University of Virginia Library

38. CHAPTER XXXVIII.
OFFICIAL ATTRIBUTES AND VANITY OF AUTHORS.

The cabinet minister was seated in his capacious and
softly cushioned chair before a large oval shaped table
covered with many documents, and amply supplied with
costly stationery. The ceiling was lofty, and the office was
furnished in a style of grandeur becoming the liberality of
the government of a mighty confederacy. On either hand
were suits of ante-rooms and chambers. Messengers stood
in the spacious hall awaiting the tinkle of the great man's
silver bell; and scores of citizens, subordinate officers, and
members of Congress, were lolling on sofas or lounging
patiently in the ante-room, awaiting the moment when it
might be convenient for the secretary to grant them
audiences. There were those present who had opposed the
election of Mallex; but afterwards they became his constituents,
and now they felt no hesitation in petitioning
for official patronage.

Every individual in the crowd of eager expectants had
been named to the secretary by his astute messenger, Mr.
Spring, who had long acted in the capacity of one of his
most trusted spies, and was rewarded for his past services
by the position he now held, and stimulated to renewed
activity by the promise of a still more lucrative office in
the future.

“The secretary is particularly engaged at present,” was
the response Mr. Spring was heard to enunciate every few
minutes.

How was he engaged? He was hastening through the
last chapter of “The Dishonoured.”

“Fawner!” said he, when he laid down the book.
“Come in, Fawner.”

The old clerk entered deferentially from an adjoining
room.

“Sit down,” continued the secretary, pointing to a
sumptuous chair, and which his humble servant very gently

and timidly took possession of. “You say that Bainton
has returned to his post?”

“Oh yes, sir.”

“And is attentive, zealous, and greedy?”

“You would think so yourself, sir, if you could see him
operating. The first day he invested a hundred thousand
dollars in the Readings, at thirty, and a week after sold at
forty!”

“A good operation for a single week, and with only a
hundred thousand invested.”

“And then, sir, he loaned the money at two per cent. a
month, with good collateral security. You may depend
upon him now, sir. The spirit of acquisition wholly possesses
him.”

“Then, Fawner, you can remain here a few days longer.
Let me have the list of applicants again.” Fawner drew
forth a paper, which Mallex perused attentively, while the
old man's eyes seemed to glitter with confident anticipation.

“Have you seen all these men yourself?” asked the
secretary.

“Every one of them, sir; and with the exception of a
single man, they agree to the terms.”

“Did you explain the stipulation so there can be no
misunderstanding hereafter?”

“Oh yes, sir; ten per cent. of the salaries, payable on
the first of every month, and payable to me, to be used for
the benefit of the party, &c.”

“One half of the ten per cent., Fawner, is to be yours;
the remainder to be used as we may determine. And what
man was it objected to the terms?”

“Jerry Snyder, sir, of the Red Lobster.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he'd be — if he agreed to any such thing!”

“But did he not assign some reason?”

“Oh yes; he said you would not have been elected to
Congress but for his wife, and then you would not have
been taken into the cabinet. And he hinted something
about exposure—”

“Exposure! What does he know?”

“I think he has heard something about the duel.”

“The jackass!”

“He is no more than an ass. He desecrates the holy
sabbath by selling liquor on that blessed day. Let me
make bold, sir, to erase his name from the list.”

“He must have the appointment on his own terms!”

“Of course, sir; you have reasons for it, and it must
be done.”

“Now, Fawner, I know you can keep a secret—”

“I, sir?” I am old enough to know that no good can
result from betraying confidence.”

“To be sure you are. Well, I have determined, yes,
my mind is made up to—”

“You need not fear to trust me, sir!” said the old man,
evincing an unwonted interest.

“To marry.”

“Marry! Bless me, is that all? I feared you were
going to resign—they annoy you so much. Oh, yes; I
would marry, if I were in your place, sir. There ought to
be somebody to inherit your fortune, somebody—”

“Mrs. Lonsdale is the lady, Fawner. You saw how
attentive and condescending she was last night. I must
have my levees and soirees, my days of reception, and
sumptuous dinners.”

“But, sir, sir—I hope you will pardon the intimation,
sir—but she is already married.”

“She has been married twice, and is now a widow.”

“A widow? Forgive me, sir, but I certainly did hear
her say last night that she had just received letters from
her husband in Scotland, and that he was well.”

