Trial and Triumph CHAPTER 12.
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During all this period, Emerson, although he called to see Caroline three or four times every week, did not obtain a glimpse of Mary, nor did anyone mention her name in his hearing. In fact the only evidence he had of her presence in the family, was the letter received from her, enclosing a hundred dollars. All dread of interference on her part was nearly removed from his mind, when, one evening, about a week before the wedding-day, as he sat in the parlor alone, awaiting the appearance of Caroline, he was startled by her entrance. She came in with a slow, noiseless step, her face thinner and paler than he had ever seen it, and her eyes fixed intently upon him.
"Philip," said she, in a firm voice, yet speaking only a little above a whisper. "I wish to ask you one question."
"For Heaven's sake, Mary!" exclaimed the young man, evincing great alarm, and lifting both hands deprecatingly as he spoke — "Go away! Go quickly! or you will ruin me."
"I wish to ask you one question," repeated the immoveable girl, approaching still nearer. "Did you write that letter to Mrs. Barker?"
"What letter? No!" he replied.
"The letter warning her not to receive me into her family; and alluding to the money you sent my mother, as if sent to me?"
"Mad girl! Do you wish to destroy me?" exclaimed Emerson, in much distress and perplexity. "What right have you to interrogate me in this way? Go! Go!" And he waved his hand imperatively.
"I shall not go until I am satisfied on the subject of my inquiry," replied Mary, in a voice so calm and resolute, that Emerson saw no hope but in trying to convince her that he was innocent.
"I have told you that I did not write the letter," said he. "What more can I do?"
"Why did you send my mother a hundred dollars at the very moment of my application for the situation of governess here?"
"That application first made known to me the extremity of your family. My letter fully explained my motive."
"How is it, that, immediately after this sum is sent, I am charged, in a letter to Mrs. Barker, with receiving money from a young man who was about marrying in a wealthy and respectable family? I want that explained, Philip Emerson! The two facts hang too nearly together. I cannot but regard you as the author of that base letter to Mrs. Barker, reason the subject as I will."
"I tell you that I did not write it, Mary," said the young man, with a show of indignation. "Is not that enough? Now leave me!"
A noise of footsteps was heard along the passage at this moment.
"Go! Go!" exclaimed the distressed Emerson, in a husky whisper.
For a moment or two Mary paused, and then glided from the room. Caroline Barker entered through another door as she vanished from the sight of the agitated young man.
"Who was that?" asked Caroline, in an indifferent tone.
"One of your servants," replied Emerson, turning his face partly away as he spoke. "Oh! I imagined, as I caught a glimpse of her dress, that it was Mary Lynn."
"Mary Lynn? Who is she?"
"Don't you know? Our governess."
"Not the mad girl who charged me with writing some letter about her?"
"Yes, the same."
"Is it possible? I thought, of course, that she was in an insane asylum?"
"Very far from it. I wish all the world were as sane and as good as she is. Some enemy tried to prejudice mother against her in an anonymous letter, and, in the distress occasioned thereby, she wildly charged you with having written it."
"Wildly enough! I had never seen nor heard of the girl. She acknowledged, I believe, that she didn't know what she was doing at the time?"
"Oh, yes, but it was a false and cruel thing thus to seek to injure one so innocent and so friendless. None but a wicked and depraved wretch could have been guilty of such an act."
"I can well believe that." And Emerson again averted his face as he spoke.
"But what could have been the motive?" said Caroline. "That has always puzzled me."
"What is her own view of the matter?" asked the young man, concealing the interest he felt in the answer.
"I do not know. She never alluded to the subject."
"Have you never spoken to her about it?"
"Yes, but she evades all direct answers."
"Who is she?" asked Emerson.
"You remember the late Justin Lynn?"
"Very well. She is not his daughter?"
"Yes."
"I was not aware of that. Why, I thought Mr. Lynn left a very handsome property at his death?"
"So he did. But it was all lost in the failure of the United States Bank."
"How unfortunate! And now his poor daughter is compelled to support herself by acting as governess in your family. Really, hers is a sad case!"
"Indeed it is. And we sympathize with her very much."
"She cannot be very happy," said Emerson.
"She is far more cheerful than I could ever be under such circumstances. Still, something evidently preys upon her mind. Mother thinks that it is the letter."
"Why should that prey upon her mind? No one in the family regards it in any other light, than as a slander."
