MR. ARNOT'S SYSTEM WORKS BADLY
Mr. Arnot was so disturbed by his wife's visit that he found it
impossible to return to the routine of business, and, instead of
maintaining the cold, lofty bearing of a man whose imperious will awed
and controlled all within its sphere, he fumed up and down his office
like one who had been caught in the toils himself. In the morning it had
seemed that there could not have been a fairer opportunity to vindicate
his iron system, and make it irresistible. The offending subject in his
business realm should receive due punishment, and all the rest be taught
that they were governed by inexorable laws, which would be executed with
the certainty and precision with which the wheels moved in a great
factory under the steady impulse of the motor power. But the whole
matter now bade fair to end in a tangled snarl, whose final issue no one
could foretell.
He was sensitive to public opinion, and had supposed that his course
would be upheld and applauded, and he be commended as a conservator of
public morals. He now feared, however, that he would be portrayed as
harsh, 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 large
property from his business was a far more serious consideration. He had
learned how resolute and unswerving she could be in matters of
conscience, and he knew that she was not in the habit of making idle
threats in moments of irritation. If, just at this time, when he was
widely extending his business, she should demand a separate investment
of her means, it would embarrass and cripple him in no slight degree. If
this should be one of the results of his master-stroke, he would have
reason to curse his brilliant policy all his days. He would now be only
too glad to get rid of the Haldane affair on any terms, for thus far it
had proved only a source of annoyance and mortification. He was somewhat
consoled, however, when his confidential clerk returned and intimated
that the examination before the justice had been brief; that Haldane had
eagerly stated his case to the justice, but when that dignitary remarked
that it was a clear case of embezzlement, and that he would have to
commit the prisoner unless some one went security for his future
appearance, the young fellow had grown sullen and answered, "Send me to
jail 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 disagreeable
experiences. He had been a manufacturer sufficiently long to know that
when a piece of machinery is set in motion, not merely the wheels
nearest to one will move, but also others that for the moment may be out
of sight. He who proposes to have a decided influence upon a
fellow-creature's destiny should remember our complicated relations, for
he cannot lay his strong grasp upon one life without becoming entangled
in the interests of many others.
Mr. Arnot was finding this out to his cost, for he had hardly composed
himself to his writing again before there was a rustle of a lady's
garments in the outer office, and a hasty step across the threshold of
his 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 been
asked so embarrassing a question in all his life. Before him was his
wife's friend, a lady of the highest social rank, and she was so
unmistakably a lady that he could treat her with only the utmost
deference. He saw with alarm himself the mother's nervous and trembling
apprehension, for there was scarcely anything under heaven that he would
not rather face than a scene with a hysterical woman. If this was to be
the climax of his policy he would rather have lost the thousand dollars
than 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 a
surprise. But this paper--this dreadful report--what does it mean?"
"I am sorry to say, madam, it is all too true," replied Mr. Arnot
uneasily. "Please take a chair, or perhaps it would be better for you to
go at once to our house and see Mrs. Arnot," he added, now glad to
escape the interview on any terms.
"What is too true?" she gasped.
"I think you had better see Mrs. Arnot; she will explain," said the
unhappy man, who felt that his system was tumbling in chaos about his
ears. "Let me assist you to your carriage."
"Do you think I can endure the suspense of another moment? In mercy
speak--tell me the worst!"
"Well," said Mr. Arnot, with a shiver like that of one about to plunge
into a cold bath, "I suppose you will learn sooner or later that your
son has committed a very wrong act. But," he added hastily, on seeing
Mrs. Haldane's increasing pallor, "there are extenuating
circumstances--at least, I shall act as if there were."
"But what has he done--where is he?" cried the mother in agony. Then she
added in a frightened whisper, "But the matter can be hushed up--there
need 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 from
you for publication the particulars of this disgraceful affair" Then,
seeing Mrs. Haldane, who had dropped her veil, and was trembling
violently, 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 a
moment. 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 account
of the affair must appear in this evening's 'Spy.' It will be your own
fault if it is not true in all respects. It is said that you have acted
harshly 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 been
scrutinizing the veiled and trembling lady, and he was scarcely
disappointed that she now rose hastily, and threw back her veil as she
said 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 not
be so cruel as to blast a young man forever with disgrace!"
"Mrs. Haldane, I presume," said the reporter, tracing a few
hieroglyphics 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 pay
willingly any amount to have the whole matter quietly dropped. I could
not 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 any
of its aspects save those which related to his business. He had formed
the habit of regarding all other considerations as unworthy of
attention, but here, certainly, was a most disagreeable exception.
