The Sword of Damocles: A Story of New York Life

by Anna Katharine Green

  XXXVII.

  THE OPINION OF A CERTAIN NOTED DETECTIVE.

  "But still there clung One hope, like a keen sword on starting threads uphung."

  --REVOLT OF ISLAM.

  "Facts are stubborn things."--ELLIOTT.

  Meanwhile Mr. Stuyvesant hasted on his way down town and ere long madehis appearance at the bank. He found Mr. Sylvester and Bertram seated inthe directors' room, with a portly smooth-faced man whose appearance wasat once strange and vaguely familiar.

  "A detective, sir," explained Mr. Sylvester rising with forcedcomposure; "a man upon whose judgment I have been told we may rely. Mr.Gryce, Mr. Stuyvesant."

  The latter gentleman nodded, cast a glance around the room, during whichhis eye rested for a moment on Bertram's somewhat pale countenance, andnervously took a seat.

  "A mysterious piece of business, this," came from the detective's lipsin an easy tone, calculated to relieve the tension of embarrassment intowhich the entrance of Mr. Stuyvesant seemed to have thrown all parties."What were the numbers of the bonds found missing, if you please?"

  Mr. Stuyvesant told him.

  "You are positively assured these bonds were all in the box when youlast locked it?"

  "I am."

  "When was that, sir? On what day and at what hour of the day, if youplease?"

  "Tuesday, at about three o'clock, I should say."

  "The box was locked by you? There is no doubt about that fact?"

  "None in the least."

  "Where were you standing at the time?"

  "In front of the vault door. I had taken out the box myself as I am inthe habit of doing, and had stepped there to put it back."

  "Was any one near you then?"

  "Yes. The cashier was at his desk and the teller had occasion to go tothe safe while I stood there. I do not remember seeing any one else inmy immediate vicinity."

  "Do you remember ever going to the vaults and not finding some one nearyou at the time or at least in full view of your movements?"

  "No."

  "I have informed Mr. Gryce," interposed Mr. Sylvester, with a ring inhis deep voice that made Mr. Stuyvesant start, "that our chief desire atpresent is to have his judgment upon the all important question, as towhether this theft was committed by a stranger, or one in the employ andconsequently in the confidence of the bank."

  Mr. Stuyvesant bowed, every wrinkle in his face manifesting itself withstartling distinctness as he slowly moved his eyes and fixed them on theinscrutable countenance of the detective.

  "You agree then with these gentlemen," continued the latter, who had away of seeming more interested in everything and everybody present thanthe person he was addressing, "that it would be difficult if notimpossible for any one unconnected with the bank, to approach the vaultsduring business hours and abstract anything from them withoutdetection?"

  "And do these gentleman both assert that?" queried Mr. Stuyvesant, witha sharp look from uncle to nephew.

  "I believe they do," replied the detective, as both the gentlemen bowed,Bertram with an uncontrollable quiver of his lip, and Mr. Sylvester witha deepening of the lines about his mouth, which may or may not have beennoticed by this man who appeared to observe nothing.

  "I should be loth to conclude that the robbery was committed by any onebut a stranger," remarked Mr. Stuyvesant; "but if these gentlemen concurin the statement you have just made, I am bound to acknowledge that I donot myself see how the theft could have been perpetrated by an outsider.Had the box itself been missing, it would be different. I remember myold friend Mr. A--, the president of the police department, telling meof a case where a box containing securities to the amount of two hundredthousand dollars, was abstracted in full daylight from the vaults of oneof our largest banks; an act requiring such daring, the directors for along time refused to believe it possible, until a detective one dayshowed them another box of theirs which he had succeeded in abstractingin the same way.[1] But the vaults in that instance were in a lessconspicuous portion of the bank than ours, besides to approach an openvault, snatch a box from it and escape, is a much simpler matter than toremain long enough to open a box and choose from its contents suchpapers as appeared most marketable. If a regular thief could do such athing, it does not seem probable that he would. Nevertheless the mostacute judgment is often at fault in these matters, and I do not pretendto have formed an opinion."

  [Footnote 1: A fact.]

