XLVI.
THE MAN CUMMINS.
Oh day and night, but this is wondrous strange."--HENRY V.
"Shut up in measureless content."--OTHELLO.
The lights were yet shining in Mr. Stuyvesant's parlors, though theguests were gone, who but a short time before had assembled there towitness the marriage of Cicely's dear friend, Paula.
At one end of the room stood Mr. Sylvester and Bertram, the formergazing with the eyes of a bridegroom, at the delicate white-clad figureof Paula, just leaving the apartment with Cicely.
"I have but one cause for regret," said Mr. Sylvester as the doorclosed. "I could have wished that you and Cicely had participated in ourjoy and received the minister's benediction at the same moment asourselves."
"Yes," said Bertram with a short sigh. "But it will come in time. Itcannot be but that our efforts must finally succeed. I have just had anew idea; that of putting the watchman on the hunt for Hopgood. They areold friends, and he ought to know all the other's haunts and possiblehiding-places."
"If Fanning could have helped us, he would have told us long ago. Heknows that Hopgood is missing and that we are ready to pay well for anyinformation concerning him."
"But they are old cronies, and possibly Fanning is keeping quiet out ofconsideration for his friend."
"No; I have had a talk with Fanning, and there was no mistaking his lookof surprise when told the other had run away under suspicion of beingconnected with a robbery on the bank's effects. He knows no more ofHopgood than we do, or his wife does, or the police even. It is astrange mystery, and one to which I fear we shall never obtain the key.But don't let me discourage you; after a suitable time Mr. Stuyvesantwill--"
He paused, for that gentleman was approaching him.
"There is a man outside who insists upon seeing me; says he knows therehas just been a wedding here, but that the matter he has to communicateis very important, and won't bear putting off. The name on his card isCummins; I am afraid I shall have to admit him, that is, if you have noobjection?"
Mr. Sylvester and Bertram at once drew back with ready acquiescence.They had scarcely taken their stand at the other end of the apartment,when the man came in. He was of robust build, round, precise andbusiness-like. He had taken off his hat, but still wore his overcoat;his face in spite of a profusion of red whiskers and a decided pair ofgoggles, was earnest and straightforward. He walked at once up to Mr.Stuyvesant.
"Your pardon," said he, in a quick tone. "But I hear you have beensomewhat exercised of late over the disappearance of certain bonds fromone of the boxes in the Madison Bank. I am a detective, and in thecourse of my duty have come upon a few facts that may help to explainmatters."
Mr. Sylvester and Bertram at once started forward; this was a topic thatdemanded their attention as well as that of the master of the house.
The man cast them a quick look from behind his goggles, and seeming torecognize them, included them in his next question.
"What do you think of the watchman, Fanning?"
"Think? we don't think," uttered Mr. Stuyvesant sharply. "He has been inthe employ of the bank for twelve years, and we know him to be honest."
"Yet he is the man who stole your bonds."
"Impossible!"
"The very man."
Mr. Sylvester stepped up to him. "Who are you, and how do you knowthis?"
"I have said my name is Cummins, and I know this, because I have wormedmyself into the man's confidence and have got the bonds, together withhis confession, here in my pocket." And he drew out the long lost bonds,which he handed to their owner, with a bit of paper on which wasin-scribed in the handwriting of the watchman, an acknowledgment to theeffect that he, alone and unassisted, had perpetrated the robbery whichhad raised such scandal in the bank and led to the disappearance ofHopgood.
"And the man himself?" cried Bertram, when they had all read this."Where is he?"
"Oh, I allowed him to escape."
Mr. Sylvester frowned.
"There is something about this I don't understand," said he. "How cameyou to take such an interest in this matter; and why did you let the manescape after acknowledging his crime?"
