END OF THE MERE PROFESSOR.
"POOR woman!" exclaimed Helen, wiping her eyes. "I never saw anything
to dislike in her, except that she was Mr. Tracy's wife. I ought to
have pitied her for that. And, only think, she loves him still; loves
him better for his reverses, and the loss of his mind."
"Did you see Mr. Tracy?" inquired Frederic.
"I went to the Penitentiary within an hour. I can't tell you how her
appearance and her devotion to her husband affected me. First, I went
to the hospital, where I heard Monson P. Tracy spent the most of his
time. He was not there. One of the wardens told me I might possibly
find him in the cook's department, or in the blacksmith's shop, where
he had taken a fancy to work.
"Then I went to the office of the physician. He told me that the
Mogul, as Mr. Tracy was called, proved so harmless that he was allowed
considerable freedom. That he often assisted in the kitchen, hanging
clothes on the lines, preparing vegetables for the soups, etc.
"While we were talking, I heard a loud shouting, with suppressed
laughter.
"'Look!' said Dr. Smalley, pointing to a scene under the window.
"I went forward, and there on a tub turned bottom-side up, stood Monson
P. Tracy, haranguing the prisoners in their cells. From every grated
window some hardened face might be seen, watching with a grin, the
antics of the insane man.
"I listened. He was repeating one of his speeches, with all the bombast
and pomp you can imagine. He fancied himself in the Senate chamber, and
stopped continually for the applause he expected from his audience of
convicts. The sight sickened me, and I turned away in disgust.
"'This is one of his most harmless fancies,' remarked Dr. Smalley. 'I
am afraid he has been a very wicked man, corrupt to the core. Sometimes
he imagines himself in a prayer-meeting, and makes remarks or offers
prayer. Then in half an hour he is describing with a chuckle peculiar
to himself' (you remember it, Helen), 'scenes in his past life, the
advantage he has taken of others, his own shrewdness in evading the
law, etc., etc.'
"'Is his case hopeless?' I asked.
"'If you refer to the recovery of his reason, that is simply
impossible. He has softening of the brain.'
"'The Penitentiary does not seem the proper place for him,' I suggested
cautiously.
"He looked fixedly in my face a moment, and then said: 'Of course not.
He should be in the Insane Asylum.'
"'Would it be a difficult matter to have him transferred there?'
"'I thought, Mr. Edmond,' he exclaimed after a moment's pause, 'that
Monson P. Tracy was left in charge of your property and that he was
guilty of a breach of trust!'
"'You thought correctly.'
"'Still you wish his situation improved?'
"'As a Christian, Dr. Smalley, I am bound to forgive those who injure
me; as a man of common humanity, I could not revenge injuries on an
insane convict.'
"He coughed two or three times before he spoke, and walked away to the
window where the speechifying continued. Then he held out his hand
saying, cordially:
"'Perhaps, Mr. Edmond, you will never be a rich man, but if I can judge
of your actions by your treatment of this prisoner, I am sure you will
be a very happy one.'
"I then repeated Mrs. Tracy's request and asked him whether it would
be safe to confide her husband to her care in case some quiet retreat
could be provided.
"'Perfectly so!'
"'Could his discharge be obtained?'
"'Without a doubt, if you and his other wards make such a request.'
"I started to come away when he asked, 'Will you see him?'
"I hesitated and then assented, following the physician through various
departments of labor till we came to a shop where there was a forge.
Monson P. had donned a blacksmith's leather apron, his sleeves were
rolled up to his elbows,—his hair dishevelled and his beard unshorn.
"He knew me at once, and with perfect 'sang froid,' began to talk about
the lead mine.
"He had evidently studied the subject, and for a few moments talked
rationally. But with one of the sudden changes Dr. Smalley tells me
are common with him, he began to chuckle, and then disclosed a plot
for defrauding us and others upon which he evidently prided himself,
laughing and patting my shoulder meanwhile."
[Illustration]
"'I'm a professor you know,' he whispered with a leer, 'and for fifteen
years the parson never found me out,—thought me a saint,—almost ready
for glory, ha! Ha! Ha! I'll cheat him again. I'll vote for an increase
of his salary. I've done it before, or I'll give to the Sunday School,
ha! Ha! Ha! I can afford it. I made a clear thousand out of my wards
last week. Clever wasn't it?' looking in my face with an unmeaning
laugh. 'I'm a professor, and that pays. I couldn't afford to be a
possessor as the parson talks about. Could you now?'
"I seized Dr. Smalley's arm and walked away, the insane man shouting
after me:
"'Come again! You look like a man I used to know. Come again!'"
"Dreadful! Horrible!" cried Helen, hiding her face.
