The Sword of Damocles: A Story of New York Life

by Anna Katharine Green

  Mr. Sylvester towered on his nephew with an expression such as few menhad ever seen even on his powerful and commanding face.

  "What do you mean?" asked he, and his voice rang like a clarion throughthe room.

  Bertram trembled and for a moment stood aghast, the ready flush bathinghis brow with burning crimson. "I mean," stammered he, with difficultyrecovering himself, "that when Mr. Stuyvesant came to open his privatebox in the bank to-day, that he not only found its lock had beentampered with, but that money and valuables to the amount of some twelvehundred dollars were missing from among its contents."

  "What?"

  The expression which had made Mr. Sylvester's brow so terrible hadvanished, but his wonder remained.

  "It is impossible," he declared. "Our vaults are too well watched forany such thing to occur. He has made some mistake; a robbery of thatnature could not take place without detection."

  "It would seem not, and yet the fact remains. Mr. Stuyvesant himselfinformed me of it, to-night. He is not a careless man, nor reckless inhis statements. Some one has robbed the bank and it remains with us tofind out who."

  Mr. Sylvester, who had been standing all this while, sat down like a mandazed, the wild lost look on Bertram's face daunting him with a fearfulpremonition. "There are but four men who have access to the vault wherethe boxes are kept," said he: then quickly, "Why did Mr. Stuyvesant waittill to-night to speak to you? Why did he not notify us at once of aloss so important for us to know?"

  The flush on Bertram's brow slowly subsided, giving way to a steadypallor. "He waited to be sure," said he. "He had a memorandum at homewhich he desired to consult; he was not ready to make any rashstatement: he is a thinking man and more considerate than many of hisfriends are apt to imagine. If the lock had not been found open he wouldhave thought with you that he had made some mistake; if he had notmissed from the box some of its contents, he would have considered thecondition of the lock the result of some oversight on his own part or ofsome mistake on the part of another, but the two facts together weredamning and could force upon him but one conclusion. Uncle," said he,with a straightforward look into Mr. Sylvester's countenance, "Mr.Stuyvesant knows as well as we do who are the men who have access to thevaults. As you say, the opening of a box during business hours and theabstracting from it of papers or valuables by any one who has not suchaccess, would be impossible. Only Hopgood, you and myself, and possiblyFolger, could find either time or opportunity for such a piece of work;while after business hours, the same four, minus Folger who contentshimself with knowing the combination of the inner safe, could open thevaults even in case of an emergency. Now of the four named, two areabove suspicion. I might almost say three, for Hopgood is not a man itis easy to mistrust. One alone, then, of all the men whom Mr. Stuyvesantis in the habit of meeting at the Bank, is open to a doubt. A young man,uncle, whose rising has been rapid, whose hopes have been lofty, whoselife may or may not be known to himself as pure, but which in the eyesof a matured man of the world might easily be questioned, just becauseits hopes are so lofty and its means for attaining them so limited."

  "Bertram!" sprang from Mr. Sylvester's white lips.

  But the young man raised his hand with almost a commanding gesture."Hush," said he, "no sympathy or surprise. Facts like these have to bemet with silent endurance, as we walk up to the mouth of the cannon wecannot evade, or bare our breast to the thrust of the bayonet gleamingbefore our eyes.--I would not have you think," he somewhat hurriedlypursued, "that Mr. Stuyvesant insinuated anything of the kind, but hisdaughter was not present in the parlor, and--" A sigh, almost a gaspfinished the sentence.

  "Bertram!" again exclaimed his uncle, this time with some authority inhis voice. "The shock of this discovery has unnerved you. You act like aman capable of being suspected. That is simply preposterous. One halfhour's conversation with Mr. Stuyvesant on my part will convince him, ifhe needs convincing, which I do not believe, that whoever is unworthy oftrust in our bank, you are not the man."

  Bertram raised his head with a gleam of hope, but instantly dropped itagain with a despairing gesture that made his uncle frown.

