"_Macbeth_.--What is 't ye do?
_Witches_.--A deed without a name."
Shakespeare.
In the management of his estates, Colonel Dumont had, for many years,
been assisted by an only brother. This brother was directly the opposite
of himself in character, in aims, in everything. Even in his childhood
this brother had displayed a waywardness of disposition which gave the
promise of much evil in his future years. As the seed sown so was the
harvest. Parental instruction, counsel and rebuke, were alike
unavailing, and he attained the years of manhood morose and
unsympathizing in his disposition, avaricious and hard with his equals,
and cruel and unjust towards his inferiors. His selfish mind, his low
aims, and his tyrannical character, had long been preparing him for
deeds of villany and injustice.
In the earlier years of his life he had been a merchant in New Orleans;
but, being universally detested for his meanness and duplicity, in a
season of general panic in the financial world he was completely ruined,
by the want of those kind offices which are so freely interchanged in
the mercantile community. In this dilemma, he asked his brother's
assistance. Colonel Dumont examined his affairs, and, considering his
position in the community, with the almost hopeless embarrassment of his
concerns, concluded that success under these circumstances was
impossible. He frankly and kindly informed his brother of his
conclusion, and offered him a share in his planting operations. His
brother--Jaspar--was sorely wounded in his pride by this reply. It
generated in him a sentiment, if not of malignity, at least of hatred,
and from that day he was his brother's enemy. Jaspar's business was
gone, and he never allowed his spirit of revenge even to interfere with
his interest; so he availed himself of his brother's offer.
Colonel Dumont trusted much to the gentle influence of his family circle
to soften Jaspar's moroseness, and infuse some principle of charity and
love. But these anticipations proved vain. He was cold and taciturn.
Business alone could call forth the display of his energy, of which he
was possessed of a liberal share. The society of Emily and other ladies
he seemed to shun. The gentle influence of domestic life seemed entirely
wasted upon him. Colonel Dumont was forced to believe his brother a
misanthrope, and no longer strove to soften his character. Emily
regarded his coldness as his natural manner, and left him to the full
enjoyment of his eccentricity. Between persons of such opposite
dispositions there could be, of course, but little sympathy, and that
little was entirely upon one side.
The demon of Jaspar's nature displayed itself in the cane-field and in
the sugar-house, which Colonel Dumont rarely visited, having intrusted
the entire management of the estate to him, his own attention being
occupied by the exterior business of the plantation, and by his city
possessions. The poor negro, who was compelled to submit to cruel usage
and short fare, knew Jaspar's nature better than uncle or niece. His
advent among them had been the era from which they dated the life of
misery they led--a life so different from that they had been accustomed
to under the superintendence of the more Christian brother.
Jaspar Dumont managed the "negro stock" in the true spirit of a demon,
and as such the "hands" learned to regard him. Runaways, which, under
the mild management of his brother, were rarely known, were common now;
and almost the only amusement Jaspar knew was to hunt them down with
rifle and bloodhound.
This state of things Colonel Dumont saw, but he did not appreciate the
reason of it. Himself a rigid disciplinarian, he wished not to
interfere, though the cruelty of Jaspar pained his heart. His failing
health had latterly withdrawn his attention still more from the
plantation, and Jaspar drew the reins the tighter when he saw that the
humane eye was removed from him.
Such was Jaspar Dumont, whom we left in Maxwell's office at the close of
our first chapter.
On the day succeeding the departure of Henry Carroll, Colonel Dumont
felt himself much weaker in body, and was fully impressed with the
conviction that his final sickness had laid its hand upon him. To Emily
he had not communicated these gloomy forebodings, and she had discovered
no alarming symptoms in his illness. She had no suspicion of the nature
of her father's business with Maxwell, and had borne his message to the
attorney, as she had often done before, in her frequent visits to New
Orleans, though on this occasion, as may be supposed, she felt much
delicacy in doing so.
In her absence Colonel Dumont had become more and more impressed with
the omens of a speedy dissolution, and in his uneasiness had despatched
Jaspar with a draft of his intentions, wishing the attorney to write the
will in his office (where he could have his authorities at hand), and
return with his brother.