“Yes, I forwarded them to her. When they were
written, Lonsdale was well. But a few hours after he was
seized with an attack of the cholera and died before morning.
Here is the information from our consul at Glasgow.
It is official.” Saying this the secretary very deliberately
flung the note into the fire, where it was quickly consumed
before the eyes of the astonished Fawner. “It will be a
fortnight perhaps before his death will be made known by
the papers. I will not be the bearer of such tidings. In
the meantime, we must not neglect to say in the hearing
of Col. H., Mrs. Lonsdale's brother, that a package of
letters has been mislaid or destroyed. The Col. desires

my influence, to accomplish a certain matter, and the sister
is the instrument he employs. Fawner, she rejected my
suit once. This time I hope she will act differently! But
she can never charge me with having sent away Lonsdale,
that he might die of the cholera. I did not dream of such
a thing! He was interested in the business, desired the
mission, and actually consummated the end before his
death. The bonus we were jointly to receive from the iron
manufacturers abroad, will now be mine, and yours, and
Mrs. L. shall still enjoy some share of the treasure.”

“Thank you, sir! I did not know that any portion of
the proceeds would be mine.”

“You negotiated the business with Lonsdale, and stipulated
for the division of the proceeds between us. Of course
you were to receive, and will receive, the usual commission.
Courage, Fawner! Only be faithful to me, and prudent
always, and you will die a rich man. I'll make your fortune
for you!”

“Senator H—, sir,” said the messenger, opening the
door slightly, and projecting his face into the room.

“What shall I do, Fawner? He has written me a note
protesting against the removal of one of his friends.”

“I know it, sir. It is Mr. C. from his state. I pity
the poor man!”

“Pity! There is no such word in politics. This C—
is sick, very ill, as I learn, and very poor, with about a
dozen children.

“It is true, sir!” said Fawner, with whom there still
remained some little humanity, notwithstanding his irresistible
longings for wealth.

“True, is it? Then out he goes! Why, man, how
could he divide his salary with us? He did not vote with
us, nor did Senator H. vote for my confirmation. Spring,
say that I am particularly engaged just at this moment,
and if he can make it convenient to call at about this hour
to-morrow, I shall be much obliged. Say anything that is
polite—but don't admit him. To-morrow, you are to say
the President has just sent for the secretary.”

“Yes, sir,” responded the messenger, smiling.

“Sit still, Fawner,” continued Mallex, patronizingly.
“Don't be frightened at the name of a senator. No one
shall have admission until I am done with you.”

“Commodore S—, sir,” said Spring.

“Particularly engaged,” said Mallex, and instantly the
door was closed again.

“Govenor P—, sir,” said Spring, soon after, this time
entering the office and closing the door behind him.

“Engaged! Tell everybody I'm engaged,” said the
haughty secretary, decisively, “until you hear my bell.
Don't announce another name, or open the door again for
any living soul, until you have the signal from me.”

“I will remember, sir,” responded the disappearing
messenger.

“It would be quite as agreeable to me, sir,” said Fawner,
“to come in when no one else is seeking admission.”

“But not so agreeable to me. If I were to admit one
half the number seeking interviews, the whole of my time
would be consumed in that manner, and the important
duties of the office would be neglected. Sit down again, no
one shall interrupt us.”

“The President of the United States!” cried Spring,
throwing the door wide open. The execration which had
almost found utterance between the teeth of the irritated
secretary instantly gave way to a smile of pleasure; and
as he advanced towards the President, Fawner retreated
unobserved from the office.

“Mallex,” said the high functionary, declining the chair
tendered him, on the plea that he was merely passing, and
had no time to sit, “Some of our friends are becoming frightened
at what they suppose will be the effect of the passage
of the “Bomb Bill,” as our great measure is termed by the
opposition.

“Some of them, sir, are capable of being frightened at
shadows. I know the reason. If the measure should prove
to be a great and popular one, as I am convinced it will,
they can derive no personal benefit from it!”

“Do you think H. and W. and B. have any pretensions
themselves for the next term?”

“I know it! Sir, I have sufficient cause to be certain
that such is the case. And so do those men they recommended
for office, and whom you were pleased to appoint,
know it. I have ascertained that fact.”