  "I did not know that you were inclined to be so pusillanimous," criedMr. Sylvester; "and in presence of a foe so unsubstantial as this youhave conjured up almost out of nothing. If the bank has been robbed, itcannot be difficult to find the thief. I will order in detectivesto-morrow. We will hold a board of inquiry, and the culprit shall beunmasked; that is, if he is one of the employees of the bank, which itis very hard to believe."

  "Very, and which, if true, would make it unadvisable in us to give thealarm that any public measures taken could not fail to do."

  "The inquiry shall be private, and the detectives, men who can betrusted to keep their business secret."

  "How can any inquiry be private? Uncle, we are treading on delicateground, and have a task before us requiring great tact and discretion.If the safe had only been assaulted, or there were any evidences ofburglary to be seen! But we surely should have heard of it from some oneof the men, if anything unusual had been observed. Hopgood would havespoken at least."

  "Yes, Hopgood would have spoken."

  The tone in which this was uttered made Bertram look up. "You agree withme, then, that Hopgood is absolutely to be relied upon?"

  "Absolutely." A faint flush on Mr. Sylvester's face lent force to thisstatement.

  "He could not be beguiled or forced by another man to reveal thecombination, or to relax his watch over the vaults entrusted to hiskeeping?"

  "No."

  "He is alone with the vaults where the boxes are kept for an hour or twoin the early morning!"

  "Yes, and has been for three years. Hopgood is honesty itself."

  "And so are Folger and Jessup and Watson," exclaimed Bertramemphatically.

  "Yes," his uncle admitted, with equal emphasis.

  "It is a mystery," Bertram declared; "and one I fear that will undo me."

  "Nonsense!" broke forth somewhat impatiently from Mr. Sylvester's lips;"there is no reason at this time for any such conclusion. If there is athief in the bank he can be found; if the robbery was committed by anoutsider, he may still be discovered. If he is not, if the mystery restsforever unexplained, you have your character, Bertram, a character asspotless as that of any of your fellows, whom we regard as abovesuspicion. A man is not going to be condemned by such a judge of humannature as Mr. Stuyvesant, just because a mysterious crime has beencommitted, to which the circumstances of his position alone render itpossible for him to be party. You might as well say that Jessup andFolger and Watson--yes, or myself, would in that case lose hisconfidence. They are in the bank, and are constantly in the habit ofgoing to the vaults."

  "None of those gentlemen want to marry his daughter," murmured Bertram."It is not the director I fear, but the father. I have so little tobring her. Only my character and my devotion."

  "Well, well, pluck up courage, my boy. I have hopes yet that the wholematter can be referred to some mistake easily explainable when once itis discovered. Mistakes, even amongst the honest and the judicious, arenot so uncommon as one is apt to imagine. I, myself, have known of onewhich if providence had not interfered, might have led to doubtsseemingly as inconsistent as yours. To-morrow we will consider thequestion at length. To-night--Well, Bertram, what is it?"

  The young man started and dropped his eyes, which during the last wordsof his uncle had been fixed upon his face with strange and penetratinginquiry. "Nothing," said he, "that is, nothing more;" and rose as if toleave.

  But Mr. Sylvester put out his hand and stopped him. "There _is_something," said he. "I have seen it in your face ever since you enteredthis room. What is it?"

  The young man drew a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. Mr.Sylvester watched him with growing pallor. "You are right," murmured hisnephew at last; "there is something more, and it is only justice thatyou should hear it. I have had two adventures to-night; one quite apartfrom my conversation with Mr. Stuyvesant.
Heaven that watches above us,has seen fit to accumulate difficulties in my path, and this last,perhaps, is the least explainable and the hardest to encounter."

  "What do you allude to?" cried his uncle, imperatively; "I have had anevening of too much agitation to endure suspense with equanimity.Explain yourself."

