In its train
Follow all things unholy--love of gold--
The phantom comes and lays upon his lids
A spell that murders sleep, and in his ear
Whispers a deathless word, and on his brain
Breathes a fierce thirst no water will allay--
He is its slave henceforth!
N. P. WILLIS.
It is often to be found, that men of strongest and least regulated
passions, calculating, cautious, as may be the nature of their general
character, are the most easily rendered subserviant to any influence or
weakness to which they in the first instance, have capriciously chosen
to lay themselves open.
Thus it was with Mr. Trevor. His unjust partiality towards his youngest
son turned against him, so far, that the latter gradually gained an
ascendency over his father's mind, for we cannot exactly call it his
affections, which no one, not even the favourite Marryott, had ever been
known to attain in so extended a measure, and effect. To Eugene Trevor's
credit, it may at least be said, that he was not one, so far as his
outward conduct and demeanour were concerned, to abuse such a position;
on the contrary, he was rather disposed to conciliate the continuance of
it, by every seeming mark of gratitude, and duty, never, however,
neglecting in any direct, or indirect way to turn to advantage the
propitious circumstances of his case.
This habit had long engendered that peculiar respectfulness of manner
and demeanour, which we had occasion to remark so undeviatingly
maintained by the son, towards the miserly parent.
But perhaps a bond of union had then been established between the father
and son, of a more subtle and secret character, than any were aware; the
consciousness on the parent's part, of having pardoned and covered in
the son, more than he had any right ever to have so covered or forgiven;
the son subdued in some measure to grateful subjection towards that
parent, from the consciousness of what had by him been concealed, and
overlooked; a bond of union, the more strengthened and annealed as years
wore on, and showed the harmony of character and propensity, however
differently they might as yet be shown forth, which subsisted between
them.
Alas! when evil, not good cements the union of man with man--when hand
joins hand, for deeds or purposes of darkness--especially when by such
unholy links are seen connected, parent with child--child with parent!
However, all this might be--there was certainly a suspicious cloak over
one era of Eugene Trevor's early history, under which no member of his
family save his father ever penetrated.
We allude to a period, two years perhaps after the event, which has
lately been brought forward, when he was suddenly removed from the
business in which he had for a period held a kind of sinacure office;
and ever afterwards was tacitly suffered by his father to live at large,
either at home or abroad, following no other profession or pursuit, but
those pleasures and practices, to which he was but too strongly
addicted.
There is then good reason to suppose that the liberality of his father
on the occasion we have quoted, did not put a stop to further losses and
embarrassments of the same nature on Eugene's part; and one dark
instance will prove at least, to what extremity he was once driven, at
the same time as it exemplified the little confidence he was disposed as
yet to place, in the kindness and long suffering of a parent, whose
character and disposition he had too much acute insight and observation
not to be perfectly able to appreciate. He knew that in his father's
breast existed a passion wherein neither reason, nor benevolence, nor
natural affection, nor any other faculty had in other cases the least
influence--whilst in his own breast could he have analyzed its
propensities with equal exactness, he might have read the love, and
aspiring after the attainment of the same unrighteous mammon, as deep,
and vehement, in its development, though as yet subservient in a degree,
to other feelings--the slave--not as yet the master spirit of other
appetites and propensities. And alas! in the instance we are about to
record--how strongly is it proved that a great activity of this passion,
if the moral qualities of the mind be low--if there exist no honest or
honourable means, or a desire to pursue those means by which it can be
gratified--dishonesty, dishonour, every dark and crooked way and means,
may be the fearful consequences.
* * * * *
There came another evening when Eugene Trevor returned clandestinely to
Montrevor, without, as on former occasions, seeking to make his arrival
known to any member of the establishment. But Mr. Trevor was not long in
being apprized by Marryott, that his youngest son had some hours since
entered the house, and had gone straight to his bed-room, from which he
had not since made his appearance, and she wished to know whether she
had not better go and see what was the matter?
Perhaps Mr. Trevor had his misgivings as to something being in the wind
in that quarter, which it were as well that he might see to in _propria
persona_, therefore, he told Marryott that he would go up stairs
himself, and find out what the boy was about.
He accordingly proceeded to that distant part of the mansion, which
contained the sordid rooms, allotted from their boyhood, to the sons of
the family, and entered the one appropriated to Eugene's use.