"You touch my feelings deeply," said the reporter, in a tone that never
for a second lost its professional cadence, "but I much regret that your
hopes cannot be realized. Your son's act could scarcely be kept a secret
after the fact--known to all--that he has been openly dragged to prison
through the streets," and the gatherer of news and sensations kept an
eye on each of his victims as he made this statement. A cabalistic sign
in his note-book indicated the visible wincing of the enraged and
half-distracted manufacturer, whose system was like an engine off the
track, hissing and helpless; and a few other equally obscure marks
suggested to the initiated the lady's words as she half shrieked:
"My son dragged through the streets to prison! By whom--who could do so
dreadful?"--and she sank shudderingly into a chair, and covered her face
with her hands, as if to shut out a harrowing vision.
"I regret to say, madam, that it was by a policeman," added the
reporter.
"And thither a policeman shall drag you, if you do not instantly vacate
these premises!" said Mr. Arnot, hoarse with rage.
"Thank you for your courtesy," answered the reporter, shutting his book
with a snap like that of a steel trap. "I have now about all the points
I wish to get here. I understand that Mr. Patrick M'Cabe is no longer
under any obligations to you, and from him I can learn additional
particulars. Good-morning."
"Yes, go to that unsullied source of truth, whom I have just discharged
for lying and disobedience. Go to perdition, also, if you please; but
take yourself out of my office," said Mr. Arnot recklessly, for he was
growing desperate from the unexpected complications of the case. Then he
summoned one of his clerks, and said in a tone of authority, "Take this
lady 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 go
to your house."
"Then assist the lady to her carriage;" and Mr. Arnot turned the key of
his private office with muttered imprecations upon the whole wretched
affair.
"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 distracted
thoughts, and, after a moment's hesitation, said:
"To the prison."
The carriage containing Mrs. Haldane stopped at last before the gloomy
massive building, the upper part of which was used as a court-room and
offices for city and county officials, while in the basement were
constructed the cells of the prison. It required a desperate effort on
the part of the timid and delicate lady, who for years had almost been a
recluse from the world, to summon courage to alight and approach a place
that to her abounded in many and indefinite horrors. She was too
preoccupied to observe that another carriage had drawn up to the
entrance, and the first intimation that she had of Mrs. Arnot's presence
occurred when that lady took her hand in the shadow of the porch, and
said:
"Mrs. Haldane, I am greatly surprised to see you here; but you can rely
upon me as a true friend throughout this trial. I shall do all in my
power 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 not
bring herself to utter the concluding words.
"I could not; I did not know; but since I heard I have been doing
everything in my power."
"It was your husband who--"
"Yes," replied Mrs. Arnot, sadly, completing in thought her friend's
unfinished sentence. "But I had no part in the act, and no knowledge of
it until a short time since. I am now doing all I can to procure your
son's speedy release. My husband's action has been perfectly legal, and
we, 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 both
advise us and carry out such arrangements as are necessary;" and Mrs.
Haldane saw that Mrs. Arnot was accompanied by a gentleman, whom in her
distress she had not hitherto noticed.
The janitor now opened the door, and ushered them into a very plain
apartment, used both as an office and reception-room. Mrs. Haldane was
so overcome by her emotion that her friend led her to a chair, and
continued her reassuring words in a low voice designed for her ears
alone:
"Mr. Melville is a lawyer, and knows how to manage these matters. You
may trust him implicitly. I will give security for your son's future
appearance, should it be necessary, and I am quite satisfied it will not
be, as my husband has promised me that he will not prosecute if the
money is refunded."
"I would have paid ten times the amount--anything rather than have
suffered this public disgrace," sobbed the poor woman, who, true to her
instincts and life-long habit of thought, dwelt more upon the consequent
shame of her son's act than its moral character.
"Mr. Melville says he will give bail in his own name for me," resumed
Mrs. Arnot, "as, of course, I do not wish to appear to be acting in
opposition to my husband. Indeed, I am not, for he is willing that some
such an arrangement should be made. He has very many in his employ, and
feels that he must be governed by rigid rules. Mr. Melville assures me
that he can speedily effect Egbert's release. Perhaps it will save you
pain 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 shelters
your husband. I can never forgive him. Nor can I go to a hotel. I would
rather stay in this prison until I can hide myself and my miserable son
in our own home. Oh, how dark and dreadful are God's ways! To think that
the boy that I had brought up in the Church, as it were, should show
such unnatural depravity!" Then, stepping to the door, she said to the
under-sheriff in waiting, "Please take me to my son at once, if
possible."
"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 is
turning out from what I expected! I was in hopes that Egbert could meet
me in a little trip to New York, and I find him in prison!"