University of Virginia Library

1. SYDNEY CLIFTON

1. CHAPTER I.

The elder Mr. De Lyle, whose early attachment
to Clifton was evinced by placing him in so favourable
a situation in his counting-room, that, with ordinary
application, he would speedily acquire all the
knowledge requisite to success in mercantile pursuits,
learned with the most poignant regret the conspicuous
part assigned to his protegé, both in the offences
connected with the gamblers, and the duel which
succeeded.

That kind and benevolent merchant had previously
observed, with high gratification, the promptitude,
tact, and judgment displayed by our hero in
critical business emergencies, which was not a little
increased on ascertaining that his leisure hours were
spent in strengthening and perfecting the powers of
his intellect, rather than in the idle pursuit of frivolity
and amusement. That Clifton's services were
almost indispensable to the successful prosecution of
Mr. De Lyle's extensive business operations will be
readily conceived; but it is no more than justice to
the latter gentleman to state that his regret for the
young man's supposed criminality arose from no
selfish or interested considerations. A long and harmonious
intercourse had resulted in a warm but respectful
attachment on the part of the clerk, and a
confiding and no less ardent regard on that of the
employer; and Mr. De Lyle's unhappiness on learning
the disgrace of poor Clifton could scarcely have
been augmented if it had fallen to the lot of his only
son. The unpleasant feelings caused by these untoward
events had prevented the worthy gentleman
from enjoying his usual rest, on the night that followed
Clifton's departure for Europe; and arising
early, he proceeded to the counting-room to wile
away the time previous to the customary breakfast
hour. The more he dwelt on the subject of Clifton's
alleged delinquencies, the more fully he became
convinced that there were unexplained circumstances
connected with the transactions in which he was

implicated; for that a high-minded, frank, and moral
individual should suddenly descend to the lowest
depths of depravity and baseness, appeared to his
experience in human nature improbable and unnatural.

Occupied with these thoughts, he reached his
office as the porter was unlocking the door; and
throwing himself into his chair, he still continued to
meditate on Clifton's unfortunate situation. He had
not long been seated when his son entered the counting-room,
and appeared not a little disconcerted at
meeting his father at so unusual an hour. The
elder Mr. De Lyle thought it no less surprising that
the young gentleman, whose devotion to morning
slumbers was proverbial, had accidentally selected
the same day with himself to break through an obstinate
habit.

“Why, my son,” said Mr. De Lyle, “to what
strange circumstance may I attribute this early visit
to the counting-room? It is rare indeed to find you
abroad at this hour.”

“Oh, you know that poor Sydney has been compelled
to abandon his post rather abruptly, so I
thought it necessary for me to bestir myself until
some capable person is installed in his situation,”
replied the ready-witted roué.

A long conversation on various topics ensued, a
large portion of which was devoted to Clifton's arrest
and disgrace; and the wily junior more than
emulated his parent's liberality in framing excuses

for his apparent offences. After perusing the morning
papers, the younger Mr. De Lyle unlocked the
ponderous iron safe in which were placed the most
valuable and important papers belonging to the firm,
and opening a private drawer, exclaimed, with well-feigned
surprise,

“Dear father, I thought you placed the three
thousand dollars paid us on Saturday afternoon after
bank hours, in this drawer. How does it happen
that it is not here now? Have you removed it?”

“Look again, my son,” replied the senior; “I
have not been near the office since I placed it in the
drawer, and if it is not there we are certainly robbed.”

“It is surely missing,” was the reply, “and has
been abstracted in a most mysterious manner, for
neither the lock of the chest nor that of the drawer
appears injured in the least.”

On questioning the porter, he stated that the doors
of the counting-room and storehouse were locked
when he arrived, and that all things appeared in
the same state about the premises that they were in
when he closed the office on the preceding Saturday
evening. As Clifton was the only person entrusted
with duplicate keys, and as the robbery had evidently
been perpetrated by a person whose knowledge
of the premises was perfect, it is not surprising
that the faith of the elder Mr. De Lyle in our hero's
integrity was somewhat shaken by the strong presumptive
proofs that were arrayed against him. To

confirm these suspicions, his son artfully introduced
several circumstances which tended to Clifton's crimination,
although he continued most vehemently
to protest that he did not for a moment believe him
guilty of the robbery. The substance of these statements
was, that the younger De Lyle had, on reaching
the boat, previous to Clifton's embarkation, incidentally
communicated to him the fact that a large
sum of money was deposited in the iron safe, at the
same time requesting from him the keys of the storehouse,
office, safe, and drawers, to which Clifton had
replied that they were left at his boarding-house. De
Lyle farther said, that having accidentally observed
Clifton withdraw a bunch of keys from his pocket,
and hastily thrust them back again, while at the
house of his foster parents, which he at the time
supposed were the office keys, he requested him to
examine his pockets again, lest they might inadvertently
be still in his possession, which Clifton
affected to do, and again stating that they were at
his lodgings, abruptly directed the boatmen to push
from the wharf, and waved a hasty and unceremonious
adieu.

