2.2- 
 
 ACRES O 
 
 14 FAC. 
 UMIACH. CALtl
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM HENRY BISHOP 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE HOUSE OF A MERCHANT PRINCE," "DETMOLD' 
 "CHOY SUSAN," AND OTHER STORIES 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
 1890
 
 Copyright, 1887, 
 V WILLIAM HENRY BISHOP. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 Tht Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A. 
 Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Company
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. THE GOLDEN JUSTICE is RAISED ALOFT . . 1 
 
 n. A MAN OF THE WORLD 16 
 
 III. MBS. VAREMBERG 35 
 
 IV. A TRUER PICTURE OF MRS. VAREMBEKG . . 57 
 V. A NEW PARTNER AT BARCLAY'S ISLAND . . 84 
 
 VI. " TAUGHT BY MISFORTUNE, I PITY THE UN- 
 HAPPY" 105 
 
 VII. A RANDOM PROPHECY 133 
 
 /III. A MEETING AT THE FOOT OF THE GOLDEN 
 
 JUSTICE 152 
 
 IX. A WINSOME APPARITION 188 
 
 , X. A NAVAL ENGAGEMENT 220 
 
 XI. MRS. VAREMBERG is RELEASED 241 
 
 ^ III. "THE PEOPLE'S CANDIDATE" ...... 259 
 
 II. THE ELECTION OF A MAYOR 283 
 
 (V. THE CONTESTED ELECTION 295 
 
 , IV. DAVID LANE'S ATTEMPT AT FREEDOM . . . 312 
 
 VI. THE POWERS OF THE AIR 335 
 
 \v 
 
 II. ASTRJSA REDUX 367 
 
 C'
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 I. 
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE IS RAISED ALOFT. 
 
 THERE were many theories about the disastrous 
 collision at the Chippewa Street bridge; but not a 
 word was spoken against that eminent citizen, David 
 Lane. 
 
 The place of the event was Keewaydin, a high 
 northern city, on the shores of Lake Michigan, that 
 superb inland sea, which stretches a long arm down- 
 ward from the general chain of the American Great 
 Lakes. Keewaydin named for the Northwest 
 Wind had a population of somewhat more than 
 one hundred thousand souls. It was of a prosper- 
 ous, comely aspect, and solidly built of an indige- 
 nous yellow brick, the cool warmth of which seemed, 
 somehow, in keeping with the northerly latitude. 
 Through its midst flowed a smooth, canal-like river, 
 which, with tributaries, and basins dredged out in 
 certain marshes, afforded some twenty miles of wharf- 
 age for shipping. This river was spanned, at the foot 
 of nearly every other street, by a draw-bridge, 
 now opening to the bustling traffic by water, now 
 forming again a junction with the solid land, to ao 
 
 2O617G2
 
 2 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 commoclate the desultory cavalcade of foot-passengers 
 and teams. 
 
 The large propeller, Pride of the West, had struck 
 one of these bridges, and two lives had been lost. 
 
 The story might have been heard exhaustively 
 told at that favorite resort of vessel men and marine 
 gossips, the Johannisberger House, an old, high-por- 
 ticoed edifice by the river-side, which had once been 
 a family mansion of some note. 
 
 " As I understand it," said an engineer of the Owl 
 Line steam-tugs, summing up the part of it that re- 
 lated to David Lane, " as I understand it, David 
 Lane, he was on the bridge at the time " 
 
 " On the draw," growled the captain of a tug of 
 the rival Diamond Jim Line. 
 
 " On the dra\v, of course. Where could he ha' 
 been ? " retorted the other, as though only a person 
 very like an idiot could have insisted upon so fine a 
 distinction. " He was on the draw, and the propeller 
 was a-comin' through. All to once, he see Zelinsky, 
 the bridge-tender, drop in a kind o' fit. Lane rushes 
 forrard, to lend a hand ; but what could he do ? It 
 was this here paytent new-fangled turnin' apparay- 
 tus" 
 
 "They never had n't ought to be used on the 
 bridges, nohow ; or else they 'd ought to have more 
 men to 'em," interpolated a schooner's captain. 
 
 " She struck, and he was most killed, himself, for 
 his trouble. And now he's lyin' on his back with 
 half his bones broken, and no telliif when he '11 be 
 round again," concluded the Owl Line engineer.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 3 
 
 " He 's a man that ain't never been afraid to lend 
 a hand in most any way," said the schooner's captain, 
 with hearty emphasis. " He 's a whole-souled feller 
 free with his time and free with his money, one 
 of the kind that ought to have money, I 've always 
 said ; and I 'm glad he 's got a pile of it. I s'pose he 
 could buy and sell 'most any one else in Kee way- 
 din." 
 
 " Pretty free with his temper, too, eh ? " put in a 
 skeptical lake steward, temporarily out of employ- 
 ment. 
 
 " Well, what if he is ? What does it amount to ? 
 All of us has to blow off a little steam sometimes ; I 
 do myself." It was the gruff skipper of the Diamond 
 Jim Line, who again spoke. 
 
 " Nobody gets over it quicker than him, and no- 
 body 's quicker to make it up to a man, afterwards, if 
 he's ben wrong," said the schooner's captain. "I've 
 worked for him, gents, and I claim to know. Now, 
 gents, what shall it be ? " 
 
 And the talk was moistened once more, after the 
 fashion at the Johannisberger House, with beverages 
 served by the hands of mine host, Christian Idak, 
 in person. 
 
 Such was the account that obtained final accept- 
 ance, and such was the excellent repute enjoyed by 
 David Lane. The most censorious, seeking for flaws 
 in his conduct, could find nothing to urge against 
 him save a trivial over-hastiness of temper. But let 
 us look a little into the real circumstances of the 
 case.
 
 4 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 David Lane strode forth, that day, from the office 
 of the Northwestern Navigation Company, in a tow- 
 ering rage. lie may have hidden it, to some extent, 
 in the office of the company itself, but, once more on 
 West Water Street, without, he gave it full headway. 
 He arrived at the Chippewa Street bridge, by which 
 he was to cross to his own side of the town, in a 
 mood that ill beseemed so. respectable a gentleman. 
 Nevertheless, he considered himself to have ample 
 justification for it. 
 
 He had just heard, from the mouth of the plausi- 
 ble Shadwell, its president, the final refusal of the 
 company to grant him such terms for the carrying of 
 material from his iron mills as would have enabled 
 him to compete with Eastern rivals for a large and 
 desirable building contract. Why this concession 
 was refused need not here be entered into. Such 
 favors are sometimes done one another by the pala- 
 dins of trade and finance in a place like Keewaydin, 
 and then again are denied ; jealousies, rivalries, long- 
 standing grudges, waiting an opportunity to strike, 
 are all to be considered. If any one had been wait- 
 ing to strike at David Lane, perhaps this was rather 
 a favorable time. The capitalist was staggering un- 
 der some unusually heavy financial burdens, and 
 could ill afford any diminution of either profit or 
 prestige. Wounded pride, self-interest, and local pa- 
 triotism for he would have been glad, in the ambi- 
 tious Western way, that the town should have had 
 the work, even apart from any personal advantage of 
 his own combined to make up his present state
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 5 
 
 of mind. Added to the rest, he was suffering of late 
 from a malarious attack, and had slept but little for 
 several nights. 
 
 He set foot upon the draw just as it had begun to 
 swing, and he went round with it, its only passenger, 
 on its brief excursion. Something aroused him from 
 the bitter preoccupation in which he was at first 
 plunged, and he became somehow aware that it was 
 a craft of the hostile company for which the draw 
 was turning. Hardly had the reflection passed 
 through his mind, when the bridge-tender uttered a 
 painful, choking cry. " Help ! " he called, and again 
 " Help ! " and fell prone beneath his capstan bar. 
 He might have been overcome by heart disease or 
 apoplexy, or was, perhaps, only drunk. 
 
 The first thought of Lane was to complete the 
 turning of the bridge ; that was the thing of pressing 
 importance, the man could be looked to afterwards. 
 He rushed to the spot and laid hold upon the cap- 
 stan. But at this moment he was seized by a new 
 impulse.^ so wild and incredible as to resemble a 
 prompting of madness, a veritable frenzy, which 
 remained ever afterwards as much a mystery to him- 
 self as it could have been to any of those who knew 
 him. 
 
 With all his might he dragged back upon the lever, 
 instead of expediting its movement, and thus nar- 
 rowed, instead of enlarging, the passage. 
 
 The Pride of the West was returning to her dock 
 after one of her usual voyages on the lakes. Bulky, 
 massive, standing high up out of water, she forged
 
 6 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 ahead with all the momentum of her ample size. 
 "\Vitli a carelessness born of long immunity, she had 
 left herself just margin enough to pass if all went 
 well, and not an inch more, and it was too late for her 
 to stop. 
 
 Take that ! " muttered David Lane, through his 
 set teeth, as if addressing an actual person, and not 
 the mere inanimate hulk of a vessel. 
 
 Crash ! crash ! 
 
 Jets of escaping steam, whirling wreaths of smoke, 
 splinters, dust, and over all, the sickening sound of 
 the rending and crunching of human handiwork 
 never meant for such ruinous ordeals. 
 
 The bridge was overthrown from its basis of glib- 
 moving wheels, and tilted upward at an awkward 
 angle. From beneath two of its heavy fallen 
 trusses were taken out, when help arrived, Stanislaus 
 Zelinsky. the bridge-tender, dead, and David Lane 
 seriously injured. 
 