  "It will not take long," said the other; "a few words will reveal to youthe position in which I stand. Let me relate it in the form of anarrative. You know what a dark portion of the block that is in whichMr. Stuyvesant's house is situated. A man might hide in any of the areasalong there, without being observed by you unless he made some sound toattract your attention. I was, therefore, more alarmed than surprisedwhen, shortly after leaving Mr. Stuyvesant's dwelling, I felt a handlaid on my shoulder, and turning, beheld a dark figure at my side, of anappearance calculated to arouse any man's apprehension. He was tall,unkempt, with profuse beard, and eyes that glared even in the darknessof his surroundings, with a feverish intensity. 'You are Mr. Sylvester,'said he, with a look of a wild animal ready to pounce upon his prey.'Yes,' said I, involuntarily stepping back, 'I am Mr. Sylvester.' 'Iwant to speak to you,' exclaimed he, with a rush of words as though astream had broken loose; 'now, at once, on business that concerns you.Will you listen?'

  "I thought of the only business that seemed to concern me then, andstarting still farther back, surveyed him with surprise. 'I don't knowyou,' said I; 'what business can you have with me?' 'Will you step intosome place where it is warm and find out?' he asked, shivering in histhin cloak, but not abating a jot of his eagerness. 'Go on before me,'said I, 'and we will see.' He complied at once, and in this way wereached Beale's Coffee-Room, where we went in. 'Now,' said I, 'out withwhat you have to say and be quick about it. I have no time to listen tononsense and no heart to attend to it.' His eye brightened; he did notcast a glance at the smoking victuals about him, though I knew he washungry as a dog. 'It is no nonsense,' said he, 'that I have tocommunicate to you.' And then I saw he had once been a gentleman. 'Fortwo years and a half have I been searching for you,' he went on, 'inorder that I might recall to your mind a little incident. You rememberthe afternoon of February, the twenty-fifth, two years ago?'

  "'No,' said I, in great surprise, for his whole countenance was flushedwith expectancy. 'What was there about that day that I should rememberit?' He smiled and bent his face nearer to mine. 'Don't you recollect alittle conversation you had in a small eating-house in Dey Street, witha gentleman of a high-sounding voice to whom you were obligedcontinually to say 'hush!'" I stared at the man, as you may believe,with some notion of his being a wandering lunatic. 'I have never taken ameal in any eating-house in Dey Street,' I declared, motioning to awaiter to approach us. The man observing it, turned swiftly upon me. 'Doyou think I care for any such petty _fuss_ as that?' asked he,indicating the rather slightly built man I had called to my rescue,while he covertly studied my face to observe the effect of his words.

  "I started. I could not help it; this use of an expression almostpeculiar to myself, assured me that the man knew me better than Isupposed. Involuntarily I waved the waiter back and turned upon the manwith an inquiring look.

  "'I thought you might consider it worth your while to listen,' said he,smiling with the air of one who has or thinks he has a grip upon you.Then suddenly, 'You are a rich man, are you not? a proud man and anhonored one. You hold a position of trust and are considered worthy ofit; how would you like men to know that you once committed a mean anddirty trick; that those white hands that have the handling of such largefunds at present, have in days gone by been known to dip into such fundsa little too deeply; that, in short, you, Bertram Sylvester, cashier ofthe Madison Bank, and looking forward to no one knows what future honorsand emoluments, have been in a position better suited to a felon's cellthan the trusted agent of a great and wealthy corporation?'

  "I did not collar him; I was too dumb-stricken for any such display ofindignation. I simply stared, feeling somewhat alarmed as I rememberedmy late interview with Mr. Stuyvesant, and considered the possibility ofa plot being formed against me. He smiled again at the effect he hadproduced, and drew me into a corner of the room where we sat down. 'I amgoing to tell you a story,' said he, 'just to show you what a goodmemory I have. One day, a year and more ago, I sauntered into aneating-house on Dey Street. I have not always been what you see me now,though to tell you the truth, I was but little better off at the time ofwhich I speak, except that I did have a dime or so in my pocket, andcould buy a meal of victuals--if I wished.' And his eyes roamed for thefirst time to the tables stretching out before him down the room. 'Theproprietor was an acquaintance of mine, and finding I was sleepy as wellas hungry, let me go into a certain dark pantry, where I curled up amidall sorts of old rubbish and went to sleep. I was awakened by the soundof voices talking very earnestly. The closet in which I was hidden was atemporary affair built up of loose boards, and the talk of a couple ofmen seated against it was easy enough to be heard. Do you want to knowwhat that conversation was?'