With a quick, not undignified action, Cummins stepped back. "Gentlemen,"said he, "it is allowable in a detective in the course of his duty, toresort to means for eliciting the truth, that in any other cause and forany other purpose, would be denominated as unmanly, if not mean andcontemptible. When I heard of this robbery, as I did the day after itsperpetration, my mind flew immediately to the watchman as the possibleculprit. I did not know that he had done the deed, and I did not see howhe could have possessed the means of doing it, but I had been acquaintedwith him for some time, and certain expressions which I had overheardhim use--expressions that had passed over me lightly at the time, nowrecurred to my mind with startling distinctness. 'If a man knew thecombination of the vault door, how easily he could make himself richfrom the contents of those boxes!' was one, I remember; and another, 'Ihave worked in the bank for twelve years and have not so much money laidup against a rainy day, as would furnish Mr. Sylvester in cigars for amonth.' The fact that he had no opportunity to learn the combination,was the only stumbling-block in the way of my conclusions. But thatobstacle was soon removed. In a talk with the janitor's wife--a goodwoman, sirs, but a trifle conceited--I learned that he had once had thevery opportunity of which I speak, provided he was smart enough torecognize the fact. The way it came about was this. Hopgood, who alwaysmeant to do about the right thing, as I know, was one morning very sick,so sick that when the time came for him to go down and open the vaultsfor the day, he couldn't stir from his bed, or at least thought hecouldn't. Twice had the watchman rung for him, and twice had he tried toget up, only to fall back again on his pillow. At last the call becameimperative; the clerks would soon be in, and the books were not even inreadiness for them. Calling his wife to him, he asked if she thought shecould open the vault door provided she knew the combination. Shereturned a quite eager, 'yes,' being a naturally vain woman and moreovera little sore over the fact that her husband never entrusted her withany of his secrets. 'Then,' said he, 'listen to those three numbers thatI give you; and turn the knob accordingly,' explaining the matter in away best calculated to enlighten her as to what she had to do. Sheprofessed herself as understanding perfectly and went off in quite anutter of satisfaction to accomplish her task. But though he did notknow it at the time, it seems that her heart failed her when she gotinto the hall, and struck with fear lest she should forget the numbersbefore she got to the foot of the stairs, she came back, and carefullywrote them down on a piece of paper, armed with which she started forthe second time to fulfil her task. The watchman was in the bank whenshe entered, and to his expressions of surprise, she answered that herhusband was ill and that she was going to open the vaults. He offered tohelp her, but she stared at him with astonishment, and waiting till hehad walked to the other end of the bank, proceeded to the vault door,and after carefully consulting the paper in her hand, was about to turnthe knob as directed, when Hopgood himself came into the room. He wastoo anxious, he said, to keep in bed, and though he trembled at everystep, came forward and accomplished the task himself. He did not see thepaper in his wife's hand, nor notice her when she tore it up and threwthe pieces in the waste-basket near-by, but the watchman may haveobserved her, and as it afterwards proved, did; and thus becameacquainted with the combination that unlocked the outer vault doors."
"Humph!" broke in Mr. Sylvester, "if this is true, why didn't Hopgoodinform me of the matter when I questioned him so closely?"
"Because he had forgotten the circumstance. He was in a fever at thetime, and having eventually unlocked the vault himself, lost sight ofthe fact that he had previously sent his wife to do it. He went back tohis bed after the clerks came in, and did not get up again till night.He may have thought the whole occurrence part of the delirium which morethan once assailed him that day."
"I remember his being sick,"
said Bertram; "it was two or three daysbefore the robbery."
"The very day before," corrected the man; "but let me tell my story inmy own way. Having learned from Mrs. Hopgood of this opportunity whichhad been given to Fanning, I made up my mind to sift the matter. Beingas I have said a friend of his, I didn't, want to peach on him unless hewas guilty. To blast an honest man's reputation, is, I think, one of themeanest tricks of which a fellow can be guilty: but the truth I had toknow, and in order to learn it, a deep and delicate game was necessary.Gentlemen, when the police have strong suspicions against a person whosereputation is above reproach and whose conduct affords no opportunityfor impeachment, they set a springe for him. One of their numberdisguises himself, and making the acquaintance of this person,insinuates himself by slow degrees--often at the cost of months ofeffort--into his friendship and if possible into his confidence. 'Tis adetestable piece of business, but it is all that will serve in somecases, and has at least the merit of being as dangerous as it isdetestable. This plan, I undertook with Fanning. Changing my appearanceto suit the necessities of the case, I took board in the small house inBrooklyn where he puts up, and being well acquainted with his tastes,knew how to adapt myself to his liking. He was a busy man, and beingobliged by his duties to turn night into day, had not much time tobestow upon me or any one else; but heedful of this, I managed to makethe most of the spare moments that saw us together, and ere long we werevery good comrades, and further on, very good friends. The day when Ifirst ventured to suggest that honesty was all very well as long as itpaid, was a memorable one to me. In that cast of the die I was either towin or lose the game I had undertaken. I won. After a feint or two, tosee if I were in earnest, he fell into the net, and though he did notcommit himself then, it was not long before he came to me, anddeliberately requested my assistance in disposing of some bonds which hewas smart enough to acquire, but not daring enough to attempt to sell.Of course the whole story came out, and I was sympathetic enough till Igot the bonds into my hands, then--But I leave you to imagine whatfollowed. Enough that I wrung this confession from him, and that inconsideration of the doubtful game I had played upon him, let him gowhere he is by this time beyond the chance of pursuit."
