A NEW ASPECT OF AFFAIRS.
POOR Malcolm, after escaping from the clutches of Dunbar, sold off all
the goods and household furniture which he had removed to the best
possible advantage, and calling together his creditors, gave them a
history of his misfortunes, and divided among them the sum of one
thousand dollars, all that he had received from the sale of what he
had been able to save. It liquidated but thirty-three and one-third
cents on the dollar of his debts. He had previously secured a clerkship
paying a small salary. In consideration of his honesty in doing what
was in his power, in this his last extremity, his creditors voluntarily
signed him a full release from the balance of their claims against him.
One evening, a few days after this had taken place, Mr. Harrison called
upon him at his boarding house. They met alone in the public parlor.
Mr. Harrison was kind in his manner, but Malcolm was smarting yet too
severely from the consequences of the late suit to feel in any mood for
a cordial reception of his relative.
"Malcolm," said the old gentleman, after they were seated, "from my
attorney who defended the late suit that you brought against me, I
learned some facts that I never knew before. I always believed my
title to the property I hold to be clear, and never could imagine
upon what just ground you claimed to contest it. But your attorney
discovered, or you discovered it to him, a matter of which I have
always been ignorant, and which gives color to the opinion you have so
pertinaciously held in regard to your rights in my estate. That you
have some right in it I think may be the case, though certainly not
to the extent you have imagined. I have little doubt that, if you had
not been thrown out of court on a demurrer, the court would have given
you some twenty or thirty thousand dollars. This is my own lawyer's
opinion."
"Then," said Malcolm, "it is clearly my duty to begin again."
"I would advise you to try another lawyer, if you do."
"Why so?" asked Malcolm.
"Because the one you had took a bribe to introduce to the court a
defective bill."
"You are jesting," said Malcolm.
"No," replied Harrison, quietly; "I am entirely in earnest. My lawyer
suggested that Dunbar could be bought over to our interests, and I took
it into my head to see if he really was in earnest. Sure enough, Dunbar
named thirty thousand dollars as the price he would take to introduce a
defect in his bill, that we might throw you out of court, saddled with
costs so great that you could not pay them, without which it would be
impossible to begin again."
"And this was done?"
"Yes."
"You paid him thirty thousand dollars to defraud me?"
"I loaned him that much out of his wife's fortune—or, rather, his wife
to be."
"I don't understand you."
Harrison explained all that matter, and then added—
"From the moment I was satisfied that you had any rights in my estate,
I determined to grant them, let them be what they would. I was only
half satisfied on this head when I offered you the twenty-five thousand
dollars which you declined. I now believe that thirty thousand dollars
are all to which you are entitled, and that I am willing you shall
have, if you will take it and settle the matter forever."
Malcolm could hardly believe that this was said in earnest. When
satisfied that it was, the delight he felt was almost beyond expression.
Harrison was perfectly sincere in all this. It was what he intended
doing when he bargained with Dunbar for the admission of a flaw in
his client's bill. He was a man of thoroughly honest principles, but
eccentric in some things. The boldness of the proposition made by his
lawyer was so startling that he told him to go on, merely because he
was curious to see if such bold-faced iniquity could be practised by a
member of the bar. Before he agreed to pay the sum named, he understood
the relationship that existed between Dunbar and his ward, and
conceived the idea of making him pay his own bribe, which he succeeded
so well in doing. He ran some little risk, certainly; but he was a
pretty shrewd man in his calculations, and rarely went very far wrong.
On the day after the interview with Mr. Harrison, Malcolm called at the
office of Mr. Dunbar. The lawyer met him with a scowl upon his brow.
"I have one or two things to say to you, friend Dunbar," said Malcolm,
seating himself. He spoke in a very cool manner. "In the first place, I
believe a pretty large bill of costs accrued in the late suit against
Harrison, and that I stood charged with the same."
"Your memory is certainly accurate in the matter," returned the lawyer,
with insult in his tone and manner.
"That bill I wish you to settle in full," returned Malcolm, in a firm
voice. "There is another matter," he continued, "that I wish also
settled. During the progress of the suit, unnecessarily delayed as
you know, my business became involved, and finally, by your direct
agency, was entirely broken up. I am in debt on that account about two
thousand dollars, which I wish you also to settle for me, and to do it
forthwith."
"Mr. Malcolm, will you leave my office instantly?" said the lawyer,
smothering his excitement under a calmness of tone, and rising to his
feet as he spoke.
"Don't get excited, Mr. Dunbar," replied Malcolm, retaining his seat.
"This is a business of some importance and needs coolness in its
settlement. I have demanded nothing but what is right, and nothing
but what I mean to have. I will give you until to-morrow afternoon at
four o'clock to deliberate upon the matter, and then if you do not
present me with the clerk's receipt for that bill of costs, and with
two thousand dollars to pay off my debts, I will instantly commence a
suit against you and Harrison's lawyer for a conspiracy to defraud me,
in which something about a demurrer will come out that will not be very
pleasant to you or to him, as you both too well know."
Dunbar sank down in his chair as if suddenly deprived of strength,
while the perspiration started upon his forehead.
"For heaven's sake! What do you mean?" he exclaimed, taken so
completely by surprise as to be thrown off his guard.
"Simply what I say," replied Malcolm, as coolly and firmly as at first.
"I have heard from Mr. Harrison all about the bribe you accepted, and
received out of your own pocket. So you needn't imagine that I am
trying to frighten you with a bugbear. Pay the loss you have occasioned
me, and I have done with you for ever; if not, I will obtain damages.
To-morrow at four o'clock I will call, and if you are prepared to make
all right—well; and if not—well; at least so far as I am concerned.
Good morning."
And Malcolm retired from the office of Dunbar, leaving the attorney
more than half stupified, yet in the fullest possession of every word
that had been uttered.
When Malcolm called on the next day at the hour named, he received all
that he had demanded.
The star of Lawrence Dunbar's rising fortunes had already reached
its point of culmination—young as he was, and possessed of brilliant
talents and a mind well stored with professional lore—and was now
beginning its rapid descent. He had erred in supposing that, separated
from Mr. Harker, he could take a high position at the bar. In this
he had overrated himself. Only a few petty cases came into his hands
besides the case of Malcolm, which he managed so badly. The flaw left
in his client's bill in this case was so palpable, that the whole bar
expressed astonishment at the glaring oversight. It hurt his reputation
seriously.
But, when a whisper of the truth began to be heard, first here, then
there, and then everywhere among those who knew him, his star set in
the horizon of Philadelphia. So flagrant a violation of all honest
principles met its just rebuke. He stood alone. No man of honor and
respectability showed him any attentions or passed him the compliment
of an invitation to his house. There was a ban upon him; so much so
that men pointed at him in the streets and related the story of his
affair with old Mr. Harrison. In less than a year there was a public
sale of his elegant furniture in Arch street, and he moved somewhere
South with his wife. Of his domestic felicity nothing need be said.
Enough can be imagined.