"THE WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS."
It is one of those everlasting truths, which experience and life teach
us every day, that sin brings its own punishment, virtue its own reward:
peace, the great divine reward of conscience to the virtuous; misery and
despair, and that constant apprehension which dreads discovery, and yet
which in itself is worse than discovery, to the transgressors.
"The way of transgressors is hard."
That Bible text was proving itself once more now in the cases of two old
men. John Harman was sinking into his grave in anguish at the thought of
facing an angry God: Jasper Harman was preparing to fly from what, alas!
he dreaded more, the faces of his angry fellow-creatures.
Yes; it had come to this with Jasper Harman; England had become too hot
to hold him; better fly while he could. Ever since the day Hinton had
told him that he had really and in truth heard of the safe arrival of
the other trustee, Jasper's days and nights had been like hell to him.
In the morning, he had wondered would the evening find him still a free
man; in the evening, he had trembled at what might befall him before the
morning dawned. Unaccustomed to any mental anguish, his health began to
give way; his heart beat irregularly, unevenly, he lost his appetite; at
night he either had bad dreams or he could not sleep. This change began
to tell upon his appearance; his hair grew thinner and whiter, he
stooped as he walked, there was very little apparent difference now
between him and John.
He could not bear the Harmans' house, for there he might meet Hinton. He
dreaded his office in the City, for there the other trustee might follow
him and publicly expose him. He liked his club best; but even there he
felt scarcely safe, some one might get an inkling of the tale, there was
no saying how soon such a story, so strange, so disgraceful, pertaining
to so well-known a house as that of Harman Brothers, might get bruited
about. Thus it came to pass that there was no place where this wretched
old man felt safe; it became more and more clear to him day by day that
England was too hot to hold him. All these growing feelings culminated
in a sudden accession of terror on the day that Charlotte, with her
strangely changed face, had asked him the truth with regard to her
father's case, when, with the persistence of almost despair, she had
insisted on knowing the very worst; then had quickly followed the
announcement that her marriage had been broken off by herself; that it
was postponed, her father thought, simply for the short remaining span
of his own life; but Charlotte had taken little pains to conceal from
Uncle Jasper that she now never meant to marry Hinton. What was the
reason of it all? Jasper Harman, too, as well as Hinton, was not
deceived by the reason given. There was something more behind. What was
that something more?
In his terror and perplexity, Jasper opened Hinton's letter. One
sentence in that letter, never meant for him, burnt into the unhappy man
as the very fire of hell.
"I went this morning to Somerset House, and I read your grandfather's
will."
Then Jasper's worst fears had come true; the discovery was made; the
hidden sin brought to the light, the sinners would be dragged any moment
to punishment.
Jasper must leave England that very night. Never again could he enter
his brother's house. He must fly; he must fly at once and in secret, for
it would never do to take any one into his confidence. Jasper Harman had
a hard and evil heart; he was naturally cold and unloving; but he had
one affection, he did care for his brother. In mortal terror as he was,
he could not leave that dying brother without bidding him good-bye.
John Harman had not gone to the City that day, and when Charlotte left
the room, Jasper, first glancing at the grate to make sure that Hinton's
letter was all reduced to ashes, stole, in his usual soft and gliding
fashion, to John's study. He was pleased to see his brother there, and
alone.
"You are early back from the City, Jasper," said the elder brother.
"Yes; there was nothing to keep me this afternoon, so I did not stay."
The two old men exchanged a few more commonplaces. They were now
standing by the hearth. Suddenly John Harman, uttering a half-suppressed
groan, resumed his seat.
"It is odd," he said, "how the insidious something which men call Death
seems to grow nearer to me day by day. Now, as we stood together, I felt
just a touch of the cold hand; the touch was but a feather weight, but
any instant it will come down like a giant on its prey. It is terrible
to stand as I do, looking into the face of Death; I mean it is terrible
for one like me."
"You are getting morbid, John," said Jasper; "you always were given to
look on the dismals. If you must die, as I suppose and fear you must,
why don't you rouse yourself and enjoy life while you may?"
To this John Harman made no answer. After a moment or two of silence,
during which Jasper watched him nervously, he said;--
"As you have come back so early from the City, can you give me two hours
now? I have a great deal I want to say to you."
"About the past?" questioned Jasper.
"About the past."
Jasper Harman paused and hesitated; he knew well that he should never
see his brother again; that this was his last request. But dare he stay?
Two hours were very precious, and the avenger might even now be at the
door. No; he could not waste time so precious in listening to an old,
old tale.
"Will two hours this evening do equally well, John?"
"Yes, if you prefer it. I generally give the evening to Charlotte; but
this evening, if it suits you better."
"I will go now, then," said Jasper.
"Charlotte has told you of her resolve?"
"Yes, and I have spoken to her; but she is an obstinate minx."
"Do not call her so; it is because of her love for me. I am sorry that
she will not marry at once; but it is not, after all, a long
postponement and it is I own, a relief, not to have to conceal my state
of health from her."
"It is useless arguing with a woman," said Jasper. "Well, good-bye,
John."
"Good-bye," said the elder Harman, in some surprise that Jasper's hand
was held out to him.
Jasper's keen eyes looked hard into John's for a moment. He wrung the
thin hand and left the room. He had left for ever the one human being he
loved, and even in his throat was a lump caused by something else than
fear. But in the street and well outside that luxurious home, his love
sank out of sight and his fear returned; he must get out of England that
very night, and he had much to do.
He pulled out his watch. Yes, there was still time. Hailing a passing
hansom he jumped into it, and drove to his bank. There, to the
astonishment of the cashier, he drew all the money he kept there. This
amounted to some thousands. Jasper buttoned the precious notes into a
pocket-book. Then he went to his lodgings and began the task of tearing
up letters and papers which he feared might betray him. Hitherto, all
through his life he had kept these things precious; but now they all
went, even to his mother's portrait and the few letters she had written
to him when a boy at school. Even he sighed as he cast these treasures
into the fire and watched them being reduced to ashes; but though they
had gone with him from place to place in Australia, and he had hoped
never to part from them, he must give them up now, for, innocent as they
looked, they might appeal against him. He must give up all the past,
name and all, for was he not flying from the avengers? flying because of
his sin? Oh! surely the way of transgressors was hard!