University of Virginia Library

3. CAAPTER III.

Henry Hart was only relieved from one
source of anxiety to be plunged into another.
In forming the co-partnership with his unprincipled
Clerk, Crocket Creech, he had
sought a temporary purpose. This purpose
he had effected. His notes were all met, and
his credit remained unsuspected. The secret
of the means by which it had been sustained
was known only to himself and his partner.—
But it was necessary not only to have money
to lift their notes as they came due, but also
for pursuing their business, and for their mutual
maintainance. The expense of Mr.
Hart's family, in his style of living was five
thousand dollars per annum; and Mr. Creech,
though a bachelor, as an equal partner, considered
himself entitled to an equal sum.—
One morning the two met in their counting
room. It was just a month after their criminal
copartnercy was formed; in consenting to
which, Mr. Hart felt that he had sold himself
to his unprincipled partner. Creech was
writing at the desk when Mr. Hart came in,
and silently sat down by the table to glance
over the morning papers. Creech paused in
in his writing, and after surveying the face of
his senior partner in the firm with penetrating
eyes, he laid aside the pen and approached the
table. Mr. Hart raised his eyes. They were
heavy and thoughtful. His brow looked care
worn. The frank and dignified bearing, the
open demeanor of the honest and upright merchant
were gone. He felt himself criminal,
and looked one.

`Well, Mr. Creech,' he said gloomily; `any
thing unpleasant to communicate?'

`No, sir, I have a little business on my
mind, we had best talk over.'

`Well,' answered Mr. Hart in a sort of despairing
tone of voice.

`The old notes are all paid in the Bank by

the new endorsements,' said Mr. Creech
cheerfully, and with a very well satisfied air.
`Our firm, under its present name, takes well.
Found no difficulty in getting the names I
asked. Everybody glad to oblige!' And Mr.
Creech looked precisely as if this universal
disposition to oblige was all owing to the connection
of his name with the house.

`It was surely a great relief to get those
notes and drafts paid,' said Henry Hart, looking
as if the means to which he had resorted
in conjunction with Creech, to meet them,
had left a heavier load on his mind than was
there before.

`It was. None of the new notes come due
under thirty-five days. Plenty of breathing
time, you see, Mr. Hart.'

The merchant sighed.

`You have too tender a conscience about
these matters, Mr. Hart,' said Creech, who
seemed to take to villainy with the greatest
facility in the world. `All we have done has
been in a business way. All fair and above
board till found out!'

`That is what troubles me! It will be very
difficult to conceal our operations long,' answered
Mr. Hart, looking into his partner's
face, as if for that strength and confidence he
felt himself so deficient in. It is true he had
consented to a course of criminal duplicity to
sustain his credit, but now that his credit had
been sustained he felt that the sense of wrong
was heavier upon him than the satisfaction
which he expected would have followed. He
would have rather now endure all the fears of
mercantile ruin he before experienced than
bear the pains of conscience and sense of self-degradation
which now pressed him to the
earth. He felt degraded, too, at his association
with another, who now acted out his true
character without fear; a character perfect in
cunning and duplicity; and wholly superior
to the twinges of conscience, or the reflections
of remorse. To be linked, inseparably, with
such a person whom he felt would stop at
nothing, now that power was placed in his
hands, caused him each day increasing alarm
and unavailing regrets. He felt his character
was wholly in his partner's hands; and
that if he chose he would make him the instrument
of any depraved villainy his fertile
brain might conceive.

Creech, on the other hand, felt all the advantages
of his connection with Mr. Hart.—
His acute, plotting mind foresaw all the benefits
that might accrue to himself from the partnership,
though on forming it l.e was well
aware Mr. Hart was not only not worth a dollar
in the world, but several thousands worse
than nothing. But Creech was honest only
where it was his interest to be so. He was
ready to be dishonest if he could thereby make
it more for his advantage than to remain honest.
The situation of Mr. Hart's affairs, with
the guilty proposition this gentleman made to
him to enable the house to sustain its falling
credit, presented to his mind a fair opening
for an advantageous investment of his genius.
He saw at a glance all the privileges and all
the risks. His eye coolly surveyed the dangers
that encompassed the path before him,
and his sagacity devised a way of escaping
their responsibility.

