A Song of a Single Note - Part 25
Library

Part 25

Your fault is my fault. We have both been trying to do the right thing in _our own way_. We have been patriots, as Nicodemus was a Christian--by night. That is wrong. We must do right first hand, not second hand. From this hour that kind of thing will be sinning with our eyes open; it will be looking G.o.d's Commandments in the face, and then breaking them. Do you understand, Agnes?"

Then he went away, and Agnes tried to turn to her household duties. She wondered if Maria would come and see her or if she ought to go to Maria, and while she was debating the question Neil called. He was much depressed. The good news about Harry only affected him through Agnes, and he was very anxious about his father, who was in a high fever and was constantly talking of his fine and his inability to pay it. "Maybe I'll hae to go to prison for the debt," was his constant cry, and Neil felt that his father's fine must be satisfied, no matter at what cost.

So it was a troubled little visit; the day before each was so uncertain, so full of probabilities which the slightest momentum might divert to either joy or sorrow. They could not feel that their congratulations were full ripe; something might yet happen to destroy their hopes.

Neil went first to his office. He found Mr. Curtis preparing for the court, and as yet unaware of the decision in Harry's case; "but it is a great piece of good luck for the young scamp," he said, when Neil told him, "for he's a spy, if ever there was one. I have no doubt he deserves death, fifty times over."

"I have no doubt there are fifty men in New York who deserve it more than he does--men of power and prominence."

"I would keep such observations to myself, Neil. Your father is far too outspoken and he is paying for it now."

"I hope my father will never be less outspoken."

"Well, as I say, he has to pay for his opinions. He has two hundred pounds to pay, but then he had his two hundred pounds worth of fault-finding."

"What do you mean, Curtis?"

"Don't you remember how imprudently he spoke about Mr. Hulen's imprisonment?"

"He said nothing but the truth. Mr. Hulens is the most loyal of gentlemen, but because he was not sufficiently polite to a town major, he was imprisoned with felons and vagabonds and afterward compelled to publicly apologize. It was an infamous wrong."

"Precisely what the Elder said. It has not been forgotten."

"There were the two De Lanceys----"

"Yes, to be sure! And why did he trouble himself about them? There are enough of De Lanceys to look after De Lanceys."

"The injustice of the affair was every man's business. These two De Lanceys were private gentlemen, who, because they had some words with a German cha.s.seur, were seized in their homes and tried by court-martial--though they had no connection whatever with the army: at the worst it was a simple a.s.sault, the most trifling offense the civil law notices, yet the De Lanceys were degraded and imprisoned for two months, and then compelled to beg this German mercenary's pardon before all the troops at Kingsbridge. Remember Mr. Hicks, turned out of his hotel by General Patterson at the request of that unmentionable creature Loring--because Loring wanted it for one of his parasites. Remember poor Amberman, the miller at Hempstead, who, because he asked Major Stockton for payment for the flour he had bought, was nearly flogged to death, and then run through with Major Crew's sword, and kicked out of the way--dead. Nothing was done to Stockton; I met him on the street an hour ago, still an officer in His Majesty's service. I could add one hundred examples to these--but what is the use? And why are we lawyers? There is no law. The will of any military officer is the law."

"Still we are lawyers, Neil; and special counselors to three of the commissaries."

"I shall not be counselor much longer. I am going to write my resignation now."

"Are you mad? These fees are about all the ready money we make."

"I should deserve to be called mad, or worse, if I continued to serve a government which had just fined me for not being careful of its interests."

"For Heaven's sake, don't throw hundreds a year away for a figment!"

"Honor is something more than a figment. But you had better go to court early this morning. When you come back, I want you to let me have two hundred pounds until I can sell some property."

Curtis burst into a loud laugh: "I could not let you have two hundred shillings," he said. "Good gracious, Neil, how can you suppose I have money to spare?"

"I know you have money, but if you are averse to lending it, that is a different thing. I thought you might have some memory of all I have done for you."

"I have. Of course I have. You have put thousands of pounds in my way; I don't deny or forget it, but I have a family----"

"I understand. I wish you would hasten about Bradley's case. His father will be expected to pay for their service."

"I suppose his case is settled. I am sorry he has got off--deuced sorry!

A saucy youth who looked defiance at his betters all the time."

"Were they his betters?"

"He ought to be hung!" And he went on talking rapidly about Bradley's deserts. Neil knew the bl.u.s.ter was affected in order to prevent recurrence to the subject of money, and with a heart hot and wounded he sat down to write his resignation of the offices which were his princ.i.p.al support. Curtis was disconcerted and uneasy, and his last words on leaving the office were an entreaty to Neil to do "nothing foolish and hasty." But the papers were written, and then he took himself to the proper departments.

