"Well, now, if you should happen to see something agreeable in me, and should let me know about it, I shouldn't throw your Mr. Amden, or Amidon, at your head. Why not forget about the rest of the world for a while? We can be in only one place at a time, and so, really, our whole world just now has only us two. You oughtn't to repel the only person in the wide, wide world; you won't, will you?"

"Don't be foolish!"

"Don't be wasteful! This may be the only world of this kind we shall be allowed to have. Come over and sit by me and be nice to me, won't you?"

"I certainly shall do nothing of the kind!"

"No? Ah, how wasteful of opportunity! Well, then, I shall have to come to you!"

Oh, the depravity of society in these days, and oh, the unpleasantness of setting these things down! But, on the other hand, what a comfort it is to think that men as base as Bra.s.sfield are so rare that you and I, my boy, have probably never met a specimen. And if you ever find, my love, that any person in whom you have any tender interest has ever behaved in a way similar to the conduct of Bra.s.sfield, you should give the prisoner the benefit of every doubt, and accord full weight to the precedent contained in this history, and to the fact that it was Bra.s.sfield and not Amidon who did this. A man can not be blamed for lapsing into the Bra.s.sfield state. A man should be acquitted--eh?

Defending some one? Why, certainly not! And how long this paragraph is growing! Yes, I feel sure Clara Blatherwick repulsed these advances as she should, and that Bra.s.sfield, being fully under "control," did not--why, of course not, as you say!

But I am going no further with the matter now; except to say that in something like an hour Mr. Amidon departed much perturbed by the prospect of the nearness of his happiness, fully convinced of his unworthiness, and quakingly uncertain as to many things, but most of all, just then, as to his clothes!

"This man Bra.s.sfield," said he to himself, "seems to have been a good deal of a dude, and Elizabeth--the darling!--will expect me to be fully up to vogue in this regard--as she will be in all things. And I don't believe a thing has been done about clothes."

Meantime, Madame le Claire walked up and down in a locked chamber, struggling with her grief.

"Oh, it is hopeless, hopeless!" said the poor girl to herself, over and over again. "Florian, my darling Florian, whom I found blind and wandering in the wilderness, and took by the hand and guided to the light--Florian has gone from me! She has taken him, just as she took him before. But the man she thinks loves her--her Eugene--I'm sure he's coming to love me; and to be tired of her! And I could keep him Bra.s.sfield, if I chose--if I chose! I wonder--I wonder if it would be wrong? What would she do if she had my power? Twice I had to try, before I could restore him. I could! I could!"

Small wonder, therefore, that Madame le Claire sat wild-eyed and excited, and flew fearfully to Judge Blodgett and the professor, when Mr. Bra.s.sfield went free, with Alderson at heel. And all the time, as the crew of a ship carry on the routine of drill while the torpedo is speeding for her hull, these social amenities went on all unconscious of the explosion now imminent.

XV

THE TURPITUDE OF BRa.s.sFIELD

Man to black Misfortune beckons When upon himself he reckons, Marshals Faith among his a.s.sets, Blinks his nature's many facets.

This dull gem is an ascetic, Bloodless, pulseless, apathetic: Shift the light--a trifling matter-- Fra Anselmo turns a satyr!

--_The Kaleidoscope_.

Airily, Mr. Bra.s.sfield preceded his clerk down the stairway, and out into the street. There, something in the air--the balm of advancing spring; a faint chill, the Parthian shot of retreating winter; some psychic apprehension of the rising sap; the slight northing of the sun; or some subconscious clutch at knowledge of minute alterations in the landscape--apprised Mr. Bra.s.sfield's strangely circ.u.mscribed mind of the maladjustment with time resulting from the reign of Amidon. But however bewildered Florian's mentality might become at such things, it was different with Bra.s.sfield. The plane of consciousness in which he had so long moved, with a memory running back five years and there ending in a blank wall of nescience, had made him cunning and shifty--necessarily so. The struggle for existence had had its inevitable effect--the faculty paralyzed had been compensated for by the development of others. So he was not at all at a loss now, when this little hiatus in time struck on his mind in the form of a suspicion. He turned to Alderson with a smile.

