XLIV.
IN MR. STUYVESANT'S PARLORS.
"Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night?"
--COMUS.
"Unworthy?"
"Yes."
Cicely stared at her father with wide-open and incredulous eyes. "Icannot believe it," she murmured; "no, I cannot believe it."
Her father drew up a chair to her side. "My daughter," said he, withunusual tenderness, "I have hesitated to tell you this, fearing to woundyou; but my discretion will allow me to keep silence no longer. BertramSylvester is not an honest man, and the sooner you make up your mind toforget him, the better."
"Not honest?" You would scarcely have recognized Cicely's voice. Herfather's hand trembled as he drew her back to his side.
"It is a hard revelation for me to make to you, after testifying myapproval of the young man. I sympathize with you, my child, but none theless I expect you to meet this disappointment bravely. A theft has beencommitted in our bank--"
"You do not accuse him of theft! Oh father, father!"
"No," he stammered. "I do not accuse him, but facts look very stronglyagainst some one in our trust, and--"
"But that is not sufficient," she cried, rising in spite of hisdetaining hand till she stood erect before him. "You surely would notallow any mere circumstantial evidence to stand against a character asunblemished as his, even if he were not the man whom your daughter--"
He would not let her continue. "I admit that I should be careful how Ibreathed suspicion against a man whose record was unimpeached," heassented, "but Bertram Sylvester does not enjoy that position. Indeed, Ihave just received a communication which goes to show, that he onceactually acknowledged to having perpetrated an act of questionableintegrity. Now a man as young as he, who--"
"But I cannot believe it," she moaned. "It is impossible, clearlyimpossible. How could he look me in the face with such a sin on hisconscience! He could not, simply could not. Why, father, his brow is asopen as the day, his glance clear and unwavering as the sunlight. It issome dreadful mistake. It is not Bertram of whom you are speaking!"
Her father sighed. "Of whom else should it be? Come my child, do youwant to read the communication which I received last night? Do you wantto be convinced?"
"No, no;" she cried; but quickly contradicted herself with a hurried,"Yes, yes, let me be made acquainted with what there is against him, ifonly that I may prove to you it is all a mistake."
"There is no mistake," he muttered, handing her a folded paper. "Thisstatement was written two years ago; I witnessed it myself, though Ilittle knew against whose honor it was directed. Read it, Cicely, andthen remember that I have lost bonds out of my box at the bank, thatcould only have been taken by some one connected with the institution."
She took the paper in her hand, and eagerly read it through. Suddenlyshe started and looked up. "And you say that this was Bertram, thisgentleman who allowed another man to accuse him of a past dishonesty?"
"So the person declares who forwarded me this statement; and though heis a poor wretch and evidently not above making mischief, I do not knowas we have any special reason to doubt his word."
Cicely's eyes fell and she stood before her father with an air ofindecision. "I do not think it was Bertram," she faltered, but said nomore.
"I would to God for your sake, it was not!" he exclaimed. "But thiscommunication together with the loss we have sustained at the bank, hasshaken my faith, Cicely. Young men are so easily led astray nowadays;especially when playing for high stakes. A man who could leave hisprofession for the sake of winning a great heiress--"
"Father!"
"I know he has made you think it was for love; but when the woman whom ayoung man fancies, is rich, love and ambition run too closely togetherto be easily disentangled. And now, my dear, I have said my say andleave you to act according to the dictates of your judgment, sure thatit will be in a direction worthy of your name and breeding." Andstooping for a hasty kiss, he gave her a last fond look and quietly leftthe room.
And Cicely? For a moment she stood as if frozen in her place, then agreat tremble seized her, and sinking down upon a sofa, she buried herface from sight, in a chaos of feeling that left her scarcely mistressof herself. But suddenly she started up, her face flushed, her eyesgleaming, her whole delicate form quivering with an emotion more akin tohope than despair.
"I cannot doubt him," she whispered; "it were as easy to doubt my ownsoul. He is worthy if I am worthy, true if I am true; and I will not tryto unlove him!"
But soon the reaction came again, and she was about to give full sway toher grief and shame, when the parlor door opened--she herself wassitting in the extension room--and she saw Mr. Sylvester and Paula comein. She at once rose to her feet; but she did not advance. A thousandhopes and fears held her enchained where she was; besides there wassomething in the aspect of her friends, which made her feel as though awelcome even from her, would at that moment be an intrusion.
"They have come to see father," she thought "and--"
Ah what, Cicely?
Paula, who was too absorbed in her own feelings to glance into theextension room beyond, approached Mr. Sylvester and laid her hand uponhis arm. "Whatever comes," said she, "truth, honor and love remain."