 Furthermore, the propeller was penetrated by a 
 sharp timber, which, held like a lance in rest, cruelly 
 impaled in his cabin a passenger, who had gone down 
 to throw together a few traps, preparatory to step- 
 ping ashore, and left him mangled and dead against 
 its further wall. He was one Christopher Barclay, 
 of the city of New York, who had come out to look 
 after property in these regions purchased many years 
 before. 
 
 This was the story told David Lane when he had 
 
 recovered consciousness after the shock of his 
 
 injuries. lie had even known the passenger, this
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 1 
 
 Christopher Barclay, tnown, at least, of his stand- 
 ing and consideration in the world. He knew that 
 this victim was cut off, in the prime of life, from a 
 career of usefulness and honor, and had left behind 
 him a family, dependent upon him, if not for support, 
 at least for the proper direction of their careers. 
 
 " Merciful Father in heaven ! " he breathed, in an 
 agony of mind yet sharper than his physical pains, 
 "have I done this? Oh, no, I will not believe it ! 
 Have I, henceforth, the guilt of the blood of two of 
 my fellow-creatures upon my soul ? It cannot be ; I 
 will not have it so. It is a greater punishmeut than 
 I can bear." 
 
 His purpose flew straight towards confession. 
 
 " It was I," he began. " It was I. I turned " 
 
 The attendants thought he raved, distracted by his 
 hurts. 
 
 " Yes, yes," they said, soothingly, " it was all seen 
 from the vessel's deck." (But as a matter of fact 
 it had not been accurately seen from anywhere.) 
 " You were not to blame ; you did all you could. 
 The surgeons think you had better not talk now. 
 You must try to compose yourself, and lie as quiet as 
 you can." 
 
 This repression but hastened the fever it was in- 
 tended to avert ; the patient fell off into a raging 
 delirium, and hovered between life and death for 
 three months. In this state he seemed to himself to 
 declare his crime, and to suffer almost every con- 
 ceivable form of expiation for it. 
 
 When he became rational again, the thought of
 
 8 '////: dOLDEN JUST 1C K. 
 
 confession resumed its sway. As he lay convales- 
 rin<f lie even meditated the form of words which his 
 
 
 
 avowal ought to take. But by this date the disaster 
 at the Chippewa Street bridge was long of the past ; 
 so many other things had happened in the mean time 
 that it would have required a certain effort of the 
 public imagination to go back to it. 
 
 There, too, by his bedside, stood his cherished wife, 
 his beloved daughter. Must he bring disgrace upon 
 them ? Must he tell them the kind of husband and 
 father he had been to them ? Was it required of 
 him, now that the harm was irreparable, and disclos- 
 ure could be of no avail to the dead ? 
 
 It was this daughter, Florence Lane, who proved 
 the strongest of all his deterring motives. She was. 
 the dearest being in the world to him. She was tall, 
 slender, and willowy, almost a woman now, and she 
 promised to be a beautiful, as well as a good and 
 clever one. She should have a very happy and brill- 
 iant future before her. Was he to mar it by his in- 
 famy ? Oh, no, he could not do it. 
 
 Hers was the first face upon which his eyes rested 
 when they recovered their calmer vision. She bent 
 down and kissed him, with a tender solicitude, lest 
 even this unwonted excitement might be to his detri- 
 ment. 
 
 "It is delightful to see you almost well again, 
 dear papa," she said, in the most tuneful of young 
 voices, marked by inflections of fondness. 
 
 They had always been the best of friends. The 
 daughter had brought to her father all her troubles,
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 9 
 
 all her childish and girlish interests. Nothing could 
 have been warmer, more complete, and pleasanter to 
 see than the devotion subsisting between the two. 
 
 " Why are you here ? " demanded the invalid, 
 feebly. 
 
 " I came home to be with you. I could not bear 
 to be far away when you were so ill. I am studying 
 again with Mrs. Miltimore," she replied. 
 
 The time passed ; David Lane at first vacillated, 
 then postponed his avowal, then wholly abandoned 
 it, and adopted a settled policy of concealment. He 
 set out, and traveled far and wide, for the restoration 
 of his impaired health and vigor. When he came 
 back, he was graver, gentler, quieter, than ever be- 
 fore. This change in character was laid to the acci- 
 dent, from the effects of which, it was supposed, he 
 had never fully recovered. 
 
 Among the first duties which he took upon himself 
 was that of the support of the family of the deceased 
 bridge-tender. He tried to persuade himself that 
 this death, at least, did not lie at his door, but that 
 the man had, even before the collision, succumbed to 
 some fatal malady. Nevertheless, the doubt always 
 existed, and it was upon this doubt that he acted. 
 His proceeding was looked upon as a pure piece of 
 benevolence, and called for the more praise, since a 
 prejudice had arisen against Zelinsky, as having been 
 intoxicated and responsible for the disaster, and 
 others might not have been so willing to extend help. 
 The family consisted of but two members, a wife and 
 infant daughter. The wife did not long survive.
 
 10 TV//: GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 The Polish child, prettily named " Stanislava," after 
 the " Stanislaus " of her father, was then taken 
 charge of by some humble German relatives, with 
 whom she lived, supported by a modest allowance 
 from David Lane. 
 
 He next found means to more than make up both 
 to the city and the Northwestern Navigation Com- 
 pany the damage they had sustained at his hands. 
 He took surreptitious steps also to advance the inter- 
 ests of the heirs of Christopher Barclay's estate. By 
 docking and dredging in its vicinity, in Che Menomee 
 Marsh, he gave a particular value, for instance, to a 
 waste bit of ground, which came to be known as Bar- 
 clay's Island, and to be the site of several flourish- 
 ing industries. He founded, at about this date, the 
 Lane Public Library, the Lane system of Industrial 
 Schools, and the Lane Free Hospital, and gave as 
 well to every private charity that made demands upon 
 his purse. 
 
 He had been well liked before, and he now became 
 an object of enthusiastic public favor. He was made 
 mayor, and then, for several terms, governor of the 
 State. He accepted these offices, proposing to make 
 of them, by an assiduous devotion to the public good 
 such as is rarely seen, a certain atonement. 
 
 In the midst of all this he was pursued by the in- 
 satiate terrors of remorse. He flouted, at times, in 
 bitter scorn, all his own devices. 
 
 " So, too, the robber barons of the Middle Ages," 
 he would say, " endeavored to buy immunity for their 
 crimes by indulgence in petty charities."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 11 
 
 It was a harrowing thought to him that the very 
 measures intended for reparation but added to his 
 own prosperity. Never had he been so flourishing 
 in all his affairs, never so prominent in the world. 
 What a whited sepulchre, what a wolf in sheep's 
 clothing, he called himself. He to live esteemed and 
 admired of his fellow-men when he should have had 
 only chastisement and contempt. He turned back 
 again to religion, of the formal sort, which, after a 
 fashion not uncommon with men of bustling and 
 active affairs, he had long neglected. He had the 
 Rev. Edward Brockston, of St. Jude's, a clergyman 
 of a serious and ascetic vein, one who preached eccle- 
 siastical celibacy and the like, to dine with him, made 
 him the almoner of many private bounties, and gave 
 him a new tower for his church. He thought of lay- 
 ing the whole case before this good man, and offering 
 to abide by his counsel ; but, at the last resort, he 
 could not bring himself to it. The very height to 
 which he had risen in the mean time was an added 
 obstacle ; it but made the distance which he had to 
 fall the greater. 
 
 Still he felt always upon him a resistless pressure 
 towards confession ; the mystery of the destruction 
 of two innocent human lives seemed to imperiously 
 demand accounting for. He was under something 
 like that powerful urgency from which the saying 
 has arisen that " murder will out." He even medi- 
 tated the woful resource of suicide, and contemplated 
 with a certain deliberation all of its forms. 
 
 At last, however, David Lane found a method of
 
 12 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 relief, of a bizarre sort, which perhaps none but he, 
 and he only in the most morbidly eccentric of his 
 moods, would ever have hit upon. 
 
 At about this time Keewaydin was to place a figure 
 of Justice on the dome of its city hall, a mammoth, 
 expensive edifice, which had dragged its slow length 
 along for many years, and was now at last com- 
 pleted. The statue was to be its final touch of orna- 
 ment. It was of plates of beaten zinc, handsomely 
 gilded, well stayed from within, and was, like the 
 famed Athena Parthenos, about " six times the height 
 of a man." 
 
 It was the proposition of some ingenious spirit in 
 the board of aldermen that the figure should be made 
 a place used for the deposit of papers, like a corner- 
 stone. The idea was said to be borrowed from the 
 steeple of the most exemplary meeting-house in town, 
 the gilt ball of which so the rumor ran con- 
 tained whiskey and playing-cards, deposited there by 
 graceless wags at the time of its construction. How- 
 ever this may have been, the plan was now utilized 
 most unobjectionably. David Lane, a distinguished 
 townsman, who had had to do with the erection of 
 the building, and was at the time governor of the 
 State, was asked to honor the occasion and deliver 
 the dedicatory address, and he consented to do so. 
 
 The civic pile, become that day the centre of public 
 interest, stood in a little green park, near the business 
 centre of the place, but removed from its bustle. 
 The square was flanked on three sides by private 
 dwellings, standing comfortably back in their own
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 13 
 
 door-yards, aud on the fourth by a cathedral with 
 schools, having a tall clock-tower, from which the 
 hours were pleasantly chimed. The new city hall 
 was of an imposing Renaissance design, built in the 
 main of good red sandstone from the Lake Superior 
 quarries, but this supplemented, in the great porticoes 
 and elsewhere, after a cheap American way, with 
 iron work, to which painting and sanding gave 'only 
 a far-off imitation of the more solid material. It 
 would never make even a passable ruin supposing 
 its architect, like Martiuus Scriblerus, to have de- 
 signed his building, not for present use, but its aspect 
 in decay. Only that which has been fairly substan- 
 tial and honest in life can be impressive in death. 
 
