, before the yearclosed, tidings came from his mother, who was then in Italy, that shewas ill and wished to see him. Poor Mrs. Haldane had at last begun tounderstand her son's character better, and to realize that he wouldretrieve the past. She also reproached herself that she had not beenmore sympathetic and helpful to him, and was not a little jealous thathe should have found better and more appreciative friends than herself. And, at last, when she was taken ill, she longed to see him, and he lostnot a moment in reaching her side. 

Her illness, however, did not prove very serious, and she improvedrapidly after a young gentleman appeared who was so refined in hismanners, so considerate and deferential in his bearing toward her thatshe could scarcely believe that he was the same with the wild, wretchedyouth who had been in jail, and, what was almost as bad, who had workedin a mill. 

Haldane made the most of his opportunities in seeing what was beautifulin nature and art while in the old world, but his thoughts turned withincreasing frequency to his own land--not only because it contained thefriends he loved so well, but also because events were now rapidlyculminating for that great struggle between the two jarring sectionsthat will eventually form a better and closer union on the basis of amutual respect, and a better and truer knowledge of each other. 

When Mrs. Haldane saw that her son was determined to take part in theconflict, he began to seem to her more like his old unreasonable self. She feebly remonstrated as a matter of course, and proved to her ownsatisfaction that it was utter folly for a young man who had theenjoyment of such large wealth as her son to risk the loss of everythingin the hardships and dangers of war. He was as kind and considerate aspossible, but she saw from the old and well-remembered expression of hiseyes that he would carry out his own will nevertheless, and thereforeshe and his sisters reluctantly returned with him. 

Having safely installed them in their old home, and proved by the aid ofDr. Marks and some other leading citizens of his native city that theyhad no further occasion to seclude themselves from the world, hereturned to Hillaton to aid in organizing a regiment that was beingrecruited there, and in which Mr. Ivison had assured him of acommission. By means of the acquaintances he had made through his oldmission class, he was able to secure enlistments rapidly, and althoughmuch of the material that he brought in was unpromising in its firstappearance, he seemed to have the faculty of transforming the slouchingdilapidated fellows into soldiers, and it passed into general remarkthat "Haldane's company was the roughest to start with and the bestdisciplined and most soldierly of them all when ordered to the seat ofwar. "

The colonelcy of the regiment was given to Mr. Beaumont, not only onaccount of his position, but also because of his large liberality infitting it out. He took a vast interest in the aesthetic features of itsequipment, style of uniform, and like matters, and he did most excellentservice in insisting on neatness, good care of weapons, and asoldier-like bearing from the first. 

While active in this work he rose again in Laura's esteem, for he seemedmore manly and energetic than he had shown himself to be before; andwhat was still more in his favor, he had less time for the indulgence ofhis taste as a connoisseur with her fair but often weary face as theobject of contemplation. 

She, with many others, visited the drill-ground almost daily, and whenshe saw the tall and graceful form of Mr. Beaumont issuing from thecolonel's tent, when she saw him mount his superb white horse, which hemanaged with perfect skill, when she saw the sun glinting on his elegantsword and gold epaulets, and heard his sonorous orders to the men, shealmost felt that all Hillaton was right, and that she had reason to beproud of him, and to be as happy as the envious belles of the citydeemed her to be. But in spite of herself, her eyes would wander fromthe central figure to plain Captain Haldane, who, ignoring the admiringthrong, was giving his whole attention to his duty. 

Before she was aware, the thought began to creep into her mind, however, that to one man these scenes were military pageants, and to the otherthey meant stern and uncompromising war. 

This impression had speedy confirmation, for one evening when both Mr. Beaumont and Haldane happened to be present, Mrs. Arnot remarked ineffect that her heart misgive her when she looked into the future, andthat the prospect of a bloody war between people of one race and faithwas simply horrible. 

