The Three Clerks by Anthony Trollope

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So much having been settled, he got into a cab with his attorney,
and having dropped that gentleman on the road, he returned home.
The excitement of the examination and the necessity for action
had sustained him? but now--what was to sustain him now? How was
he to get through the intervening fortnight, banished as he was
from his office, from his club, and from all haunts of men? His
attorney, who had other rogues to attend to besides him, made
certain set appointments with him--and for the rest, he might sit
at home and console himself as best he might with his own
thoughts. 'Excelsior!' This was the pass to which 'Excelsior' had
brought _Sic itur ad astro!_--Alas, his road had taken him
hitherto in quite a different direction.

He sent for Charley, and when Charley came he made Gertrude
explain to him what had happened. He had confessed his own fault
once, to his own wife, and he could not bring himself to do it
again. Charley was thunderstruck at the greatness of the ruin,
but he offered what assistance he could give. Anything that he
could do, he would. Alaric had sent for him for a purpose, and
that purpose at any rate Charley could fulfil. He went into the
city to ascertain what was now the price of the Limehouse bridge
shares, and returned with the news that they were falling,
falling, falling.

No one else called at Alaric's door that day. Mrs. Val, though
she did not come there, by no means allowed her horses to be
idle; she went about sedulously among her acquaintance, dropping
tidings of her daughter's losses. 'They will have enough left to
live upon, thank God,' said she; 'but did you ever hear of so
barefaced, so iniquitous a robbery? Well, I am not cruel; but my
own opinion is that he should certainly be hanged.'

To this Ugolina assented fully, adding, that she had been so
shocked by the suddenness and horror of the news, as to have
become perfectly incapacitated ever since for any high order of
thought.

Lactimel, whose soft bosom could not endure the idea of putting
an end to the life of a fellow-creature, suggested perpetual
banishment to the penal colonies; perhaps Norfolk Island. 'And
what will she do?' said Lactimel.

'Indeed I cannot guess,' said Ugolina; 'her education has been
sadly deficient.'

None but Charley called on Alaric that day, and he found himself
shut up alone with his wife and child. His own house seemed to
him a prison. He did not dare to leave it; he did not dare to
walk out and face the public as long as daylight continued; he
was ashamed to show himself, and so he sat alone in his dining-
room thinking, thinking, thinking. Do what he would, he could not
get those shares out of his mind; they had entered like iron into
his soul, as poison into his blood; they might still rise, they
might yet become of vast value, might pay all his debts, and
enable him to begin again. And then this had been a committee
day; he had had no means of knowing how things had gone there, of
learning the opinions of the members, of whispering to Mr. Piles,
or hearing the law on the matter laid down by the heavy deep
voice of the great Mr. Blocks. And so he went on thinking,
thinking, thinking, but ever as though he had a clock-weight
fixed to his heart and pulling at its strings. For, after all,
what were the shares or the committee to him? Let the shares rise
to ever so fabulous a value, let the Chancellor of the Exchequer
be ever so complaisant in giving away his money, what avail would
it be to him? what avail now? He must stand his trial for the
crime of which he had been guilty.

With the utmost patience Gertrude endeavoured to soothe him, and
to bring his mind into some temper in which it could employ
itself. She brought him their baby, thinking that he would play
with his child, but all that he said was--'My poor boy! I have
ruined him already;' and then turning away from the infant, he
thrust his hands deep into his trousers-pockets, and went on
calculating about the shares.

When the sun had well set, and the daylight had, at last,
dwindled out, he took up his hat and wandered out among the new
streets and rows of houses which lay between his own house and
the Western Railway. He got into a district in which he had never
been before, and as he walked about here, he thought of the fate
of other such swindlers as himself;--yes, though he did not speak
the word, he pronounced it as plainly, and as often, in the
utterance of his mind, as though it was being rung out to him
from every steeple in London; he thought of the fate of such
swindlers as himself; how one had been found dead in the streets,
poisoned by himself; how another, after facing the cleverest
lawyers in the land, was now dying in a felon's prison; how a
third had vainly endeavoured to fly from justice by aid of wigs,
false whiskers, painted furrows, and other disguises. Should he
try to escape also, and avoid the ignominy of a trial? He knew it
would be in vain; he knew that, at this moment, he was dogged at
the distance of some thirty yards by an amiable policeman in
mufti, placed to watch his motions by his two kind bailsmen, who
preferred this small expense to the risk of losing a thousand
pounds a-piece.