 Before it, at full length, on the grass, lay the Golden 
 Justice. Trammeled up in her hoisting tackle, and 
 surrounded by the crowds of spectators, she seemed 
 like captive Gulliver in Lilliput, or the great statue 
 of Diana '' which fell down from Jupiter," at Ephe- 
 sus. or some palladium of the liberties of Keewaydin 
 temporarily overthrown. She was of a fair, serene, 
 and noble aspect, and well worthy of her destination. 
 Her eyes were not blindfolded, in the usual way ; the 
 brows were deeply shaded by a martial helmet, rest- 
 ing upon the loosely-bound tresses that rippled away 
 on either side ; on her thigh was a long, straight- 
 hilted sword, and in her hand, gathered up with the 
 drapery, the conventional scales. There was some- 
 thing else about the golden goddess, something that, 
 had he noted it, might perhaps have stayed the cu- 
 rious project of David Lane, even in the moment of
 
 14 THE GUl.UEX JUSTICE. 
 
 its execution, but lie was too full of his own agitated 
 thoughts, and it escaped him. 
 
 In his address to-day he surpassed himself. He 
 spoke with a genuine eloquence that was a surprise 
 to all who knew him. His words were of a moving 
 force, his views of the austerest purity. He had the 
 look of some stoic sage of the antique mould. 
 
 " Fiat justitia, ruat coelum ! " he thundered ; and 
 then, again, for the benefit of the vulgar, " Let jus- 
 tice be done, though the heavens fall ! " 
 
 With this his oration was over, and the moment 
 had come to deposit the papers. He dropped into 
 the receptacle prepared for them the various public 
 documents. Then, with cruelly shaking hand and 
 a heart that beat so loudly it seemed a wonder the 
 bystanders did not hear it, he dropped in a paper 
 strangely different, indeed, from all the rest. 
 
 It was a written confession, in full, of his crime. 
 
 " If it be required, by the eternal fitness of things, 
 that this be known," he breathed forth above it, " let 
 the paper come down. If it do not come down, by 
 that testimony I shall know that I am absolved at 
 least before men, and my punishment awaits me 
 hereafter. I commit myself to the hands of eternal 
 justice ; to her I leave my fate." 
 
 The baud struck up, shrill cheers rent the air, and 
 salutes of guns were fired. The great statue was 
 hoisted to her feet, tottered a little in the air, 
 in which attitude she might be thought to have a cer- 
 tain recognition of the responsibility of her situation, 
 slid along ways prepared for her on the roofs, and
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 15 
 
 was set securely in her place on the high central 
 dome. 
 
 And there, aloft, a shining mark from far and 
 near before the eyes of all men, stood henceforth the 
 Golden Justice, with the secret of David Lane in its 
 keeping. 
 
 This was in his first term as governor. In his last 
 term having enjoyed the intimacy of the Presi- 
 dent, and being of the stuff of which such dignita- 
 ries are made he was sent as minister to one of the 
 most important European courts. His wife died, and 
 a sister of his own took charge of his household. 
 His daughter, Florence Lane, arrived at woman's es- 
 tate, and made a brilliant foreign marriage, much 
 talked of in its time. He prolonged his stay abroad 
 many years. At intervals he almost forgot all that 
 was behind him, but there, far back across the sea, in 
 the place of his abode, was the Golden Justice, and 
 his secret, always awaiting him.
 
 n. 
 
 A MAN OF THE WORLD. 
 
 OXE day, some ten years after the raising aloft of 
 the Golden Justice, the Chippewa Street draw was 
 again on the swing. 
 
 The bridge-tender at present in charge was a short, 
 stout man, with a florid complexion, little, round, pro- 
 truding gray eyes, and big, coarse fists. He evi- 
 dently had a very good idea of his own importance. 
 Ludwig Trapschuh laid claim, in fact, to an exhaus- 
 tive acquaintance with all people and things in the 
 vicinity of his bridge. Not exactly of the solid land, 
 nor yet altogether of the water, but belonging in part 
 to both, he prided himself on a sort of amphibious 
 character and a sovereignty over the double domain. 
 Added to this, he had outside irons in the fire, small 
 ventures, generally unsuccessful, which kept him in 
 straits for money, but the failure of one never abated 
 his willingness to engage in others of the same sort. 
 
 He had just slipped an arm into one sleeve of his 
 coat, and was about to go off his post on some private 
 affairs of his own. He was leaving his final instruc- 
 tions with a new assistant, from the Milesian Third 
 Ward, and he intermingled with these a quantity of 
 gossip. The assistant, with an impressed air, yielded 
 an ample deference to all that he said.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 17 
 
 " You must not let more as fifteen catties go over 
 at once," said Ludwig Trapschub ; " and you must 
 not let dem teams crowd ahead mit demselves too 
 much, one by de oder. De draw cannot be open 
 more as ten minyutes. Den must you show de red 
 signal, or, if it was night, de red lantern, and 
 no more vessels can pass. You und'stand ? " 
 
 " I belayve you, I do." 
 
 " Sometimes she go round yust so easy as noding 
 at all ; and sometimes she jump like she was crazy," 
 pursued Ludwig Trapschuh, explaining with a gusto 
 the traits of his bridge. " You look out for her." 
 
 " Niver fear ! " 
 
 " Well, now, I got to go and see me a couple o' 
 dem South Side aldermens. Dem aldermens do yust 
 what I tell 'em, every time, so quick like rollin' round 
 a log." 
 
 " It 's a grand political in/?z<ence you have, en- 
 tirely." 
 
 " Well," responded the other complacently, " I 
 guess I was a pretty smart feller for my age. I live 
 'moug dem Polanders, and got plenty influenz mit 
 dem, anyhow. If some managers wants dem, dey 
 know dey got to get me, first, eh ? I bet you no one 
 understand dem Polanders better as what I do." 
 
 " The Polacks is different to the regular Dutch, I 
 belayve ? " said the assistant with an air of ethno- 
 logic speculation. 
 
 " They bin worse as Mecklenbergers ; they bin not 
 good for much except saw wood and work by rail- 
 roads. I am a Pomeranian, but my sister, she got
 
 18 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 married with a Polander Zelinsky. If he was a smart 
 man, he don't get killed on this bridge, so mauy years 
 ago." 
 
 " Well, now ! well now ! " 
 
 " They build their houses round by me, and when 
 my brother-of-law die I bring my niece-of-law, Stan- 
 i.-luva Zelinsky, to live by me, and we get kind o' 
 used to 'em and stay mit 'em," said Trapschuh, desir- 
 ous to explain how it was he came to abide in the 
 large Polish settlement on the South Side. 
 
 There now came by, driving a shabby express- 
 wagon, one of those rowdy young fellows, a type of 
 a certain kind of foreigners of the second generation, 
 who have acquired all the American vices, with 
 none of the virtues, adding them to the ample 
 stock already possessed of their own. He spoke 
 English perfectly well, or perfectly ill, in the way of 
 its commonest slang. This was one " Barney " Trap- 
 schuh, hopeful son of the bridge-tender. 
 
 " The South Side Belle 's comin' down the river," 
 said this person, pointing a coarse thumb back over 
 his shoulder. 
 
 " Where you seen her ? " 
 
 " Oh, up there along the docks." 
 
 With this he drove on. His father presently 
 turned his attention to a rusty-looking, small sloop 
 that made her appearance at the draw. 
 
 " Bah, the South Side Belle ! " he exclaimed with 
 contempt. " Billy Alfsen 's goin' across the lake af- 
 ter another' load o' them peaches. I wish he sink 
 himself to the bottom in his leaky old tub."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 19 
 
 A well-built young man, the William Alfsen re- 
 ferred to, stood on the deck of the sloop with a defi- 
 ant air, as if conscious of the unfriendly scrutiny to 
 which he was subjected. The whole remaining crew 
 consisted of a single tow-headed boy of fifteen. 
 
 " That last load of peaches what he bring was all 
 spoiled ; the fruit inspector throw 'em out," grumbled 
 Trapschuh. " He make nothing since he give up his 
 place in the Stamp- Ware Works, and he got to 
 take care of his old father, besides. He own not 
 even that old sloop ; some ones hold mortgage on it." 
 
 " Is that so ? " 
 
 " He 's no good. What he mean by South Side's 
 Belle, any way ? He mean my niece-of-law, Stanis- 
 lava. He hang around that girl all time he can, but 
 I don't let it, see ? " 
 
 " I do," answered the listener, with his continued 
 air of admiration, though he had heard the same story 
 before, and even more than once, in his short term of 
 service. 
 
 " She got no hurry to bin married, but she must 
 get married with some feller with a few dollars in his 
 pocket, see ? " 
 
 He would now at last have taken his departure, 
 but the Pride of the West was seen once more com- 
 ing up the stream. He professed a peculiar nervous- 
 ness about this boat to which he owed his situation, 
 for David Lane had got it for him on account of his 
 relationship to the slain Zelinsky, and he stayed to 
 see her through, himself. The bridges below were 
 seen opening and closing for, her, like parts of some
 
 20 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 single. glib-working machine. She signaled twice, by 
 the customary whistle. As she drew near, Trapschuh, 
 out of his large acquaintance, identified a little knot 
 of persons standing on her forward deck, by the rail. 
 
 " That 's Jim DeBow," said he, " he 's a big fel- 
 ler on 'Change. And that 's Mrs. DeBow ; and that 
 stylish young lady is his daughter, Miss DeBow. I 
 see it in the papers that they bin in Chicago. But 
 that young feller, with them good clothes and such a 
 fine kind o' look, I don't know him ; I guess he 
 bin a stranger round here." 
 