"It will not be very bloody, " remarked Mr. Beaumont, lightly. "Afterthings have gone about so far the politicians on both sides will step inand patch up a compromise. Our policy at the North is to make animposing demonstration. This will have the effect of bringing thefire-eaters to their senses, and if this won't answer we must get enoughmen together to walk right over the South, and end the nonsense at once. I have travelled through the South, and know that it can be done. "

"Pardon me, colonel, " said Haldane, "but since we are not on thedrill-ground I have a right to differ with you. I anticipate a verybloody, and, perhaps, a long war. I have not seen so much of the South, but I have seen something of its people. The greatest heroism I ever sawmanifested in my life was by a young Southern girl, and if such aretheir women we shall find the men foemen abundantly worthy of our steel. We shall indeed have to literally walk over them, that is, such of us asare left and able to walk. I agree with Mrs. Arnot, and I tremble forthe future of my country. "

Mr. Beaumont forgot himself for once so far as to say, "Oh, if you findsuch cause for trembling--" but Laura's indignant face checked furtherutterance. 

"I propose to do my duty, " said Haldane, with a quiet smile, though aquick flush showed that he felt the slur, "and it will be your duty, Colonel, to see that I do. "

"You have taught us that the word duty means a great deal to you, Egbert, " said Mrs. Arnot, and then the matter dropped. But the animus ofeach man had been quite clearly revealed, and the question would rise inLaura's mind, "Does not the one belittle the occasion because littlehimself?" Although she dreaded the coming war inexpressibly, she tookHaldane's view of it. His tribute to her cousin Amy also touched a verytender chord. 

On the ground of having secured so many recruits Mr. Ivison urged thatHaldane should have the rank of major, but at that time those thingswere controlled largely by political influence and favoritism, and therewere still not a few in Hillaton who both thought and spoke of the youngman's past record as a good reason why he should not have any rank atall. He quietly took what was given him and asked for nothing more. 

All now know that Mr. Beaumont's view was not correct, and as theconflict thickened and deepened that elegant gentleman became more andmore disgusted. Not that he lacked personal courage, but, as he oftenremarked, it was the "horrid style of living" that he could not endure. He could not find an aesthetic element in the blinding dust orunfathomable mud of Virginia. 

As was usually the case, there was in the regiment a soldier gifted withthe power and taste for letter-writing, and he kept the local papersquite well posted concerning affairs in the regiment. One itemconcerning Beaumont will indicate the condition of his mind. Afterdescribing the "awful" nature of the roads and weather, the writeradded, "The Colonel looks as if in a chronic state of disgust. "

Suddenly the regiment was ordered to the far Southwest. This was morethan Beaumont could endure, for in his view life in that region would bea burden under any circumstances. He coolly thought the matter over, andconcluded that he would rather go home, marry Laura, and take a tour inEurope, and promptly executed the first part of his plan by resigning onaccount of ill-health. He had a bad cold, it is true, which had chieflygone to his head and made him very uncomfortable, and so inflamed hisnose that the examining physician misjudged the exemplary gentleman, recommending that his resignation be accepted, more from the fear thathis habits were bad than from any other cause. But by the time hereached Hillaton his nose was itself again, and he as elegant as ever. The political major had long since disappeared, and so Haldane startedfor his distant field of duty as lieutenant-colonel. 

The regimental letter-writer chronicled this promotion in the Hillaton"Courier" with evident satisfaction. 

"Lieut. -Col. Haldane, " he wrote, "is respected by all and liked by themajority. He keeps us rigidly to our duty, but is kind and consideratenevertheless. He is the most useful officer I ever heard of. Now he ischaplain and again he is surgeon. He coaxes the money away from the menand sends it home to their families, otherwise much of it would be lostin gambling. Many a mother and wife in Hillaton hears from the absentoftener because the Colonel urges the boys to write, and writes forthose who are unable. To give you a sample of the man I will tell youwhat I saw not long ago. The roads were horrible as usual, and some ofthe men were getting played out on the march. The first thing I knew asick man was on the Major's horse (he was Major then), and he wastrudging along in the mud with the rest of us, and carrying the musketsof three other men who were badly used up. [Footnote: I cannot refrainhere from paying a tribute to my old schoolmate and friend, Major JamesCromwell, of the 124th New York Volunteers, whom I have seen ploddingalong in the mud in a November storm, a sick soldier riding his horse, while he carried the accoutrements of other men who were giving out fromexhaustion. Major Cromwell was killed while leading a charge at thebattle of Gettysburg. ] We want the people of Hillaton to understand, that if any of us get back we won't hear anything more against Haldane. Nice, pretty fellows, who don't like to get their boots muddy, as ourex-Colonel, for instance, may be more to their taste, but they ain't toours. "

Laura read this letter with cheeks that reddened with shame and thengrew very pale. 