Maxwell considered the will and his own position, while Jaspar lit
another cigar. Each was striving to penetrate the thoughts of the other,
but neither had the boldness to enter upon the subject which occupied
his mind. The lawyer wanted the lady and the fortune, and he had an
undefined purpose of obtaining them through the agency of Jaspar, who
wanted only the fortune, and had a decided anticipation of being able to
retain the attorney in his service. Neither knew the purposes of the
other; but each wanted the assistance of the other.
Maxwell, with an absent mind, perused and reperused the first page of
Colonel Dumont's instructions. Without a purpose he turned the leaf, and
his attention was attracted by the name of his formidable rival, Henry
Carroll. He read, with astonishment, a bequest to him of fifty thousand
dollars. If it needed anything to complete his discomfiture, this was
sufficient. He began to think Colonel Dumont was in his dotage. He had
scarcely heard of Captain Carroll until his return from Mexico, and now
he was a legatee in the will of a millionaire. With much anxiety he
completed the reading of the instructions, fearful that he should find
the young officer's name in connection with Emily's. To his great relief
he found no such allusion, and again he applied himself to the task of
writing out the will.
Jaspar smoked his cigar, glanced occasionally at the newspaper, and
stared out of the window. He was evidently lost to all around him, in
the workings of his own mind. Now his thoughts seemed to excite him, for
his eye glared with an unusual lustre, and his thin lips moved, as if
they would disclose the operations of his mind. "Will he do it?"
muttered he. "He shall do it, or by ---- he shall suffer! I have the
means of compelling him. I will use them."
Apparently satisfied with his conclusion, he rose hastily and approached
the attorney. A smooth smile--an unwonted expression on his
features--seemed to come on demand. Again he looked over the lawyer's
shoulder. He saw the name of Henry Carroll, and his former severe
expression returned, and his frame was stirred by angry emotions. A
half-suppressed oath did not escape the quick ear of the attorney, and
he turned to observe the face of his companion. He read at a glance the
dissatisfaction which the will occasioned. The reason was plain; and,
with the intention of drawing out Jaspar's views, he addressed him.
"This Carroll is a lucky fellow," said he.
"The devil is always the luckiest fellow in the crowd," growled Jaspar,
with an oath.
"You are right, sir," returned Maxwell, pleased to see no better feeling
between his rival and the uncle.
"But who is this Carroll?" said he.
"A hungry cub, whom the colonel has helped along in the world."
"Well, he has proved himself a brave and skilful officer, and reflects
credit on your brother's judgment in the selection of a _protegé_,"
returned Maxwell, adroitly.
"The fellow is all well enough, for aught I know, but he has wheedled
the colonel out of fifty thousand dollars, and I can never forgive him
for that," said Jaspar, in what was intended for a playful tone, but
which was designed as a "feeler" of the attorney's conscience.
"But there is still an immense property left, even after deducting the
liberal charitable donations," said Maxwell.
"There is, but where does it go to? That whining young cub has divided a
hundred thousand with me, and the silly girl has the rest."
"Which will eventually go into the hands of Captain Carroll,--lucky dog,
he!" returned Maxwell, striving to provoke Jaspar still more.
"What! what mean you, man?" said Jaspar, with a scowl, as he caught a
glimpse of the attorney's meaning.
"Is it possible, my dear sir," said Maxwell, laying down his pen, and
turning half round, "is it possible you have not observed the intimacy
which has grown up between this Carroll and your niece?"
"Intimacy! what do you mean? Speak out! no equivocation!" said Jaspar,
almost fiercely.
"Do you not see that she will yet be the wife of Captain Carroll?"
Jaspar scowled, but said nothing. He had seen nothing from which he
could draw such an inference, but he doubted not the information was
correct.
"Well, well, it matters not. He may as well have it as she," muttered
he. "This will suits me not, and must be broken or altered."
"It _is_ hard upon you," said Maxwell, who had overheard Jaspar's
mutterings.
"It is rather hard to be placed upon the same level with a comparative
stranger," replied Jaspar, thoughtfully, after a long pause. He had not
intended the lawyer should hear his previous remarks, and had reflected
whether he should disown them, or pursue the subject as thus opened.
"Of course you will not mention the idle remark I made," continued
Jaspar, in a vein of prudence. "My brother has an undoubted right to
dispose of his property as he pleases."
"O, certainly. What transpires in my office is always regarded with the
strictest confidence, whatever its nature, and however it affects any
individual," replied Maxwell, laying peculiar emphasis on the latter
clause.