Mr. Trevor's stealthy entrance enabled him to stand some minutes without
notice, for the young man was seated with his back to the door, leaning
over a table, seemingly in the anxious examination of a small bundle of
papers he held in his hand, and on which the keen eye of the observer
fixed itself with suspicious surprize, for they were evidently bank
notes.
Suddenly the father made a cautious movement forward--something had
caught his eye. It was one of these same papers, which the draught from
the open window had probably, unperceived by the owner, wafted from the
table to the ground, just behind the young man's chair.
The father stooped; and having clutched it in his grasping hand,
curiously scanned his prize; yes, it was to all appearance one of those
precious things, after which his soul lusted--a monied note--a note for
£20 on the London Bank in which he had so great concern.
But how was this? His hand trembled as he held it for stricter
examination further from his eyes. Perhaps his heart misgave him from
the first. How had the boy become possessed of all this money?
Ah! a new light flashed upon him, and he became deadly pale.
That well practised vision, that sharp witted perception was not to be
deceived. The astounding, stunning truth miraculously flashed upon his
senses, that the paper he held within his grasp was no true genuine
bank-note on the firm of Maynard, Trevor and Co., but that _it was
forged_.
One moment after, and Eugene Trevor felt a sharp nervous grasp laid upon
his arm. He started violently, and the terrified ashy countenance he
turned towards his father, would at once have convicted him in the eye
of the beholder of any capital offence of which he might have been
suspected.
"Wretched boy, what have you done?" gasped the father, as with one hand
maintaining his hold on the culprit's arm, with the other he held the
accusing note before his shrinking eye, glaring at the same time
fearfully upon him. "This--this--" in accents tremulous between rage and
horror, "I know, I feel convinced, is _forged_!"
The son sat pale and trembling, but attempted not a word of explanation
or denial.
"And the others--the same?"
They were passively yielded for inspection. All--all--alike!
"Do you wished to be hanged, Sir?" almost shrieked the father.
"I must have money--those might have passed for such."
"Might?--yes, and you might, I say, be hanged."
"Well, if I were hanged, what then? Life's not worth having without
money," was the dark and moody rejoinder.
"And why should you ever be in want of money?" Mr. Trevor replied in a
low, trembling voice.
"Why? why--when I see how you serve Eustace."
"Eustace!" in a tone of impatient scorn; "what's Eustace to do with
you?"
"Or if I could be content to live the life that Harry leads," was the
sullen continuation, "I might perhaps do very well; but as I have in
some degree tastes and inclinations beyond those of a groom or a jockey,
I must have money somehow or another, for accidental emergencies like
the present. There was nothing left for me but this," pointing to the
notes, "or to blow my brains out, to which alternative I suppose I have
now arrived."
"Tut, tut--nonsense!" replied the agitated father; "why did you not come
to me?"
"You?--why, after that thousand pounds you gave me, I could not expect
you'd supply me with all I want now."
"And who--who," continued Mr. Trevor, still livid with horror and dismay
at the dreadful risk his son had run, rather than at the crime he had
perpetuated; "who, in the name of Heaven, was your abettor in this
preposterous scheme?"
Eugene Trevor, after a little hesitation, named his accomplice--of
course, an _attaché_ of the Bank in question--a young man of low birth
and principles, with whom Eugene Trevor had formed this dreadful
confederacy, and who was subsequently removed from the bank by the
connivance of Mr. Trevor, about the same time, as his young patron was,
as we have before mentioned, mysteriously taken from the business.
"None of these notes have yet been circulated," the father inquired in
terrified anxiety.
"No; not yet. I brought them down here, and Wilson was to follow, as you
gave me leave to ask him; and then I was to consider over with him the
best way of proceeding."
Mr. Trevor mused for a moment; then gathering up the notes in his long,
thin fingers, carefully, nay, even delicately, as if he could not away
with some sentiment of tender respect even for that which only bore the
semblance of his heart's idol; he bade his son, in a low hoarse tone, to
get up, and follow him down stairs.
Eugene mechanically obeyed; and his father stealthily preceded him back
to his library, the door of which they having both entered, he carefully
closed and bolted.
Eugene sank upon a chair, with blanched cheeks, and trembling in every
limb. He had not tasted food all day; but, more than this, the act of
moving from one room to the other had probably roused his mental powers,
and his not yet quite depraved or hardened heart became more sensible to
the horrors of the risk, and the enormity of the crime from which he had
been providentially rescued.
