A FULL CONFESSION.
“Boat ahoy!” shouted Capt. Crogick, as the men began to pull for the
cutter.
“On board the ship!” replied Mr. Graves.
“The lady has consented to go to the cutter,” added the captain.
“She is too late now: if I find the captain of the cutter desires her
presence, I will return for her; but I have the impression that she
will not be needed.”
“But she does not wish to be separated from her husband,” persisted
Capt. Crogick.
“Bear my regrets to her; but, as she chose to remain, I prefer to
indulge her for the present; and the captain of the cutter shall decide
whether he desires her presence,” answered the officer, as the boat
passed out of hearing distance.
“I was not aware that the lady was Mrs. Simpson,” said Mr. Graves to
his prisoner.
“This is an outrage; and I think I have friends enough at Washington to
see justice done to me,” said the cashier, who found it necessary to
say something to keep his courage up, and to preserve appearances.
“I certainly hope you will have justice done to you; but I am afraid it
is the very thing you do not want,” answered the officer.
“I thought you said you knew nothing whatever about the matter; and yet
you treat me as though I were a fugitive from justice,” replied Mr.
Simpson.
“I do not know with what you are charged, or even that you are charged
with any thing: I only know that you concealed yourself in the ship,
and it cost half an hour to find you. I have generally noticed that
people who have done nothing wrong do not hide from any one; and, on
the other hand, I have observed that those who are guilty are the ones
who hide. That is really all I know about it.”
The defaulter said nothing more; but he did a deal of heavy thinking
while the boat was going to the cutter. He could not imagine how his
secret had come into the possession of the captain of the cutter. He
had taken pains to cover all his tracks: he had bribed every man in the
yacht, and he was confident that none of them had betrayed him. It was
possible that the cutter had witnessed his removal to the ship; and
he could explain his misfortune in no other way. But he had not many
minutes to think, for the boat was soon alongside the cutter.
Mr. Simpson was conducted to the deck of the steamer, where Capt.
Singleton stood waiting for him. Neither Wade nor Lon was on deck, for
the captain had required them to stay in the cabin till he had seen the
defaulter.
“How many passengers did you find in the ship, Mr. Graves?” asked the
captain.
“Only this gentleman and his wife, besides the captain’s wife. This is
Mr. John Simpson. His wife declined to come, unless I brought her by
force, which I did not care to do without further orders,” answered Mr.
Graves. “After I had started to return, the lady changed her mind, and
wished to come with her husband.”
“I do not desire her presence. I directed you to bring all the
passengers, so that I might be sure to get the right one,” added the
captain, as he turned to his prisoner. “Take a seat, Mr. Simpson;” and
he placed a camp-stool for him.
“What is your business with me, captain?” demanded Mr. Simpson,
mustering up all the courage he could assume.
“I am somewhat curious to know who and what you are; and you will
oblige me by satisfying my curiosity,” said the captain, in the
gentlest of tones.
“Your officer has given you my name. The captain of that ship is my
brother-in-law; and I was going with him on a voyage for the benefit
of my health. If there is any thing wrong about that, I should like to
know what it is,” said Mr. Simpson.
“Perfectly right and laudable: the sea often has a good effect upon
invalids; but it seems to me that the way you went on board of the ship
was not quite regular.”
The cashier gave the explanation which had been agreed upon before.
“Where do you reside when you are at home, Mr. Simpson?”
“In Albany; and I am engaged in the grocery business. I am forty-one
years old. I have a wife, but no children. I have been out of health
for the last six months, and”--
“Do you know any thing about banking?” interposed the captain.
“As much as most business men who have dealings with banks.”
“Well, Mr. Wallgood,--I beg your pardon: Mr. Simpson,--but I have an
idea that you know more of banking than the ordinary man of business.”
“Why do you call me Mr. Wallgood, when you know that my name is
Simpson?” asked the cashier, who wanted to know with what he was
charged; for it did not seem possible to him that the knowledge of his
defalcation could have come out so far at sea.
“I have in mind a gentleman of that name,--the cashier of the Walnut
National Bank,--who has just left Midhampton with a hundred thousand
dollars belonging to the bank. He was a man about your size. Do you
know any thing about him, Mr. Simpson?”
“I don’t know any thing about him,” replied the defaulter, with his
heart in his throat.
“You must excuse me, Mr. Simpson; but I have a suspicion that this
cashier was brought off from New York in the yacht ‘Moonlight,’ and
put on board of the ship ‘Housatonic.’ Have you seen any thing of him?”