"Auntie, " she said, showing it to Mrs. Arnot, "I cannot marry that man. I would rather die first. "

"I do not wonder that you feel so, " replied Mrs. Arnot emphatically. "With all his wealth and culture I neither would nor could marry him, and would tell him so. I have felt sure that you would come to thisconclusion, but I wished your own heart and conscience to decide thematter. "

But before Laura could say to Mr. Beaumont that which she felt she must, and yet which she dreaded, for his sake, to speak, a social earthquaketook place in Hillaton. 

Mr. Arnot was arrested! But for the promptness of his friends to givebail for his appearance, he would have been taken from his privateoffice to prison as poor Haldane had been years before. 

It would be wearisome to tell the long story of his financial distress, which he characteristically kept concealed from his wife. Experienceslike his are only too common. With his passion for business he hadextended it to the utmost limit of his capital. Then came a time ofgreat depression and contraction. Prompted by a will that had never beenthwarted, and a passion for routine which could endure no change, hemade Herculean effort to keep everything moving on with mechanicalregularity. His strong business foresight detected the coming change forthe better in the business world, and with him it was only a question ofbridging over the intervening gulf. He sank his own property in hiseffort to do this; then the property of his wife and Laura, which heheld in trust. Then came the great temptation of his life. He was jointtrustee of another very large property, and the co-executor was inEurope, and would be absent for years. In order to use some of the fundsof this property it was necessary to have the signature of thisgentleman. With the infatuation of those who dally with this kind oftemptation, Mr. Arnot felt sure that he could soon make good all that heshould use in his present emergency, and, therefore, forged the name ofthe co-trustee. The gentleman returned from Europe unexpectedly, and thecrime was discovered and speedily proved. 

It was now that Mrs. Arnot proved what a noble and womanly nature shepossessed. Without palliating his fault, she ignored the whole scoffing, chattering world, and stood by her husband with as wifely devotion as ifhis crime had been misfortune, and he himself had been the affectionateconsiderate friend that she had believed he would be, when as a blushingmaiden she had accepted the hand that had grown so hard, and cold, andheavy. 

Mr. Beaumont was stunned and bewildered. At first he scarcely knew whatto do, although his sagacious father and mother told him very plainly tobreak the engagement at once. But the trouble with Mr. Beaumont uponthis occasion was that he was a man of honor, and for once he almostregretted the fact. But since he was, he believed that there was but onecourse open for him. Although Laura was now penniless, and the samealmost as the daughter of a man who would soon be in State prison, hehad promised to marry her. She must become the mistress of the ancientand aristocratic Beaumont mansion. 

He braced himself, as had been his custom when a battle was in prospect, and went down to the beautiful villa which would be Laura's home but afew days longer. 

As he entered, she saw that he was about to perform the one heroic actof his life, but she was cruel enough to prevent even that one, and soreduced his whole career to one consistently elegant and polishedsurface. 

He had taken her hand, and was about to address her in the mostappropriate language, and with all the dignity of self-sacrifice, whenshe interrupted him by saying briefly:

"Mr. Beaumont, please listen to me first. Before the most unexpectedevent occurred which has made so great a change in my fortunes, and Imay add, in so many of my friends, I had decided to say to you in allsincerity and, kindness that I could not marry you. I could not give youthat love which a wife ought to give to a husband. I now repeat mydecision still more emphatically. "

Mr. Beaumont was again stunned and bewildered. A woman declining tomarry him!

"Can nothing change your decision?" he faltered, fearing that somethingmight. 

"Nothing, " she coldly replied, and with an involuntary expression ofcontempt hovering around her flexible mouth. 

"But what will you do?" he asked, prompted by not a little curiosity. 

"Support myself by honest work, " was her quiet but very decisive answer. 

Mr. Beaumont now felt that there was nothing more to be done but to makea little elegant farewell address, and depart, and he would make it inspite of all that she could do. 

The next thing she heard of him was that he had started on a tour ofEurope, and, no doubt, in his old character of a connoisseur, whosejudgment few dared to dispute. 