  The detective who had listened to these words with marked attention,bowed his concurrence and asked if the bonds mentioned by Mr. Stuyvesantwere all that had been found missing from the bank. If any of the otherboxes had been opened, or if the contents of the safe itself had everbeen tampered with.

  "The contents of the safe are all correct," came in deep tones from Mr.Sylvester. "Mr. Folger, my nephew and myself went through them thismorning. As for the boxes I cannot say, many of them belong to personstravelling; some of them have been left here by trustees of estates,consequently often lie for weeks in the vaults untouched. If however anyof them have been opened, we ought to be able to see it. Would you likean examination made of their condition?"

  The detective nodded.

  Mr. Sylvester at once turned to Mr. Stuyvesant. "May I ask you tomention what officer of the bank you would like to have go to thevaults?"

  That gentleman started, looked uneasily about, but meeting Bertram'seye, nervously dropped his own and muttered the name of Folger.

  Mr. Sylvester suppressed a sigh, sent for the paying-teller, andinformed him of their wishes. He at once proceeded to the vaults. Whilehe was gone, Mr. Gryce took the opportunity to make the followingremark.

  "Gentlemen," said he, "let us understand ourselves. What you want of me,is to tell you whether this robbery has been committed by a stranger orby some one in your employ. Now to decide this question it is necessaryfor me to ask first, whether you have ever had reason to doubt thehonesty of any person connected with the bank?"

  "No," came from Mr. Sylvester with sharp and shrill distinctness. "SinceI have had the honor of conducting the affairs of this institution, Ihave made it my business to observe and note the bearing and characterof each and every man employed under me, and I believe them all to behonest."

  The glance of the detective while it did not perceptibly move from thelarge screen drawn across the room at the back of Mr. Sylvester, seemedto request the opinions of the other two gentlemen on this point.

  Bertram observing it, subdued the rapid beatings of his heart and spokewith like distinctness. "I have been in the bank the same length of timeas my uncle," said he, "and most heartily endorse his good opinion ofthe various persons in our employ."

  "And Mr. Stuyvesant?" the immovable glance seemed to say.

  "Men are honest in my opinion till they are proved otherwise," came inshort stern accents from the director's lips.

  The detective drew back in his chair as if he considered that pointdecided, and yet Bertram's eye which had clouded at Mr. Stuyvesant's tooabrupt assertion, did not clear again as might have been expected.

  "There is one more question I desire to settle," continued thedetective, "and that is, whether this robbery could have beenperpetrated after business hours, by some one in collusion with theperson who is here left in charge?"

  "No;" again came from Mr. Sylvester, with impartial justice. "Thewatchman--who by the way has been in the bank for twelve years--couldnot help a man to find entrance to the vaults. His simple duty is towatch over the bank and give alarm in case of fire or burglary. It wouldnecessitate a knowledge of the combination by which the vault doors areopened, to do what you suggest, and that is possessed by but threepersons in the bank."

  "And those are?"

  "The cashier, the janitor, and myself."

  He endeavored to speak calmly and without any betrayal of the effort itcaused him to utter those simple words, but a detective's ear is niceand it is doubtful if he perfectly succeeded.

  Mr. Gryce h
owever limited himself to a muttered, humph! and a long andthoughtful look at a spot on the green baize of the table before whichhe sat.

  "The janitor lives in the building, I suppose?"

  "Yes, and is, as I am sure Mr. Stuyvesant will second me in asserting,honesty to the back-bone."

  "Janitors always are," observed the detective; then shortly, "How longhas _he_ been with you?"

  "Three years."

  Another "humph!" and an increased interest in the ink spot.

  "That is not long, considering the responsibility of his position."

  "He was on the police force before he came to us," remarked Mr.Sylvester.

  Mr. Gryce looked as if that was not much of a recommendation.

  "As for the short time he has been with us," resumed the other, "he cameinto the bank the same winter as my nephew and myself, and has found thetime sufficient to earn the respect of all who know him."