  "My curiosity was roused by this time and I said yes. If this was a plotto extort money from me, it was undeniably better for me to know uponjust what foundations it rested. I thought the man looked surprised, butwith an aplomb difficult to believe assumed, he went on to say, 'Thevoices gave me my only means of judging of the age, character, orposition of the men conversing, but I have a quick ear, and my memory isnever at fault. From the slow, broken, nervously anxious tone of one ofthe men, I made up my mind that he was elderly, hard up, and not overscrupulous; the other voice was that of a gentleman, musical and yetpronounced, and not easily forgotten, as you see, sir. The first words Iheard aroused me and convinced me it was worth while to listen. Theywere uttered by the gentleman. 'You come to me with such a dirty pieceof business! What right have you to suppose I would hearken to you foran instant!' 'The right,' returned the other, 'of knowing you have notbeen above doing dirty work in your life time.' The partition creaked atthat, as though one of the two had started forward, but I didn't hearany reply made to this strange accusation. 'Do you think,' the samevoice went on, 'that I do not know where the five thousand dollars camefrom which you gave me for that first speculation? I knew it when I tookit, and if I hadn't been sure the operation would turn out fortunately,you would never have been the man you are to-day. It came out of fundsentrusted to you, and was not the gift of a relative as you would havemade me believe.' 'Good heaven!' exclaimed the other, after a silencethat was very expressive just then and there, 'and you let me--' 'Oh wewon't go into that,' interrupted the less cultivated voice. 'All youwanted was a start, to make you the successful man you have sincebecome. I never worried much about morals, and I don't worry about themnow, only when you say you won't do a thing likely to make my fortune,just because it is not entirely free from reproach, I say, remember whatI know about you, and don't talk virtue to me.'

  "'I am rightly punished,' came from the other, in a tone that proved himto be a man more ready to do a wrong thing than to face the accusationof it. 'If I ever did what you suppose, the repentance that hasembittered all my success, and the position in which you have this dayplaced me, is surely an ample atonement.' 'Will you do what I request?'inquired the other, giving little heed to this expression of misery, ofwhich I on the contrary took special heed. 'No,' was the energeticreply; 'because I am not spotless it is no sign that I will wade intofilth. I will give you money as I have done scores of times before, butI will lend my hand to no scheme which is likely to throw discredit onme or mine. Were you not connected to me in the way in which you are--''You would pursue the scheme,' interrupted the other; 'it is because youknow that I cannot talk, that you dare repudiate it. Well I will go toone--' 'You shall not,' came in short quick tones, just such tones asyou used to me, sir, when we first entered this room. 'You shall leavethe country before you do anything more, or say anything more, tocompromise me or yourself. I may have done wrong in my day, but that isno reason why I should suffer for it at your hands, tempter of youth,and dece
iver of your own flesh and blood! _You_ shall never bring backthose days to me again; they are buried, and have been stamped out ofsight by many an honest dealing since, and many as I trust before God,good and sterling action. I have long since begun a new life; a life ofhonor, and pure, if successful, dealing. Not only my own happiness, butthat of one who should be considered by you, depends upon my maintainingthat life to the end, unshadowed by unholy remembrances, and unharrassedby any such proffers as you have presumed to make to me here to-day. Ifyou want a few thousand dollars to leave the country, say so, but neveragain presume to offend my ears, or those of any one else we may know,with any such words as you have made use of to-day.' And the spiritlesscreature subsided, sir, and said no more to that rich, honored, andsuccessful man who was so sensitive to even the imputation of guilt.

