XVIII
Meanwhile outside in the waiting-room, Lawrence Challoner walkeddismally to and fro. For, notwithstanding, that in the last hour a greatjoy had come to him, this room had awakened memories of that otheroccasion, when, likewise, waiting for Murgatroyd, his life had hung inthe balance. A wave of pity took possession of him--pity for himself forhis then mistaken views of life, pity for the little wife, who had stoodso nobly by him; and, suddenly, he quickened his steps, as if impatientfor the time to come when he could make amends for the great wrong hehad done her. In a measure, entering into his thoughts, though her ownwere somewhat complex, Shirley Bloodgood, from where she sat in a farcorner of the room, also waited nervously for the door to open. And itwas thus that Miriam Challoner came upon them, her eyes glistening, ahappy smile on her face.
"Laurie, Shirley," she stammered, "Mr. Murgatroyd says--no, come, he'lltell you himself." And taking their willing hands into hers, she ledthem back into the prosecutor's private office, from which they had beenso unceremoniously evicted a little while before.
Miriam Challoner's intimation that good news would be forthcoming wasindeed rather vague; nevertheless, unconsciously, both were affected byher mood, and came into the room, smiling. Perhaps it affectedMurgatroyd, too, for it was with his most genial manner that thehitherto imperturbable prosecutor, from where he sat on the edge of thetable, his arms folded, singled out Shirley, and said:--
"Ready for the lynching, Miss Bloodgood?"
A look of surprise crossed Shirley's features, but she scorned toanswer.
Murgatroyd was now standing, his back still to the table.
"Would you mind locking that door," he called to Challoner; and turningto the ladies: "Mrs. Challoner, take that chair, please," pointing toone nearest to him, "and, Miss Bloodgood, that," indicating one next toMiriam's.
Meantime, Challoner had returned, and was waiting, hesitatingly, nearthe door.
"Aren't you going to join the family circle, Laurie?" the prosecutorsaid lightly.
Challoner then came forward, and placed his chair between the two women.
Murgatroyd's manner suddenly became chilly, stern, in short, once morehe was the prosecutor of the pleas. Addressing Challoner, whom he lookedwell in the eye, he began:--
"Mrs. Challoner has asked me to go on a hundred thousand dollarconstruction-bond for you; also, to loan you considerable money."
There was a dramatic pause. And except for a questioning glance fromChalloner and Shirley, which found a ready answer in the eyes of Miriam,his listeners did not move nor speak.
"There it is," announced Murgatroyd, in the same business-like tone; andstepping aside from the table, revealed two old, battered, dust-covered,sheet-iron boxes.
"Those boxes!" exclaimed Mrs. Challoner, who was visibly excited. "Whatis in them?" she asked in bewilderment.
"I don't know," returned Murgatroyd calmly.
There was no question in the minds of the prosecutor's visitors but thatthese boxes were the same that Miriam had brought to him so long ago,filled with negotiable securities, to the extent,--as Miriam was notlikely to forget,--of eight hundred and sixty thousand dollars; but, asto their present contents, all, naturally, were at a loss to conjecture.So, no one spoke, but continued to wait expectantly for Murgatroyd tomake the next move. Apparently, however, that was far from hisintention, and after a moment Shirley broke out with:--
"Do you mean to say that you don't know what is in them?"
"Miss Bloodgood, there's only one person in this room who knows that,"he replied quietly. Then turning to Mrs. Challoner, he went on in thesame tone:--
"Do you see these seals?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Unbroken, are they not?"
"Yes," again she assented faintly.
"Well, then, you know what is inside of them; I do not."
"I?--" faltered Miriam. "Why----"
Then followed a moment of racking suspense for all, except, perhaps,Murgatroyd.
"Mrs. Challoner," he resumed, "you told me once that there were eighthundred and sixty thousand dollars in negotiable securities in theseboxes. If what you then said was true, there they are, coupons and all."
"But, Mr. Murgatroyd," protested Mrs. Challoner, "you said that you didnot have any money...."
Murgatroyd smiled.