"That's right, always be secret," said Jaspar, without any of the
appearance of obligation for the favor which the attorney expected to
see.
"I have secrets in my possession which would ruin some of the best
families in the State of Louisiana."
"Without doubt," replied Jaspar, coldly.
The attorney resumed his writing, and pronounced in an audible tone each
sentence as he committed it to the paper.
"To my beloved brother--Jaspar Dumont--I give and bequeath the sum of
fifty thousand dollars."
These words, as intended, again fired Jaspar's passions.
"Is there no remedy for this?" asked he, hastily.
"No legal remedy," replied Maxwell, indifferently, as he continued his
task.
"Is there any, legal or illegal?"
"None that an honest man would be willing to resort to."
"That any man would resort to?" and Jaspar was not a little provoked at
the attorney's moral inferences.
"I know of none."
"I do."
"Then why do you not put it into operation before it is too late? The
will is now nearly written."
"Pshaw! man; you do not understand me. A bolder step than you are
thinking of."
"Well, what do you wait for?"
"I need assistance."
"If I can afford you any aid, _honorably_, I shall be most happy."
"_Honorably_! What the devil do you mean by _honorably_?" said Jaspar,
exasperated by this unexpected display of morality.
"What do I mean by honorably? Why, anything which does not affect the
legal or moral rights of others," replied Maxwell, a little touched by
the seeming reflection of Jaspar.
"Fudge! how long have you been so conscientious?" sneered Jaspar.
"When a man has a reputation to make or break, it becomes him to handle
it with care."
"Out upon you, man! _Your_ reputation is not so fair, that you need be
so tender of it," replied Jaspar, with some severity.
"Sir!"
"O, you needn't '_sir_' me! You have led me to commit myself, and now
assume a virtue you possess not."
"Sir, I value my reputation, and--"
"Of course you do, but you would not sacrifice a fortune for it,"
interrupted Jaspar, easily changing the tenor of the conversation.
"I certainly would not stain it unnecessarily," replied Maxwell, with a
meaning smile, for he saw the folly of attempting the "high flight" with
Jaspar.
"Now you talk sensibly," said Jaspar.
"Mr. Dumont, it is useless to beat about the bush any longer; if you
have any proposition to make, out with it at once; and if I cannot aid
you, I will, at least, keep your secret."
"Will you swear never to reveal what I shall propose?"
"Yes, if paid for it," said Maxwell, frankly.
"It is well. Now, I will put you in the way of making ten thousand
dollars, if you so will," said Jaspar, slapping the attorney on the back
with a familiarity which was likely to breed contempt.
This was a tempting offer, and Maxwell prepared to listen to the
proposition. He was aware that it was some design upon the estate of
Colonel Dumont, and he inwardly resolved to be a gainer by the
operation, whether he joined in it or not.
Jaspar Dumont laid aside his sternness, and disclosed his plot to
Maxwell. It was, as may be supposed, a nefarious scheme, and not only
intended to deprive Henry Carroll of his legacy, but also to disinherit
the heiress, and cast a stigma upon the character of his brother.
The plot we will not here disclose.
Maxwell listened attentively, occasionally interrupting the speaker, by
asking for details, or pointing out dangers But the foul wrong intended
towards her for whom he entertained warmer sentiments than those of
friendship shocked even his hardened sensibilities, and he strongly
objected to its consummation. It would also, by stripping her of her
broad lands, and stigmatizing her birth, render her undesirable as a
wife. But Jaspar was firm in his purpose, and refused to listen to any
other scheme. This one, he contended, was the safest and surest.
"But it is a diabolical transaction," suggested Maxwell.
"Call it what you will, it is the only one that will work well."
Maxwell remained silent. He was studying to make this scheme subservient
to his own purpose. He was obliged to confess to himself that his hopes
with the heiress were worse than folly, and he judged that the execution
of Jaspar's scheme would remove his rival. He looked forward years, and
saw his own purpose gained by means of Jaspar's plan. It was true that
he and Jaspar both could not have her estates; but then Jaspar was a
villain, and it would be a good service, at a convenient season, to be a
traitor to him. His plans were arranged, and he determined to encourage
his companion to proceed, though, at the same time, to seem unwilling,
and to keep his own hands clean from all participation in it.
After this long interval of silence, which Jaspar had endured with
patience, for he recognized the truth of the saying, that "He who
deliberates is damned," Maxwell said,
"I cannot consent to stain my hands with such gross injustice."