  "But I am not spiritless and just where he dropped the affair, I took itup. 'Here is a chance for me to turn an honest penny,' thought I, andwith a deliberation little to be expected of me, perhaps, set myself tospot that man and make the most out of the matter I could. UnfortunatelyI lost the opportunity of seeing his face. I was too anxious to catchevery word they uttered, to quit my place of concealment till theirconversation was concluded, and then I was too late to be sure which ofthe many men leaving the building before me was the one I was after. Thewaiters were too busy to talk, and the proprietor himself had taken nonotice. Happily as I have before said, I never forget voices; moreoverone of the two speakers had made use of a phrase peculiar enough toserve as a clue to his identity. It was in answer to some parting threatof the older man, and will remind you of an expression uttered byyourself an hour or so ago. 'Do you suppose I will let such a littlefuss as that deter me?' It was the cue to his speech, by which Iintended to hunt out my man from amongst the rich, the trusted and theinfluential persons of this city, and when found, to hold him.'

  "'And you think you have done this?' said I, too conscious of thepossible net about my feet to be simply angry. 'I know it,' said he;'every word you have uttered since we have been here has made me moreand more certain of the fact. I could swear to your voice, and as toyour use of that tell-tale word, it was not till I thought to inquire ofa certain wide-awake fellow down town, who amongst our business men werein the habit of using that expression, and was told Mr. Sylvester of theMadison Bank, that I was enabled to track you. I know I have got my handon my man at last and--' He looked down at his thread-bare coat andaround at the tables with their smoking dishes, and left me to draw myown conclusion.

  "Uncle, there are crises in life which no former experience teaches youhow to meet. I had arrived at such a one. Perhaps you can understand mewhen I say I was well nigh appalled. Denial of what was imputed to memight be wisdom and might not. I felt the coil of a deadly serpent aboutme, and knew not whether it was best to struggle or to simply submit.The man noted the effect he had made and complacently folded his arms.He was of a nervous organization and possessed an eye like a hungrywolf, but he could wait. 'This is a pretty story,' said I at last, and Ireject it altogether. 'I am an honest man and have always been so; youwill have to give up your hopes of making anything out of me.' 'Then youare willing,' said he, 'that I should repeat this story to one of thedirectors of your bank, whom I know?'

  "I looked at him; he returned my gaze with a cold nonchalence moresuggestive of a deep laid purpose, than even his previous glance offeverish determination. I immediately let my eye run over his scantyclothing and loose flowing hair and beard. 'Yes,' said I, with as muchsarcasm as I knew how to assume, 'if you dare risk the consequences, Ithink I may.' He at once drew himself up. 'You think,' said he, 'thatyou have a common-place adventurer to deal with; that my appearance isgoing to testify in your favor; that you have but to deny any accusationwhich such a hungry-looking, tattered wretch as I, may make, and that Ishall be ignominiously kicked out of the presence into which I haveforced myself; that in short I have been building my castle in the air.Mr. Sylvester, I am a poor devil but I am no fool. When I left DeyStreet on the twenty-fifth of February two years ago, it was with asealed paper in my pocket, in which was inscribed all that I had heardon that day. This I took to a lawyer's office, and not being, as I havebefore said, quite as impecunious in those days as at present, succeededin getting the lawyer, whom I took care should be a most respectableman, to draw up a paper to the effect that I had entrusted him with thisstatement--of whose contents he however knew nothing--on such a day andhour, to which paper a gentleman then present, consented at myrespectful solicitation to affix his name as witness, which gentleman,strange to say, has since proved to be a director of the bank of whichyou are the present cashier, and consequently the very man of all othersbest adapted to open the paper whose seal you profess to be so willingto see broken.'