"I spoke the truth. But you...." And now, to Challoner's great surprise,Murgatroyd fixed his eyes on him, and said in a voice that impressedthem all the more, inasmuch as it was filled with a kindly confidencerather than with distrust:--
"There's eight hundred and sixty thousand dollars in those boxes,Challoner, belonging to your wife. Can you stand having it back again?"
Challoner looked puzzled; for as Miriam had told Shirley, he had had noreason to believe that his wife's fortune had not all been spent bythem. Slowly he began to understand, but he was too overcome to speak.Presently he found his voice and said:--
"Can I stand----"
"Yes," interrupted Murgatroyd, "you know what money did for youbefore--what it led to--" He broke off abruptly, and turning to Shirleyhe added: "I told you once, Miss Bloodgood, that there was but one wayto cure a bad millionaire, but one way to reform him, and that was totake away his millions. Well, I took away his!"
All eyes now rested on Challoner, who, oblivious to his surroundings,seemed lost in thought,--and who can tell what dreams may come to onesuddenly lifted from the depths of poverty back again to affluence. Butin any event, looking the prosecutor straight in the face he said in aneasy, determined voice:--
"Billy Murgatroyd, a little while ago you asked whether I could standhaving all this again; the past five years of my life is my answer tothat."
This reply brought to his wife's face a look of pride, and unconsciouslyshe straightened up in her chair; while Shirley sighed perceptibly.
"Laurie," went on Murgatroyd, still probing, but not unkindly, "what areyou going to do with all this money?"
"You'll have to ask Miriam about that," he returned quickly; and thenwith a charming smile, he added: "I have learned that a man's mission isto make money, and a woman's...."
Suddenly, Challoner grew thoughtful again.
"To think of the time," he said, half-aloud, "that it took Miriam and meto save five hundred dollars!"
"That five hundred that you saved," commented Murgatroyd solemnly, "isworth more to you than all this eight hundred and sixty thousand."
"There's no mistake about that either, Murgatroyd," spoke up Challonerpromptly; but bending over his wife, he added with a fascinatingsmile:--
"Miriam, you're going to let me build that hospital, aren't you?"
Simultaneously with Miriam's monosyllabic answer, Murgatroyd glanced atChalloner sharply, not forgetting, quite naturally, how easy in the pastit had been for the husband to get whatever he wanted from his wife; hisdoubts, however, were only momentary, for presently he pushed the boxestoward them, saying:--
"There it is--it all belongs to you."
But in all this Shirley had been strangely silent.
"Mr. Murgatroyd," she now said icily, "do you mean to tell us that youronly motive in taking this money was to save Mr. Challoner?"
Murgatroyd took a few steps toward her and regarded her coolly.
"No--and you alone were right. I was bribed--I was corrupt--I was athief."
"No, no," cried out Shirley, relenting.
"Yes," he went on mercilessly, "it is true. It was my ambition that didit. Besides, I was tempted by a woman----"
"A woman----" faltered the girl.
"Like Adam, I'm blaming it on Eve. This woman wanted me to be, well,really great----"
"You----"
"Yes," he persisted, "I was bribed. I took the money. Oh, you don't knowabout me! You don't know what I was five years ago! It seemed to me thenthat money was the only thing that could make me really great. I kneltat the shrine of money--loved it as a dipsomaniac loves his bottle."
He paused; then he continued in a l
ow voice:--
"Yes, I took money to acquit Challoner, and then I convicted him. Why?Because the instinct within me to do my duty was too strong to allow meto do otherwise. All the evidence was against him; he had confessed; Ihad to convict him."
"And the money--" ventured Shirley.
"Like a dipsomaniac,--a reformed dipsomaniac,--I put that money as hemight have his bottle, on the shelf--corked. There it was--I could haveit any time I wanted it." His face became more serious as he proceeded:"Then I kept on being a thief, for there was a new and overpoweringmotive that got the best of me. Like the reformed dipsomaniac I wasdetermined to see what I could do without it. It became a passion withme. I knew that every move I made meant the expenditure of money. Ahundred times, yes, a thousand times I have had my fingers on thoseseals about to break them, and then have crawled away--once more to dowithout the money. Somehow, I knew, that my time must come. Besides,there was that overwhelming ambition,--prompted by a woman."