 Then a bit of vivid excitement occurred that took 
 away opportunity for further gossip. When this was 
 over, he looked around reproachfully, as if the effort 
 had been made by some one to remove him, Trap- 
 schuh, from his post of duty at a peculiarly critical 
 moment, and he knew not what would have happened 
 if he had gone. Making a general rule of two oc- 
 currences, separated by at least fifteen years, he ex- 
 claimed, 
 
 " That boat is always doin' something at this 
 bridge." 
 
 The group at the rail, so far as identified, had been 
 correctly described. It was the DeBow family, and, 
 with them, a new acquaintance, one they had made on 
 the voyage itself, returning from Chicago. 
 
 This stranger was a man of somewhat more than 
 thirty, but appearing younger. He was considerably 
 above the middle height, of robust frame, closely but- 
 toned into a well-fitting suit of Scotch tweeds, and he
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 21 
 
 stood squarely on his feet, looking with interest at all 
 about him. His skin, browned by healthy exposure, 
 contributed with other details to give him a foreign 
 and traveled air. His expression conveyed a latent 
 geniality, combined with dignity, experience of the 
 world, and a certain importance in it, while his slight- 
 ly reserved bearing was free from any shade of pre- 
 tense. He was called, his companions had learned, 
 Paul Barclay. 
 
 He had conversed chiefly with Miss Justine De- 
 Bow. He had been tacitly left to her by the elders, 
 who, following a provincial tradition, felt that the 
 young, as a matter of course, belonged to each other, 
 and could not be expected to interest themselves out- 
 side their own ranks. The girl was young and pret- 
 ty, and not far past her school-days. She had a very 
 symmetrical little figure, an almost purely classic 
 profile, and a proudly curling upper lip. She was un- 
 usually petite, to atone for which she seemed to af- 
 fect a certain stateliness of manner, which was at 
 times of an amusing incongruity. She had a formal, 
 precise -way of speaking, taking care to use the Boston, 
 or English, broad a. She had not been brought up to 
 this, but had acquired it at the Keewaydin Female 
 College, of which institution she had been valedicto- 
 rian, as she let fall, and where she had been known 
 as a smart, ambitious, spirited little person. 
 
 This Paul Barclay had impressed her from the first 
 as some one very different from the ordinary run of 
 new-comers to Keewaydin. He had let fall chance 
 expressions which opened to her vistas into an ample
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 fxperience. She said to herself that he was the 
 near^t realization she had yet seen of " a man of the 
 world ; " and a man of the world was at present Miss 
 Justine DeBow's ideal of all that was superlatively 
 admirable. She had tired already, as is not so uncom- 
 mon at a certain date with maidens of her years, of 
 the callow youth of her acquaintance ; she sighed for 
 one who had seen all, could do all, and might take her 
 away to form part of a more complete and splendid 
 society than any she had ever known. 
 
 He had spoken admiringly of the view of the town 
 from the water, as they came into the harbor, and of 
 the two long breakwater piers with their light-houses. 
 With the common enough ignorance of one to the 
 manner born, she knew even less of many things 
 about her home than he. It was he who had hud to 
 tell her that the Great Lakes were " a step-mother to 
 ships," offering no natural refuge in all their thou- 
 sands of miles of coast, and that the harbors were 
 formed by utilizing the mouths of the small rivers 
 that make into them. He asked her to point out to 
 him Barclay's Island, and gazed at certain factory 
 buildings upon it, clustered around a mammoth brick 
 chimney, with a good deal of attention. 
 
 Have you relatives here?" inquired his comely 
 young cicerone, attracted by the coincidence of names. 
 
 " Yes, the Thornbrooks." 
 
 The Thornbrooks were an excellent old couple, liv- 
 ing in a large square house near the centre of the 
 town, who their children now all married off 
 were passing their declining years in placid comfort.
 
 TEE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 23 
 
 This led up to nothing in particular, though even 
 this, had her memory gone somewhat further back, 
 or had she applied to her father for information, 
 might have given her certain interesting clews. 
 
 DeBow himself occasionally took some share in 
 the talk. No derogation was meant in calling him 
 " Jim " DeBow. The name was used alike by those 
 who knew and those who did not know him, and was 
 a complimentary adoption of him by the general pub- 
 lic, such as often happens to local magnates of his 
 sort. Though so " big a fellow on 'Change," after 
 the description of Trapschuh, he was small of stat- 
 ure, in this respect his daughter took after him. 
 He showed a jovial tendency, and had a large, ex- 
 pansive way of talking, of the kind often thought 
 peculiarly " Western." His rhetoric had wings, and 
 he followed it as far as possible by rising on his toes. 
 He spoke of the commerce of Keewaydin, and claimed 
 that more actual tonnage came to the port than to 
 Boston, Baltimore, or Philadelphia. 
 
 " We are the American Odessa," he went on. 
 " Wheat is our great staple ; we beat the world on 
 wheat. This wonderful great northwestern country 
 stretching back of us gives a hard, firm grade of 
 cereal that makes men of brain and men of muscle." 
 
 " And you naturally eat a good deal of it, at 
 home?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, ha, ha, very good ! We eat it, at 
 home, lots of it ; you 'd better believe we eat it." 
 
 " Is it your first visit to our section ? " he asked 
 presently.
 
 '_' 1 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 "My first visit." 
 
 " I shall take great pleasure in showing you 'round 
 on 'Change, or anywhere else, if you will give me a 
 call." 
 
 " I shall be glad to accept your polite offer, should 
 iny engagements permit." 
 
 As to Mrs. DeBow, a faded-looking lady, she ap- 
 peared to be one of those American mothers, of a cer- 
 tain class, who are left behind by the too rapid move- 
 ment of the world, and can make no effort to keep up 
 with the development of new and brilliant ideas on 
 the part of their juniors. She seemed to efface her- 
 self with an even more than common humility, but 
 Barclay took care to address her some trifling atten- 
 tions, from which a student of character would at 
 once have inferred in him a natural kindness of 
 heart, together with the habit of prompt and com- 
 prehensive courtesy. The good lady replied to him, 
 " Yes, sir," and " No, sir," in a sort of fluttered def- 
 erence. 
 
 " Mamma is a great invalid," said Justine, manag- 
 ing to draw him away from her at the earliest mo- 
 ment. There were things in both her parents she 
 did not approve of. She might have explained, had 
 she been willing to, that she was driven to her own 
 hauteur of manner as a reaction and protest. 
 
 The coffee-colored river was full of animation, at 
 this favorable season for traffic, the last months be- 
 fore the annual close of navigation. All the marine 
 flock that roamed the wide water pastures were com- 
 ing and going on the peaceful river lane.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 25 
 
 The huge steamer for the extreme end of Superior 
 cut across the bows of that for Mackinaw and the 
 lakes eastward. The Owl vied in speed with the 
 Diamond Jim, and the Little Moses with the Ajax 
 and the Excalibur. A wrecking-tug was going out 
 to look after a bark ashore at Whitefish Bay ; a steam- 
 barge, laden with flour, tangled itself up with the 
 steam-dredge Vulcan, poking along the channel in its 
 customary morose-looking way. Their agile turnings 
 whirled the water into seething eddies. Schooners, 
 sloops, barks, and brigantines lay alongside the great 
 wheat elevators, and these structures, bulky and im- 
 posing as basilicas of some Titantic race, poured into 
 their holds, through wooden troughs, streams of grain 
 as golden as the sands of the Pactolus. "Warehouses 
 of yellow brick, reflected in its depths, rose along the 
 margins of the river. The merchant on the water 
 streets had his ship at his rear door like his drays 
 at the front. The mellow haze of autumn, boldly 
 broken now and then by a black hull, a red smoke- 
 stack, a bright pennant, and the clustering spars, 
 brooded over the whole, which, though so American 
 in kind, had almost the picturesque interest of a 
 canal of Rotterdam. 
 
 The revenue cutter appointed to look after the gov- 
 ernment's interests in these waters passed our travel- 
 ers, going the same way. The officer in command of 
 her glanced up, when alongside, and sought, with evi- 
 dent anxiety, the recognition of Miss DeBow. 
 
 That young lady murmured to herself presently, 
 " The Florence Lane."
 
 _M; rut: GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 Her companion, whose attention had been for the 
 moment elsewhere, turned, and repeated, with a sharp 
 tone of inquiry, " Florence Lane ? Florence Lane?" 
 
 She had simply been reading the name, as he could 
 now do for himself, on the stern-post of the receding 
 cutter. 
 
 " Oh, I knew a person of that name once," he 
 thought good to state, in explanation. " I recollect 
 that she was from this place. It is natural enough 
 that it should be preserved here, where she was born 
 and brought up. The family was a very prominent 
 one, I believe." 
 
 " Oh, you knew Mrs. Varemberg Florence Lane 
 that was?" asked his companion, hailing with pleas- 
 ure this fresh note in a conversation that was begin- 
 ning to flag. " Abroad, I suppose ?" 
 
 ' Yes, I met them abroad.'.' 
 
 " Yes, indeed, hers has always been a prominent 
 family here. The boat was called after her by some 
 friend of her father's while he was governor. Ah, 
 she was a remarkable woman," with envious admira- 
 tion ; " accomplished, beautiful, one of the greatest 
 of our belles. And yet not exactly a belle, either : 
 I mean it always seemed that she could have been 
 more than that she wanted to be. Florence Lane was 
 always my ideal ; I used to look up at her, when a 
 child, with ecstatic adoration." 
 
 She dropped naively, in her impulsiveness, to the 
 more natural manner of her age, and even forgot 
 more than once to pronounce the Boston broad a. 
 