“They shall have no more offices for their friends. You
are right, Mallex; I can confide in you. Have the measure
pushed to a vote, and mark those who hesitate. When that
is disposed of, we'll give them another, which they may
call a whole park of artillery, if they please.”

“You mean the complaint against —?”

“Yes. And there shall be explosive material in my
message. But I am too fast. I am not sure that you
agree with me. At the last sitting you did not express your
opinion.”

“I did not, indeed, sir. A war, sir, is always popular,
if we can only make it appear justifiable and reasonable in
the eyes of the people, and of the nations of the earth. I
say war is a popular measure. But then we know from
experience, that the authors of a war do not always reap
the benefits of it. On the contrary some lucky general,
perhaps of opposite politics, and perhaps originally adverse
to the war, is made the President.”

“That is true enough. The one who does the fighting,
and gains the victory, attracts the attention, and reaps
the applause of the people.”

“Another thing, sir. The very probability of a war
arrays all the wealthy men against the administration which
favours it. War is destructive of commerce, deranges investments,
prostrates the stocks—”

“Oh, I forgot you had something of that sort at stake.”

“As heaven is my witness, all the wealth I possess
should freely go to secure your re-election. Your re-election
is the sole purpose of my labours and my life. I
am resolved upon it; and I am convinced it can and will
be accomplished. But besides what I have named, war
invariably shocks the religious community. I profess to
be religious, and hope I am, in spite of the malicious slanders
of my enemies; and it is my serious, conscientious belief,
that the Great Being who created the world, and governs
all nations, frowns upon a people who go to war when such
a sanguinary alternative may be avoided with honour. Oh,
sir, rely upon it, you could never be happy in the presidential
mansion, with the thought that, possibly, the sacrifice
of many valuable lives might have been prevented!”

“You are honest, my friend. I applaud your candour,

and will confer with you again before sending in the message.”
The President then, affectionately taking the
hand of his humane coadjutor between both of his, thus
confirming the opinion he had expressed of his honesty,
turned away and continued his walk between the double
row of dependents who stood uncovered before him.

“Where are you, Fawner?” enquired Mallex, throwing
himself back in the great chair, and smiling triumphantly.

“Here, sir!” said the cringing pale old man, emerging
stealthily from an adjoining closet.

“Take your chair Fawner; we shall not be interrupted
again.”

At that moment Spring entered and approached on
tip-toe.

“Did I not say I was engaged?” exclaimed Mallex.

“Yes, sir; and the gentleman only gave me his card,
and told me to place it in your hand.” The messenger did
so, and then vanished.

“What! Is it possible? Ned Lorn! Fawner, here's
Ned Lorn seeking an interview.

“Hah! I suspect it's a hostile message. They are not
to be satisfied without blood. I hope, sir, you will pardon
me for suggesting that you are under no obligations to
stoop from your high position—”

“No fear of that, Fawner. He is beneath me, now. I
can only respond to the calls of my equals. But it may
be a business of quite a different nature from an affair of
honour. Here are Radley's letters, which I have neglected
to read for sometime past. Help me to peruse them,
Fawner. You know about as much in relation to the claims
of this impostor as Radley or anybody else.”

The two devoted several minutes to the perusal of the
letters, and were soon convinced that the object of Ned's
visit must be in relation to the estates of the deceased
brothers Parke. Mallex was much vexed, and manifested
the annoyance he felt by his hasty gestures and his half-uttered
curses.

“Pardon me, sir,” said Fawner, diffidently, “but it
seems to me that Mr. Spring might with propriety dismiss
this visitor without employing any of the polite excuses
you were pleased to dictate.”

Mallex sounded the silver bell which stood upon his
table, and Spring appeared.

“Spring, admit Ned Lorn,” said the secretary. Both
the messenger and the old clerk stared in astonishment.
And when Ned was admitted the great man arose and
tendered him his hand, which was merely touched by our
hero.

“Be seated, sir,” said Mallex. “You recognize my
friend, I see,” he continued, with a slight smile, observing
that Ned bowed slightly to Fawner. “He is familiar
with all my private and personal transactions, and you need
not hesitate to speak freely before him.”