CHAPTER LIV

ANOTHER KNIGHT APPEARS

The processes of law were at length complete, and Mr. Arnot foundhimself in a prison cell, with the prospect that years must elapsebefore he would receive a freedom that now was dreaded almost more thanhis forced seclusion. After his conviction he had been taken fromHillaton to a large prison of the State, in a distant city. 

"I shall follow you, Thomas, as soon as I can complete such arrangementsas are essential, " Mrs. Arnot had said, "and will remain as near to youas I can. Indeed, it will be easier for Laura and me to commence our newlife there than here. "

The man had at last begun to realize the whole truth. True to hisnature, he thought of himself first, and saw that his crime, like agreat black hand, had dragged him down from his proud eminence of powerand universal respect, away from his beloved business, and had shut himup in this narrow, stony sepulchre, for what better was his prison cellthan a tomb to a man with his tireless mind? The same mind which like agiant had carried its huge burden every day, was still his; but nowthere was nothing for it to do. And yet it would act, for constantmental action had become a necessity from a lifetime of habit. Heretofore his vast business taxed every faculty to the utmost. He hadto keep his eye on all the great markets of the world; he had to followpoliticians, diplomats, and monarchs into their secret councils, andguess at their policy in order to shape his own business policy. Hisinterests were so large and far-reaching that it had been necessary forhim to take a glance over the world before he could properly direct hisaffairs from his private office. For years he had been commanding asmall army of men, and with consummate skill and constant thought he hadarrayed the industry of his army against the labors of like armies underthe leadership of other men in competition with himself. His mind hadlearned to flash with increasing speed and accuracy to one and anotherof all these varied interests. But now the great fabric of business andwealth, which he had built by a lifetime of labor, had vanished like adream, and nothing remained but the mind that had constructed it. 

"Ah!" he groaned again and again, "why could not mind and memory perishalso?"

But they remained, and were the only possessions left of his greatwealth. 

Then he began to think of his wife and Laura. He had beggared them, and, what was far worse, he had darkened their lives with the shadow of hisown disgrace. Wholly innocent as they were, they must suffer untoldwretchedness through his act. In his view he was the cause of the brokenengagement between his niece and the wealthy Mr. Beaumont, and now hesaw that there was nothing before the girl but a dreary effort to gain alivelihood by her own labor, and this effort rendered almost hopeless bythe reflected shame of his crime. 

His wife also was growing old and feeble. At last he realized he had awife such as is given to but few men--a woman who was great enough to betender and sympathetic through all the awful weeks that had elapsedsince the discovery of his crime--a woman who could face what she sawbefore her and utter no words of repining or reproach. 

He now saw how cold and hard and unappreciative he had been toward herin the days of his prosperity, and he cursed himself and his unutterablefolly. 

Thus his great powerful mind turned in vindictive rage against itself. Memory began to show him with mocking finger and bitter jibes where hemight have acted more wisely in his business, more wisely in his socialrelations, and especially more wisely and humanely, to say the least, inhis own home. It seemed to take a fiendish delight in telling him howeverything might have been different, and how he, instead of brooding ina prison cell, might have been the most honored, useful, wealthy, andhappy man in Hillaton. 

Thus he was tortured until physical exhaustion brought him a briefrespite of sleep. But the next day it was the same wretched round ofbitter memories and vain but torturing activity of mind. Day after daypassed and he grew haggard under his increasing mental distress. Hismind was like a great driving wheel, upon which all the tremendousmotive power is turned without cessation, but for which there is nothingto drive save the man himself, and seemingly it would drive him mad. 

At last he said to himself, "I cannot endure this. For my own sake, forthe sake of my wife and Laura, it were better that an utter blank shouldtake the place of Thomas Arnot. I am, and ever shall be, only a burdento them. I am coming to be an intolerable burden to myself. "

The thought of suicide, once entertained, grew rapidly in favor, and atlast it became only a question how he could carry out his dark purpose. With this definite plan before him he grew calmer. At last he hadsomething to do in the future, and terrible memory must suspend for atime its scorpion lash while he thought how best to carry out his plan. 