His father, seeing the condition his son was in, produced a small flask
he kept near him for his private use in cases of emergency (he never,
generally speaking, partook of wine or spirits), and poured him out a
sparing quantity.
The son looked at the glass contemptuously, swallowed its contents; then
seized the bottle his father had incautiously left within his reach,
emptied it of at least half of the remainder, and drank it clean off.
Mr. Trevor, in the meantime, had turned away, to enter upon the business
in hand. Holding the dangerous papers still clutched fearfully in his
grasp, he looked around to determine how most securely to dispose of
them.
It would have been easy to have committed them at once to the flames,
if any such means of destruction had been provided; and thus every
memento of his son's guilt might have perished for ever; but though a
chilly April evening, no fire at such an advanced period was suffered to
burn upon the miser's cheerless hearth. So he looked from that hopeless
quarter for some other resource; and going to his _escritoire_, unlocked
it, and in one of its most secret recesses deposited those deeds of
intended wrong, destined to afford long, long after their very existence
was forgotten, a striking example of the fact, that sin, however at the
time covered or concealed, seldom fails to bear forth some fruit of woe,
be it to ourselves or others, in future years.
Mr. Trevor then proceeded to open another drawer, and glancing towards
his son, carefully selected some bank-notes therefrom, brought them to
Eugene, and thrust them hastily into his hand, as if he feared the
impulse might have evaporated ere the act was accomplished. They were
the exact number of those he had counted of the forged notes.
The young man looked on them at first with a bewildered and uncertain
gaze; then, overcome probably by the reaction of feeling, burst forth
into a paroxysm of tears, with which he covered his father's hand, as he
gave vent to a torrent of thanks and deprecations against such
undeserved generosity.
The aged man--for even then, though scarce past sixty, Mr. Trevor from
appearance might have been so denominated--that old, old heart having
long imparted the influence of years to his character and demeanour, he
seemed by this fervent recognition of his unjust--indeed, under the
circumstances of the case--iniquitous indulgence, to be spurred on to an
effusion of warmth towards his favourite, almost monomaniacal in its
extent. Again he seized his keys, and, one after another, threw open
wide chest after chest, drawer after drawer of his spacious treasures;
showing, with layers of notes to a great amount, heaps of shining
gold--the gathered hoards of years; with which, besides the enormous
deposits with which the bank of Maynard and Co. was enriched, this
"exceeding rich man" kept to feast his eyes and delight his heart with
their sensible and tangible presence.
"There boy--there," he exclaimed, observing with a kind of exulting
gratification the impression this display made upon the young man's
countenance--how his eye kindled, and his breath came short and quick,
as if with the covetous delight which found such sympathy in his own
breast, "is not that worth living for, think ye.... Well, well, never
forget again, nor waste and want, as you have lately begun to do; but
wait, and watch, and learn to do like me, and who knows but some day or
another...."
He paused, and glanced significantly from his coffers to his son, from
his son to his coffers.
"Harry will be a lucky fellow," murmured Eugene, averting his
countenance, over which, at those words, a brightening gleam had passed.
"Pooh, that fool!"
"That fool, Sir, is your eldest son for all that," laughed the other.
"And if he is, what's that? it's my own, all that.... Besides," lowering
his voice, "mark me, he'll break his neck some of these days."
"Not he, Harry's too good a rider for that; and you know a fool is sure
to live for ever; but even if he died, there's Eustace."
"Eustace--curse him!" was the fatherly ejaculation.
Even the calculating brother now looked a little shocked, and when just
at that moment there came a gentle knock at the door, both started, like
guilty creatures as they were. But the old man glancing at his coffers
with nervous alarm, hurriedly bade his son to wait, shutting them up,
and making them fast with hurried trepidation ere the inopportune
intruder was admitted. It proved to be only Marryott, who presented
herself with a smooth and unsuspecting countenance, to ask whether Mr.
Eugene would not come and partake of the supper she had provided for him
in her own room. And Eugene, though at first about to profess himself
not hungry, on second thoughts, and a glance from his father, changed
his mind, shook hands affectionately with his foster-mother, and
consented to avail himself of her considerate attentions.
A change had come over the young man's dream; a new vista opened before
his eyes; Satan had showed him the kingdoms of the world, and the glory
of them; he must bow the knee and worship.