"Do you remember what date this is, my boy?" he inquired.

Alderson named the date. Bra.s.sfield nodded, as if he were pleased to find Alderson correct in his exercises.

"Of course you know what we've arranged for to-day, don't you?" he went on.

"The deferred annual meeting of the Construction Company?" asked Alderson. "If that's it, it's all attended to. I took the proxies to Mr. Smith yesterday."

"Good!" was Bra.s.sfield's hearty response. "You'll do for an animated 'office tickler' if you continue to improve. You used to forget all these things."

They had now come to a certain turning, down which Bra.s.sfield gazed, to a place where the highway was torn up and excavated. A center line of bowed backs, fringed by flying dirt. Indicated that the work was still in progress.

"You may go on to the office," said Bra.s.sfield, "and I'll be up immediately. I'm going down to see Barney Conlon a moment."

He walked down among the men, nodding to the busy ones, and stopping for a handshake or a joke with others.

"h.e.l.lo, Barney," he shouted to the man who seemed to be in charge.

"How long are you going to keep people jumping sideways to prevent themselves from being buried alive? You old Fenian!"

Conlon looked at him for a moment with an air of distinct disfavor.

"Look out there!" he shouted to a teamster who was unloading pipe.

"D'ye want to kill the min in the trinch? Ah, is thot you, Mr.

Bra.s.sfield?"

"What's left of me," replied Bra.s.sfield, quickly aware of the coolness of the reception--the politician's sensitiveness to danger. "By the way, Conlon, can't you come up to the office soon? I've got some specifications I want you to see. Pipe-line. Can you do that sort of work?"

"Do it!" gushed Conlon, thawing. "Do it! Ah, Mr. Bra.s.sfield, d'ye ask me thot, whin ye mind 'twas me thot done the Rogers job!"

"Oh, yes, I remember now, you did have that," said Bra.s.sfield. "Well, that was fairly well done. Come up and figure with me, and I believe we can make a deal."

"Thank ye kindly, Mr. Bra.s.sfield," said Conlon, all his obsequiousness returning. "Thank ye! Annything new in politics, Mr. Bra.s.sfield?"

"I don't know a thing," said Bra.s.sfield. "I'm so busy with other things, you know----"

"It'll be a great honor," said Conlon, "or so I should take it, to be the mare of the city, an' the master of the fine new house an' all that'll be in it, all this same spring!"

"Yes, Conlon, yes--but as to the office--I don't know about that."

"They can't bate you," a.s.severated Conlon promptly.

"Oh, I don't know," demurred Bra.s.sfield. "You can't always tell."

"We're wid ye, to a man," a.s.serted Conlon unhesitatingly, growing warmer. "The common people are wid ye!"

"I'm glad to hear that," said Bra.s.sfield, "very glad. But business first; and this pipe-line is business. Of course, if the people demand it----"

"They will!"

"--why, I may---- I'll see, Conlon. Anyhow, I appreciate your friendship. Come up and see me."

And the candidate for mayor walked away, wondering how he could have offended Conlon, and rejoiced that he had "fixed" him in time.

"Where's the telegram?" he asked, as he entered his private office.

"Why, Stevens might have attended to this. Where's Mr. Stevens? Miss Strong, send Mr. Stevens in!"

"Mr. Stevens!" gasped Miss Strong. "Mr. Stevens--why----"

"Oh, I mean where does he live now? I heard he was moving. And by sending him in, I mean, if you happen to meet him," hastily amended Mr.

Bra.s.sfield, noting some error. "I want to see him. And show me his account, please; and kindly ring for a boy to take this message."

The books showed the discharge of Mr. Stevens, and the closing of his account. Bra.s.sfield frowned over it, but resumed his smile at Miss Strong's re-entrance.