The suicide about to take the risk of endless suffering is usuallydesirous that the intervening moments of his "taking off" should be aspainless as possible, and Mr. Arnot began to think how he could make hisexit momentary. But his more tranquil mood, the result of having somedefinite action before him, led to sleep, and the long night passed inunconsciousness, the weary body clogging the wheels of consciousthought. 

The sun was shining when he awoke; but with returning consciousness camememory and pain, and the old cowardly desire to escape all theconsequences of his sin by death. He vowed he would not live to seeanother day, and once more he commenced brooding over the one question, how he would die. As he took up this question where he had dropped itthe previous night, the thought occurred to him what a long respite hehad had from pain. Then like a flash of lightning came another thought:

"Suppose by my self-destroying act I pass into a condition of life inwhich there is no sleep, and memory can torture without cessation, without respite? True, I have tried to believe there is no future life, but am I sure of it? Here I can obtain a little rest. For hours I havebeen unconscious, through the weight of the body upon my spirit. How canI be sure that the spirit cannot exist separately and suffer just thesame? I am not suffering now through my body, and have not been throughall these terrible days. My body is here in this cell, inert andmotionless, painless, while in my mind I am enduring the torments of thedamned. The respite from suffering that I have had has come through theweariness of my body, and here I am planning to cast down the onebarrier that perhaps saves me from an eternity of torturing thought andmemory. "

He was appalled at the bare possibility of such a future; reason toldhim that such a future was probable, and conscience told him that it wasbefore him in veritable truth. He felt that wherever he carried memoryand his present character he would be most miserable, whether it were inDante's Inferno, Milton's Paradise, or the heaven or hell of the Bible. 

There was no more thought of suicide. Indeed, he shrank from death withinexpressible dread. 

Slowly his thoughts turned to his wife, the woman who had been so trueto him, the one human being of all the world who now stood by him. Shemight help him in his desperate strait. She seemed to have a principlewithin her soul which sustained her, and which might sustain him. At anyrate, he longed to see her once more, and ask her forgiveness in deepcontrition for his base and lifelong failure to "love, honor, andcherish her, " as he had promised at God's altar and before manywitnesses. 

The devoted wife came and patiently entered on her ministry of love andChristian faith, and out of the chaos of the fallen man of iron andstone there gradually emerged a new man, who first became in Christ'sexpressive words "a little child" in spiritual things, that he mightgrow naturally and in the symmetry of the enduring manhood which Goddesigns to perfect in the coming ages. 

Mrs. Arnot's sturdy integrity led her to give up everything to herhusband's creditors, and she came to the city of her new abode whereinthe prison was located almost penniless. But she brought letters fromDr. Barstow, Mr. Ivison, and other Christian people of Hillaton. Thesewere presented at a church of the denomination to which she belonged, and all she asked was some employment by which she and Laura couldsupport themselves. These letters secured confidence at once. There wasno mystery--nothing concealed--and, although so shadowed by the disgraceof another, the bearing of the ladies inspired respect and won sympathy. A gentleman connected with the church gave Laura the position ofsaleswoman in his bookstore, and to Mrs. Arnot's little suburban cottageof only three rooms kind and interested ladies brought sewing andfancy-work. Thus they were provided for, as God's people ever are insome way. 

Mrs. Arnot had written a long letter to Haldane before leaving Hillaton, giving a full account of their troubles, with one exception. At Laura'srequest she had not mentioned the broken engagement with Beaumont. 

"If possible, I wish to see him myself before he knows, " she had said. "At least, before any correspondence takes place between us, I wish tolook into his eyes, and if I see the faintest trace of shrinking from methere, as I saw it in Mr. Beaumont's eyes, I will never marry him, trulyas I love him. "

Mrs. Arnot's face had lighted up with its old-time expression, as shesaid:

"Laura, don't you know Egbert Haldane better than that?"

"I can't help it, " she had replied with a troubled brow; "the manner ofnearly every one has changed so greatly that I must see him first. "

Haldane did not receive Mrs. Arnot's first letter. He was at sea withhis regiment, on his way to the far Southwest, when the events in whichhe would have been so deeply interested began to occur. After reachinghis new scene of duty, there were constant alternations of march andbattle. In the terrible campaign that followed, the men of the army hewas acting with were decimated, and officers dropped out fast. Inconsequence, Haldane, who received but two slight wounds, that did notdisable him, was promoted rapidly. The colonel of the regiment waskilled soon after their arrival, and from the command of the regiment herose, before the campaign was over, to command a brigade, and then adivision; and he performed his duties so faithfully and ably that he wasconfirmed in this position. 

