EXILED FROM HOME AND FRIENDS.
The Legislative season drawing to a close, Senator Hamblin made
preparations to return home. Determining upon an active and early
canvass for the nomination as Gubernatorial candidate, his money
had been lavishly expended to win converts, while his large dinner
parties--the finest of the season--were attended by leading men and
high dignitaries. So successful had been his efforts to make friends
for himself, that even when the session closed, and before his canvass
began, he was spoken of as the probable choice of his party for the
Governor's chair. He therefore concentrated all his energies to
accomplish two objects: his own nomination and the marriage of his
daughter to Walter Mannis.
When awake these two objects were constantly on his mind; when asleep
his dreams were filled with them; when the impending financial hurricane
forced itself upon his mind he always reasoned:
"Walter Mannis will make my daughter a magnificent husband, while his
fortune will prevent my failure. Once Governor of the State, and I can
wield influence enough to extricate myself from the present dilemma."
The session had not been a profitable one to him, for no large jobs that
he was interested in came before the Senate; besides, while looking out
for his pocket, he had to avoid injuring his chances for the nomination.
The session had cost him several thousand dollars more than his salary,
which added to his embarrassments, yet his lavish use of money made all
believe his wealth increasing.
After the departure of Belle, George Alden became much depressed in
spirits. He was anxious to enter the bank at once, but by the advice
of Doctor Briar he went, accompanied by his sister, to visit a cousin
about two hundred miles distant. The change of air and scene, together
with the letters received from his wife, gave him renewed vigor, and his
despondency wore away. After a visit of one week he made preparations
to return home--his sister, as much in need of a change as himself, was
induced to remain a few days longer.
On his return, Alden was welcomed by many friends, who warmly grasped
his hand and expressed their gratification; but when, on the following
day, he entered the bank, he felt hurt at the cold greeting of the
teller. Removing his hat and stepping to his desk, he opened a book,
when Sargent said:
"Beg pardon, Mr. Alden, but the president desires to see you in his
private office before you resume your duties."
"See me?" said the astonished cashier. "For what?"
"That you will hear, sir, from his own lips."
His voice was full of irony, and the manner in which he spoke caused the
cashier to tremble, his pale face indicating agitation.
"Well, I will see him at once," Alden replied, and stepping to the door
of the private office, he gently rapped. Receiving a summons, he opened
the door and entered the apartment. The president was sitting at his
desk. Alden said:
"The teller informed me you desired my presence here."
The president, giving him a cold, meaning look, rose from his seat,
turned the key in the lock, then said:
"Yes, he was right. Be seated. I have much to say, and of a painful
nature."
George Alden's lips trembled. For a moment neither spoke, the silence
being finally broken by the president.
"George, never in my whole life did I have such a painful duty to
perform as now falls to my lot. You have served the bank for several
years, and during that time have succeeded in winning the confidence of
every officer of the institution. You have been trusted implicitly at
all times, yet an examination reveals to us that this confidence placed
in you has not been deserved."
He paused, when George Alden sprang to his feet, and gasped:
"I--I do not--that is--I cannot comprehend your meaning."
"Be seated, Alden. It almost unmans me; in fact, ever since this affair
came to my knowledge my confidence in mankind has been shaken as never
before. I see you are overcome; why not confess your crime, and let us
see that you are not as depraved as your act would indicate."
"My God! what do you mean? Confess what? At least, inform me of what I
am charged."
"Why inform you of what you already know? The abstraction of the funds
has been discovered and the worthless bonds are here."
Turning to his desk and opening a drawer, he laid before the astonished
cashier five thousand dollars in worthless paper.
"I swear before my Maker," exclaimed George, "that I never saw those
bonds before. What conspiracy is this?"
The president affected surprise and answered:
"You act your part well. You little thought, I suppose, that we would
discover your crime. The books, however, show that some time in August
last year you took five thousand dollars in money from the bank, placing
these worthless bonds in the vault as collateral."
George Alden rose to his feet, and lifting his clenched hand above his
head, and bringing it down upon the table before him, said:
"It is a lie! If anything is wrong the villain is in the other room."
"Beware, young man, how you talk; the evidence is too strong for you
to escape by any means whatever. Here is the entry made in your own
handwriting. You cannot deny this. Look here--is that written by any
other hand than your own?"
"It--it--it--does look--oh, my God! I never wrote it. Am I dreaming? No,
I am the victim of that man who has been at my desk."