Shirley hung her head.
"Yes," he went on fiercely, "a woman who must have her due; it was up tome to be something more than merely honest. Anybody could be honest, shetold me, but not everybody could be great!"
Shirley ventured to look up at him, but meeting his gaze fixed on herface, she shifted her eyes instantly.
"Then there was the United States senatorship,--the fairest office inthe State,--which I knew I could buy with the money for which I had soldmy soul. Again and again I came into this office and went to that vaultthere, determined to break the seals of the covers on those boxes--tobuy the United States senatorship. But I could not bring myself to doit. Something always said to me: 'YOU MUST DO WITHOUT IT! YOU MUST BEHONEST! YOU MUST MAKE A CLEAN FIGHT!' Yet, still, I was a thief: holdingthousands that didn't belong to me. But always upon me was thatall-absorbing passion,--a passion, not to use, but to do without thething which was at my finger's ends,--an incentive without which I couldnot succeed. And so," he concluded, "I went in and won without it."
A tense silence followed the prosecutor's amazingly frank revelation ofhis temptation and the success which he extorted from it. Unconsciously,he assumed an attitude which it would not be unfair to describe as adefensive one, in readiness, as it were, for any possible strictures onhis conduct. Nothing of the sort, however, was forthcoming. On thecontrary, at least, as far as Mrs. Challoner was concerned, at no time,not even when his self-arraignment had been the most severe, had histerrible words succeeded in driving the happy light from her eyes. Therewere moments, it is true, when a dull pallour had spread over herfeatures, a pallour, however, caused solely by sudden stings ofagonising memories, and those soft brown eyes had been raised to hisquestioningly; but his personality had ever been more or less bafflingand mysterious to her; and so, whether semi-fascinated or not, they lefthim thoroughly satisfied with their scrutiny.
Probably better than any one present, Challoner realised to the fullwhat Murgatroyd had suffered. Manlike, however, he was more than willingto permit the great work that Murgatroyd had done to overshadowcompletely his questionable proceedings. Of course, Challoner was quitewell aware that the prosecutor's actions viewed in the light of asuccessful campaign wore an entirely different aspect than they wouldhad he failed to obtain the senatorship. In the latter case it wasinevitable, no matter what moral satisfaction he could derive from thereturn of the money,--and in fairness to Challoner be it said that henever once questioned it,--that in addition to the humiliation of aruined career, the prosecutor would have to endure the mortification ofknowing that his loss of self-respect was wholly futile. But in anyevent, Challoner was too generous not to accept without reservationMurgatroyd's contention that, at least in part, he was actuated by apraiseworthy desire to save his wife and him from the results of hisdissipations. To a man, such as Challoner now was, it can easily beimagined, therefore, that he would regard that alone as sufficientreason to overlook everything else, and so rising, he grabbedimpulsively Murgatroyd's hand, saying:--
"Not another word, old man! It's all right!"
Murgatroyd was visibly affected.
"Thank you," he said simply; and then added: "Only one thing moreremains to be done. Mrs. Challoner, I must ask you to break theseseals."
Miriam demurred.
"Oh, no, Mr. Murgatroyd!" she said. "Surely you must know that I believeyou!"
But Murgatroyd insisted; and obeying him finally, Miriam broke theseals, and presently she showed to them the securities, undisturbed,just as Murgatroyd had taken them, dollar for dollar, bond and bond.
Suddenly Murgatroyd felt a touch on the arm.
"And I believe you, Billy," said Shirley contritely.
An enigmatical smile passed across the prosecutor's face.
"Do you, indeed?" he said dryly; and added: "That's, perhaps, more thanI had any right to expect."
A slight pucker showed on Miss Bloodgood's beautiful brow, but shereplied, quite unruffled:--
"Why, of course, I do. After all, you were honest, weren't you?" And notwaiting for his answer, added ingenuously: "You were not a thief!"
Instantly the expression on Murgatroyd's face became a very serious one.
"Yes, I was," he protested, "I was a thief." And with that he turned toChalloner and said in a voice of great feeling: "Challoner, this moneyis your wife's. Take it. And great God, man," he groaned, "don't, don'tforget what it did to you--what it made you, years ago."