Mrs. Arnot's first letter had followed him around for a time, and thenwas lost, like so many others in that time of dire confusion. Her secondletter after long delay reached him, but it was very brief and hurried, and referred to troubles that he did not understand. From members of hisold regiment, however, rumors reached him of some disaster to Mr. Arnot, and wrong-doing on his part, which had led to imprisonment. 

Haldane was greatly shocked at the bare possibility of such events, andwrote a most sympathetic letter to Mrs. Arnot, which never reached her. She had received some of his previous letters, but not this one. 

By the time the campaign was over one of Haldane's wounds began totrouble him very much, and his health seemed generally broken down fromexposure and overexertion. As a leave of absence was offered him, heavailed himself of it and took passage to New York. 

Three or four letters from his mother had reached him, but that lady'scauseless jealousy of Mrs. Arnot had grown to such proportions that shenever mentioned her old friend's name. 

The long days of the homeward voyage were passed by Haldane in vainconjecture. Of one thing he felt sure, and that was that Laura was bythis time, or soon would be, Mrs. Beaumont; and now that the excitementof military service was over, the thought rested on him with a weightthat was almost crushing. 

One evening Mr. Growther was dozing as usual between his cat and dog, when some one lifted the latch and walked in without the ceremony ofknocking. 

"Look here, stranger, where's yer manners?" snarled the old gentleman. Then catching a glimpse of the well-remembered face, though now obscuredby a tremendous beard, he started up, exclaiming, "Lord a' massy! 'taint you, is it? And you compared yourself with thatlittle, peaked-faced chap that's around just the same--you withshoulders as broad as them are, and two stars on 'em too!"

The old man nearly went beside himself with joy. He gave the cat and dogeach a vigorous kick, and told them to "wake up and see if they couldbelieve their eyes. "

It was some time before Haldane could get him quieted down so as toanswer all the questions that he was longing to put; but at last he drewout the story in full of Mr. Arnot's forgery and its consequences. 

"Has Mr. Beaumont married Miss Romeyn?" at last he faltered. 

"No; I reckon not, " said Mr. Growther dryly. 

"What do you mean?" asked Haldane sharply. 

"Well, all I know is that he didn't marry her, and she ain't the kind ofa girl to marry him, whether he would or no, and so they ain't married. "

"The infernal scoundrel!" thundered Haldane, springing to his feet. "The--"

"Hold on!" cried Mr. Growther. "O Lord a' massy! I half believe he's gotto swearin' down in the war. If he's backslid agin, nothin' but mylittle, peaked-faced chap will ever bring him around a nuther time. "

Haldane was stalking up and down the room in strong excitement and quiteoblivious of Mr. Growther's perplexity. 

"The unutterable fool!" he exclaimed, "to part from such a woman asLaura Romeyn for any cause save death. "

"Well, hang it all! if he's a fool that's his business. What on 'arth isthe matter with you? I ain't used to havin' bombshells go off rightunder my nose as you be, and the way you are explodin' round kindertakes away my breath. "

"Forgive me, my old friend; but I never had a shot strike quite as closeas this. Poor girl! Poor girl! What a prospect she had a few monthssince. True enough, Beaumont was never a man to my taste; but a womansees no faults in the man she loves; and he could have given hereverything that her cultivated taste could wish for. Poor girl, she mustbe broken-hearted with all this trouble and disappointment. "

"If I was you, I'd go and see if she was, " said Mr. Growther, with ashrewd twinkle in his eyes. "I've heerd tell of hearts bein' mended inmy day. "

Haldane looked at him a moment, and, as he caught his old friend'smeaning, he brought his hand down on the table with a force that madeeverything in the old kitchen ring again. 

"O Lord a' massy!" ejaculated Mr. Growther, hopping half out of hischair. 