 " But tell ma how she seemed to you," she went on.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 27 
 
 " The first I ever saw of her was at the entertain- 
 ment of a high functionary, in Paris," replied Paul 
 Barclay, with some air of constraint, and yet of will- 
 ingness, after all, to furnish this reminiscence of a 
 traveler. " I arrived at an official palace in the Rue 
 de Varennes, where two statue-like cuirassiers sat on 
 horseback in the court-yard. At the foot of a grand 
 staircase a chamberlain in black velvet, with a ribbon 
 and medal about his neck, waved you up to another, 
 who announced you in the reception-rooms. I re- 
 marked a lady of a grace and distinction far beyond 
 all others present. ' There,' said I, ' is surely the true 
 type of a Montmorency or La Rochejaquelein ; there 
 is the vielle roche, the very flower of patrician love- 
 liness.' I was still in my first days abroad, and full 
 of romantic notions. I asked who she was, and they 
 told me, ' The daughter of the American minister.' " 
 
 " Then, of course, you knew all about her wedding, 
 too, and were probably present at it ? The society 
 papers were full of it at the time. They gave long 
 lists of guests of rank and distinction. There were 
 even presents from crowned heads, on account 
 of her father's position, I suppose. Let me see : it 
 was a Belgian she married, I think?" 
 
 " Yes, Varemberg was a Belgian." 
 
 " He was not titled himself, but had grand connec- 
 tions, and was very rich ? " 
 
 " Varemberg was supposed to be a person of for- 
 tune. He was an accomplished, entertaining fellow. 
 I recollect he professed an especial liking for Ameri- 
 cans."
 
 28 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 It was called a very brilliant affair. What a 
 pity it turned out so badly ! " 
 
 She sighed, as if in pity that it ever had to be said 
 that brilliant things turned out badly. 
 
 Barclay looked at her with a glance of rising curi- 
 
 " She is so changed now one would scarcely know 
 her," went on the informant. " She is not the same 
 person at all, since her return." 
 
 * Her return ? She has been here, then ? " 
 
 Why, she lives here. She returned not very 
 long after her father was recalled from his post." 
 
 Mrs. Varemberg is here ? " 
 
 -' To be sure she is, though one scarcely ever sees 
 her. She keeps a close seclusion ; it is partly on ac- 
 count of her troubles, I suppose, and then, too, she is 
 a good deal of an invalid." 
 
 " And her husband ?"" 
 
 She has left him." 
 
 The recipient of this intelligence showed a disturb- 
 ance of manner over it that would hardly have been 
 occasioned by an ordinary piece of gossip. 
 
 What seemed to be the trouble?" he asked. 
 
 " People do not know exactly what happened ; it 
 has all been kept very quiet." 
 
 By way of withdrawing attention from any unus- 
 ual agitation he may have exhibited, the young man, 
 upon this, affected a new interest in things on the 
 river. Justine DeBow was dying to know if he were 
 likely to fetay, and if she should meet him in the 
 society of the place. She ventured to ask him.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 29 
 
 " I am here only on a brief business errand," he 
 responded. 
 
 The Chippewa Street bridge was at hand, where 
 Ludwig Trapschuh was making his observations. A 
 tug, puffing near the bow of the Pride of the West, 
 put on an extra pressure, of steam to drag out a 
 heavy flour-scow it had iu tow. The strain proved 
 too much for a defective portion of the machinery. 
 Bang ! With a sharp explosion, off blew a cylinder 
 head ; her smoke-stack and part of her cabin roof 
 came flying against the propeller's side as if shot 
 from a catapult, and carried away some stanchions of 
 the rail, close by our couple. It was over in an in- 
 stant, and no serious harm was done, but Justine was 
 affected by a nervous panic, and Barclay was obliged 
 to reassure her till her parents came up and her own 
 better sense prevailed. 
 
 He himself showed no signs of fear, but seemed 
 strangely thrilled by another cause. He exclaimed, 
 
 " History repeats itself ! My father was killed at 
 this same place." 
 
 It was all in the papers of the same afternoon, and 
 particularly in that very enterprising sheet the Kee- 
 waydin Index. This paper " interviewed " James 
 DeBow, and endeavored to do as much for Paul Bar 
 clay, but could not find him. It also put at the head 
 of its column the motto, " History repeats itself." 
 Then, following a smart journalistic practice of print- 
 ing everything apropos of the occasion, it rehearsed 
 the whole history of the tragedy at the Chippewa 
 Street bridge, of years before, with full notes of the 
 inquests and sketches of the principal participants.
 
 30 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 However it was to others, his paper that day was 
 extremely interesting reading to ex-Mayor, ex-Gov- 
 ernor, and ex-Minister David Lane, living now in his 
 handsome mansion on the bluff, above the lake shore. 
 
 Paul Barclay landed, and was driven to the princi- 
 pal hotel, the Telson House, the trim facade and spa- 
 cious corridors of which were the especial pride of 
 Keewaydin. He left the hotel again for the office of 
 a law firm known as Mackintosh and Rand, in Kee- 
 waydin Block. Mackintosh was dead, it appeared, 
 but he was received by the surviving partner, a man 
 of gaunt, bony figure and not too prepossessing coun- 
 tenance. He was led through an anteroom, where a 
 pallid clerk was writing at a desk, and a stout, mid- 
 dle-aged gentleman was seated with a weary air of 
 dancing attendance. 
 
 " I was expecting you, Mr. Barclay," said Rand. 
 "The death of our Mr. Mackintosh, who had your 
 matters particularly in charge, embarrassed me a 
 little, of course, but I have caught up, and you '11 find 
 everything ready for your inspection, whenever you 
 please to go over it." 
 
 " If quite convenient, then, I should like to do so 
 at once. I am on my way to New York, and anxious 
 to be off again as soon as possible." 
 
 " So I judged by your letter from San Francisco. 
 Sit down. I '11 be with you immediately." 
 
 The lawyer went out to the anteroom, and returned 
 with a tin box, labeled with a list of its contents. 
 These were spread upon a large table, and the two 
 men sat down to their examination.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 31 
 
 It was a question of timber lands in Eau Claire 
 County, mineral deposits near Escanaba, a water 
 privilege and saw-mills on the Chippewa River, a 
 large tract in Marathon County, on which there 
 was a proposition to establish a colony of Danes, 
 and some city blocks and the like in Keewaydin. 
 This was property left by the original Barclay, and 
 his son had now for the first time, at the request of 
 his family, stopped to look into it. 
 
 " By the way," said he, " they have also forwarded 
 another letter, which was sent to me in their care." 
 
 He drew from his pocket a bulky communication, 
 which proved to be a pathetic appeal, from a Kee- 
 waydin correspondent, to be saved from impending 
 bankruptcy. The attorney glanced at it with a con- 
 temptuous shrug. 
 
 " Oh, yes," said he, " it is Maxwell, again, about 
 that Barclay's Island property and his Stamped- Ware 
 Works. So he gets at you, too ? He has all but 
 talked me to death with his plea for an extension, 
 but I don't see that we can do anything for him." 
 
 " Tell me about the affair and this Maxwell. 
 What is he like ? Is he honest ? " 
 
 " Oh, honest enough, I dare say, as far as that 
 goes," with a clear implication that there are much 
 more important things in the world than honesty. 
 " He is over-sanguine, a poor calculator, and weighed 
 down by a large family, too, and has been making a 
 losing fight of it all along." 
 
 " And what are the merits of the case ? " 
 
 " Why, just this: the factory is in excellent condi-
 
 32 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 tion, and if \ve foreclose now we have a very good 
 thing of it ; while if we wait, and let him run along, 
 everything will go to rack, and will hardly be worth 
 taking. He has put a lot of money into improve- 
 ments, and we can get the whole for a mere song." 
 
 " Are such things really done ? " asked the young 
 man, in surprise. 
 
 " My dear sir, very few of us are so well off in 
 this world's goods as to be able to afford to actually 
 throw money away, and that is what it is doing to 
 neglect a chance like this. I speak as one business 
 man to another. You would hardly wish me to be 
 less devoted to your interests than my own." 
 
 My business experience has been of rather limited 
 extent up to this time." 
 
 " Naturally, naturally, and you do well. Why 
 should a young gentleman of your fortune and posi- 
 tion bother his head about such matters ? " 
 
 "It is your judgment, then, that the mortgage 
 should be foreclosed ? " 
 
 " Certainly it is. Maxwell has nobody to blame 
 but himself; he would tell you so frankly. He is 
 outside there now, I see ; his time is up to-morrow, 
 and I suppose he has come in for some sort of final 
 palaver." 
 
 "With this he. appeared satisfied that he had laid 
 any trifling scruples there might be in the mind of 
 his patron entirely at rest. 
 
 " I will see Maxwell," said Barclay, impassively. 
 
 The attorney touched a bell, and the pallid clerk 
 ushered iu the dejected-looking gentleman from the
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 33 
 
 anteroom. Maxwell went over his story again, in 
 person. Once only, yielding to a touch of a natural 
 hopefulness, he said, 
 
 " With a little more money, that factory could be 
 made one of the best paying properties in the world." 
 
 The lawyer directed at his principal shrewd smiles 
 and winks of commiseration, and glances, as who 
 should say, " Shall I cut him short ? Have we had 
 enough of this nonsense ? " So sure was he of the 
 result that he even took it upon himself to save his 
 patron the trouble of replying. 
 
 " It won't do, Maxwell," said he. " You have no 
 new considerations of any business kind to offer. 
 Mr. Barclay has been kind enough to hear you him- 
 self, and now you ought to be satisfied, but you see 
 as well as I do things have got to take their course." 
 