As he turned short round a corner, into the main road leading
from the railway station to Bayswater, he came close upon a man
who was walking quickly in the opposite direction, and found
himself face to face with Undy Scott. How on earth should Undy
Scott have come out there to Bayswater, at that hour of the
night, he, the constant denizen of clubs, the well-known
frequenter of Pall Mall, the member for the Tillietudlem burghs,
whose every hour was occupied in the looking after things
political, or things commercial? Who could have expected him in a
back road at Bayswater? There, however, he was, and Alaric,
before he knew of his presence, had almost stumbled against him.

'Scott!' said Alaric, starting back.

'Hallo, Tudor, what the deuce brings you here? but I suppose
you'll ask me the same question?' said Undy.

Alaric Tudor could not restrain himself. 'You scoundrel,' said
he, seizing Undy by the collar; 'you utterly unmitigated
scoundrel! You premeditated, wilful villain!' and he held Undy as
though he intended to choke him.

But Undy Scott was not a man to be thus roughly handled with
impunity; and in completing the education which he had received,
the use of his fists had not been overlooked. He let out with his
right hand, and struck Alaric twice with considerable force on
the side of his jaw, so that the teeth rattled in his mouth.

But Alaric, at the moment, hardly felt it. 'You have brought me
and mine to ruin,' said he; 'you have done it purposely, like a
fiend. But, low as I have fallen, I would not change places with
you for all that the earth holds. I have been a villain; but such
villany as yours--ugh--' and so saying, he flung his enemy from
him, and Undy, tottering back, saved himself against the wall.

In a continued personal contest between the two men, Undy would
probably have had the best of it, for he would certainly have
been the cooler of the two, and was also the more skilful in such
warfare; but he felt in a moment that he could gain nothing by
thrashing Tudor, whereas he might damage himself materially by
having his name brought forward at the present moment in
connexion with that of his old friend.

'You reprobate!' said he, preparing to pass on; 'it has been my
misfortune to know you, and one cannot touch pitch and not be
defiled. But, thank God, you'll come by your deserts now. If you
will take my advice you'll hang yourself;' and so they parted.

The amiable policeman in mufti remained at a convenient distance
during this little interview, having no special mission to keep
the peace, pending his present employment; but, as he passed by,
he peered into Undy's face, and recognized the honourable member
for the Tillietudlem burghs. A really sharp policeman knows every
one of any note in London. It might, perhaps, be useful that
evidence should be given at the forthcoming trial of the little
contest which we have described. If so, our friend in mufti was
prepared to give it.

On the following morning, at about eleven, a cab drove up to the
door, and Alaric, standing at the dining-room window, saw Mrs.
Woodward get out of it.

'There's your mother,' said Alaric to his wife. 'I will not see
her--let her go up to the drawing-room.'

'Oh! Alaric, will you not see mamma?'

'How can I, with my face swollen as it is now? Besides, what
would be the good? What can I say to her? I know well enough what
she has to say to me, without listening to it.'

'Dear Alaric, mamma will say nothing to you that is not kind; do
see her, for my sake, Alaric.'

But misery had not made him docile. He merely turned from her,
and shook his head impatiently. Gertrude then ran out to welcome
her mother, who was in the hall.

And what a welcoming it was! 'Come upstairs, mamma, come into the
drawing-room,' said Gertrude, who would not stop even to kiss her
mother till they found themselves secured from the servants'
eyes. She knew that one word of tenderness would bring her to the
ground.

'Mamma, mamma!' she almost shrieked, and throwing herself into
her mother's arms wept convulsively. Mrs. Woodward wanted no more
words to tell her that Alaric had been guilty.

'But, Gertrude, how much is it?' whispered the mother, as, after
a few moments of passionate grief, they sat holding each other's
hands on the sofa. 'How much money is wanting? Can we not make it
up? If it be all paid before the day of trial, will not that do?
will not that prevent it?'

Gertrude could not say. She knew that L10,000 had been
abstracted. Mrs. Woodward groaned as she heard the sum named. But
then there were those shares, which had not long since been worth
much more than half that sum, which must still be worth a large
part of it.

'But we must know, dearest, before Harry can do anything,' said
Mrs. Woodward.

Gertrude blushed crimson when Harry Norman's name was mentioned.
And had it come to that--that they must look to him for aid?

'Can you not ask him, love?' said Mrs. Woodward. 'I saw him in
the dining-room; go and ask him; when he knows that we are doing
our best for him, surely he will help us.'

Gertrude, with a heavy heart, went down on her message, and did
not return for fifteen or twenty minutes. It may easily be
conceived that Norman's name was not mentioned between her and
her husband, but she made him understand that an effort would be
made for him if only the truth could be ascertained.