It has been seen with what art he effected
his purpose in becoming a partner in the
House. From this time seeming to act with
Mr. Hart, he acted only for himself. He made
Mr. Hart his instrument, even before that
gentleman had a fear awakened that he might
do so.

The endorsements to the notes to take up
the matured paper, were obtained personally
by Mr. Creech, from merchants with whom
he had mutually endorsed, but he in every instance
bore from Mr. Hart a line, which he
persuaded him to write, addressed to the
Houses whose endorsements were to be solicited
to this effect:

Thus Mr. Creech felt that if discovery took
place the responsibility could be easily removed
from his own shoulders to those of the senior
partner. Yet he felt he was not altogether
secure, and could not be too cautious.

`There can be no fear of detection, if we are
true to our own interests,' he said in reply to
the remarks of Mr. Hart.

Mr. Creech spoke significantly. The merchant
looked at him with a troubled countenance.

`You do not understand me, Mr. Hart,' said
the junior partner, taking a pen from behind
his ear, opening his penknife and cooly nibbing
it upon his thumb nail.

`No. If it is any more endorsing on nothing
I have done with it.'

`Pooh, pooh, sir, we have just began.'

`Just begun! Mr. Creech, I entered into
this matter with you, only for a specific end.'

`And is that end attained.'

`Yes. The notes are met, and the ruin that
menaced me postponed till I could have time
for reflection. I have reflected; and the conclusion
I have come to is, that the fruit is not
worth the risk I have run.'

`You surprise me! You then would prefer
being a bankrupt, to your present fair credit.'

`I am a bankrupt.'

`Only to yourself and me! The world is
ignorant of it.'

`I would rather have been honestly ruined
a month ago, by the loss of my vessels and
the other misfortunes that I brought not upon
myself, than be at this moment as I am, feeling
as I do. Then I should only have lost
my mercantile name, which would alone have
touched me. But now, detection of the
course I have resorted to will not only blast
my reputation as a merchant, but ruin my
character, and inflict upon my wife and children
indelible infamy.'

`What do you propose to do, sir?' asked
Mr. Creech, surprised at the emotion and
positive spirit shown by Mr. Hart, who after
speaking, rose up and paced the counting-room
with a highly agitated manner.

`Do?' he repeated sternly. `Stop where
we are.'

`And how will you meet the note with
Green & Kennedy's endorsement due in thirty
five days; and the other notes that all come
due within sixty days?'

`Not by getting other endorsements on false
paper,' answered Mr. Hart firmly.

`How then, sir?' asked the junior partner
quietly.

Mr. Hart was silent. He stopped in his
agitated walk and looked thoughtful.

`They must not be protested,' he said very
positively, his sensitiveness as a merchant
for the moment rising above every other feeling.

`It would bring inquiry and detection.'

`It may as well come first as last. I expect
every moment when the news of my losses
at sea will get into the papers; when, of
course, I shall be asked where I insured. If
I tell the truth my credit is impaired at once.
It is my intention, as soon as it is made public,
to use the news as a pretext for failing,
and it will be an excuse for not taking up the
notes due. Under color of it (as no one but
ourselves know of our having had letters,) I
can make an honest failure. I am tired of
this suspense—this state of alarm—this continued
fear of detection.

`This is a very weak and idle course, Mr.
Hurt. Besides, it is one I shall by no means
consent to. It is not my intention, a month
after entering into partnership to fail when I
can sustain myself.'

`You have no certainty that you can.'

`I have. We only need to act together—to
be bold and confident, and success and fortune
are ours.'

Mr. Hart stared with surprise at the resolute
words and manner of his partner. After
a moment he slowly shook his head.