“I care not who hears me,” said Ned, returning the
steady gaze of the great bad man, and with difficulty
restraining the rising indignation in his breast, as he surveyed
the features of the principal author of all his woes.
With the exception of the brief encounter on the field of
honour, Ned had not confronted the banker face to face,
nor heard his voice, since the night when he had been abducted
by him and conveyed to the horrible abode of
Cadaver. And although he was but a child then, and
many years had passed in the interval, the same features
and the same voice, without perceptible change, which had
subsequently been seen and heard in his dreams, now
filled his vision and saluted his ears. But the terrors so
often associated with the presence of the despoiler, had
vanished; and Ned felt that if he could only meet his foe
upon some truly honourable field of combat, there could
be no greater delight afforded him on earth, or greater
benefit bestowed upon mankind, than in vanquishing such
a monster. Yet he knew that such a thing was impracticable.

“I am here,” continued Ned, “by the advice of my
counsel. With a view of preventing expensive and protracted
proceedings in the courts, they have prepared
this brief syllabus of the points they are prepared to establish,
which they desire me to lay before you. They hope
you may find it prudent and convenient to admit, at the
beginning, what they shall be able to prove in the end.
If so, and if the required restitution be promptly made,
then our controversy with you ceases.”

Mallex did not mark his words, knowing what the
purport of them must be; but sate in deep abstraction,
with the syllabus in one hand and a letter from Radley
in the other, looking from one to the other alternately.
Then he cast them both upon the table and leaning back
in his great chair fixed his eyes upon the ceiling. There
was a change in his countenance. His features seemed to
be starting into something like the form of beauty, and
his eyes expressed a sparkling joy such as the observant
Fawner thought he had never known them to assume
before.

Ned patiently awaited the result of the apparent struggle
between right and wrong; but he was not to be kept long
in suspense. By a sort of spasmodic transition the brows
of the bad man became contracted, and his gaze was now
fixed upon the floor. Although the aim of the lawyer had
been well directed, it had failed to accomplish anything.
At first, overwhelmed with the consideration that such a
contest in the courts as that meditated by the powerful
advocates of the poor orphan, must necessarily subject him
to unmitigated troubles and perhaps to irrecoverable loss
of reputation, his first impulse, as has been foreseen, was
to yield everything, and thus at one blow to eliminate a
fruitful source of annoyance which had already given him
more vexation and his partner greater unhappiness than
all the other evils of life combined. But when his guardian
spirit suggested that the great functionary could easily
frown down any imputation upon his character; that he
claimed no kindred with the Parkes, and was not to be
morally or legally responsible for the absence of affection
on the part of Bainton for his nephew—if Ned were indeed
his nephew; that a judgment by default or confession,
would be followed by an exposure of many business transactions
which it would be painful to disclose; and that he
had already committed a horrible crime—perpetrated an
irremediable act—to secure the prize which his silly impulse
would have vainly relinquished; when these opposing
facts rose up in his mind, he was instantly “himself
again,” the same reckless and infamous Job Mallex of
former days.

“And Susan is your kinswoman?” said Mallex, now

assuming a disdainful smile. “We always supposed she
had some other object in view—”

“Sir!” said Ned, struggling to repress his angry emotions,
“I hope our conversation will be confined strictly
to the business before us. At any moment I would be
happy to defend the pure motives of that lady at the peril
of my life. I beg you will not allude to her again.”

“It is not necessary,” said Mallex, who perceived with
serious concern that imminent danger lurked in the unquailing
eye fixed upon him, and his manner became less
haughty. “It is not necessary, Mr. Lorn,” he continued.
“It is not, after all, a business in which I am particularly
concerned. My partner, alone, is interested; and
it is a most extraordinary thing that this document should
be sent to me at Washington, when the one who has the
exclusive possession of the assets of John Parke, and who
is alleged to be your maternal uncle, and which I neither
deny nor admit, is there upon the ground, and whose decision
in the premises it seems to me ought to be sufficient
for your purposes.”

“You cannot be ignorant that Mr. Eugene Bainton has
long since declined responding to any demands in reference
to the matter.”

“Well, as I am not interested myself, and really have
no authority to decide such claims as these, I hope,
Mr. Lorn, you will do me the justice to excuse me for not
taking any action in the premises.”

Ned arose, and with an imperturbable countenance was
about to withdraw in silence, when Mallex, with a show of
vivacious urbanity which he did not feel, a species of diplomacy
not unknown to cabinet ministers, begged him to
remain longer.

