Fairy Fingers Part 53

Before Maurice could hand the letter, it was eagerly s.n.a.t.c.hed by the count. His face grew livid as he read,--his white lips were tightly compressed,--but could not shut in the sound of a convulsive groan.

Maurice, not suspecting the true cause of his father's agitation, went on,--

"The language is rude; the accusation is made in the most unmannerly style, and as if its justice were beyond doubt; but business men, in this country, are usually abrupt, and, when they are annoyed, not too courteous; one must get accustomed to their manner. My dear father, do not let this mistake affect you too deeply; it will easily be rectified.

But, first, let me explain the transaction."

The count dropped his head without speaking, but again the sound of a half-suppressed groan was audible.

"An opportunity offered," continued Maurice, "for the advantageous employment of ten thousand dollars. Mr. Lorrillard suggested my raising the money through Mr. Emerson, on the security of the Maryland estate."

The count staggered and sank into a chair. The hour of discovery then had arrived,--there was no escape! Like those hopeless culprits before the eternal judgment-seat, he could have cried out to the mountains to fall upon him and hide him.

Maurice was too much alarmed by his father's appearance to go on. The death-like pallor of his face had given place to a purple hue; his veins seemed swollen; his blood-shot eyes appeared to be starting from their sockets; his stalwart frame shivered from head to foot; he clutched the table as though for support, and his head dropped heavily upon it.

"My dear father," exclaimed Maurice, "do not let the mistake move you thus. I will go to Mr. Emerson at once"--

The count's face was lifted for an instant, as he cried in a tone of intense agony, "No, no! Not for the world!"

His head fell again; he could not bear the unsuspicious gaze of the son whom he had wronged, and in whose presence he sat, a self-condemned criminal.

"Surely it is the fitting course," replied Maurice. "I will make him retract his words."

"Impossible!" was all the count could e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e, still with bowed head.

"But I will prove it very possible!" returned Maurice, in a tone of determination. "Mr. Emerson cannot use such language with impunity.

Though he threatens that the affair shall be made public, he cannot act so rashly as to carry out that menace, and upon a mere surmise of some kind. If there is any _publicity_, he shall publicly retract."

"Impossible! Impossible!" the count groaned forth again.

"That will soon be decided," answered Maurice, moving toward the door.

The count started up.

"Stay! do not go yet! You do not know what you are doing! Stay! I forbid you to go!"

Maurice had such thorough confidence in his father's probity, that his suspicions were not aroused even by this vehement language. He only imagined that the very suggestion of a dishonorable action a.s.sociated with his son's name affected Count Tristan thus powerfully.

"But it is absolutely necessary that immediate notice should be taken of this letter," argued Maurice. "If I had been guilty of the act of which I have been accused, I could never have lifted my head again, and I feel degraded by the very suspicion. Do not detain me, I entreat you."

"There is something you must hear before you go!" the count whispered hoa.r.s.ely.

For the first time an indefinable dread stole into the mind of Maurice.

He put down his hat, and, approaching his father, could only echo the words,--

"Something I must hear?"

"You should have consulted me," the count continued, speaking with great effort.

"True, and I meant to do so, had I not been prevented. But the transaction was simple enough. My estate is unmortgaged. I had given you a power of attorney, but I knew that it had not been used; you told me so yourself, scarcely an hour before I requested Mr. Emerson to make me this loan."

"No--no,--I did not say _that_;--you misunderstood me,--I did not say _that_,--I never said _that!_ You only _inferred_ it! I could not be answerable for your _inferences_," returned the count, in the tone of a man defending himself.

"Great heavens! What does this mean?" exclaimed Maurice "I cannot have misunderstood you? You cannot have used the power of attorney?"

The count was silent, but the shame and confusion depicted upon his countenance were a fearful answer.

It was some minutes before Maurice could rally sufficiently to take a clear view of his own position. His first impulse caused him to turn to his father in an excess of rage; but the broken, contrite, abject demeanor of the latter silenced the angry reproaches that were bursting from his son's lips.

The count was the first to break the silence.

He said, in a pleading, exculpatory tone,--

"There was no other way; matters had gone terribly wrong with me in Brittany; we were reduced to worse than poverty; I was frightfully entangled; nothing remained but a mortgage upon your property."

"What Mr. Emerson writes me in this letter is true, then?" was all Maurice could utter; but his tone pierced his father as deeply as the sharpest reproaches.

The count a.s.sented.

Maurice, unable longer to control himself, broke forth, "And I shall not only be forced to endure the blighting suspicion of being guilty myself, but I must bear the terrible certainty that my father is so!"

The count only murmured in broken accents, "Oh, if the committee should select the left road!"

Maurice caught eagerly at the faint hope, and after a few moments'

reflection, replied in a voice which, in spite of its coldness, was not without a touch of pity,--

"I must see Mr. Emerson, and make an effort to postpone his present intentions until the decision is made."

"It will be against us!" cried the count, vehemently. "Mr. Rutledge has made up his mind to vote for the road to the right; that one vote would have saved us! But we are too unfortunate; there is no longer a chance left!"

Maurice went forth without replying.

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

A SURPRISE.

The severe mental suffering that he endured during the half hour that was occupied in walking from Brown's hotel to the office of Mr. Emerson, may easily be conceived. On reaching that gentleman's place of business, Maurice learned that he was not within, but would probably return immediately. The young viscount was painfully conscious that the clerks answered his inquiries with a pointedly cold brevity. He saw them glance at each other, and one of them shrugged his shoulders, and gave a low whistle as Maurice seated himself to wait. The blood mounted to his face at this indignity, and rage took the place of mortification; but he could only nerve himself to endure with a.s.sumed composure the scorn he so little deserved. It was half an hour before Mr. Emerson entered.

"The business which brings me here is so important that I took the liberty of waiting," said Maurice, rising.

Mr. Emerson answered, stiffly,--

"Have the goodness to walk into my private apartment."

Maurice obeyed.