"Mr. Growther, " said Haldane, starting up, "I came to have a veryprofound respect for your sagacity and wisdom years ago, but to-nightyou have surpassed Solomon himself. I shall take your most excellentadvice at once and go and see. "

"Not to-night--"

"Yes, I can yet catch the owl train to-night. Good-by for a short time. "

"No wonder he took the rebs' works, if he went for 'em like that, "chuckled Mr. Growther, as he composed himself after the excitement ofthe unexpected visit. "Now I know what made him look so long as ifsomething was a-gnawin' at his heart; so I'm a-thinkin' there'll be twohearts mended. "

Haldane reached the city in which Mrs. Arnot resided early in themorning, and as he had no clew to her residence, he felt that his bestchance of hearing of her would be at the prison itself, for he knew wellthat she would seek either to see or learn of her husband's welfarealmost daily. In answer to his inquiries, he was told that she would besure to come to the prison at such an hour in the evening since that washer custom. 

He must get through the day the best he could, and so strolled off tothe business part of the city, where was located the leading hotel, andwas followed by curious eyes and surmises. Major-generals were not inthe habit of inquiring at the prison after convicts' wives. 

As he passed a bookstore, it occurred to him that an exciting storywould help kill time, and he sauntered in and commenced looking over thelatest publications that were seductively arranged near the door. 

"I'll go to breakfast now, Miss, " said the junior clerk who swept thestore. 

"Thank you. Oh, go quickly, " murmured Laura Romeyn to herself, as withbreathless interest she watched the unconscious officer, waiting till heshould look up and recognize her standing behind a counter. She wasdestined to have her wish in very truth, for when he saw her he would beso surely off his guard from surprise that she could see into the verydepths of his heart. 

Would he never look up? She put her hand to her side, for anticipationwas so intense as to become a pain. She almost panted from excitement. This was the supreme moment of her life, but the very fact of his comingto this city promised well for the hope which fed her life. 

"Ah, he is reading. The thought of some stranger holds him, while myintense thoughts and feelings no more affect him than if I were athousand miles away. How strong and manly he looks! How well thatuniform becomes him, though evidently worn and battle-stained! Ah! twostars upon his shoulder! Can it be that he has won such high rank? Whatwill he think of poor me, selling books for bread? Egbert Haldane, beware! If you shrink from me now, even in the expression of your eye, Istand aloof from you forever. "

The man thus standing on the brink of fate, read leisurely on, smilingat some quaint fancy of the author, who had gained his attention for amoment. 

"Heigh ho!" he said at last, " this stealing diversion from a bookunbought is scarcely honest, so I will--"

The book dropped from his hands, and he passed his hands across his eyesas if to brush away a film. Then his face lighted up with all the nobleand sympathetic feeling that Laura had ever wished or hoped to see, andhe sprang impetuously toward her. 

"Miss Romeyn, " he exclaimed. "Oh, this is better than I hoped. "

"Did you hope to find me earning my bread in this humble way?" shefaltered, deliciously conscious that he was almost crushing her hand ina grasp that was all too friendly. 

"I was hoping to find _you_--and Mrs. Arnot, " he added with a suddendeepening of color. "I thought a long day must elapse before I couldlearn of your residence. "

"Do you know all?" she asked, very gravely. 

"Yes, Miss Romeyn, " he replied with moistening eyes, "I know all. Perhaps my past experience enables me to sympathize with you more thanothers can. But be that as it may, I do give you the whole sympathy ofmy heart; and for this brave effort to win your own bread I respect andhonor you more, if possible, than I did when you were in your beautifulhome at Hillaton. "

Laura's tears were now falling fast, but she was smiling nevertheless, and she said, hesitatingly:

"I do not consider myself such a deplorable object of sympathy; I havegood health, a kind employer, enough to live upon, and a tolerably clearconscience. Of course I do feel deeply for auntie and uncle, and yet Ithink auntie is happier than she has been for many years. If all hadremained as it was at Hillaton, the ice around uncle's heart would havegrown harder and thicker to the end; now it is melting away, andauntie's thoughts reach so far beyond time and earth, that she isforgetting the painful present in thoughts of the future. "

"I have often asked myself, " exclaimed Haldane, "could God have made anobler woman? Ah! Miss Laura, you do not know how much I owe to her. "

"You have taught us that God can make noble men also. "

"I have merely done my duty, " he said, with a careless gesture. "Whencan I see Mrs. Arnot?"