  "'His name!' It was all that I could say. 'Stuyvesant,' cried the man,fixing me with his eye in which I in vain sought for some signs ofsecret doubt or unconscious wavering. I rose; the position in which Ifound myself was too overwhelming for instant decision. I needed timefor reflection, possibly advice--from you. A resolution to brave thedevil must be founded on something more solid than impulse, to hold itsown unmoved. I only stopped to utter one final word and ask one leadingquestion. 'You are a smart man,' said I, 'and you are also a villain.Your smartness would give you food and drink, if you exercised it in amanner worthy of a man, but your villainy if persisted in, willeventually rob you of both, and bring you to the prison's cell or thehangman's gallows. As for myself, I persist in saying that I am now andalways have been an honest man, whatever you may have overheard or findyourself capable of swearing to. Yet a lie is an inconvenient thing tohave uttered against you at any time, and I may want to see you again;if I do, where shall I find you?' He thrust his hand into his pocket anddrew out a small slip of folded paper, which he passed to me with a bowthat Chesterfield would have admired. 'You will find it written within,'said he 'I shall look for you any time to-morrow, up to seven o'clock.At that hour the lawyer of whom I have spoken, sends the statement whichhe has in his possession to Mr. Stuyvesant.' I nodded my assent, and hemoved slowly towards the door. As he did so, his eyes fell upon a rollof bread lying on a counter. I at once stepped forward and bought it.Vile as he was, and deadly as was the snare he contemplated drawingabout me, I could not see that wolfish look of hunger, and not offer himsomething to ease it. He took the loaf from my hands and bit greedilyinto it but suddenly paused, and shook his head with a look likeself-reproach, and thrusting the loaf under his arm, turned towards thedoor with the quick action of one escaping. Instantly, and before he wasout of sight or hearing, I drew the attention of the proprietor to him.'Do you see that man?' I asked. 'He has been attempting a system ofblackmail upon me.' And satisfied with thus having provided a witnessable of identifying the man, in case of an emergency, I left thebuilding.

  "And now you know it all," concluded he; and the silence that followedthe utterance of those simple words, was a silence that could be felt.

  * * * * *

  "Bertram?"

  The young man started from his fixed position, and his eyes slowlytraversed toward his uncle.

  "Have you that slip of paper which the man gave you before departing?"

  "Yes," said he.

  "Let me have it, if you please."

  The young man with an agitated look, plunged his hand into his pocket,drew out the small note and laid it on the table between them. Mr.Sylvester let it lie, and again there was a silence.

  "If this had happened at any other time," Bertram pursued, "one couldafford to let the man have his say; but now, just as this other mysteryhas come up--"

  "I don't believe in submitting to blackmail," came from his uncle inshort, quick tones.

  Bertram gave a start. "You then advise me to leave him alone?" asked he,with unmistakable emotion.

  His uncle dropped the hand which till now he had held before his face,and hastily confronted his nephew. "You will have enough to do to attendto the other matter
without bestowing any time or attention upon this.The man that robbed Mr. Stuyvesant's box, can be found and must. It isthe one indispensable business to which I now delegate you. No amount ofmoney and no amount of diligence is to be spared. I rely on you to carrythe affair to a successful termination. Will you undertake the task?"

  "Can you ask?" murmured the young man, with a shocked look at hisuncle's changed expression.

  "As to this other matter, we will let it rest for to-night. To-morrow'srevelations may be more favorable than we expect. At all events let ustry and get a little rest now; I am sure we are both in a condition toneed it."

  Bertram rose. "I am at your command," said he, and moved to go. Suddenlyhe turned, and the two men stood face to face. "I have no wish," pursuedhe, "to be relieved of my burden at the expense of any one else. If itis to be borne by any one, let it be carried by him who is young andstalwart enough to sustain it." And his hand went out involuntarilytowards his uncle.

  Mr. Sylvester took that hand and eyed his nephew long and earnestly.Bertram thought he was going to speak, and nerved himself to meet withfortitude whatever might be said. But the lips which Mr. Sylvester hadopened, closed firmly, and contenting himself with a mere wring of hisnephew's hand, he allowed him to go. The slip of paper remained upon thetable unopened.

  * * * * *

  That night as Paula lay slumbering on her pillow, a sound passed throughthe house. It was like a quick irrepressible cry of desolation, and thepoor child hearing it, started, thinking her name had been called. Butwhen she listened, all was still, and believing she had dreamed, sheturned her face upon her pillow, and softly murmuring the name that wasdearest to her in all the world, fell again into a peaceful sleep.

  But he whose voice had uttered that cry in the dreary emptiness of thegreat parlors below, slept not.