"I know. Still, there is a mystery about it that is unexplained. I must have a more earnest conversation with her on the subject, and try if I cannot see a little deeper into her thoughts."
This declaration, coupled with the fact, that Mary had, only a few moments before, demanded of him explanations on the same subject, produced a state of greater anxiety than that from which he was already suffering. He replied, with affected commiseration for Mary,
"If the subject is so unpleasant to the poor girl, I don't think I would press it upon her."
Caroline made no answer to this, when Emerson changed the theme of conversation. He did not remain long on this occasion, for he was momentarily in fear of seeing Mary re-enter the parlor to interrogate him still further about that unwisely sent letter.
The new system of money-raising adopted by Emerson worked like a charm. He was no longer forced upon the street to borrow at one and two percent a month in order to meet his payments. All he found necessary, was to give Baldwin two or three days' notice, and, in due time, checks for a few hundred dollars above the amount desired, were sure to come. The excess was paid to the dashing, fast-living young man, and the remainder passed to his loan account, to be returned at some period as yet but dimly seen in the future. It was by this loan-feature of the case, that Emerson quieted his conscience; and by which he expected to clear himself from all blame, if Baldwin's dishonest transactions should ever see the light; a circumstance which he flattered himself was not soon likely to occur, as the swindling transaction was a very ingenious one, and managed with consummate skill.
Already had Emerson received from the young bank officer, over twenty thousand dollars, and the drain was still going on. Baldwin was living faster and freer — so much so that the eyes of many were looking upon him with suspicion, and Emerson occasionally heard, from one and another, remarks that produced in his own mind, no very pleasant reflections. Two or three days before the time at which the marriage was to take place, Mr. Barker said to him,
"Do you know this young Baldwin, who is a book-keeper in the Traders' Bank?"
"I have met him occasionally," replied Emerson, the color deepening in his face at this unexpected question, asked, as he conceived, in a meaning tone, and with a purpose.
Mr. Barker saw the change in the young man's countenance and wondered, momentarily, as to its meaning.
"He lives fast," said he, "for a young man with a salary of only twelve hundred dollars."
"He may have something beyond his salary," suggested Emerson.
"I doubt that," was replied. "I knew his father very well. He was a poor man, and had nothing to give his son."
"Is he a married man?" asked Emerson, affecting ignorance.
"Yes, and his wife looks like a jeweler's walking advertisement. There's something wrong, you may depend on it. Baldwin is living at the rate of at least two or three thousand dollars a year. I wonder that the directors of the bank retain him in the institution."
"If the business of his desk is faithfully done, they can have no fault to find with him." said Emerson.
"No," was replied; "not unless he puts his hand in the money-drawer."
"Surely, Mr. Barker!" exclaimed Emerson, with well affected surprise, "you don't suspect anything of that kind?"
"A man must get money — before he can spend it," said Mr. Barker. "Now where does this young man get two or three thousand dollars a year to squander at the rate he is squandering money?"
"He may go into debt," suggested Emerson.
Mr. Barker shook his head with an incredulous air.
Emerson remained silent, perplexed in thought, and doubtful whether to say anything further, or change the subject of discourse. Many unpleasant suggestions flitted through his mind. Could it be possible that Mr. Barker had a suspicion of the real truth, and that a motive governed him in asking these questions?
"The fact is," said Mr. Barker, as if coming to a sudden resolution, "I will give one of the directors, who is a personal and intimate friend, the benefit of my suspicions. He can act afterwards as be sees best. Something is undoubtedly wrong, and the quicker it is set right, the better."
"There's trouble ahead!" was the anxiously uttered ejaculation of Emerson, as soon as he was alone. "What can be in the man's mind? Baldwin does dash too much. I've told him so a good many times. But he's insane on this subject; and doesn't seem to imagine that he attracts invidious attention."
While these thoughts were passing through his mind, he received the following note from Baldwin:
"My Dear Sir: Enclosed are four checks for the sum of two thousand dollars. Turn them into money during the day if you please. I will call after the bank closes for a thousand. The balance you can, no doubt, use to good advantage. Baldwin."
"This has gone far enough!" thus spoke Emerson to himself
as he replaced the checks in the envelope from which he had removed them, and put the whole, including Baldwin's note, under seal. "Suspicion will soon be aroused against him, and then the hunting down will prove quick work. How far am I safe? That is the all important question! Are any of his letters to me yet undestroyed?"