  The detective bowed, seemingly awed by the dignity with which the laststatement had been uttered; but any one who knew him well, would haveperceived that the film of uncertainty which had hitherto dimmed thebrightness of his regard was gone, as if in the other's impressivemanner, if not in the suggestion his words had unconsciously offered,the detective had received an answer to some question which had beenpuzzling him, or laid his hand upon some clue which had till now eludedhis grasp. The inquiries which he made haste to pursue, betrayed,however, but little of the tendency of his thoughts.

  "The janitor, you say, knows the combination by which the vault doorsare opened?"

  "The _vault doors_," emphasized Mr. Sylvester. "The safe is anothermatter; that stands inside the vault and is locked by a triplecombination which as a whole is not known to any one man in thisbuilding, not even to myself."

  "But the boxes are not kept in the safe?"

  "No, they are piled up with the books in the vaults at the side of thesafe, as you can see for yourself, if you choose to join Mr. Folger."

  "Not necessary. The janitor, then, is the only man besides yourselves,who under any circumstances or for any reason, could get at those boxesafter business hours?"

  "He is."

  "One question more. Who is the man to attend to those boxes? I mean toask, which of the men in your employ is expected to procure a box out ofthe vaults when it is called for, and put it back in its place when itsowner is through with it?"

  "Hopgood usually does that business, the janitor of whom we have justbeen speaking. When he is upstairs or out of the way, any one else whomit may be convenient to call."

  "The janitor, then, has free access to the boxes at all times, night andday?"

  "In one sense, yes, in another, no. Should he unlock the vaults atnight, the watchman would report upon his proceedings."

  "But there must be time between the closing and opening of the bank,when the janitor is alone with the vaults?"

  "There is a space of two hours after seven in the morning, when he islikely to be the sole one in charge. The watchman goes home, and Hopgoodemploys himself in sweeping out the bank and preparing it for thebusiness of the day."

  "Are the watchman and the janitor on good terms with one another?"

  "Very, I believe."

  The detective looked thoughtful. "I should like to see this Hopgood,"said he.

  But just then the door opened and Mr. Folger came in, looking somewhatpale and disturbed. "We are in a difficulty," cried he, stepping up tothe table where they sat. "I have found two of the boxes unlocked; thatbelonging to Hicks, Saltzer and Co., and another with the name ofHarrington upon it. The former has been wrenched apart, the latteropened with some sort of instrument. Would you like to see them, sir?"This to Mr. Sylvester.

  With a start that gentleman rose, and as suddenly reseated himself."Yes," returned he, carefully avoiding his nephew's eye; "bring themin."

  "Hicks, Saltzer and Co., is a foreign house," remarked Mr. Stuyvesant tothe detective, "and do not send for their box once a fortnight, as Ihave heard Mr. Sylvester declare. Mr. Harrington is on an exploringexpedition and is at present in South America." Then in lower tones,whose sternness was not unmixed with gloom, "The thief seems to haveknown what boxes to go to."

  Bertram flushed and made some passing rejoinder; Mr. Sylvester and thedetective alone remained silent.

  The boxes being brought in, Mr. Gryce opened them without ceremony.Several papers met his eye in both, but as no one but the owners couldknow their rightful contents, it was of course impossible for him todetermine whether anything had been stolen from them or not.

  "Send for the New York agent of Hicks, Saltzer and Co.," came from Mr.Sylvester, in short, business-like command.

  Bertram at once rose. "I will see to it," said he. His agitation was toogreat for suppression, the expression of Mr. Stuyvesant's eye, that inits restlessness wandered in every direction but his own, troubled himbeyond endurance. With a hasty move he left the room. The cold eye ofthe detective followed him.

  "Looks bad," came in laconic tones from the paying teller.

  "I had hoped the affair begun and ended with my individual loss,"muttered Mr. Stuyvesant under his breath.

  The stately president and the inscrutable detective still maintainedtheir silence.

  Suddenly the latter moved. Turning towards Mr. Sylvester, he requestedhim to step with him to the window. "I want to have a look at yourseveral employees," whispered he, as they thus withdrew. "I want to seethem without being seen by them. If you can manage to have them come inhere one by one upon some pretext or other, I can so arrange that screenunder the mantel-piece, that it shall not only hide me, but give me avery good view of their faces in the mirror overhead."