'It will be of no use,' said he.

'Don't say so, Alaric; we cannot tell what may be of use. But at
any rate it will be weight off your heart to know that this money
has been paid. It is that which overpowers you now, and not your
own misfortune.'

At last he suffered her to lead him, and she put down on paper
such figures as he dictated to her. It was, however, impossible
to say what was the actual deficiency; that must depend upon the
present value of the shares; these he said he was prepared to
give over to his own attorney, if it was thought that by so doing
he should be taking the best steps towards repairing the evil he
had done; and then he began calculating how much the shares might
possibly be worth, and pointing out under what circumstances they
should be sold, and under what again they should be overheld till
the market had improved. All this was worse than Greek to
Gertrude; but she collected what facts she could, and then
returned to her mother.

And they discussed the matter with all the wit and all the
volubility which women have on such occasions. Paper was brought
forth, and accounts were made out between them, not such as would
please the eyes of a Civil Service Examiner, but yet accurate in
their way. How they worked and racked their brains, and strained
their women's nerves in planning how justice might be defeated,
and the dishonesty of the loved one covered from shame! Uncle Bat
was ready with his share. He had received such explanation as
Mrs. Woodward had been able to give, and though when he first
heard the news he had spoken severely of Alaric, still his money
should be forthcoming for the service of the family. He could
produce some fifteen hundred pounds; and would if needs be that
he should do so. Then Harry--but the pen fell from Gertrude's
fingers as she essayed to write down Harry Norman's contribution
to the relief of her husband's misery.

'Remember, Gertrude, love, in how short a time he will be your
brother.'

'But when will it be, mamma? Is it to be on Thursday, as we had
planned? Of course, mamma, I cannot be there.'

And then there was a break in their accounts, and Mrs. Woodward
explained to Gertrude that they had all thought it better to
postpone Linda's marriage till after the trial; and this, of
course was the source of fresh grief. When men such as Alaric
Tudor stoop to dishonesty, the penalties of detection are not
confined to their own hearthstone. The higher are the branches of
the tree and the wider, the greater will be the extent of earth
which its fall will disturb.

Gertrude's pen, however, again went to work. The shares were put
down at L5,000. 'If they can only be sold for so much, I think we
may manage it,' said Mrs. Woodward; 'I am sure that Harry can get
the remainder--indeed he said he could have more than that.'

'And what will Linda do?'

'Linda will never want it, love; and if she did, what of that?
would she not give all she has for you?'

And then Mrs. Woodward went her way to Norman's office, without
having spoken to Alaric. 'You will come again soon, mamma,' said
Gertrude. Mrs. Woodward promised that she would.

'And, mamma,' and she whispered close into her mother's ear, as
she made her next request; 'and, mamma, you will be with me on
that day?'

We need not follow Norman in his efforts to have her full fortune
restored to Madame Jaquetanape. He was daily in connexion with
Alaric's lawyer, and returned sometimes with hope and sometimes
without it. Mrs. Val's lawyer would receive no overtures towards
a withdrawal of the charge, or even towards any mitigation in
their proceedings, unless the agent coming forward on behalf of
the lady's late trustee, did so with the full sum of L20,000 in
his hands.

We need not follow Charley, who was everyday with Alaric, and who
was, unknown to Alaric, an agent between him and Norman. 'Well,
Charley, what are they doing to-day?' was Alaric's constant
question to him, even up to the very eve of his trial.

If any spirit ever walks it must be that of the stockjobber, for
how can such a one rest in its grave without knowing what shares
are doing?

CHAPTER XXXIX

THE LAST BREAKFAST

And that day was not long in coming; indeed, it came with
terrible alacrity; much too quickly for Gertrude, much too
quickly for Norman; and much too quickly for Alaric's lawyer. To
Alaric only did the time pass slowly, for he found himself
utterly without employment.

Norman and Uncle Bat between them had raised something about
L6,000; but when the day came on which they were prepared to
dispose of the shares, the Limehouse bridge was found to be worth
nothing. They were, as the broker had said, ticklish stock; so
ticklish that no one would have them at any price. When Undy,
together with his agent from Tillietudlem, went into the market
about the same time to dispose of theirs, they were equally
unsuccessful. How the agent looked and spoke and felt may be
imagined; for the agent had made large advances, and had no other
security; but Undy had borne such looks and speeches before, and
merely said that it was very odd--extremely odd; he had been
greatly deceived by Mr. Piles. Mr. Piles also said it was very
odd; but he did not appear to be nearly so much annoyed as the
agent from Tillietudlem; and it was whispered that, queer as
things now looked, Messrs. Blocks, Piles, and Cofferdam, had not
made a bad thing of the bridge.