Catching hold of a chair to prevent himself from falling, and turning
toward the president, in piteous tones he said:
"Mr. Hamblin, certainly you do not think me capable of robbing the bank?"
His answer being only a cold wave of the hand, the distracted man stared
at his tormentor; as he did so, anger succeeded amazement, and he
exclaimed:
"It is a foul conspiracy, and _you_ are at the bottom of it! You would
ruin me to satisfy your own ambition, you scoundrel!"
The president turned white with rage, and said:
"Have a care what you say, young man, or I will hand you over to the
courts, where your crime will receive its just punishment. Your assumed
innocence cannot stand against proofs so damaging as these books reveal."
"But I never committed the deed. I am innocent of anything so
despicable. I a defaulter! God knows I never wronged any man. Oh, why
was I brought out of the burning factory!"
His weak condition showed that he had miscalculated his strength, and
Senator Hamblin looking into his face, saw its deathly pallor, while the
poor man's eyeballs seemed almost ready to burst from their sockets.
Much alarmed, he rose hastily, and seizing the hand of George Alden,
said:
"I pity you--God knows I do. You are only human, and I will try and help
you out of this trouble, for I recognize you have claims upon me."
"Thank you; perhaps I spoke hastily just now, but answer me--do you
think I am guilty?"
"The evidence is very strong against you."
"But have you never thought another might have desired to get me out of
the way?"
"To whom do you refer?"
The cashier turned, and pointing toward the door opening into the
banking department, replied:
"The man who once went back on _you_."
"No, I cannot believe that--for he pities you, and to him you owe the
fact that no one knows of your crime but him and myself."
"My crime? Stop! do not call it that."
"Calm yourself, George, and let us talk of the future. Of course, it is
impossible for you to remain in the bank. No one but Sargent and myself
knows of the affair. You are without means to make good the missing sum.
I have suffered great anguish of mind since I learned of this matter,
and am not indifferent to the existing relations between you and my
family, which makes my course toward you far different than it would be
were our relations otherwise. Beside this, your brave act of last fall
entitles you to consideration, therefore I will befriend and help you,
if I can."
"Thank you, sir! thank you. I--I am so bewildered, I scarcely know what
to do. I cannot realize that I am awake. I know I am innocent of any
crime; but I have no adviser."
"Listen a moment," replied the president. "I can and will help you. I
will replace the money, and thus make good the defalcation--advance you
five hundred dollars beside, and you can quietly leave Cleverdale."
"I leave Cleverdale like a criminal! Confessing by flight that I am a
thief! No, sir, I cannot do that."
"You do not realize your situation. At present no one knows of this
affair. If you remain in town an excuse must be given for discharging
you from the bank, for it will be impossible for you to retain your
position here. Reflect a moment. If you desire to remain and face the
evidence, I am powerless to prevent you. I am your friend so far as I
can be, but should you remain here it will be necessary for me to report
this matter to the board of directors. I wish I might do otherwise,
but I cannot be placed in the attitude of sacrificing my own honor. I
know that warm affection exists between you and my daughter; as the
father of her whom you love and respect, I will help you if you will
help yourself, but I cannot go beyond those limits and make myself the
shielder of an openly apparent criminal. Ah! I know what you would say,
but facts exist that we must look at squarely. I offer to help you, but
you must leave Cleverdale at once."
The distracted cashier fell into a chair and groaned with agony.
Through his mind rapidly passing many thoughts, he fully realized
his situation, and knew he was the victim of a base trick, if not a
conspiracy, yet he was powerless to prove his innocence. Thoughts
of his young wife and sister passing rapidly through his mind, his
first and only consideration was to shield them from disgrace. Once
he thought of disclosing the secret of his marriage, but remembering
the solemn promise made his wife, and knowing that Senator Hamblin
was a cold-hearted man, he feared the disclosure might increase their
difficulties.
These thoughts running rapidly through his mind, he wished for his wife
and sister that he might consult them, but as they were far away, in
whatever he did he must act alone, and in his weakened condition he was
unfit to decide so serious a matter.
He believed his innocence would be established if he prevented the
conspiracy from being made public; although he was a good enough judge
of human nature to suspect Hamblin, he was loath to believe that the
president desired his ruin. He believed that Hamblin's mind had been
poisoned by Sargent, who had really robbed the bank and made a scapegoat
of the cashier. At the same time he recognized the fact that Senator
Hamblin was in the power of the teller, but desired to get rid of the
cashier. The more he thought over the subject the more he saw the utter
impossibility of proving his innocence, but concluded to make one more
appeal to the president.