  "There will be no difficulty about summoning the men," said Mr.Sylvester.

  "And you consent to the scheme?"

  "Certainly, if you think anything is to be gained by it."

  "I am sure that nothing will be lost. And sir, let the cashier bepresent if you please; and sir," squeezing his watch chain with acomplacent air, as the other dropped his eyes, "talk to them aboutanything that you please, only let it be of a nature that willnecessitate a sentence or more in reply. I judge a man as much by hisvoice as his expression."

  Mr. Sylvester bowed, and without losing his self-command, though theshort allusion to Bertram had greatly startled him, turned back to thetable where Mr. Folger was still standing in conversation with thedirector.

  "I will not detain you longer," said he to the paying teller. "Yourdiscretion will prevent you from speaking of this matter, I trust." Thenas the other bowed, added carelessly, "I have something to say toJessup; will you see that he steps here for a moment?"

  Mr. Folger again nodded and left the room. Instantly Mr. Gryce bustledforward, and pulling the screen into the position he thought bestcalculated to answer his requirements, slid rapidly behind it. Mr.Stuyvesant looked up in surprise.

  "I am going to interview the clerks for Mr. Gryce's benefit," exclaimedMr. Sylvester. "Will you in the meantime look over the morning paper?"

  "Thank you," returned the other, edging nervously to one side, "mynote-book will do just as well," and sitting down at the remote end ofthe table, he took out a book from his pocket, above which he bent withvery well simulated preoccupation. Mr. Sylvester called in Bertram andthen seated himself with a hopeless and unexpectant look, which he forthe moment forgot would be reflected in the mirror before him, and socarried to the eye of the watchful detective. In another instant Jessupentered.

  What was said in the short interview that followed, is unimportant. Mr.Jessup, the third teller, was one of those clear eyed, straightforwardappearing men whose countenance is its own guarantee. It was notnecessary to detain him or make him speak. The next man to come in wasWatson, and after he had gone, two or three of the clerks, and later thereceiving teller and one of the runners. All stopped long enough toinsure Mr. Gryce a good view of their faces, and from each and all didMr. Sylvester succeed in eliciting more or less conversation in responseto the quest
ions he chose to put.

  With the disappearance of the last mentioned individual, Mr. Grycepeeped from behind the screen. "A set of as honest-looking men as I wishto see!" uttered he with a frank cordiality that was scarcely reflectedin the anxious countenances about him. "No sly-boots among them; howabout the janitor, Hopgood?"

  "He shall be summoned at once, if you desire it," said Mr. Sylvester, "Ihave only delayed calling him that I might have leisure to interrogatehim with reference to his duties, and this very theft. That is if youjudge it advisable in me to tamper with the subject unassisted?"

  "Your nephew can help you if necessary," replied the imperturbabledetective. "I should like to hear what the man, Hopgood, has to say forhimself," and he glided back into his old position.

  But Mr. Sylvester had scarcely reached out his hand to ring the bell bywhich he usually summoned the janitor, when the agent of Hicks, Saltzer& Co. came in. It was an interruption that demanded instant attention.Saluting the gentleman with his usual proud reserve, he drew hisattention to the box lying upon the table.

  "This is yours, I believe, sir," said he. "It was found in our vaultsthis morning in the condition in which you now behold it, and we areanxious to know if its contents are all correct."

  "They have been handled," returned the agent, after a careful survey ofthe various papers that filled the box, "but nothing appears to bemissing."

  Three persons at least in that room breathed more easily.

  "But the truth is," the gentleman continued, with a half smile towardsthe silent President of the bank, "there was nothing in this box thatwould have been of much use to any other parties than ourselves. Ifthere had been a bond or so here, I doubt if we should have come off sofortunately, eh? The lock has evidently been wrenched open, and that iscertainly a pretty sure sign that something is not right hereabouts."

  "Something is decidedly wrong," came from Mr. Sylvester sternly; "butthrough whose fault we do not as yet know." And with a few wordsexpressive of his relief at finding the other had sustained no materialloss, he allowed the agent to depart.