And he bowed his head and seemed to kiss her hand, and Cicely observingthe action, grew pale and dropped her eyes, realizing as by alightning's flash, both the nature of the feeling that prompted thisunusual manifestation on his part, and the possible sorrows that laybefore her dearest friend, if not before herself, should the secretsuspicions she cherished in regard to Mr. Sylvester prove true. When shehad summoned up courage to glance again in their direction, Mr.Stuyvesant had entered the parlor and was nervously welcoming hisguests.
Mr. Sylvester waited for no preamble. "I have come," said he, in hismost even and determined tones, "to speak to you in regard to acommunication from a man by the name of Holt, which I was told was to besent to you last evening. Did you receive such a one?"
Mr. Stuyvesant flushed, grew still more nervous in his manner anduttered a short, "I did," in a tone severer than he perhaps intended.
"It will not be too much for me, then, to conclude, that in your presentestimation my nephew stands committed to a past dishonesty?"
"It has been one of my chief sources of regret--one of them I say,"repeated Mr. Stuyvesant, "that any loss of esteem on the part of yournephew, must necessarily reflect upon the peace if not the honor of aman I hold in such high regard as yourself. I assure you I feel it quiteas a brother might, quite as a brother."
Mr. Sylvester at once rose. "Mr. Stuyvesant," declared he, "my nephew isas honest a man as walks this city's streets. If you will accord me afew minutes private conversation, I think I can convince you so."
"I should be very glad," replied Mr. Stuyvesant, glancing towards theextension-room where he had left his daughter. "I have always liked theyoung man." Then with a quick look in the other's face, "You are notwell, Mr. Sylvester?"
"Thank you, I am not ill; let us say what we have to, at once, if youplease." And with just a glance at Paula, he followed the now somewhatagitated director from the room.
Cicely who had started forward at their departure, glanced down the longparlor before her, and hastily faltered back; Paula was praying. But ina few moments her feelings overcame her timidity, and hurrying into herfriend's presence, she threw her arms about her neck and pressed hercheek to hers. "Let us pray together," she whispered.
Paula drew back and looked her friend in the face. "You know what allthis means?" she asked.
"I guess," was the low reply.
Paula checked a sob and clasped Cicely to her bosom. "He loves me," shefaltered, "and he is doing at this moment what he believes will separateus. He is a noble man, Cicely, noble as Bertram, though he once did--"She paused. "It is for him to say what, not I," she softly concluded.
"Then Bertram is noble," Cicely timidly put in.
"Have you ever doubted it?"
"No."
And hiding their blushes on each other's shoulders, the two girls satbreathlessly waiting, while the clock ticked away in the music-room andthe moments came and went that determined their fate. Suddenly they bothrose. Mr. Stuyvesant and Mr. Sylvester were descending the stairs. Mr.Sylvester came in first. Walking straight up to Paula, he took her inhis arms and kissed her on the forehead.
"My betrothed wife!" he whispered.
With a start of incredulous joy, Paula looked up. His glance was clearbut strangely solemn and peaceful.
"He has heard all I had to say," added he; "he is a just man, but he isalso a merciful one. Like you he declares that not what a man was, butwhat he is, determines the judgment of true men concerning him." Andtaking her on his arm, he stood waiting for Mr. Stuyvesant who now camein.
"Where is my daughter?" were that gentleman's words, as he closed thedoor behind him.
"Here, papa."
He held out his hand, and she sprang towards him. "Cicely," said he, notwithout some tokens of emotion in his voice, "it is only right that Ishould inform you that we were all laboring under a mistake, in chargingMr. Bertram Sylvester with the words that were uttered in the Dey Streetcoffee-house two years ago. Mr. Sylvester has amply convinced me thathis nephew neither was, nor could have been present there at that time.It must have been some other man, of similar personality."
"Oh thank you, thank you!" Cicely's look seemed to say to Mr. Sylvester."And he is quite freed from reproach?" she asked, with a smiling glanceinto her father's face.
A hesitancy in Mr. Stuyvesant's manner, struck with a chill upon morethan one heart in that room.
"Yes," he admitted at last; "the mere fact that a mysterious robbery hasbeen committed upon certain effects in the bank of which he is cashier,is not sufficient to awaken distrust as to his integrity, but--"
At that moment the door-bell rung.
"Your father would say," cried Mr. Sylvester, taking advantage of themomentary break, to come to the relief of his host, "that my nephew istoo much of a gentleman to desire to press any claim he may imaginehimself as possessing over you, while even the possibility of a shadowrests upon his name."
"The man who stole the bonds will be found," said Cicely.
And as if in echo to her words the parlor door opened, and a messengerfrom the bank stepped briskly up to Mr. Stuyvesant.
"A note from Mr. Folger," said he, with a quick glance at Mr. Sylvester.