"I can't go home till noon, but I think I can direct you to the house. "

"Can I not stay and help you sell books? Then I can go home with you. "

"A major-general behind the counter selling books would make a sensationin town, truly. "

"If the people were of my way of thinking, Miss Laura Romeyn sellingbooks would make a far greater sensation. "

"Very few are of your way of thinking, Mr. Haldane. "

"I am heartily glad of it, " he ejaculated. 

"Indeed!"

"Pardon me, Miss Romeyn" he said with a deep flush, "you do notunderstand what I mean. " Then he burst out impetuously, "Miss Laura, Icannot school myself into patience. I have been in despair so many yearsthat since I now dare to imagine that there is a bare chance for me, Icannot wait decorously for some fitting occasion. But if you can give meeven the faintest hope I will be patience and devotion itself. "

"Hope of what?" said Laura faintly, turning away her face. 

"Oh, Miss Laura, I ask too much, " he answered sadly. 

"You have not asked anything very definitely, Mr. Haldane, " shefaltered. 

"I ask for the privilege of trying to win you as my wife. "

"Ah, Egbert, " she cried, joyously, "you have stood the test; for if youhad shrunk, even in your thoughts, from poor, penniless Laura Romeyn, with her uncle in yonder prison, you might have tried in vain to winme. "

"God knows I did not shrink, " he said eagerly, and reaching out his handacross the counter. 

"I know it too, " she said shyly. 

"Laura, all that I am, or ever can be, goes with that hand. "

She put her hand in his, and looking into his face with an expressionwhich he had never seen before, she said:

"Egbert, I have loved you ever since you went, as a true knight, to theaid of cousin Amy. "

And thus they plighted their faith to each other across the counter, andthen he came around on her side. 

We shall not attempt to portray the meeting between Mrs. Arnot and onewhom she had learned to look upon as a son, and who loved her with anaffection that had its basis in the deepest gratitude. 

Our story is substantially ended. It only remains to be said thatHaldane, by every means in his power, showed gentle and forbearingconsideration for his mother's feelings, and thus she was eventually ledto be reconciled to his choice, if not to approve of it. 

"After all, it is just like Egbert, " she said to her daughters, "and wewill have to make the best of it. "

Haldane's leave of absence passed all too quickly, and in parting hesaid to Laura:

"You think I have faced some rather difficult duties before, but therewas never one that could compare with leaving you for the uncertaintiesof a soldier's life. "

But he went nevertheless, and remained till the end of the war. 

Not long after going to the front he was taken prisoner in a disastrousbattle, but he found means of informing his old friend Dr. Orton of thefact. Although the doctor was a rebel to the backbone, he swore he would"break up the Confederacy" if Haldane was not released, and through hisinfluence the young man was soon brought to his friend's hospitablehome, where he found Amy installed as housekeeper. She was now Mrs. Orton, for her lover returned as soon as it was safe for him to do soafter the end of the epidemic. He was now away in the army, and thusHaldane did not meet him at that time; but later in the conflict ColonelOrton in turn became a prisoner of war, and Haldane was able to returnthe kindness which he received on this occasion. Mrs. Poland residedwith Amy, and they both were most happy to learn that they wouldeventually have a relative as well as friend in their captive, for neverwas a prisoner of war made more of than Haldane up to the time of hisexchange. 

Years have passed. The agony of the war has long been over. Not onlypeace but prosperity is once more prevailing throughout the land. 

Mr. And Mrs. Arnot reside in their old home, but Mrs. Egbert Haldane isits mistress. Much effort was made to induce Mr. Growther to take up hisabode there also, but he would not leave the quaint old kitchen, wherehe said "the little peaked-faced chap was sittin' beside him all thetime. "

At last he failed and was about to die. Looking up into Mrs. Arnot'sface, he said:

"I don't think a bit better of myself. I'm twisted all out o' shape. Butthe little chap has taught me how the Good Father will receive me. "

The wealthiest people of Hillaton are glad to obtain the services of Dr. Haldane, and to pay for them; they are glad to welcome him to theirhomes when his busy life permits him to come; but the proudest citizenmust wait when Christ, in the person of the poorest and lowliest, sendsword to this knightly man, "I am sick or in prison"; "I am naked orhungry. "

THE END