Emerson commenced a hurried search in his desk, and among files of letters. Two notes from Baldwin were discovered and promptly destroyed.
"No evidence among my papers can be found," said he, after finishing this work. "The credits in my ledger are for money loaned. It is no business of mine where he got the money from."
Still Emerson was far from feeling at ease in his mind — very far. His fellowship with Baldwin had shown him some things in his character that a good deal marred his confidence. He was by no means certain that the young man would not, in case his embezzlements were discovered, refer to him as his accomplice. Anxiously did he await his promised appearance after the closing of the bank.
"Did you draw those checks?" was the smiling and rather eager inquiry of Baldwin, on calling in to see Emerson about four o'clock.
"No," was the gravely uttered answer.
"Why not? I'm sorry," returned Baldwin, looking disappointed. "I wanted a thousand dollars particularly this afternoon. Indeed, I must have that sum."
"For what purpose?" asked Emerson.
"To buy a horse."
"A horse!"
"Yes. The most splendid trotter you ever saw. I rode out behind him, yesterday, and he went past everything on the road. His price is a thousand dollars; but I have made up my mind to own him. In fact, have bought him, and am to pay down the cash by five o'clock, today."
"You mustn't do it," said Emerson, in a firm voice, and with an expression of face that rather sobered the feelings of young Baldwin.
"Why not?" asked the latter.
"Only that act of folly is needed to complete your ruin," said Emerson.
"What do you mean?" Baldwin looked frightened.
"This dashing folly, against which I have so often warned you, has awakened suspicion."
"How do you know?"
"I have heard it from various quarters. Today Mr. Barker referred to it, and did not hesitate to give it as his opinion, that the money you spent so freely, came out of the bank."
"He did?"
"It is too true — but how can you wonder that such is the case? I do not. Moreover — and this is the worst of it — he said he would call the attention of one of your directors to the fact this very day, and suggest an inspection of your accounts."
"Let them inspect!" exclaimed Baldwin, with assumed indifference. Yet, even while he spoke, his cheeks blanched. "Confound the meddlesome old rascal!" he added, with much bitterness. "I wonder what business he has to trouble himself with my affairs. Let him mind his own."
"Suppose they examine your books," said Emerson. "What will be the result?"
"That will depend entirely upon how they examine them. If cursorily, they'll find nothing unless by accident. And even a careful examination will reveal nothing, unless they happen to discover the trick."
"If you had only been prudent in your way of living," said Emerson, "then suspicion might have been entirely avoided. In a few years you could have resigned your clerkship, and lived at ease for the remainder of your life. Suppose the thing is found out now! What will be the consequence?"
"Dear knows! But I won't think of that. I don't believe it will be found out."
"My fears lead me to a different conclusion. I anticipate the worst; and with good reason."
"You need be under no apprehension. You are safe," said Baldwin.
"I'm not so certain of that!" sighed Emerson.
"You certainly are. No one will suspect you in the matter."
"I don't know."
"I do, then. The secret is yours and mine; and there are too many weighty reasons why I should not betray you. The first and strongest is, that you are stake-holder. In case of difficulty, I can fall back upon the funds in your hands; and money is all potent, you know."
Even while Baldwin talked in this way, his cheek was pale and his lips quivered. The approach of danger, too, had opened his eyes; and he now saw, with a clearness that startled him, the madness of the course he had been pursuing. That he had escaped suspicion so long, was a cause of wonder.
"You had better take these checks and cancel them," said Emerson, returning the last note he had received from the young man. "In case the worst comes to the worst, don't forget that everything depends on concealing my agency in the business. I am stake-holder, as you say; and if you get into difficulty, will be your secret, interested, and efficient friend. Your family will need a resource, and have it in me. Yes, money is all potent; and we may, with that in reserve, defy judges and juries, if the law takes hold of the matter. Moreover — you are aware that in a few days, I am to be married to the daughter of old Mr. Barker. This will give me a new position and influence."
Assuring Emerson, over and over again that he had nothing to fear, Baldwin took back the checks, with a promise to cancel them, and then went away. His face wore a look of trouble, and there was trouble in his heart But a deeper anxiety and alarm than he felt, was in the heart of his unprincipled accomplice.
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