Mr. Stuyvesant took the paper handed him, read it hastily through, andlooked up with an air of some bewilderment.
"I can hardly believe it possible," cried he, "but Hopgood hasabsconded."
"Hopgood absconded?"
"Yes; is not that the talk at the bank?" inquired Mr. Stuyvesant,turning to the messenger.
"Yes sir. He has not been seen since yesterday afternoon when he leftbefore the bank was closed for the night. His wife says she thinks hemeant to run away, for before going, he came into the room where shewas, kissed her and then kissed the child; besides it seems that he tookwith him some of his clothes."
"Humph! and I had as much confidence in that man--"
"As I have now," came from Mr. Sylvester as the door closed upon themessenger. "If Hopgood has run away, it was from some generous butmistaken idea of sacrificing himself to the safety of another whom hemay possibly believe guilty."
"No," rejoined Mr. Stuyvesant, "for here is a note from him that refutesthat supposition. It is addressed to me and runs thus:
"DEAR SIR.--I beg your pardon and that of Mr. Sylvester for leaving my duties in this abrupt manner. But I have betrayed my trust and am no longer worthy of confidence. I am a wretched man and find it impossible to face those who have believed in my honesty and discretion. If I can bring the money back, you shall see me again, but if not, be kind to my wife and little one, for the sake of the three years when I served the bank faithfully.
"JOHN HOPGOOD."
"I don't understand it," cried Mr. Sylvester, "that looks--"
"As if he knew where the money was."
"I begin to hope," breathed Cicely.
Her father turned and surveyed her. "This puts a new aspect on matters,"said he.
She glanced up beaming. "Oh, will you, do you say, that you think theshadow of this crime has at last found the spot upon which it canrightfully rest?"
"It would not be common sense in me to deny that it has most certainlyshifted its position."
With a radiant look at Cicely, Paula crossed to Mr. Stuyvesant's side,and laying her hand on his sleeve, whispered a word or two in his ear.He immediately glanced out of the window at the carriage standing beforethe door, then looked back at her and nodded with something like asmile. In another moment he stood at the front door.
"Be prepared," cried Paula to Cicely.
It was well she spoke, for when in an instant later Mr. Stuyvesantre-entered the parlor with Bertram at his side, the rapidly changingcheek of the gentle girl showed that the surprise, even though thustempered, was almost too much for her self-possession.
Mr. Stuyvesant did not wait for the inevitable embarrassment of themoment to betray itself in words. "Mr. Sylvester," said he, to the youngcashier, "we have just received a piece of news from the bank, thatthrows unexpected light upon the robbery we were discussing yesterday.Hopgood has absconded, and acknowledges here in writing that he hadsomething to do with the theft!"
"Hopgood, the janitor!" The exclamation was directed not to Mr.Stuyvesant but to Mr. Sylvester, towards whom Bertram turned with looksof amazement.
"Yes, it is the greatest surprise I ever received," returned thatgentleman.
"And Mr. Sylvester," continued Mr. Stuyvesant, with nervous rapidity anda generous attempt to speak lightly, "there is a little lady here who isso shaken by the news, that nothing short of a word of reassurance onyour part will comfort her."
Bertram's eye followed that of Mr. Stuyvesant, and fell upon theblushing cheek of Cicely. With a flushing of his own brow, he steppedhastily forward.
"Miss Stuyvesant!" he cried, and looking down in her face, forgoteverything else in his infinite joy and satisfaction.
"Yes," announced the father with abrupt decision, "she is yours; youhave fairly earned her."
Bertram bowed his head with irrepressible emotion, and for a moment thesilence of perfect peace if not of awe, reigned over the apartment; butsuddenly a low, determined "No!" was heard, and Bertram turning towardsMr. Stuyvesant, exclaimed, "You are very good, and the joy of thismoment atones for many an hour of grief and impatience; but I have notearned her yet. The fact that Hopgood admits to having had something todo with the robbery, does not sufficiently exonerate the officers of thebank from all connection with the affair, to make it safe or honorablein me to unqualifiedly accept the inestimable boon of your daughter'sregard. Till the real culprit is in custody and the mystery entirelycleared away, my impatience must continue to curb itself. I love yourdaughter too dearly to bring her anything but the purest of reputations.Am I not right, Miss Stuyvesant?"
She cast a glance at her father, and bowed her head. "You are right,"she repeated.
And Mr. Stuyvesant, with a visible lightening of his whole aspect, tookthe young man by the hand, and with as much geniality as his naturewould allow, informed him that he was at last convinced that hisdaughter had made no mistake when she expressed her trust in BertramSylvester.
And in other eyes than Cicely's, shone the light of satisfied love andunswerving faith.
The Sword of Damocles: A Story of New York Life Page 45