The Spirit Of The Age

Leaves from a Lawyer's Portfolio

"Jailer, look to him—Tell me not of mercy."—Shylock.

THE VICTIM

[continued.]

What a spectacle has this interview presented.
The tender, delicate woman soothing the anguish of
her husband's bosom, and then herself at last
giving way beneath this terrible stroke of Providence.
Poor thing! little does she dream of the misery in
store for her. Hope soon revived in her bosom; the
forced calmness of her husband deceived her; she
felt, too that her voice ought to support instead of
disheartening him, and before I left them she went
so far as to smile. And thus they mutually strove
to re-assure each other, while the heart of both were
—God knows—almost breaking.

Sanguine as I was, I had entered the cell with
the expectation of seeing Howard speedily released.
but when his sweet wife departed on a momentary
errand, I seized the occasion to enquire more
minutely into the probable reason of his arrest
He looked up and shook his head as I closed my
question with expressing a belief in his speedy liberty. There was something frightfully calm in his
deep, slow note, as he said,

"It will never be. While Mary was here I was
willing to deceive you; for I would not crush her
gentle heart with the whole truth. No—it will
never be. He has sworn—yes, the author of all
my ruin has sworn," he continued, with a hurried
voice and kindling eye, "that I shall rot in jail
—ha! ha! those are the very words, he added wildly.
but instantly pausing, he placed his hands to
his brow, with a look of unutterable agony, and re-
sumed. "But why is this? I must learn to bear it
like a man. No—as there is a Maker over me—
he shall never know he can so affect my spirit. I
will be, as proud, as lofty as ever,—I defy his tor-
tures—he may imprison the body—but thank God!
the soul is free," and with rapid strides, he passed
the narrow cell, while his eye flashed, and his whole
frame dilated with indignant passion.

"But" he continued, at last, pausing before me
"I have not yet told you the cause of this persecu-
tion—yes persecution!" he added bitterly—and
then once more mastering his emotions he resumed
more calmly—"well you know R—, you know
also my speculations with him and that terrible bond.
I will not rehearse the progress of the drama—the
doubts, the fears, the momentary ecstasy, and the
agony of final ruin. No— these you know—fool
that I was to bring them on me. Well—on Sat-
urday the bubble burst. Mad with ruin, I hurried
to my partner, expecting to find some consolation in
his often promised friendship. I knew his charac-
ter for acuteness, and I dreamed fondly that he
might yet point out some way to save ourselves.
Nor did I argue unfairly, for was he not interested
as well as I? Full of these thoughts I alighted
at his house with something of hope. I was told
he could not see me. Astonished beyond measure
I told the man to carry in my name. He smiled
and shook his head. I grew angry, and pushing
by him entered the library, followed closely by the
servant. R—was sitting calmly by the fire. He
rose at my entrance and turned frowning to the ser-
vant. Half suspecting the truth from the insolence
of the footman, and my partner's air of perfect un-
concern, I at once said, perhaps too harshly,

"Pray, Mr. R—, order that fellow out of the
room. I have some private business to transact
with you, and observing he hesitated, I added
firmly and with emphasis, "I must and will be
heard."

"Well sir," said he coldly, at once crushing every hope by his tone, what may it be. But stop, I
have some business with you"—said he suddenly.
as if conscious of my errand, he had determined to
meet me boldly by first broaching the subject, and
enjoying a hellish revenge for the insult in resisting
his porter and penetrating to his presence—
' you have heard of the failure of the land compa-
ny, and as that security is now worth nothing.
you must be aware that I shall have to look in other quarters for the proceeds of my judgment bond.
I presume, sir,' said he ironically, 'this is your
object in calling.'"

For a moment I was struck dumb. Had I been
told an hour before that human nature was capable
of such baseness, I would unhesitatingly given it
the lie. I could not find words to express my emo-
tions. I gazed at him in mingled amazement, in-
credulity and horror. But in every feature of his
face I traced the same cold-blooded irony which
characterized his tone. I could not contain myself.

