Rising in the World CHAPTER 9.
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Five years had not passed over the head of Lawrence Dunbar without advances being made by him in certain quarters for the purpose of securing an advantageous matrimonial alliance. That was something of which he never for a moment lost sight. Three times had he met with signal failures; but a renewed effort, and in a new quarter, promised a somewhat better result.
A young lady named Henrietta Merton, said to be worth sixty or seventy thousand dollars in her own right, made her appearance in fashionable circles a few months before the time Dunbar thought it wise to dissolve the business relation that had for some years existed between him and Mr. Harker. Miss Merton was from Baltimore, and had come to live with a relative, a widow lady, residing in Philadelphia. About her personal appearance, there was nothing attractive; neither were her manners agreeable, nor her conversation intelligent and interesting. Two or three fortune hunters approached, as soon as her money-value became known, but there was something about her which instinctively repulsed them.
As Miss Merton was a near relative of a certain very distinguished citizen of Maryland, and had connections of standing and wealth in Philadelphia, her introduction into fashionable circles was direct. Dunbar was not long in finding her out; nor did he allow space for much hesitation before becoming her devoted admirer. The young attorney was handsome and agreeable; and everyone spoke of him as possessing talents of a high order that would inevitably carry him up to a distinguished position. His attentions were of the most flattering kind — and Miss Merton was flattered by them. The conquest was easier than Dunbar had expected. The lady's heart was won at the first assault. After having gained the prize, the lawyer began to think more seriously about the value, and to feel a desire to know something more certain on that head. Common report set down the fortune of Miss Merton at seventy thousand dollars. It might be more or it might be less; but to no prudent investigation ventured upon came any satisfactory answer. It would not do to press the matter too closely, lest, by some means, his affection for the lady's money instead of herself, should get wind and be breathed into her ears. The understanding in regard to her wealth was so general and decided, that Dunbar felt pretty well satisfied that he had gained a prize in the matrimonial lottery.
A more intimate association with Miss Merton, after the engagement had taken place, made Dunbar acquainted with points in her character which were by no means agreeable. She possessed a strong self-will; had very contracted views of everything, and was passionate in the extreme.
Whatever her money might do for him, it was soon clear to his mind, that, personally, she would reflect no light upon him in society. Take her all in all, she was the most uninteresting and unattractive woman he had ever known. To this conclusion he was reluctantly forced, in less than three months after his betrothment.
But from her, to her sixty or seventy thousand dollars, his thoughts would turn, and then he always breathed more freely. He was anxious for the time to come when that pretty little fortune would be fully within his possession.
"Add that to what I already have," he would sometimes say, "and I think I may not fear to shake my fist in the world's face and bid it defiance."
The young attorney would have named an early day for the marriage, but the lady was in no hurry. The ensuing spring, she thought quite time enough. It was then midsummer. Delicacy forbade his urging the matter, and so he submitted to lie out of her handsome fortune for six or eight months, with as good a grace as possible.
The lawyer of old Mr. Harrison called upon that gentleman on the morning following his interview with Dunbar.
"He has declined the proposition," said Harrison, as soon as the attorney appeared.
"Has he, indeed?"
"Yes. Here is his note, declaring it his intention, under advice of counsel, to prosecute the matter to a decision."
"He has good counsel, and will, doubtless, run us hard, though I by no means consider the case desperate. If a compromise could be effected, however, I cannot but think it would be the wisest for us to accept it."
"But how is it to be brought about?
"Every man has his price."
"So I hold."
"And this Dunbar among the rest."
"No doubt of it."
"He is to get ten thousand dollars if he succeeds in establishing his client's right in the property you hold."
"So I understand."
"It is the fee, and nothing else, that binds him to Malcolm."
"Then you think Dunbar has a money-price."
"I am sure of it. Could anything but the money of Miss Merton tempt him into a marriage contract with her, which I am told has actually been formed."
"You must be in error," said Mr. Harrison, with a look of surprise.
"No, I believe not."
"With Miss Merton?"
"Yes."