 The manufacturer turned in a broken way to de- 
 part. He seemed from the first to have expected lit- 
 tle else. 
 
 " Hold on ! " cried Paul Barclay, suddenly throw- 
 ing off his impassiveness. " I will extend the mort- 
 gage." 
 
 Maxwell dropped into a chair, and, like Rand, 
 stared at him at first in open-mouthed astonishment. 
 
 " But I thought we had agreed " began Rand, 
 in expostulation. 
 
 " I do not wish to make money in any such detes- 
 table way," said Barclay, with indignation. " And 
 for the future," he added, " I beg to take the man- 
 agement of my affairs into my own hands." 
 
 He was apparently a person not afraid to make
 
 34 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 enemies, at least in a good cause, a quality already 
 somewhat rare in our too enervating civilization. 
 The change of management he proposed, it may here 
 be told, would reduce the income of his property, but 
 it would add to the comfort of many persons, for 
 everybody on the Barclay estate had long been hav- 
 ing a very hard time of it. 
 
 When all was concluded he went out with Max- 
 well. 
 
 Tears of emotion filled the eyes of the grateful 
 manufacturer, if, indeed, they did not wholly over- 
 flow. 
 
 " It seems too good to be true ! " he exclaimed. 
 " I was all ready for ruin ; my family were waiting 
 to be turned into the street." 
 
 " By the bye," said Barclay, in parting with him, 
 " let me have some figures about the factory in writ- 
 ing. If it be as you say, some little further capital 
 may perhaps be found for it." 
 
 He went next to find his relatives, the Thorn- 
 brooks, and then spent some time musingly looking 
 off at the water from the Chippewa Street bridge. 
 
 In the evening he left his hotel once more, and 
 drove to see the Mrs. Varemberg of whom he had 
 heard on the steamer, at the house of her father, 
 David Lane.
 
 III. 
 
 MRS. VAREMBERG. 
 
 DAVID LANE'S house was spacious and comfort- 
 able, but, with its peculiar tower and general orna- 
 mentation of the capricious irregularity that too often 
 marks the American striving after architectural ef- 
 fect, it could hardly be accounted anything more. It 
 dated from a period long before his going abroad, and 
 he would perhaps have done much better now, but 
 he had not thought it worth while to build again. 
 He had only added, at the entrance to the grounds, 
 a tall, handsome, wrought-iron gateway, like that of 
 some foreign chateau. A row of conservatories 
 flanked the house on the right hand, and graceful 
 clumps of shrubbery on the left. 
 
 The interior, on the contrary, was in excellent 
 taste ; here everything accorded with an intelligent 
 understanding of luxury. As Paul Barclay waited 
 in one of the drawing-rooms, while his card was 
 taken above, his eyes rested upon warm and harmo- 
 nious coloring, tapestries, pictures, and carvings, 
 and many trophies of travel and rare souvenirs that 
 would naturally belong to a family like this. 
 
 Mrs. Varemberg rustled down to him presently in 
 a becoming toilette, that seemed perhaps to be a trifle 
 too much in relief, however, as if the frail figure of
 
 36 TllK GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 the wearer had shrunk away from it. She was clasp- 
 ing on her wrist a bracelet of curious pattern, from 
 which tinkled some small, golden ornaments. 
 
 " Is it indeed you ? Is it actually Paul Barclay ? " 
 she asked, with much animation. 
 
 " Yes, I think there can be little doubt of it. 
 There must be a certain solidity about me, even 
 now." 
 
 There was no lack of it in the strong, manly pres- 
 sure of the hand he gave to hers, which she held out 
 to him in welcome. 
 
 "You have grown stouter," she said, beginning 
 with the merest commonplaces. 
 
 " It is the effect of the long journey. I shall have 
 to train down again. And you " 
 
 " Oh, do not look at me. I am a mere bundle of 
 aches and pains." 
 
 She was tall, for a woman, not very far below 
 Barclay's own height. Large, dark, softly lustrous 
 eyes, with long lashes, illuminated most expressively 
 a countenance full of intelligence. A piquant nose 
 and a mobile, lovable mouth, seemingly meant for 
 happier things, were contradicted by a pervading air 
 of sadness. The corners of the mouth tended too 
 much downward, and there were sombre shadows of 
 care and illness, which were not wholly thrown off 
 even with the vivacity of manner she now assumed. 
 Upon her slender and graceful neck turned a head of 
 peculiar distinction, the excellent shape of which her 
 dark-brown hair, in a simple knot at the back, well 
 became. Her voice was charmingly sweet, the
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 37 
 
 voice of Florence Lane of old, modified now by tones 
 of deeper meaning, derived from an eventful expe- 
 rience. 
 
 She had at times a harassing little cough, that 
 awakened the concern of the hearer. There was a 
 latent pathos in her smile, an elusiveuess in her 
 glance. The languor of weakness appeared in her 
 movements, and an impaired vitality in the touch of 
 her beautiful white hand. Her manner was refine- 
 ment itself, without a trace of stiffness. 
 
 " Fading, distinctly fading," said the visitor to him- 
 self ; " and at this age ! These are time's revenges 
 ah, but I did not wish to be revenged." 
 
 " Let me see," said Mrs. Varemberg, reflectively : 
 " the last I distinctly saw of you must have been when 
 you stopped at our chateau of Varemberg not very 
 long after my marriage." She slightly hesitated on 
 the last words, and Barclay winced. " Always impa- 
 tient, always full of the true American unrest ! The 
 place in itself was rambling and curious enough to 
 detain you a little longer ; but, no, nothing would 
 induce you to stay over more than a single train. 
 Since then, I fear I have scarcely even known whether 
 you were living or dead." 
 
 " And might one suppose that you had cared a 
 trifle ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, I will frankly admit that I cared. I 
 suppose yon have been practicing some one of your 
 learned professions, in the mean time, you had 
 more than one, and forgot all about us. When 
 did you leave New York ? "
 
 38 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 "I left Jerusalem, Calcutta, Cape Town, Tama- 
 tave, the isles of the sea, but not New York." 
 
 " I do not quite understand." 
 
 " I have been making a tour of the world for the 
 past four years, and am now on my way home." 
 
 ' You must have seen pretty much everything that 
 is rare and curious, in that time ? " 
 
 " I have been at some few out-of-the-way places, 
 sometimes so far from civilization as to know very 
 little of its doings. I cannot profess, even now, a 
 very exhaustive acquaintance with them." 
 
 There was some hidden meaning in this last, but 
 she did not yet know what it was. 
 
 " And this formidable air of man of the world, 
 with which you have come back, do I like it, or do 
 I not ? " she said, putting her head critically a little 
 on one side, in a playful way. " Yes, I think I do. 
 Do you mind my saying that ? " 
 
 " Not if you can conscientiously be so flattering." 
 
 " Oh, I can for once in a way." 
 
 " This is the second time to-day I have been re- 
 ferred to as a man of the world. I must get back my 
 natural look of student and recluse ; these false pre- 
 tenses will not do." 
 
 " You will never get it back again ; and you had 
 more of it, too, than you may think, for all of your 
 fling at it. It was a charming look Yes, you 
 have changed." 
 
 " Yes, I have changed," he admitted, and smiled 
 with a certain pleasure at the effectiveness of his new 
 panoply.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 39 
 
 " Who was the other that called you a man of the 
 world ? " 
 
 " A little Miss DeBow, whom I met on the 
 steamer." 
 
 " Ah, you came on the steamer, then ? " 
 
 " Did you not know it ? " 
 
 " How should I have known it ?" 
 
 " It was in the papers," he said simply. 
 
 " I do not always even read the papers ; I live so 
 quietly." 
 
 No further mention was made of the accident, and 
 it was not till later that she knew of it and its real 
 significance. She was thinking, too, of other things 
 in his regard, and yielded to the momentary inadver- 
 tence of a mind that, though perfectly courteous in 
 intent, has been a little strained and wearied. 
 
 " Miss Justine DeBow is one of our local beauties 
 of the younger generation, whom I observe from afar 
 off," she next said. " I believe she holds herself on 
 quite a high and peculiar pedestal of her own." 
 
 " On what does her unusual claim to distinction 
 rest, if one might inquire ? " 
 
 " Ah, that is it, she holds herself so, that is all. 
 When one makes claims of that kind, persistently 
 enough, one generally ends by getting them granted. 
 She has her little ambitions. Did she not treat you 
 very graciously ? She is by no means gracious to all, 
 I am told." 
 
 " I can hardly complain of my treatment." 
 
 " You are one of the kind she would naturally like. 
 Did you lose your heart to her ? You will be made
 
 -10 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 imidi of by all the Keewaydin belles, and notables of 
 t Vfi-y kind, if you will stay. Learned travelers and 
 ilHi'ttinit; are by no means common among us But 
 I forgot: probably there is a Mrs. Barclay, by this 
 time ? " 
 
 " There is no Mrs. Barclay." 
 
 The visitor mentally accused her of a lack of fine- 
 ness. This was not her natural manner, as he had 
 known it ; she seemed to have borrowed another for 
 the occasion, and from a stratum lower down. It 
 was well to skim over the surface of things, to pre- 
 tend that nothing of unusual moment had taken place 
 between them, and treat the past as irrevocably set- 
 tled ; that was what he had meant to do, that was 
 what he was doing. But need she have gone so far 
 out of her way to put her finger on a wound which, 
 for aught she knew, might still be open and bleed- 
 ing ? She was not supposed to know that it had en- 
 tirely healed. 
 