Overture after overture was made to the lawyer employed by Mrs.
Val's party. Norman first offered the L6,000 and the shares; then
when the shares were utterly rejected by the share-buying world,
he offered to make himself personally responsible for the
remainder of the debt, and to bind himself by bond to pay it
within six months. At first these propositions were listened to,
and Alaric's friends were led to believe that the matter would be
handled in such a way that the prosecution would fall to the
ground. But at last all composition was refused. The adverse
attorney declared, first, that he was not able to accept any
money payment short of the full amount with interest, and then he
averred, that as criminal proceedings had been taken they could
not now be stayed. Whether or no Alaric's night attack had
anything to do with this, whether Undy had been the means of
instigating this rigid adherence to justice, we are not prepared
to say.

That day for which Gertrude had prayed her mother's assistance
came all too soon. They had become at last aware that the trial
must go on. Charley was with them on the last evening, and
completed their despair by telling them that their attorney had
resolved to make no further efforts at a compromise.

Perhaps the most painful feeling to Gertrude through the whole of
the last fortnight had been the total prostration of her
husband's energy, and almost of his intellect; he seemed to have
lost the power of judging for himself, and of thinking and
deciding what conduct would be best for him in his present
condition. He who had been so energetic, so full of life, so
ready for all emergencies, so clever at devices, so able to
manage not only for himself but for his friends, he was, as it
were, paralysed and unmanned. He sat from morning to night
looking at the empty fire-grate, and hardly ventured to speak of
the ordeal that he had to undergo.

His lawyer was to call for him on the morning of the trial, and
Mrs. Woodward was to be at the house soon after he had left it.
He had not yet seen her since the inquiry had commenced, and it
was very plain that he did not wish to do so. Mrs. Woodward was
to be there and to remain till his fate had been decided, and
then--Not a word had yet been said as to the chance of his not
returning; but Mrs. Woodward was aware that he would probably be
unable to do so, and felt, that if such should be the case, she
could not leave her daughter alone.

And so Alaric and his wife sat down to breakfast on that last
morning. She had brought their boy down; but as she perceived
that the child's presence did not please his father, he had been
sent back to the nursery, and they were alone. She poured out his
tea for him, put bread upon his plate, and then sat down close
beside him, endeavouring to persuade him to eat. She had never
yet found fault with him, she had never even ventured to give him
counsel, but now she longed to entreat him to collect himself and
take a man's part in the coming trial. He sat in the seat
prepared for him, but, instead of eating, he thrust his hands
after his accustomed manner into his pockets and sat glowering at
the teacups.

'Come, Alaric, won't you eat your breakfast?' said she.

'No; breakfast! no-how can I eat now? how can you think that I
could eat at such a time as this? Do you take yours; never mind
me.'

'But, dearest, you will be faint if you do not eat; think what
you have to go through; remember how many eyes will be on you to-
day.'

He shuddered violently as she spoke, and motioned to her with his
hand not to go on with what she was saying.

'I know, I know,' said she passionately, 'dearest, dearest love--
I know how dreadful it is; would that I could bear it for you!
would that I could!'

He turned away his head, for a tear was in his eye. It was the
first that had come to his assistance since this sorrow had come
upon him.

'Don't turn from me, dearest Alaric; do not turn from me now at
our last moments. To me at least you are the same noble Alaric
that you ever were.'

'Noble!' said he, with all the self-scorn which he so truly felt.

'To me you are, now as ever; but, Alaric, I do so fear that you
will want strength, physical strength, you know, to go through
all this. I would have you bear yourself like a man before them
all.'

'It will be but little matter,' said he.

'It will be matter. It will be matter to me. My darling, darling
husband, rouse yourself,' and she knelt before his knees and
prayed to him; 'for my sake do it; eat and drink that you may
have the power of a man when all the world is looking at you. If
God forgives us our sins, surely we should so carry ourselves
that men may not be ashamed to do so.'

He did not answer her, but he turned to the table and broke the
bread, and put his lips to the cup. And then she gave him food as
she would give it to a child, and he with a child's obedience ate
and drank what was put before him. As he did so, every now and
again a single tear forced itself beneath his eyelid and trickled
down his face, and in some degree Gertrude was comforted.