The old gentleman indulged himself for a moment or two in an inward laugh or chuckle, and then said —
"Well, how are we to manage this sharp young attorney, who has arrayed his artillery in such a formidable style?"
"By paying him better for losing Malcolm's suit, than Malcolm pays him for gaining it."
"Aha! is that your game? And you think this can be done?"
"I have no doubt of it."
"You think he can sacrifice his client if so disposed."
"Oh, yes. By the introduction of some defect in his bill, he can put it in my power to throw him out of court on a demurrer."
"But that will not settle the matter. Malcolm can order him or some other lawyer to begin de novo with an amended bill."
"True; but before that can be done, the costs must all be paid. They may be made so heavy that Malcolm will find himself in no condition to settle them. Then, by executing what little he has, under an order of the court for the recovery of costs, we may break him up root and branch and so get rid of him in that way."
"You're a sharp set of boys," said old Mr. Harrison. "And I rather think a man's a fool to allow you to get him into your hands. If I'd paid this Malcolm the twenty-five thousand dollars he originally asked, I would have been wise. Now I shall think myself well off, if I escape with a loss of double that sum."
"I won't be so bad as that, I guess. I am very sure that an offer of twenty-five or thirty thousand dollars will completely silence all scruples of conscience that Dunbar may happen to have, and fully satisfy his avarice."
"Twenty-five or thirty, indeed! I agree with you that he has his price, and a pretty high one it is, by the way. He must be more reasonable than that."
"Shall I feel his pulse?"
"Oh, yes. It will do no harm to know how it beats."
"A precious set of rascals!" exclaimed Harrison, after the lawyer had left him.
"This Dunbar is the man I once heard Harker prophesy would rise in the world. And he is rising sure enough. At this rate of elevation, he will soon be out of sight of all honest men. But he's keen if he gets ahead of me in this affair. If I am not mistaken, I can play off a card upon him that he little dreams is in my hand. And as for my own keen attorney — I will take good care never again to venture on the ocean of law with him as my pilot. The man who would propose a bribe — would take one."
"I have felt his pulse," said the lawyer of Harrison, sententiously, as that gentleman entered his office, and leisurely seated himself, a few days afterwards.
"Well. How does it beat?"
"Healthily as we could wish. He is not adverse; but, as I supposed he would do, fixes his price high."
"How much."
"He must have thirty thousand dollars."
"The devil he must! You did not go wide of the mark when you named the price that would buy him."
"No. It seems that I was correct. I thought I knew him pretty well."
"Then for thirty thousand dollars guaranteed to him in case we make good our defense through a flaw in his bill — he will so frame his bill as to leave room for a demurrer?"
"Yes. That is what he assents to."
"Very well; we understand him clearly. Now what is your opinion? Shall we pay him this large sum to give us the case, or shall we push on, and try to get it in spite of him?"
"I am clearly of opinion," replied the lawyer, "that we ought to plough with Malcolm's heifer, seeing that he is ready to bend his neck to the yoke. It will cost something, but it makes so much sure."
"Very well. You can arrange the matter with Dunbar. At the proper time, I will be ready to fulfill my part of the contract."
"He is not willing to act as proposed, unless he has the most ample security that the amount specified will be forthcoming," said the lawyer, slightly hesitating as he spoke.
"Ah! I suppose not," replied Harrison. "Let him name the security he wants, and I will see if I cannot satisfy him."
"Very well. That is all he asks."
"Tell him," said Harrison, "to be sure that the flaw in the bill is palpable. It would be folly for him to undertake the matter and not do it well."
"I will myself see to that," replied the lawyer.
"How soon will the case come up?" asked Harrison.
"The longer we can keep it off, the better."
"How so?"
"By that means we shall accumulate heavy costs, which will have to be settled before a new bill can be filed."
"Ah! Yes, I see."
"I hardly think we shall get an argument on the demurrer before six or nine months."
"So long? I wish it could be earlier."
"There is too much at stake to hurry the matter."
"True. I must leave all to your better judgment."
The lawyer and his client parted, each thinking that he understood the other fully; but both were a little mistaken in this.
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