“There is no such person on board of the ship,” replied Mr. Simpson,
struggling to appear unmoved under this trying ordeal.
“Just now he is not in the ship; but wasn’t he in the cabin when you
were?” asked the captain quietly, and as though he had not the least
interest in the question.
“No, sir. No such person is or has been on board of the ship,”
protested the cashier.
“You will excuse me if I press this matter far enough to satisfy myself
that you are not the person for whom I am in search.”
“Do you for a moment suppose that I am the one who robbed the bank?”
demanded Mr. Simpson, with all the indignation he could throw into his
tones.
“You mistake this matter: I said distinctly that I wish to prove that
you are not this person.”
“That shows that I am under suspicion.”
“It has that look, Mr. Simpson; but I am willing to take either way you
like, and will prove that you are, or that you are not, the person, as
you may elect.”
“It is all the same thing,” groaned the defaulter.
“Very well: then I will try to show that you are not the person. I have
some witnesses to examine; and, as I intend to be as fair as I can,
you may ask them any questions you please,” added the captain, as he
beckoned to a steward, who was waiting near him.
“Witnesses!” exclaimed the cashier, who did not believe that anybody
who knew him could be on board of the cutter.
“Call the first stowaway,” added the captain to the steward. “If I find
that you are not Mr. Wallgood, you shall return to the ship; and I will
tow her far enough to make up for the delay to which I have subjected
her.”
Wade Brooks came on deck clothed in the suit of clothes provided for
him when he came on board. The cashier did not recognize him; for he
had seen him only in the gloom of the cabin. He wondered what that boy
could know about him.
“Do you know this gentleman, Wade Brooks?” asked the captain, as soon
as the boy came to him.
“I do, sir. It is Mr. Wallgood, the cashier of the Walnut National
Bank,” replied Wade.
“How do you know it is, my lad?”
“Because I often saw him in Midhampton; and I saw him night before last
on board of the ‘Moonlight;’ and I heard him own that he had taken a
hundred thousand dollars from the bank,” replied Wade.
“I never saw the boy before in my life,” protested the cashier.
“Yes, you have, sir; and you gave me a hundred dollars to keep still.
And I told you I would keep still if I was allowed to keep the money;
but Capt. Bendig took it from me,” added Wade.
It was all plain enough to the cashier now. This boy had told the
people of the cutter all about the doings on board of the yacht; and it
appeared that he had listened to the conversation between himself and
his wife. It was no use to hold out any longer.
“Do you wish to ask this boy any questions, Mr. Simpson?” said Capt.
Singleton.
“No, none,” replied the cashier despondingly.
“Bring the other,” added the captain to the steward; and a moment later
came Lon Trustleton.
“Why, how do you do, Mr. Wallgood?” exclaimed the president’s son. “I’m
sure I didn’t think of seeing you here.”
“What do you mean by calling that gentleman Mr. Wallgood?” asked the
captain of the cutter. “His name is Simpson.”
“This gentleman! He is the cashier of my father’s bank; and I think I
ought to know his name, for I see him almost every day in the week,”
replied Lon.
“I will give it up, captain,” groaned the defaulter, covering his face
with both his hands. “Do with me as you please.”
“Why, what’s the matter, Mr. Wallgood?” asked Lon, astonished at the
conduct of the cashier. “If you are in trouble, my father will help you
out of it.”
“I don’t believe he will this time,” said the cashier, unable to
control his emotion. “I have robbed the bank of one hundred thousand!
I may as well speak it out; for there is no longer any hope for me. I
wish I was at the bottom of the sea!”
Suddenly he made a rush for the side of the vessel. But the captain saw
what he intended to do; and two strong men seized him before he could
leap overboard, and end his wretched life in the watery grave of a
suicide.
“If you are going to do any thing of that sort, I shall put you in
irons,” said the captain, as the sailors led him back to his seat. “One
thing more. What have you done with the money you took from the bank?”
“It is on board of the ship,” replied the defaulter with a shudder.
“Possibly, if you restore it, they may not prosecute you; for that is
the fashion of the times.”
Mr. Wallgood consented to do this; but, before a boat could be sent
to the “Housatonic,” Capt. Crogick and the cashier’s wife came to the
cutter. They were astounded to hear of the wretched man’s confession;
for they had anticipated nothing so bad as this.