"Give me time to think, sir," he replied to Senator Hamblin, when the
latter asked for his decision. "Before you drive me from home and
friends, make a more thorough examination, for I am confident you will
be convinced of my innocence."
"No, that cannot be. This was discovered immediately after your heroic
adventure. I was astonished and could not believe you guilty. I have
investigated thoroughly, and after due deliberation am convinced in my
own mind concerning this matter."
"But Sargent--what does he say?"
"He pleaded for you, as never before man did for another. When it looked
as if you must die, I decided to make good the amount and let your grave
cover the crime. I am entrusted with the funds of this institution. If
you remain in the village I must give a reason for your discharge--if
you go away your absence must be attributed to mystery; I shall never
follow you. If you can ever repay me the amount I advance, all right; if
you cannot, I shall feel that I have protected you as well as the honor
of a member of my own household."
Eloquence can make deceit appear as the purest of truths. This gift
accounted in part for Senator Hamblin's great power, for he was
a natural actor. His persuasive manner and strong language had a
perceptible effect upon George Alden, who gave evident signs of weakness
of mind and body. Long months of confinement left him powerless to cope
with a strong mind, and gradually his will succumbed to that of his
persecutor.
He could write to Belle and Fannie, he reasoned, and be advised by them.
Yes, he would save himself and friends the disgrace that must inevitably
follow the charge he knew to be false, yet was unable to disprove. It
would be a terrible ordeal, but he thought it would be only temporary
and his vindication must surely follow. As for Belle, who never could
doubt his honesty, he could keep her informed of his whereabouts,
awaiting her summons to return.
"What is your decision, George? I must know at once," asked the
president.
"Give me one day to decide."
"No, you must make your choice at once--the directors will meet this
evening, and if you remain here I must tell them of the defalcation, and
then I shall be powerless to aid you. I wish it were otherwise, but it
is not."
"Well, sir, to shield those I love I accept your offer. I hope I have
not made a wrong decision, but my vindication is sure to follow."
Senator Hamblin opened a private drawer, and taking from it five hundred
dollars, said:
"Here, George, is money--no, do not push it back--you will require
it--you need not take it as a gift, it is only lent you."
At first Alden refused the loan, but the president, pretending to be
affected almost to tears, at last succeeded in forcing the money upon
him.
The interview ended, Alden left the building and wended his footsteps
homeward. Alone in the privacy of his chamber he gave way to his
feelings, after which he began making preparations for leaving
Cleverdale. Taking up a picture of his wife that lay upon the table
before him, he covered it with kisses, and said:
"I am her evil genius, and thus far have only caused her unhappiness.
But she shall know all; yes, every word that passed between her father
and me shall be written her."
For two hours he sat beside the table, writing. He wrote of the terrible
charges against him, and placed on paper every word that passed between
the bank president and himself. He asserted his innocence; told of his
love, and begged his wife to do everything in her power to clear up
the mystery. He read and reread his letter, and added more, telling
her of his assumed name and destination. He then wrote another letter,
containing substantially the same matter, which he directed to his
sister.
Not one word concerning his marriage, or his legal relationship to
Belle, appeared in either letter. He was too much absorbed in his
situation to think of anything but his flight and the causes that led to
it.
At nine o'clock George Alden, bidding farewell to his home, went
directly to the post office, mailed his letters, and then turned toward
the depot. Meeting many friends, to their inquiries whither he was bound
he replied, he was "going for his sister." It was a falsehood, and his
conscience troubled him for it.
As the train steamed out of the depot his heart was too full of sadness
to speak to any one. Although an innocent man, his sorrows must affect
the two noble women whom he believed he was serving by leaving home.
God pity the three! Business reverses may drive a man from home and
friends, death may inflict anguish hard to be endured, calumny may cast
dark shadows over noble lives, but ambition alone can inflict unmerited
misery on honorable natures; and worse than the ambition that causes
war--worse because meaner--is the feeling that political necessities
engender and stimulate in a man until he can coolly perform deeds more
fiendish than Holy Writ anywhere ascribes to Satan. In proof whereof it
is only necessary to quote a word or two of Senator Hamblin's soliloquy
after Alden left the bank.
"_I_ am the scoundrel.--Well, a man must be one to succeed in politics."