He was woefully unhappy. His father's and mother's condition made his strong heart tremble, and though no one could have supposed from his appearance that he had a single care, the sudden falling away of his friends and acquaintances wounded him like a sword.

As he walked the streets, so gravely erect, so haughtily apart, he was made to feel, in many ways, that he had lost in public estimation. No one took the trouble to ask him a favor or stopped to seek his opinion, or told him bits of gossip about events transpiring. He was cla.s.sed with the Bradleys. The Misses Robertson pa.s.sed him with the most formal of recognitions; Miss Smith did not notice him at all, while Joris Van Emerslie, who had taken his advice the previous week about the sale of his business, crossed the street to avoid him.

Friends were not far behind enemies. As he stood a moment on the steps of the barracks commissary, Judge Lawson, an old man and an intimate acquaintance of the Semples, stopped and said, "Good-morning, Neil. I am glad to see you here. I heard Cornelius Bloch had asked for your position and was likely to get it."

"I did not resign my position, Judge, until five minutes ago. The commissioners have not yet received it."

"Very true, but every one knew you must resign--the servants of the King must be above suspicion, eh?"

"Suspicion, sir!"

"Now, now, Neil! You must keep your temper for younger men; I am too old to be bluffed."

Then Neil walked silently away, and the old friend of the family watched him with a queer mingling of pity and satisfaction. "Proud creatures, them Semples, old and young," he muttered; "but good, true hearts in them, I'm half sorry for Neil, he was always ready to do me a kindness; but a little pull-down won't hurt him, he carries his head too high for anything."

But high as Neil carried his head, his heart was in the depths. It seemed to him that all the fair, honorable life he had built was falling into ruin. He needed now both help and sympathy, and his friends looked coldly upon him, or took the same reproving tone as the self-righteous comforters of the man of Uz. Full of bitter thoughts he was walking down Queen Street, when he heard a soft, familiar voice, almost at his ear, say, "Mr. Semple! Honored sir, will you speak to me for a few minutes?"

He looked up quickly, and saw that he was close to the doorstep of Jacob Cohen, the Jewish dealer in fine furniture, china, jewelry, etc.

"Certainly, Mr. Cohen," he answered, as he stepped inside the gloomy warehouse, crowded with articles of great beauty and astonishing value.

"Will you sit here, if you please, sir," and Cohen drew a large stool forward for Neil; "I must not detain you, your time is worth much money, many people wish to buy it, but it is land I would buy, if you will sell it to me."

"Land, Mr. Cohen! Perhaps a house----"

"No, it is the land you own next to our synagogue. If you will remember, I had it in my heart to buy this plot of ground six years ago. I thought then we could build a larger temple, one more worthy for our worship; but we did not reach agreement at that time and then came the war. I offered you then, four hundred pounds for the land; to-day I make you the same offer if you will take it."

Neil's emotion was almost beyond his control. For a few minutes he could not answer the proposition, but Cohen had the patience of the Jew, and he divined the young man's agitation and mental tremor. Silent and motionless he waited for Neil's reply. It came strained and hesitating, as if speech was an effort.

"Mr. Cohen--I will sell you the land--yes, indeed! As you say, for four hundred pounds."

"To-morrow? Can the sale be completed to-morrow?"

"I will prepare the papers to-day."

"I am well pleased."

"Mr. Cohen, this is a great surprise--a good surprise--you do not understand how good. I believe it is something more than business you intend; it is sympathy, kindness, friendship."

"It is business, but it is kindness also, if you will accept it. Your house have ever done me good, and not evil. I and mine prayed for you--yes, the Jew knows the pang of injustice that must be borne without protest and without redress."

"You have done my family and myself an unspeakable kindness. I were the worst of ingrates not to acknowledge it," and Neil rose and offered his hand. And when Cohen took it, and held it for a few moments within his own, a marvellous change pa.s.sed over the old man. The timid att.i.tude, the almost servile respect, vanished; his face beamed with a lofty expression, his eyes met Neil's frankly; in the prosaic surroundings of the dark, crowded shop he looked, for a few moments, like an Eastern prince.

As they stood thus together, Neil longing to say something that should show his deep grat.i.tude and friendship, and forgetting that Israel in America at that day still preserved much of their Oriental seclusion in household matters, asked after his daughter, Mrs. Belasco. "I have not seen her since her marriage," he said; "but I can never forget her. It was her prompt.i.tude in the duel between Captain Hyde and myself that saved my life."