  He had no sooner left the room than Mr. Stuyvesant rose. "Are you goingto question Hopgood now?" queried he, nervously pocketing his note-book.

  "Yes sir, if you have no objections."

  The director fidgeted with his chair and finally moved towards the door."I think you will get along better with him alone," said he. "He is aman who very easily gets embarrassed, and has a way of acting as if hewere afraid of me. I will just step outside while you talk to him."

  But Mr. Sylvester with a sudden dark flush on his brow, hastily stoppedhim. "I beg you will not," said he, with a quick realization of whatHopgood might be led to say in the forthcoming interview, if he were notrestrained by the presence of the director. "Hopgood is not so afraid ofyou that he will not answer every question that is put to him withstraightforward frankness." And he pushed up a chair, with a smile thatMr. Stuyvesant evidently found himself unable to resist. The screentrembled slightly, but none of them noticed it; Mr. Sylvester at oncerang for Hopgood.

  He came in panting with his hurried descent from the fifth story, hisface flushed and his eyes rolling, but without any of the secretperturbation Bertram had observed in them on a former occasion. "Hecannot help us," was the thought that darkened the young man's brow ashis eyes left the janitor, and faltering towards his uncle, fell uponthe table before him.

  Everything was reflected in the mirror.

  "Well, Hopgood, I have a few questions to put to you this morning," saidMr. Sylvester in a restrained, but not unkindly tone.

  The worthy man bowed, bestowed a salutatory roll of his eyes on Mr.Stuyvesant, and stood deferentially waiting.

  "No, he cannot help us," was again Bertram's thought, and again his eyesfaltered to his uncle's face, and again fell anxiously before him.

  "It has not been my habit to trouble you with inquiries about yourmanagement of matters under your charge," continued Mr. Sylvester,stopping till the janitor's wandering eyes settled upon his own. "Yourconduct has always been exemplary, and your attention to dutysatisfactory; but I would like to ask you to-day if you have observedanything amiss with the vaults of late? anything wrong about the boxeskept there? anything in short, that excited your suspicion or caused youto ask yourself if everything was as it should be?"

  The janitor's ruddy face grew pale, and his eye fell with startledinquiry on Mr. Harrington's box that still occupied the centre of thetable. "No, sir," he emphatically replied, "has anything--"

  But Mr. Sylvester did not wait to be questioned. "You have attended toyour duties as promptly and conscientiously as usual; you have allowedno one to go to the vaults day or night, who had no business there? Youhave not relaxed your accustomed vigilance, or left the bank alone atany time during the hours it is under your charge?"

  "No sir, not for a minute, sir; that is--" He stopped and his eyewandered towards Mr. Stuyvesant. "Never for a minute, sir," he went on,"without I knew some one was in the bank, who was capable of lookingafter it."

  "The watchman has been at his post every night up to the usual hour?"

  "Yes sir."

  "There has been no carelessness in closing the vault doors after thedeparture of the clerks?"

  "No sir."

  "And no trouble," he continued, with a shade more of dignity, possiblybecause Hopgood's tell-tale face was beginning to show signs of anxiousconfusion, "and no trouble in opening them at the proper time eachmorning?"

  "No sir."

  "One question more--"

  But here Bertram was called out, and in the momentary stir occasioned byhis departure, Hopgood allowed himself to glance at the box before himmore intently than he had hitherto presumed to do. He saw it wasunlocked, and his hands began to tremble. Mr. Sylvester's voice recalledhim to himself.

  "You are a faithful man," said that gentleman, continuing his speech ofa minute before, "and as such we are ready to acknowledge you; but themost conscientious amongst us are sometimes led into indiscretions. Nowhave you ever through carelessness or by means of any inadvertence,revealed to any one in or out of the bank, the particular combination bywhich the lock of the vault-door is at present opened?"

  "No sir, indeed no; I am much too anxious, and feel my ownresponsibility entirely too much, not to preserve so important a secretwith the utmost care and jealousy."

