University of Virginia Library

34. CHAPTER XXXIV.
HOW A WOMAN WAS TREATED BY A MAN.

Going back to his room, Mr. Incledon sat down, and
leaned his head upon his hand, and groaned.

Then what his friend had said was true! Then after
all, human nature—woman's nature—was essentially corrupt:
unworthy of all trust, and in its fairest showiness,
false and miserable!

All his beautiful dreams of human truth and purity
were chimeras—he had placed his faith in what was rotten
and crumbling—suspicion, hatred and contempt, must
henceforth fill his bosom, however it might yearn to feel
toward those around him, love and confidence.

The dreadful effect produced upon this man's heart, by
the cruel blow of the woman who had so basely deceived

him, showed itself plainly in his pale countenance—and in
the bitter moan which issued from his lips.

“Falsehood!” he murmured, “terrible falsehood! Can
it be? Falsehood in lip and eye, falsehood in voice and
manner, falsehood in smile and sigh, and word and
deed!—nothing but one gigantic falsehood!—which has
darkened everything before me, made me sour and bitter
and incredulous of all I see and hear, and meet—the very
air seems tainted with it!—pah! it sickens me!”

And shuddering, he crouched lower, and was silent.

In the depth of his soul there then commenced one of
those struggles, only known to men who possess powerful
impulses, vast strength of organization, and extreme sensibility.
For a time he uttered no sound, but remained
thus pale and overwhelmed with the thoughts which battled
in his bosom for the mastery.

He remained silent thus for nearly an hour, his face
still covered, his head bent down.

Then his head rose, and two tears moistened his fiery
eyes—tears that would not have bent a violet, but falling
on this woman's shoulders, should have weighed upon her
heavier than the rocks hurled on the Titans, crushing her
with agony, repentance, and remorse.

The struggle, as far as it referred to her, was ended.

“Poor child!” he murmured, in a tone of infinite pity,
“poor child, misled by passion, wrath, and evil!—I will
not judge her, though her act wrecks my faith and trust,
and confidence in woman, the purest as I thought, and
now, proved full of falsehood! Oh, Silvia! Silvia! the
woman who thus makes an honest gentleman turn with

horror and fear from all her sex, assumes a terrible responsibility.
But it is not for me to judge—my simple
duty is before me, and that I will do.”

And rising, he passed his hand across his hrow, and
leaning his elbow on the mantel-piece, murmured:

“O! my God grant pardon to this woman: I have
pardoned her!”

A moment's silence, a moment's prayer, sufficed to
make him calm again:—and summoning his servant, he
directed him to send any one who came to see him to Mr.
Sansoucy's office, whither he was going.

This caution referred simply to an expected call from a
gentleman on some ordinary and unimportant business:—
but it was instrumental, in no slight degree, in bringing
on the events which followed, as the reader will perceive.

Half an hour after Mr. Incledon's departure, Captain
Tarnish presented himself at the door, and asked the
servant for his master.

Mr. Incledon had gone out, the servant informed him,
and had left word that he might be found at Mr. Sansoucy's
office.

Captain Tarnish, who was clad in the most superb suit,
and whose mustaches—assisted by Macassar—curled ferociously
toward his eyes, received this intimation with a
scowl, and for an instant hesitated, looking at a note he
held daintily in his purple kid-covered fingers.

“Your master is a sneak, you rascal!” said the valiant
gentleman at last, conceiving this a happy expedient for
discharging all his pent-up dissatisfaction. Yes, a sneak!
and you may tell him so! I'd tell him so, if he was here—

I would! Don't look at me, you rascal, as if I would be
afraid! Try it again, and I'll cane you!”.

This address was so terrible that the negro's eyes, which
really had been full of the expression attributed to them
by Captain Tarnish, sank before him, and the worthy
triumphed.

He inserted the note into the breast-pocket of his surtout—scowled
generally at the apartment, and so took his
departure—not without hesitating, however, whether it
would be advisable to call at Mr. Sansoucy's room with
hostile views.

Recollecting speedily the fact, however, that Mr. Fantish
would probably “lend” him a good round sum for his
assistance; and that there was nothing absolutely calculated
to endanger his person in the visit, Captain Tarnish
assumed his most noble swagger, and with haughty mien
strode down the street toward the residence of Mr.
Sansoucy.