"My next business was to see Quincy's attorney and through him to get
his client's name to my petition for Tracy's release.
"This was more difficult, but I at length accomplished it, after
exhibiting the deed Mrs. Tracy had put into my hands. I then went to
see a real estate agent to find a tenement suitable for my purpose.
This morning he informed me that he had found a cottage fifteen miles
from the city, at a very low rent on account of the difficulty of
access from the cars.
"Now, Helen," added her brother, starting to his feet, "we are only
waiting for you to say you will forgive this man whose iniquities you
understood better than any of us; that you will add your name to my
petition and we will grant Mrs. Tracy's request to confide her husband
to her care."
"It's twelve o'clock, Frank, give me the pen, quick. Shall Frederic
sign too?"
"No, only your own name in full. That's right, now come on, the
carriage will be here directly. This business off my mind, I can attend
to my own."
"I'm proud of you, Frank!" exclaimed Helen, kissing him. "You grow more
like dear papa every day."
The sound of wheels drew them all to the door, and in five minutes they
were whirling off to Mrs. Tracy's humble home.
She was all ready for them, but seemed terribly embarrassed by seeing
Helen and her husband. She held out her hand timidly to the young
bride, but Helen threw her arms about the poor sufferer whispering, "I
pity you Mrs. Tracy with all my heart."
Frank hurried them off with the assertion: "There is not a moment to
lose."
Not a word was spoken until they reached the Penitentiary. Then with a
timid, appealing glance in Helen's face, the poor wife said:
"I hope he'll know me. I hope I can make him happy. He's perfectly
harmless, they say."
"You had better not alight," urged Frank, coming back to the carriage
after a few moments' absence. "I have signed all necessary papers, and
he will be here presently."
Mr. Tracy's voice was heard before he left the building. It was loud
and distinct as usual. He was bidding the physician good-by and
inviting him to spend a few days any time at his country house.
"There is my carriage," he exclaimed, when he came in sight of it. "I
would take you now, if you were dressed,—" (the Doctor wore a linen
coat), "but I'll send for you any day. Ha! Ha! Ha!"
He did not appear the least astonished to see his wife, though he knew
nothing of her coming, he nodded to her and to Helen as he entered,
giving the order to the coachman in a loud, authoritative tone:
"Home, driver!"
While Helen was ready to sink with her varied emotions of pity and
disgust, and the crushed wife was making almost frantic efforts at
self-control, he turned to her with the remark:
"You're dressed in shockingly bad taste, Mrs. Tracy. It is an injury to
my credit to have you seen looking like a pauper."
They were all relieved when the carriage stopped at the depot to allow
Mr. and Mrs. Knowles to alight. Frederic, noble man that he was, had
made up his mind not to leave his new charge until they were safely
settled in their own house.
In five minutes after they left the pavements, the insane man was
asleep. It was then easy to see the ravages occasioned by disease. Mrs.
Tracy gazed at him and wept without restraint.
Mr. Edmond embraced this opportunity to converse with the stricken wife
on the uses she might make of her affliction. He told her God was a
pitying Father, ready to listen to her prayers.
"I shall never, never, forget your kindness nor your sister's," she
repeated again and again. "It has been better than a sermon to me."
Only once again they met, and this was after Mr. Edmond's return from
the West. He received a brief note from Mrs. Tracy informing him of her
husband's decease. The next train of cars carried him to the nearest
station, from which place he secured a conveyance to the cottage.
She looked calmer than he expected, and told him she hoped God had
listened to her cries for forgiveness. Mr. Tracy, in their new home,
had been subject to fits of depression, and then he would suddenly
become exultant, thinking himself in the fill tide of business, and
making revelations to her of fraud and deceit such as she never even
imagined.
At the last he took to writing, and passed hours every day in penning
puffs for his own speeches, which he read aloud to her, as if they were
new to him.
His disease advanced for the last few weeks with frightful rapidity. He
often lay for hours without moving; and one morning she found him dead
in his bed.
Such was the sad end of the mere professor of religion, a dreadful
contrast to the peaceful, triumphant death of the possessor of vital
godliness.
Only one paragraph more and I have done.
Frank Edmond's investigations at the West, resulted in the formation
of a new company to work the lead mine. A fresh vein of ore had
been opened, and there was every reason to believe that independent
fortunes would richly repay every one of the owners. In the course
of five years, a railroad conveyed the ore from the opening of the
mine to the market. A large and flourishing town had sprung up in the
immediate vicinity, a spire and schoolhouse proved the community to be
a Christian one, and Honorable Frank Edmond was sent to Congress to
represent the wants of the new State.