On the recital of these circumstances, the porter
was despatched to Clifton's former residence, and
soon returned with the missing keys, stating that
he was informed by the servant who gave them to
him, that a man, dressed in the apparel of a seaman,
had left them at the house on the previous
morning at a very early hour. Not with standing

these criminating circumstances, the younger De
Lyle did not fail to accompany his detail of every
additional proof of Clifton's guilt, with the remark
that he was still unconvinced of his participation in
the robbery.

“Poor Clifton,” he said, “cannot be capable of so
base and ungrateful an act, the more especially as
you, father, have ever been his firm and undeviating
friend. No, no; I'll not believe it. That he may
have been led to the gaming-house and become
fascinated with the excitement which has lured so
many to their ruin, is not improbable; but to suppose
him guilty of so daring a robbery is what
I will never do, except on the most conclusive testimony.”

On farther consultation, it was deemed expedient
to offer a reward of three hundred dollars for the recovery
of the money and the detection of the robber,
or two hundred, for the delivery of the money only.
The following day an individual, apparently of the
middle rank in life, called at the counting-room of
De Lyle, Howard & Co., and solicited a private
interview with the senior partner of the firm. Being
introduced to the elder Mr. De Lyle, he stated that he
called in consequence of perceiving, by an advertisement
in the papers of the day, that the firm had been
robbed of a large sum of money, and having cause
to believe that he was acquainted with some facts
connected with the robbery, he deemed it his duty
to furnish the information. He then related, that

about five o'clock on the morning of the preceding
Sabbath, just before the dawn of day, he observed by
the light of a lamp three individuals, two of whom
were evidently seamen, while the third was a tall
and well-dressed young gentleman, emerging from
a store in the neighbourhood of that of De Lyle,
Howard & Co., but from the circumstance of his
not being a resident of the city, he could not positively
identify the premises. His first impressions
were, that they harboured an evil design; but the
apparent knowledge displayed by the young gentleman,
of the fastenings of the establishment, and the
business-like air with which he returned to a second
examination after leaving the premises, convinced
him that all was right. Curiosity having induced
him to watch the movements of the party, he followed
them at a short distance, and observed them
enter a row-boat, and proceed towards a vessel that
lay in the stream.

During this recital, the features of Mr. De Lyle
attested the anguish of his feelings, for it dissipated
the last doubt that still lingered on his mind of our
hero's participation in the robbery. The relater,
who called himself James Wallis, farther stated,
that he recollected distinctly hearing the name of
De Lyle mentioned by one of the party, as they
closed the door; remarking, that a letter to his address
would, if left in the post-office, reach him
through a friend residing in the city, should his testimony
be found useful at any subsequent period.

This statement was afterward communicated by
Mr. De Lyle to his son, who, with much assumed
reluctance, asserted that he could no longer doubt
Clifton's guilt, however painful such a conclusion
was to his feelings, in consequence of the friendship
he professed to have before entertained for the
culprit.

Being now confident that the last link in the
chain of Clifton's ruin was complete, De Lyle
called at the dwelling of Mr. Elwell, to communicate
the additional testimony of his guilt to some
member of the family, who, he was persuaded would
repeat the tale to Miss Borrowdale; but his pleasure
was somewhat lessened on learning that the unhappy
girl had returned to the residence of her
parents in Massachusetts. Helen, however, on the
receipt of his card, descended to the parlour, and on
inquiring the news of the day, was informed of
those circumstances with which the reader is acquainted,
and which were so fatally calculated to
criminate our doomed hero.

During the recital, the piercing eye of Helen Elwell
was steadily fixed on the features of the relater; and
perceiving that he evidently quailed before the intensity
of her gaze, she ventured, as he paused, to
remark, with much solemnity of tone and manner:—

“Mr. De Lyle, circumstances unnecessary to detail
have placed in my possession the most conclusive
proofs of your agency in effecting the destruction of

Mr. Clifton; and pardon me when I declare that a
more malignant or discreditable conspiracy toruin a
reputable and virtuous citizen, has never come to
my knowledge. That these efforts have been caused
by the unmanly passion of jealousy, is also within
my knowledge; and although your skill in deception
has diverted the attention of Mr. Clifton from
yourself to another individual, yet the time is approaching,
when the world will be informed of your
criminality. Being perfectly advised of all the facts,
I, of course, require no admissions from yourself;
but as you value your reputation and future prospects,
devise some speedy method of exonerating
Mr. Clifton from the imputations which rest on his
character. A week, even a day, may be too late;
for the train is already laid, which, if permitted to
explode, will overwhelm you with inevitable destruction.”