He had hardly finished his enforced breakfast when the cab and
the lawyer came to the door. The learned gentleman had the good
taste not to come in, and so the servant told them that Mr.
Gitemthruet was there.

'Say that your master will be with him in a minute,' said
Gertrude, quite coolly; and then the room door was again closed,
and the husband and wife had now to say adieu.

Alaric rose from his chair and made a faint attempt to smile.
'Well, Gertrude,' said he, 'it has come at last.'

She rushed into his embrace, and throwing her arms around him,
buried her face upon his breast. 'Alaric, Alaric, my husband! my
love, my best, my own, my only love!'

'I cannot say much now, Gertrude, but I know how good you are;
you will come and see me, if they will let you, won't you?'

'See you!' said she, starting back, but still holding him and
looking up earnestly into his face. 'See you!' and then she
poured out her love with all the passion of a Ruth: '"Whither
thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge....
Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried; the
Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and
me." See you, Alaric; oh, it cannot be that they will hinder the
wife from being with her husband. But, Alaric,' she went on, 'do
not droop now, love--will you?'

'I cannot brazen it out,' said he. 'I know too well what it is
that I have done.'

'No, not that, Alaric; I would not have that. But remember, all
is not over, whatever they may do. Ah, how little will really be
over, whatever they can do! You have repented, have you not,
Alaric?'

'I think so, I hope so,' said Alaric, with his eyes upon the
ground.

'You have repented, and are right before God; do not fear then
what man can do to you. I would not have you brazen, Alaric; but
be manly, be collected, be your own self, the man that I have
loved, the man that I do now love so well, better, better than
ever;' and she threw herself on him and kissed him and clung to
him, and stroked his hair and put her hand upon his face, and
then holding him from her, looked up to him as though he were a
hero whom she all but worshipped.

'Gertrude, Gertrude--that I should have brought you to this!'

'Never mind,' said she; 'we will win through it yet--we will yet
be happy together, far, far away from here--remember that--let
that support you through all. And now, Alaric, you will come up
for one moment and kiss him before you go.'

'The man will be impatient.'

'Never mind; let him be impatient-you shall not go away without
blessing your boy; come up, Alaric.' And she took him by the hand
and led him like a child into the nursery.

'Where is the nurse? bring him here--papa is going away--Alley,
boy, give papa a big kiss.'

Alaric, for the first time for the fortnight, took the little
fellow into his arms and kissed him. 'God bless you, my bairn,'
said he, 'and grant that all this may never be visited against
you, here or hereafter!'

'And now go,' said Gertrude, as they descended the stairs
together, 'and may God in His mercy watch over and protect you
and give you back to me! And, Alaric, wherever you are I will be
close to you, remember that. I will be quite, quite close to you.
Now, one kiss--oh, dearest, dearest Alaric--there--there--now
go.' And so he went, and Gertrude shutting herself into her room
threw herself on to the bed, and wept aloud.

CHAPTER XL

MR. CHAFFANBRASS

We must now follow Alaric to his trial. He was, of course, much
too soon at court. All people always are, who are brought to the
court perforce, criminals for instance, and witnesses, and other
such-like unfortunate wretches; whereas many of those who only go
there to earn their bread are very often as much too late. He was
to be tried at the Old Bailey. As I have never seen the place,
and as so many others have seen it, I will not attempt to
describe it. Here Mr. Gitemthruet was quite at home; he hustled
and jostled, elbowed and ordered, as though he were the second
great man of the place, and the client whom he was to defend was
the first. In this latter opinion he was certainly right. Alaric
was the hero of the day, and people made way for him as though he
had won a victory in India, and was going to receive the freedom
of the city in a box. As he passed by, a gleam of light fell on
him from a window, and at the instant three different artists had
him photographed, daguerreotyped, and bedevilled; four graphic
members of the public press took down the details of his hat,
whiskers, coat, trousers, and boots; and the sub-editor of the
_Daily Delight_ observed that 'there was a slight tremor in
the first footstep which he took within the precincts of the
prison, but in every other respect his demeanour was dignified
and his presence manly; he had light-brown gloves, one of which
was on his left hand, but the other was allowed to swing from his
fingers. The court was extremely crowded, and some fair ladies
appeared there to grace its customarily ungracious walls. On the
bench we observed Lord Killtime, Sir Gregory Hardlines, and Mr.
Whip Vigil. Mr. Undecimus Scott, who had been summoned as a
witness by the prisoner, was also accommodated by the sheriffs
with a seat.' Such was the opening paragraph of the seven columns
which were devoted by the _Daily Delight_ to the all-absorbing
subject.