 " Then you will stay ? " she rattled on. " I assure 
 you, as a resident, that our city will feel only too 
 flattered to be added to your collection. May I ask 
 how it already answers to your expectations? " 
 
 " It could hardly have surpassed them ; the excep- 
 tional charms of Mrs. Varemberg had given me too 
 high an idea of it for that," he replied, with one of 
 those courtly-satirical bows used in this kind of par- 
 ley. " You may remember, in the old times, that I 
 always wanted to see it. I have relatives here, the 
 Thornbrooks. absent, by the way, just now, and 
 my father died here. But it is a matter of business
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 41 
 
 that brings me at present. I shall have to be off 
 again to Eau Claire and Marathon County, to-mor- 
 row. I may stop a few days, on my return, but even 
 that is uncertain." 
 
 " It was doubly good of you to come and find me, 
 under the circumstances. But tell me, lost so long 
 in the jungles of the antipodes as you were, how did 
 you know where I was ? How did you hear of me ?" 
 
 " I have to confess that I really knew much less 
 than you may suppose. I followed your name up the 
 river, on the revenue cutter, and the young girl I 
 have mentioned began to talk of Mrs. Varemberg." 
 
 *' And then you went over the list of V's, and said, 
 ' Dear me ! it seems as if I do remember knowing a 
 person of that name once.' " 
 
 " Yes, that is, naturally, what one would say." 
 
 Again the forced note, the slight jar on his sensibili- 
 ties. Was it bravado, was it defiance, lest he should 
 gloat over her sufferings ? For that she had suffered, 
 mentally and physically, no one could look at her and, 
 deny. Far, indeed, was it from him to think of gloat- 
 ing over her. He was grieved beyond measure at 
 her invalid aspect and the hint of her misfortunes he 
 had heard. He would once have given his life to 
 spare her uneasiness ; and nothing that had happened, 
 or could ever happen, could set aside the fundamen- 
 tal regard he had entertained for her, or replace it by 
 small personal pique. 
 
 He was facing his past, the central episode of his 
 existence, the woman who had disrupted his life, like 
 one of those cataclysms that leave nothing as it had
 
 42 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 previously stood. He had said long since, " It is for 
 the best. Everything that is is right ; " and he was 
 tempted to add to it now, " We would never have 
 done for each other. It is very clear." 
 
 When something terrible has happened to one in 
 this world, he does not necessarily go about rending 
 his garments and crying it at the top of his voice. 
 He need not do this even at the time of its occur- 
 rence ; still less when he has wholly recovered, and 
 feels himself reconciled to his fate. It was not that 
 Barclay had been formally jilted. He had not pro- 
 posed and been rejected in so many words ; pride, 
 diffidence, a multitude of circumstances, had pre- 
 vented that. But he had loved and lost the Florence 
 Lane whom he had described to Justine DeBow. He 
 had seen her become the wife of another, when he 
 thought she must have known of his own absorbing 
 devotion and desire to offer her his hand. His re- 
 mote visit to the chateau referred to had been an 
 attempt to harden himself to the sight of her new 
 happiness, a desperate remedy which he could not 
 endure. He had fled from it, and, unsettled in all his 
 habits, views, and plans, had begun desultory wander- 
 ings over the face of the earth, which had lasted till 
 now. 
 
 He had long since considered himself cured. He 
 felt quite callous to his pain, and cynically disposed 
 to make light of it as a small matter, something 
 very commonly happening to young men, and no 
 doubt wisely intended to give their sentimental na- 
 tures a proper exercise. It was probably better than
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 43 
 
 not for him to have gone through such an experi- 
 ence. 
 
 He had been uncertain, even, which hemisphere 
 contained her when he found her here. He said to 
 himself that, in this brief visit, he wante&only to see 
 how she looked ; what she had become ; how she. on 
 her side, had stood all these years and her altered 
 fate. There was pathos, it is true, in the fragment 
 of her story he had heard, and he was moved by it, 
 but, apart from this, he believed himself stirred by 
 no warmer motive than a calm, retrospective interest. 
 The interview was going to have a kind of pensive 
 luxury for him; he was going to conjure up a faint, 
 sweet spectre of his buried hopes. It would be like 
 tracing the path of some imminent danger he had 
 escaped, or walking, convalescent, on a battle-field 
 where he had been left for dead. 
 
 He had both a better opinion of himself than for- 
 merly, and a worse. He put down his slight feeling 
 of irritation, and said to her in effect, if not in so 
 many words, 
 
 " It was by no means a person to be regretted that 
 you have missed. I have had ample experience of 
 him in the mean time, and can speak with authority." 
 
 They began to chat of many common reminiscences 
 of their life abroad. A listener must have gathered 
 that they had once been on most excellent terms. 
 
 " Do you remember," Mrs. Varemberg asked, " our 
 rides in the forest of Saint Germain, how we used 
 to go out in our habits, dine at the Pavilion Henri 
 Quatre, and return on the top of the train ? "
 
 44 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " And do you remember," her companion rejoined, 
 "our evening at the fete foraine, on the exterior 
 boulevards ? " 
 
 Yes ; you had dined with us at the Legation, and 
 you made us go, on the pretext that it was ' local 
 color ' and characteristic foreign life. My poor aunt, 
 Mrs. Clinton, nearly caught her death of cold, with 
 your local color, and your tombolas, and the ' Four 
 Horrible Tortures ' " 
 
 " And the ' Bird Lottery,' and the ' Torpedo 
 Girl ' " 
 
 " And the ' Man of Fire.' ' Entrez, Mesdames et 
 Messieurs ! Moi, je suis 1'Homme du Feu,' " she 
 said, quoting. u ' Pas dix sous, pas huit sous ' " 
 
 " Pas six sous, not even five sons, only four 
 miserable sous, to come in and see the most 
 wonderful, the most incredible, phenomenon in the 
 world," added Barclay, promptly completing the jar- 
 gon. 
 
 " You were forever trying to drag us about to 
 some crumbly old ruin or other, or some impossible 
 rookery with a lot of queer people in it." 
 
 " I must do you the justice to say you did not al- 
 ways come." 
 
 " Of course I did not. I remember you always 
 picked out even your hotel by its picture, and would 
 rather have one that had been a mediaeval donjon 
 than another with the cuisine of a Vatel or Blot." 
 
 " You speak with the proper American contempt 
 of such things." 
 
 " Still, I shall never quite know how much yon
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 45 
 
 had to do with influencing my destiny, by inspiring 
 in me the same sort of unprofitable fancies." 
 
 She laughed, but her laugh was broken by the har- 
 assing cough. 
 
 Influencing her destiny ? Had he, then, ever in- 
 fluenced it in the slightest degree ? Ah, if she could 
 but know how she had influenced his ! As he sat 
 there, it gave him an involuntary thrill to look back 
 upon such an absolute waste and devastation. 
 
 " And now that you have returned to your native 
 land, no doubt you have some extraordinary avoca- 
 tion in view ? " 
 
 " None of the ordinary avocations greatly attract 
 me, to tell the truth. I do not seem to care much 
 for the honors they have to give, and I have money 
 enough for my moderate wants." 
 
 "Naturally, with your many opportunities for en- 
 joyment, you will avail yourself of them, and be a 
 man of leisure," Mrs. Varemberg amended, as in po- 
 lite deference to his probable intention. 
 
 " Why, no. I had thought of taking up some 
 form of business." 
 
 u Now it is you that are American, the greed 
 for gain, after all, ' the ruling passion strong in 
 death.' " 
 
 " Who was that celebrity," asked Barclay, ac- 
 knowledging this only by a smile of indulgence, " who 
 said that but for his accursed thirst for glory, how 
 contented he could be in private life ? " 
 
 " It was not /, at any rate, perhaps it was Fred- 
 erick the Great."
 
 46 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " Well, I am like him ; I have an ambitiou." 
 
 "Ah, he has an ambition/'^she repeated after him 
 in soft raillery. 
 
 " I wish to put in a stroke for the good of human- 
 ity." 
 
 " That is an ambition, indeed." 
 
 " Yes. How does something in the manufacturing 
 way strike you ? " 
 
 " Like Alice in Wonderland, I 'm afraid I don't 
 quite understand. Do you mean to manufacture some 
 article of such exceeding use that the whole level of 
 human comfort will be raised ? Let me see, it 
 will hardly be pianos ; perhaps it will be waffle-irons. 
 I am told that something of that kind is in great de- 
 mand." 
 
 " You are a scoffer ; the bears will some time come 
 out of the woods and eat you up. The fact is that I 
 have a certain interest in the working classes." 
 
 " Really ! " 
 
 " I fell in, on my travels, with a sage who interested 
 me in these questions." 
 
 Barclay went on to give some account of a man, 
 half dreamer, half keen, original thinker, whom he 
 had met with amid the orange groves of southern 
 California. He had already written a treatise that 
 had made a wide stir in the world ; and Barclay had 
 been admitted to his confidence while he was compos- 
 ing a new work. " He finds that poverty keeps pace 
 with progress, and is even promoted by it. Compe- 
 tition is forcing even the prudent and industrious to 
 take the bread out of one another's mouths. And,
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 47 
 
 on the surface, it all seems to be nobody's fault, only 
 the slow, grinding effect of natural Jaws." 
 
 " Your sage tells nothing we have not heard of be- 
 fore, it seems to me." 
 
 " No, but the difference is that he is hopeful about 
 it ; he thinks something can be done." 
 
 " I supposed it was a kind of dispensation of Prov- 
 idence ; that is the usual way of looking at it." 
 
 " I had rather not think so meanly of Providence. 
 I prefer to lay it to the greed and indifference of 
 men." 
 
 " And you are going to put your philosopher's rem- 
 edy into operation ? " 
 
 " Hardly that, though I believe I was almost a 
 convert to it once. It seems rather too simple and 
 straightforward to be true. It is state ownership of 
 the land and that sort of thing. My conservatism 
 got the upper hand ; I concluded only to be a fellow 
 investigator, and devote myself to finding out the con- 
 ditions of the problem, the problem of our age and 
 the immediate future." 
 