The artful girl clearly perceived, as she proceeded,
that the conjectures aroused by the sudden start of
De Lyle at the interview which has been described
in a previous chapter, were confirmed by his deportment
on the present occasion; nor did her judgment
fail to detect, in his frequent visits to Miss Borrowdale,
the object whose attractions had led him to
such desperate measures for the prostration of his
rival. Rising, therefore, as she closed her address,
with a stern countenance and gesture of command,
she appeared to the alarmed roué the priestess of
destiny, pronouncing the doom whose unspeakable

horrors had frequently been revealed to his mental
sight in the shadowy land of dreams, and which now
excited in his bosom the most intense feelings of apprehension.
Impressed with the belief that Burchard
had, by some means, been induced to betray
him, and determined, if practicable, to learn the
truth, as well as the extent of Helen's information,
he said,

“I regret, Miss Elwell, that some malicious talebearer
has been insinuating in your ear charges
against me of so discreditable a character as your
language implies. Surely, no reputable individual
could have thus calumniated me.”

Helen, who recollected Burchard's testimony on
the examination of the gamblers, as related in the
daily papers, replied,

“Sir, the tools which envy and malice select, are
not, usually, either reputable or honourable. That
they are ready to join in the basest and most desperate
undertakings for a bribe, should cause their employers
to distrust them; for he, who, to accommodate
you, slanders Clifton to-day, may be equally
willing to confess the truth to-morrow, if he finds
a more liberal patron. But enough has been said.
I have pointed out the course your safety demands:
if you follow my advice, it is well:—if not, your ruin
be on your own head!”

The earnestness of her manner completely divested
De Lyle of his usual confidence, and baffled
all attempts to preserve his accustomed noncha

lance; and on her affecting to retire, he caught her
hand, and in the most abject and beseeching tone,
exclaimed,

“My dear Miss Elwell, for Heaven's sake tell me
at once what you know concerning this unfortunate
business. If any one has charged me with slandering
Clifton, I declare most solemnly that he has asserted
a falsehood.”

“This, sir, is mockery,” was Helen's reply. “If
you had frankly admitted the facts, of which I am in
full possession, I intended to point out a course which
would save you from the threatened exposure. As,
however, you choose to preserve an attitude of defiance,
it is well. Neither soliciting nor desiring your
confidence, it is useless to prolong this interview.
Before to-morrow's sun shall have gone down, you
will vainly wish you had been more ingenuous with
one who can have no earthly motive to inflict on
you an injury.”

“Miss Elwell, I will place myself entirely under
your guidance, if you will but tell me of what I am
accused and who is my accuser. I know of but one
person in this city who harbours ill-will against me,
and his character is such that it appears almost impossible
that a lady of your rank and respectability
can have listened to any tale which he could invent.”

“Well would it be for you, Mr. De Lyle, if his
testimony was unsupported by others of less questionable

respectability; but he who deals with treacherous
hirelings must expect them to emulate his
cunning, by fortifying themselves with sufficient
proofs, to be used if subsequent occasion requires.”

As Miss Elwell finished speaking, the entrance of
a visiter suspended the conversation, and this contest
of wits, which promised victory to the lady, was
still partially a drawn battle, although the fair antagonist
of De Lyle had discovered the defect in his
armour, and was fully prepared to avail herself of
the advantage. Compelled to await farther developments
until the arrival of a more favourable opportunity,
De Lyle bowed himself out of the room, saying
to Helen, as he left, that he would do himself
the pleasure of again paying his respects on the following
day.

On the departure of her visiter, Miss Elwell retired
to her boudoir, not a little gratified at the prospective
success of her efforts to draw from De Lyle
a confession which would lay bare the plans he had
conceived and matured for the ruin of his rival. Her
motives for her conduct in this matter were so complicated,
that it is difficult to sift the pure from the
selfish, or determine precisely the line which separated
the one from the other. Her passion for Clifton,
although not of that absorbing nature which
would rush to the possession of its object through
peril and disgrace, was yet sufficiently powerful to
seek a return at the expense of much personal exertion,

if it involved no consequences calculated to
jeopard her standing in fashionable society. The
arguments she had advanced to impress on the mind
of Julia a conviction of Clifton's unworthiness, if
not successful to the desired extent, had sufficed to
induce a tacit acquiescence in their force; and measuring
the feelings of her cousin by the standard
erected in her own breast, she did not hesitate to
conclude that a few months' residence in the secluded
mansion of her parents would effectually wean
her from an attachment of such recent and rapid
growth. This prominent obstacle to her wishes
being, as she believed, fully removed, her better feelings,
combined with a decided penchant for the
handsome and intelligent exile, induced her, as has
been perceived, to place in requisition all her shrewdness
and tact, to exonerate him from unmerited disgrace.
That she had struck the true chord was
evident, nor was she displeased when the presence
of a third party interrupted the conversation with
De Lyle, before he had the opportunity to insist upon
an explanation which she would have been compelled
to evade. Possessed of a cool, calculating
mind, whose discriminating perceptions were undimmed
by the shadows of feeling, she rarely judged
erroneously when the premises were unfolded to her
mental gaze; nor was she wrong in the supposition
that De Lyle's suspicions of the fidelity and secrecy
of his vicious subordinate, which she had fully
awakened, would excite a continued distrust and
apprehension, fatal to his peace, and eminently calculated,
by unnerving the roué, to plunge him head-long
into the trap by which she hoped to ensnare
him.