`Impossible. I dare not risk it. I have a
wife—children who look up to me—'

`True,' interrupted Creech, not giving him
time to complete his sentence; `it is for this
very reason you should now go on as we have
begun. You say you are willing to fail.—
Will not this beggar those who look up to you
for support? Every thing will be taken, even
to your household furniture. You will be
turned into the street. You will have to rent
some wretched hovel. You will be accountable
for all the evils your family may suffer in
their poverty and destruction.'

`You paint a dreadful picture,' said Mr.
Hart, shuddering. `I feel all its truth, But
what I meant was, that in your disgrace, if
detection follows, no one is involved but yourself.
In mine, my family are mingled.'

`So much the more need to be firm now,
that you may bring upon them neither poverty
on one hand, nor disgrace on the other. I
I think I understand your feelings, Mr. Hart.

But your true position is this; on one hand
you are ready to surrender yourself as a bankrupt,
and become a beggar with your family!
On the other hand you have before you certain
support for them in their present position
in society, with only a risk that your mode of
doing business may possibly be discovered,
and bring upon you and them disgrace. On
one side is positive beggary; on the other
scarcely possible detection and dishonor. In
a word, Mr. Hart, you have gone too far to
recede.'

`I fear I have,' he said bitterly. But if I
consent longer to pursue this criminal course,
what certainty is there that it will profit us
beyond putting off the evil day, Mr. Creech?
You know well we have no money. How are
we to realize ten thousand a year to be shared
between us, and pay the salaries of our clerks?

God knows how we are to realize the first
hundred! We have in store about eight
thousand dollars worth of merchandize on
commission, which is already bargained for.
Our commissions will be a mere nothing. We
have false notes due altogether in six weeks,
to the amount of thirty-four thousand dollars,
of which we cannot pay a dollar. I owe for
the rent of the store eight hundred dollars,
and clerk's salaries now due, amount to twenty-one
hundred more. I owe heavy grocer's
accounts, and apothecary bills, and a hundred
other family debts. If you can tell me a better
course than to fail at once, let me hear it.'

`Fail you shall not, with my consent, sir,'
answered the junior partner in a resolute and,
as Mr. Hart thought, a menacing tone. `I
have too much at stake lightly to suffer such
a step to be taken.'

`Do you dictate, sir?

`No, sir. Let us understand one another
perfectly, Mr. Hart. In making me the confidant
of your affairs, you laid open to me the
duplicity of your character, because you needed
me. In becoming your confidaut I exposed
to you my own principles, which you see
are rather liberal. In a word, we communicated
(for purposes founded on mutual interest)
each to the other our true characters.—
We therefore mutually had a hold upon each
other. As partners in deception we are on
equal footiug. We are neither authorised to
dictate, and neither compelled, either, to succumb.
In this matter I am your equal. Now
tant I have let you see my character, I am not
going to part with the secret for nothing. I
must realise something by it.'

`In supposing me your equal in villainy,
sir,' said Mr. Hart with severe dignity, `you
labor under a great error. Your character, I
see is rotten thoroughly. My duplicity, of
which you speak, was caused by a sudden reverse,
and was only adopted to effect a temporary
object. I am now willing to atone for
my error by embracing the condition, which,
by a criminal course, I have attempted to flee.'

`We are embarked together. Take one
step towards this purpose, and I betray you
from the beginning, Mr. Hart. You are in
error if you think you can now go back with
honesty. All your late notes can be proved
to have been drawn since you were informed
of your losses. There are, besides, proofs
that—'

`Enough. I am in your toils, villain. Now
let me hear your plans!'

`You can call me names, Mr. Hart. I could
retort and apply them to you with equal force.
The consciousness of this is all the satisfaction
I ask. The course of conduct I propose
adopting you ask me to explain to you. I will
do so.'

As the junior partner spoke he advanced to
the desk where he had been writing when Mr.
Hart came in; and taking a key from his
pocket opened with it a small drawer and took
out several slips of paper. He then returned,
and taking a chair familiarly near the merchant,
laid them on the table.