“One of your friends,” continued the secretary, when
Ned resumed his chair, “has made me the repository of
one of your secrets, which you need not fear I will divulge.
I have read your book with a great deal of pleasure.”

The manner of this communication, and the flattering
terms accompanying it, had not been anticipated by the
author. He had supposed the effect would be entirely different.
And so, being assailed in the most vulnerable
place, and with an instrument the most irresistible of all

others, the young man felt himself incapable of withholding
an expression of grateful acknowledgment.

“It is gratifying to me to hear one of your judgment
and discrimination pronounce a favourable opinion of my
book.”

“It is a fine production, sir; it furnishes upon every
page evidences of a superior education; proofs of a comprehensive
observation of the motives of various specimens
of humanity, and electric touches of genius—yes, genius,
sir!”

“Your opinion is flattering, very flattering indeed, sir;
and I thank you. I thank you, because I regard your declaration
as the candid avowal of an enemy.”

“It is not so, Mr. Lorn! Why should it be so? I will
acknowledge it was my belief that my partner was about
being annoyed by the presentation of a fabricated claim,
and, yielding to the natural impulse of the moment, I endeavoured
to relieve him of the embarrassment. Such is
the solution of all my motives and actions. But to return
to your book, which is decidedly the most interesting subject.
Having just finished perusing it myself, I have an
application for the loan of it from one—one you have some
knowledge of, but who it is you would not now be likely to
name.” Mallex paused—hesitated—smiled—during the
utterance of these words, as if a new series of ideas had
flashed upon his mind.

“No, I can have no conception—”

“It is a charming young lady—beautiful, intelligent—
and an heiress. Can you not guess?”

“No, sir. But I have fears she will not confirm your
good opinion of the book.”

“Never fear! But shall I loan it to her?”

“I have no option in the matter. You may do what
you will with your own property. Only, I would desire
that she may not have any intimation of—”

“Who the author is? She will surely be inquisitive on
that point! But I am bound in honour not to reveal it.
Where are you lodging?”

“At Brown's.”

“You shall see this young lady. You will find an invitation
at the bar of your hotel to Col. H.'s party to-night.

I will be there, and meet you at the door, and you shall
see me deliver the volume into her hands!”

They rose up simultaneously. The final words of the
patronizing secretary being the signal for the termination
of the interview; and the great man even condescended to
accompany the delighted author to the door, and really
overwhelmed him with polite parting adieus.

In the intoxication of the moment the object of Ned's
mission to Washington entirely faded from his mind; and
he became more than half convinced that Mallex, after
all, was not the bad man he had always supposed him
to be.

And Mallex, amused at the successful effort he had made
to conciliate the author by skilful appeals to his ruling passion,
meditated deeply the project he had conceived of
making Ned his friend. But it was his rule never to seek
the friendship of any one whom he could not use, and whose
talents could not be made subservient to his own selfish
projects. It was not difficult to perceive that the enthusiastic
young novelist, firmly endued with the correct principles
inculcated by the president and rector of the college
wherein he had graduated, and whose whole life, except in
moments of transporting passion, would unquestionably be
conformed to the perfect system of morals so diligently
imparted by his tutors, could never be converted into such
an instrument as would be likely to be serviceable in the accomplishment
of the bad man's iniquitous purposes. Ned
was, most fortunately, yet too young to feel the importance
of wealth, however acquired, in this wicked world. But if he
could not be used directly in the consummation of the great
demagogue's schemes of ambition, at least his enmity might
be appeased, and the danger of being made the mark for
his ready pen might be averted. Therefore, without absolutely
determining to modify his original intentions in regard
to the estates of the deceased Parkes, Mallex resolved, for
the time being, to cultivate the good opinion of the young
man, and to exhibit him to the guests of Col. H., in the
aspect of a friend. He had reasons to suppose that his
rejection by the widow Dimple proceeded partly from a belief
that he had been a paticipant in the wrongs alleged
to have been done this same individual; and inasmuch as

rumours of his complicity in that dark deed of spoliation
were still industriously whispered by his enemies, he
deemed it an important stroke of policy to be able to appear
in society attended by our hero, as if the most intimate
relations of friendship subsisted between them.
At all events, the obstacle which Mrs. Dimple could not
overcome, would be removed from the path of Mrs. Lonsdale.