  Mr. Sylvester's voice, careful as he was to modulate it, showed a secretdiscouragement. "The vaults then as far as you know, are safe when oncethey are closed for the night?"

  "Yes sir." The janitor's face expressed a slight degree of wonder, buthis voice was emphatic.

  Mr. Sylvester's eye travelled in the direction of the screen. "Verywell," said he; and paused to reflect.

  In the interim the door opened for a second time. "A gentleman to seeMr. Stuyvesant," said a voice.

  With an air of relief the director hastily rose, and before Mr.Sylvester had realized his position, left the room and closed the doorbehind him. A knell seemed to ring its note in Mr. Sylvester's breast.The janitor, released as he supposed from all constraint, steppedhastily forward.

  "That box has been found unlocked," he cried with a wave of his handtowards the table; "some one has been to the vaults, and I--Oh, sir," hehurriedly exclaimed, disregarding in his agitation the stern andforbidding look which Mr. Sylvester in his secret despair had made hasteto assume, "you did not want me to say anything about the time you camedown so early in the morning, and I went out and left you alone in thebank, and you went to the vaults and opened Mr. Stuyvesant's box bymistake, with a tooth-pick as you remember?"

  The mirror that looked down upon that pair, showed one very white faceat that moment, but the screen that had trembled a moment before, stoodstrangely still in the silence.

  "No," came at length from Mr. Sylvester, with a composure thatastonished himself. "I was not questioning you about matters of a yearagone. But you might have told that incident if you pleased; it was veryeasily explainable."
/>   "Yes sir, I know, and I beg pardon for alluding to it, but I was sotaken aback, sir, by your questions; I wanted to tell the exact truth,and I did not want to say anything that would hurt you with Mr.Stuyvesant; that is if I could help it. I hope I did right, sir," heblundered on, conscious he was uttering words he might better have keptto himself, but too embarrassed to know how to emerge from thedifficulty into which his mingled zeal and anxiety had betrayed him. "Iwas never a good hand at answering questions, and if any thing reallyserious has happened, I shall wish you had taken me at my word anddismissed me immediately after that affair. Constantia Maria would havebeen a little worse off perhaps, but I should not be on hand to answerquestions, and--"

  "Hopgood!"

  The man started, eyed Mr. Sylvester's white but powerfully controlledcountenance, seemed struck with something he saw there, and was silent.

  "You make too much now, as you made too much then of a matter thathaving its sole ground in a mistake, is, as I say, easily explainable.This affair which has come up now, is not so clear. Three of the boxeshave been opened, and from one certain valuables have been taken. Canyou give me any information that will assist us in our search after theculprit?"

  "No sir." The tone was quite humble, Hopgood drew back unconsciouslytowards the door.

  "As for the mistake of a year ago to which you have seen proper toallude, I shall myself take pains to inform Mr. Stuyvesant of it, sinceit has made such an impression upon you that it trammels your honestyand makes you consider it at all necessary to be anxious about it atthis time."

  And Hopgood unused to sarcasm from those lips, drew himself together,and with one more agitated look at the box on the table, sidledawkwardly from the room. Mr. Sylvester at once advanced to the screenwhich he hastily pushed aside. "Well, sir," said he, meeting thedetective's wavering eye and forcing him to return his look, "you havenow seen the various employees of the bank and heard most of themconverse. Is there anything more you would like to inquire into beforegiving us the opinion I requested?"

  "No sir," said the detective, coming forward, but very slowly andsomewhat hesitatingly for him. "I think I am ready to say--"

  Here the door opened, and Mr. Stuyvesant returned. The detective drew abreath of relief and repeated his words with a business-like assurance."I think I am ready to say, that from the nature of the theft and themysterious manner in which it has been perpetrated, suspicionundoubtedly points to some one connected with the bank. That is all thatyou require of me to-day?" he added, with a bow of some formality in thedirection of Mr. Sylvester.

  "Yes," was the short reply. But in an instant a change passed over thestately form of the speaker. Advancing to Mr. Gryce, he confronted himwith a countenance almost majestic in its severity, and somewhatseverely remarked, "This is a serious charge to bring against men whosecountenances you yourself have denominated as honest. Are we to believeyou have fully considered the question, and realize the importance ofwhat you say?"