"But your duty to your superior; your oath as a member of the force?"
"My superior is here!" said the man pointing to Mr. Sylvester; "anunconscious one I own, but still my superior; and as for my being amember of the force, that was true five years ago, but not to-day." Andbrushing off his whiskers with one hand and taking off his goggles withthe other, Hopgood, the janitor, stood before them!
* * * * *
It was a radiant figure that met Cicely, when she came down stairs withPaula, and a joyous group that soon surrounded the now blushing andembarrassed janitor, with questions and remarks concerning this greatand unexpected development of affairs. But the fervor with which Mr.Stuyvesant clasped Bertram's hand, and the look with which Cicely turnedfrom her young lover to bestow a final kiss upon the departing bride,was worth all the pains and self-denial of the last few weeks--or so thejanitor thought, who with a quicker comprehension than usual, haddivined the situation and rejoiced in the result. But the most curiousthing of all was to observe how, with the taking off of his goggles,Hopgood had relapsed into his old shrinking, easily embarrassed self.The man who but a few minutes before had related in their hearing aclear and succinct narrative, now shrank if a question was put him, andstammered in quite his ancient fashion, when he answered Mr. Sylvester'sshake of the hand, by a hurried:
"I am going to see my wife now, sir. She's a good woman, if a littleflighty, and will be the last one in the future to beg me to put moreconfidence in her. Will you tell me where she is, sir?"
Mr. Sylvester informed him; then added, "But look here, Hopgood, answerme one thing before you go. Why is it that with such talents as youpossess, you didn't stay in the police force? You are a regular geniusin your way, and ought not to drone away your existence as a janitor."
"Ah, sir," replied the other, shaking his head, "a man who is onlycapable of assuming one disguise, isn't good for much as a professionaldetective. Goggles and red whiskers will deceive one rogue, but notfifty. My eyes were my bane, sir, and ultimately cost me my place. WhileI could cover them up I was all right. It not only made a man of me,leaving me free to talk and freer to think, but disguised me so, my bestfriends couldn't recognize me; but after awhile my goggles were too wellknown for me to be considered of much further use to the department, andI was obliged to send in my resignation. It is too bad, but I have noversatility, sir. I'm either the clumsy, stammering creature you havealways known, or else I am the man Cummins you saw here a few minutesago."
"In either case an honest fellow," answered Mr. Sylvester, and allowedthe janitor to depart.
* * * * *
One more scene, and this in the house which Paula is henceforth to makea home for herself and its once melancholy owner. They have come backfrom their wedding-journey, and are standing in their old fashion, he atthe foot, and she half way up the stairs. Suddenly she turns anddescends to his side.
"No, I will not wait," said she. "Here, on this spot we both love sowell, and in this the first hour of our return, I will unburden my mindof what I have to say. Edward, is there nothing of all the past thatstill rests upon you like a shadow? Not one little regret you could wishtaken away?"
"No," said he, enfolding her in his arms with a solemn smile. "The greatgift which I hold is the fruit of that past, perhaps; I cannot wish itchanged."
"But the sense of obligation never fulfilled, would you not be happierif that were removed?"
"Perhaps," he said, "but it cannot be now. I shall have to live withoutbeing perfectly happy."
She lifted her face and her smile shone like a star. "Oh God is good,"she cried, "you shall not lack being perfectly happy;" and taking alittle paper out of her pocket she put it in his hand. "We found thathidden in Jacqueline Japha's breast, when we went to lay her out forburial."
It was only a line; but it made Mr. Sylvester's brow flush and his voicetremble.
* * * * *
"Whatever I own, and I have been told that I am far from penniless, Idesire to have given to the dear and disinterested girl that first toldme of Margery Hamlin's vigil."
* * * * *
"Paula, Paula, Paula, thou art indeed my good gift! May God make meworthy of your love and of this His last and most unexpected mercy!"
And the look which crossed her face, was that sweet and unearthlyradiance which speaks of perfect peace.
The Sword of Damocles: A Story of New York Life Page 47