Mrs. Challoner shivered at the prosecutor's earnestness; but Challoner,hesitating for a moment only, advanced and said:--
"We'll take it. I'm not a bit afraid now, Murgatroyd--for I _know_." Andthen holding out his hand, he continued kindly: "Billy, if you hadn'ttaken it--where would I have been to-day?"
"Free--free as you are now," said the other man in a low, strained tone.
"Yes," assented Challoner, "out of prison, but----"
Mrs. Challoner quickly rose and put an end to the conversation going onbetween the men.
"Come, Laurie," she said abruptly; and holding out her hand, "good-bye,Mr. Murgatroyd! I'm afraid we have taken up altogether too much of yourtime."
Murgatroyd shook hands with the Challoners; but on Shirley making heradieus, he said:--
"May I have a moment with you, Miss Bloodgood? Won't you wait, please?"
Mrs. Challoner answered for the girl:--
"Shirley, don't be in any hurry. Laurie and I will wait for you in theante-room--" And as they passed out Challoner called: "Wait until yousee that concrete hospital, Murgatroyd!"
For moments that seemed hours Shirley and Murgatroyd stood facing eachother, neither having the courage to speak, the girl filled with shameat the great wrong she had done to the man she loved; while he, feelingas if the burden that had rested upon his soul had at last rolled away,was drawing deep breaths--breathing like a man who has suddenly come outof darkness into the daylight. Shirley was the first to break thesilence; and now looking up at Murgatroyd, with a little shake of thehead she asked:--
"Billy, do you care to know what I think of you?"
"Perhaps, if I had cared less, I----"
But not for a moment would Shirley listen now to his censuring himselffurther, and quickly she cut him off.
"I think it was a far finer thing to take the money and not touch it,"she declared with true feminine logic, "than never to have taken it atall."
"But what if this habit should grow upon me," he retorted smilingly."Evidently Miss Bloodgood doesn't know what graft awaits me inWashington?"
Shirley laughed softly.
"To think that you accomplished all this without money," she saidhappily.
"But the worst is yet to come," he observed quickly. "It means that onehas to keep up the social game, the club game, the political game, andthe Lord knows what other games on five thousand--or is it nowseventy-five hundred a year? It means that an unmarried man must starve;and Heaven help the married senator! For he and his family must live ona back street in the capital and freeze. That's what it means to ase
nator who lives on his salary."
"But doesn't poverty always travel hand in hand with greatness," sheremarked enthusiastically, and with superb disdain for anything that shemay have said heretofore to the contrary.
Murgatroyd looked at her with admiration. Never before had her eyesseemed to him so blue and so lovely.
"There's one thing--one thing that I didn't tell Challoner and hiswife," he said, lowering his voice almost to a whisper. "Can you guesswhat that something was that always made me keep my hands off those ironboxes?"
Shirley lifted her eyes to his in quick understanding.
"It was my love for the woman who wanted me to be great," he went on ina voice so shaken with emotion, that she scarcely recognised it asbelonging to him. "That was the motive that beat down all others."
"And will you forgive the foolish lips that told you to go wrong?"
For answer he held out his arms to her and she came to them. Then hestooped down, and catching her face between his hands, raised it slowly,and kissed the lips tenderly, murmuring lovingly:--
"Her soul would not let me go wrong."
After a moment Shirley slowly drew herself out of his arms and placing ahand on each of his shoulders, asked laughingly, looking deep into hiseyes:--
"And we'll go to Washington?"
"Yes, dear," he smiled back. "We're going to Washington--to freeze andstarve together on that back street--Yes, my revenge is now complete."
Before he could kiss her a second time, Shirley darted to the door,opened it and called:--
"Miriam, Laurie, come here--come back!"
One look at the face of the girl that she had left in the office wassufficient to tell Miriam that she had great news to communicate.Nevertheless, she asked innocently:--
"What for, my dear? Are you going to lynch him?"
Blushing furiously, Shirley waved her hand at the boxes on the table andsaid:--
"Billy says that you've gone off and forgotten all your money!"
THE END
The Red Mouse: A Mystery Romance Page 18