'By heaven, sir, this is too much. Do you
taunt me with the ruin you have brought upon me?
You know well enough that I have no security be-
sides that cursed tract of land which your own
promises seduced me into purchasing. I give you
security—I—I?''

'Yes—you,' he interposed coolly, 'for if I
did tell you to purchase, I did not bid you to hold
on like a fool, when every one could see the spec-
ulation was about to blow up.'

You did, sir, you did,' I broke in, almost
choked with passion, 'no later than last week you
induced me to refuse a bid. And now to taunt me
with it,' and as a scornful smile—the most gall-
ing of all insults for an injured man to bear—stole
across his sinister countenance, I continued in
words hoarse with rage, and with a perfect reck-
lessness as to the consequences. 'You hoary
scoundrel—you have conspired—trapped me into
this net—you have swindled one victim more—'

'By God!' said he, stung out of his affected
irony, and trembling in every limb with anger,-
'you shall suffer for this—by all that is holy, I
swear you shall. I have you fast, you shall rot in
jail for your insolence,' and unable to proceed
farther, he leaned against the mantel piece breath-
less with rage.

I know not what I answered. The consciousness
of my situation, and of the being I had to deal
with swept across my memory, until my brain reel-
ed again with agony. Despair for a moment took
possession of me, and I felt tempted to rush upon
the old villain, and make his life the forfeit of his
taunt. But then other and better thoughts came
across me. I remembered Mary, and it softened
me at once. I beheld, too, the abyss over which
I hung, and that my only hope was in not urging
my oppressor farther. God only knows how I was
enabled so suddenly to calm my passion; but a
thunderbolt, believe me, sobers us at once. Yet
I would not crouch to the hoary tyrant. He seemed,
however; to fear personal violence, for he
shouted continually for the servants, who soon
came hurrying to the apartment, to turn me from
the house. I felt I could have put aside the whole
six, so unnatural was my excitement, and I only
smiled disdainfully, as I picked up my hat, and
striding through the very midst of them, passed
out at a door opposite to the one where I had en-
tered—the servants making room for me carefully
as I passed. I have done. You know the rest.—
You know that I instructed my lawyer to tender
every thing I had as soon as proceedings should be
commenced. Well as I knew I had incurred my
partner's unmitigated enmity, I did not dream he
would carry it thus far. But that delusion is over.
God of heaven! I must rot in jail.

I was awed by the intense agony of the tone he
used; for it told the fearful nature of his sufferings.
Yet what could I say? I felt there was no hope.
Still I determined to sooth him, even if I did so at
the expense of truth. I used every effort to put a
better light upon his case, and held out expectations which I felt could never be realized. At last
he interrupted me.

No—no,' he exclaimed bitterly, 'it cannot be.
There is no hope. Here is my dwelling—here too
shall be my grave. Oh! my God, what is the justice of this world. To be shut out from all you
love, buried in a gloomy cell like this, and con-
demned to drag out a worthless life without ever
seeing the sun rise, hearing the birds sing, or feeling
the breath of heaven; and all this because you have
committed the crime of being poor—is it not terri-
ble? he exclaimed suddenly, stopping in his excited walk, and looking me in the face with an ex-
pression I shall never forget.

What could I say? I muttered something—
what it was I know not—my heart was full. It
seemed, however, to recall him to himself

"But this is useless," he said, and why should
I complain? I am in a lawful labyrinth—better
have trod it before me. Thank God! my oppressor
is not here to see my weakness; and you I know
will never betray me. How would it have tortured
my poor Mary had she seen it. Sweet noble wo-
man! It must not be—I must hide the vulture at
my heart. But she will discover at last that there
is no hope, and then how terrible the blow! It will
break her heart. Oh! God, he continued frantically,
"if this could only have been spared me. Mary—
poor sweet Mary," and leaning upon his hand, his
whole frame shook convulsively with his emotions
It was a fearful sight to see a strong man thus bowed
in agony; an agony more for another's sufferings
than for his own.

I draw a veil over the rest of that day's record.
and pass by several pages of my port-folio. R—
was inexorable, and though every effort was made
to avert calamity, it soon became evident that it
would be long before he relented.

[To be Continued.]