"You cannot!" sneered Jaspar.
"It would ruin me."
"It was part of my intention to keep the transaction a secret," said
Jaspar, sarcastically.
"Of course, and your confidence in me shall not be misplaced."
Jaspar's fists were clenched, and a demoniacal expression rested on his
countenance, as he said, savagely,
"You know your own interest too well to do otherwise."
"I am not to be intimidated," replied Maxwell, who despised his
companion most heartily, and did not relish his tyrannical manner. "Your
confidence, I repeat, is safe. _Honor_ will keep your secret,--threats
will not compel me to do so."
"_Honor_! ha, ha, ha!" chuckled Jaspar. "Do you know, Maxwell, that you
are a ---- fool, to talk to me of your honor?"
"Would you insult me, sir?" said, Maxwell, with vehemence.
"O, no, my fine fellow! _Your_ honor!--ha, ha!" returned Jaspar, taking
from his pocket a little slip of paper. "Look here, my _honorable_
worthy, do you know this check?"
Maxwell's face assumed a livid hue, and a convulsive tremor passed
through his frame, as he read the check.
In a moment of temporary embarrassment he had been tempted to forge the
name of Colonel Dumont to this check, for five hundred dollars, to
liquidate a debt of honor, not doubting that he should be able to obtain
it again before the day of settlement at the bank, by means of a
dissolute teller, a boon companion at the gaming-table. But Colonel
Dumont, in arranging his affairs for their final settlement, had sent
Jaspar for a statement of his bank account at an unusual time. Jaspar,
who, in the illness of his brother, had managed all his business,
immediately discovered the forgery. Without disputing its genuineness,
he ascertained who had presented it, and traced the deed to the
attorney, and thus obtained a hold upon him which was peculiarly
favorable to the execution of his great purpose.
"You see I have not laid myself open to your fire without fortifying my
position," said Jaspar, enjoying, with hearty relish, the discomfiture
of the lawyer. "Now, no more of _honor_ to me. I have kept your secret
for my own interest, and now you will keep mine from the same motive."
"But I _dare_ not do this thing," replied Maxwell, keenly sensitive to
the weakness of his position; "I lack the ability."
"You have signed the colonel's name once very well; perhaps you can do
it again," sneered Jaspar, who had no mercy for an unwilling servant.
"It will not be for your interest or mine that I should do it," returned
Maxwell, determined, if possible, to avoid committing himself.
"Why not?" said Jaspar.
"My frequent visits to Bellevue would subject me to suspicion. I am
known. Another would not be suspected. If I clear myself, I shall clear
you at the same time. I can procure a person who will accomplish all in
safety."
"Think you I will trust another man with the possession of the secret?"
"I shall compromise my own safety by writing the will, as you propose."
"True,--who is this person?"
"His name is--" and Maxwell hesitated; then a severe fit of coughing
apparently prevented his uttering the name--"his name is Antoine De
Guy."
"Do I know him?"
"You do, I think,--a kind of _street_ lawyer,--you must have met him at
the Exchange."
"What looking man is he?"
"About fifty years of age," replied Maxwell, more thoughtful than the
simple description of a person would seem to require,--"rather
corpulent, black hair and whiskers, intermixed with gray,--dresses
old-fashioned, and always looks rusty."
"I do not remember him,--De Guy--De Guy," said Jaspar, musing; "no, I do
not know him. Are you confident he can be trusted?"
"Perfectly confident. I pledge my own safety on his fidelity," replied
Maxwell, not a little satisfied at gaining his point,--for he had a
point, and a strong one, as the reader may yet have occasion to know.
"Very good,--I will inquire about him."
"And expose us both!" replied Maxwell, in much alarm.
"True,--on reflection, it would not be wise, and it would be best for
you and I not to be seen together. But finish the will; the colonel will
not relish my long absence. A word more: do not say anything about
_this_ will. The colonel has a fancy to keep it secret, and this fancy
will be the salvation of our scheme."
But we will not follow the conversation any further. The reader has
obtained a sufficient knowledge of these worthies from their own mouths,
to believe them capable of any villany they may be called upon to
perpetrate.
The plot was further arranged in all its details. A meeting with De Guy
was fixed for the next day, when all parties were to be prepared to act
their parts.