  "Mr. Sylvester," replied the detective, with great self-possession andsome dignity, "a man who is brought every day of his life into positionswhere the least turning of a hair will sink a man or save him, learns toweigh his words, before he speaks even in such informal inquiries asthese."

  Mr. Sylvester bowed and turned towards Mr. Stuyvesant. "Is there anyfurther action you would like to have taken in regard to this matterto-day?" he asked, without a tremble in his voice.

  With a glance at the half open box of the absent Mr. Harrington, theagitated director slowly shook his head. "We must have time to think,"said he.

  Mr. Gryce at once took up his hat. "If the charge implied in my opinionstrikes you, gentlemen, as serious, you must at least acknowledge thatyour own judgment does not greatly differ from mine, or why suchunnecessary agitation in regard to a loss so petty, by a gentleman worthas we are told his millions." And with this passing shot, to whichneither of his auditors responded, he made his final obeisance andcalmly left the room.

  Mr. Sylvester and Mr. Stuyvesant slowly confronted one another.

  "The man speaks the truth," said the former. "You at least suspect someone in the bank, Mr. Stuyvesant?"

  "I have no wish to," hastily returned the other, "but facts--"

  "Would facts of this nature have any weight with you against theunspotted character of a man never known by you to meditate, much lesscommit a dishonest action?"

  "No; yet facts are facts, and if it is proved that some one in ouremploy has perpetrated a theft, the mind will unconsciously ask who, andremain uneasy till it is satisfied."

  "And if it never is?"

  "It will always ask who, I suppose."

  Mr. Sylvester drew back. "The matter shall be pushed," said he; "youshall be satisfied. Surveillance over each man employed in thisinstitution ought sooner or later to elicit the truth. The police shalltake it in charge."

  Mr. Stuyvesant looked uneasy. "I suppose it is only justice," murmuredhe, "but it is a scandal I would have been glad to avoid."

  "And I, but circumstances admit of no other course. The innocent mustnot suffer for the guilty, even so far as an unfounded suspicion wouldlead."

  "No, no, of course not." And the director bustled about after hisovercoat and hat.

  Mr. Sylvester watched him with growing sadness. "Mr. Stuyvesant," saidhe, as the latter stood before him ready for the street, "we have alwaysbeen on terms of friendship, and nothing but the most pleasant relationshave ever existed between us. Will you pardon me if I ask you to give meyour hand in good-day?"

  The director paused, looked a trifle astonished, but held out his handnot only with cordiality but very evident affection.

  "Good day," cried he, "good-day."

  Mr. Sylvester pressed that hand, and then with a dignified bow, allowedthe director to depart. It was his last effort at composure. When thedoor closed, his head sank on his hands, and life with all its hopes andhonors, love and happiness, seemed to die within him.

  He was interrupted at length by Bertram. "Well, uncle?" asked the youngman with unrestrained emotion.

  "The theft has been committed by some one in this bank; so the detectivegives out, and so we are called upon to believe. _Who_ the man is whohas caused us all this misery, neither he, nor you, nor I, nor any one,is likely to very soon determine. Meantime--"

  "Well?" cried Bertram anxiously, after a moment of suspense.

  "Meantime, courage!" his uncle resumed with forced cheerfulness.

  But as he was leaving the bank he came up to Bertram, and laying hishand on his shoulder, quietly said:

  "I want you to go immediately to my house upon leaving here. I may notbe back till midnight, and Miss Fairchild may need the comfort of yourpresence. Will you do it, Bertram?"

  "Uncle! I--"

  "Hush! you will comfort me best by doing what I ask. May I rely uponyou?"

  "Always."

  "That is enough."

  And with just a final look, the two gentlemen parted, and the shadowwhich had rested all day upon the bank, deepened over Bertram's headlike a pall.

  It was not lifted by the sight of Hopgood stealing a few minutes latertowards the door by which his uncle had departed, his face pale, and hiseyes fixed in a stare, that bespoke some deep and moving determination.