 " There are too many people, that is the trouble ; 
 I have heard it proved at my father's dinner-table." 
 
 " There are not too many people, and there never 
 will be till all the waste places of the earth are made 
 to blossom as the rose. Is there not created with 
 every mouth a pair of hands to feed it ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, it would seem reasonable to suppose 
 so." 
 
 " Every man's labor ought to add a value to every 
 other man's. Under a proper state of things, we
 
 4S THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 ought to look upon one another, even in the most 
 swarming crowds, with a friendly warmth, and con- 
 sider that we all directly benefit one another's exist- 
 ence. We should hear no more of the profane vul- 
 gar and of keeping them at a distance." 
 
 Nobody could have had a more pleasing modesty 
 than he in the statement of his views. There was 
 not a trace of the prig or egotist about him. At the 
 least sign of wearying the attention or appearing to 
 make high-flown pretensions, he was ready to stop, 
 turn aside, and laugh, even at himself. 
 
 " It sounds beautifully," said Mrs. Varemberg. 
 *' And how is this connected with your manufac- 
 tory ? " 
 
 " In an establishment of one's own, you know, he 
 can study the character, habits, needs, and possibili- 
 ties of his working people at first-hand ; he need no 
 longer hear them from demagogues or task-masters. 
 Some sort of political career might be the best way 
 of putting his information in practice. Why should 
 I not take a little different career from others, if I 
 choose ? Am I not one of the kind that can afford 
 it ? " he asked, as if defending himself. 
 
 " What will you do for me in your millennium ? " 
 his companion broke in. 
 
 " Anything that is possible. What shall it be ? " 
 
 "Ah, that is hard to say, unless it be to recom- 
 mend me a new doctor. Everybody recommends me 
 a new doctor ; it is really quite remiss in you not to 
 have done so already." 
 
 " Ah, you are not well ! " exclaimed Barclay, with
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 49 
 
 deep sympathy. " Let us talk no more of these va- 
 garies. Tell ine of yourself! What is the meaning 
 of this distressing cough ? " 
 
 " It is only a cold I took, at the theatre at Brus- 
 sels, and I do not seem to quite shake it off. It may 
 have touched some pulmonary organ a little. But 
 it is not an interesting subject." 
 
 " You must be cured ; this will not do." 
 
 " Then there is need of the physician who can 
 ' minister to a mind diseased.' " 
 
 It was the first reference to her troubles. 
 
 " I feel awkwardly in speaking of it," said Barclay, 
 hesitating, " but may I say how pained and shocked 
 I have been to hear of the unfortunate circumstance, 
 of the the termination of " 
 
 " Oh, do not think I complain," she rejoined has- 
 tily. " Having chosen one kind of life, why should 
 I find fault because it is not another ? " 
 
 "I find it hard to understand. You seemed so 
 adapted to each other, you seemed so content with 
 him." 
 
 " He lost his money, and I left him," said Mrs. 
 Varemberg, looking at her visitor fixedly. 
 
 " What ! " he cried, incredulous. 
 
 " Did he not promise to endow me with all his 
 worldly goods, and if he had none why should I have 
 stayed with him ? " 
 
 This was clearly perversity. No really mercenary 
 nature would accuse itself thus openly of its base- 
 ness. But was there, too, an atom of truth in it ? 
 Had she become mainly hard and flippant, taken all
 
 50 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 the worse instead of the better turnings, and suc- 
 cumbed to a thorough-going worldliness, concerning 
 which, he remembered, he had once entertained mis- 
 givings? Or was this but the pathetic bravado of 
 one who would not display her sufferings? He was 
 puzzled, and could not determine. 
 
 " Ton have changed, too," he sighed. 
 
 " How ? " she asked, prepared to receive a serious 
 answer. 
 
 But he thought best to turn it aside lightly 
 with, 
 
 " Oh, in your liking for personal ornaments. 
 * Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,' " he 
 quoted. " Once your taste was simplicity itself ; jew- 
 elry was your pet aversion." 
 
 " It is my poor attempt to conceal the ravages of 
 time," she replied, clasping again the bangle with its 
 tinkling ornaments. She had seized it in a nervous 
 way, at the last moment, as she came down. " The 
 years are passing, my friend." 
 
 They had risen, and made a few steps towards the 
 door, when a noise drew Mrs. Varemberg's attention 
 to the library, adjoining. 
 
 " Papa," she called, awaiting the answer in a lis- 
 tening attitude, " this is Mr. Barclay. Will you not 
 come and see him ? " 
 
 She went to the portiere which separated the rooms, 
 and drew it aside. 
 
 David Lane was there, stock still, but he now 
 moved a little towards them. He looked old and 
 broken; his face was phenomenally seamed with
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 51 
 
 wrinkles. He almost glared at Barclay, and breathed 
 in stertorous fashion. 
 
 " You are quite well, I trust ? " he said, in a stiff, 
 formal way. " It is many years since we last met 
 you." 
 
 He had risen but now from his meditations over 
 the evening paper. The journal still lay as it had 
 fallen from his hand on a richly-draped table, by which 
 stood his chair, protected from draughts by a high, 
 folding screen. 
 
 There was also present an elderly lady, Mrs. Clin- 
 ton, David Lane's sister, the manager of his house- 
 hold. She was dressed in some sort of durable black 
 stuff, after her usual custom. She had a buxom fig- 
 ure, a peculiarly florid complexion, and a good deal of 
 " manner," as the saying is. She would beam sud- 
 denly on her visitor as if overjoyed, but the next 
 moment this rapture was apt to die out and leave a 
 certain blankness, as if she had already forgotten his 
 existence. She was a mistress of all the arts of rou- 
 tine, a person of good judgment in the more ordinary 
 affairs of life, but without any marked individuality, 
 and she remained as she began, a figure of minor im- 
 portance in these affairs. 
 
 How well Barclay remembered the last meeting 
 with David Lane at Paris ! His brief retrospect took 
 in substance the following form : 
 
 " I went to him for counsel, in my distracted state. 
 I had met his daughter in the heyday of her youth 
 and beauty. She had a prestige in two hemispheres. 
 Suitors of title and fortune had offered themselves.
 
 52 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 The great Bradbrook himself, reputed for his eccen- 
 tricity and his millions, had come over expressly from 
 New York in his own yacht to win her, and been re- 
 jected. She gave me her friendship, happy that I 
 was ! and next, I aspired to nothing less than her- 
 self, dazzling though her prospects were. I was then 
 self-critical, self-torturing, full of scruples, squeam- 
 ishness, and an unpractical reverence. I saw in her 
 every excellent quality of head and heart, and her 
 beauty possessed me with a perfect madness. How 
 well and strong, how lithe and round and fine at 
 every point, she was ! How her white teeth sparkled ! 
 What a fascinating malice in her smile, innocent, 
 nevertheless, of conscious guile ! The siren had 
 sung to me, and my bones were bound to bleach on 
 the shores of her island. I harrowed my soul with 
 devices for testing her favor. Now I said, ' She loves 
 me.' Now, ' She loves me not.' In despair, I flew 
 at last to her father, and asked his good offices. 
 
 " ' Do not for one moment think of it ! ' he replied. 
 'You will but incur the pain of a certain refusal. I 
 can now speak only vaguely, but she is not free. 
 Other views are entertained for her, and I beg you, 
 as a gentleman, to do nothing to embarrass a course 
 that is in accord both with her own inclinations and 
 her best good and happiness.' 
 
 " These ' other views ' must have been Varemberg. 
 I had no idea that he had already made such headway 
 in her affections. He was of brilliant parts, a hand- 
 some presence, and at home in all the usages of so- 
 ciety. He seemed to amuse her. She had met him
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 53 
 
 with her father in their travels, and been entertained 
 by him at his quaint, time-honored chateau. They 
 had met, also, at the court of Berliu, a sister of his, 
 married to a chief lord in waiting, and this proud 
 dame, an associate of all the Radziwills, the Hatz- 
 felds, the Trachenbergs, and princes of Thurn and 
 Taxis, had, no doubt, contributed to her bedazzle- 
 ment. This match was pushed rapidly forward. 
 As in a kind of paralysis, I stood and saw it go on. 
 Surely she must have known my feelings towards 
 her. she must have heard from her father what I had 
 said to him." 
 
 " Mr. Barclay has magnificent ideas," explained 
 Mrs. Varemberg to the others ; " he is going to re- 
 form the universe." 
 
 " There is so much questioning now of all that 
 custom had considered once settled," sighed her aunt 
 drearily. 
 
 " Perhaps some divine rights of custom will have 
 to go, like the divine right of kings," rejoined the 
 new humanitarian. 
 
 " I 'm afraid you are rather dangerous," com- 
 mented the aunt, casting at him a look of certain sus- 
 picion. 
 
 This good lady herself did not indulge in drollery, 
 and comprehended only the most conventional aspect 
 of things. 
 
 "Oh, he is dangerous," insisted Mrs. Varemberg: 
 " he thinks there ought to be charities to keep people 
 out of the gutter, instead of lifting them when they
 
 54 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 are in it. And the worst of it is, he has all but 
 brought me around to the same way of thinking." 
 
 " My brother," said Mrs. Clinton, " has done a good 
 deal in that way, by means of his public library, in- 
 dustrial schools, and the like." 
 
 David Lane had taken but small part in the con- 
 versation ; he appeared preoccupied, and watched the 
 young man in a keen, nervous way, apart. With a 
 final civil commonplace or two to the visitor, he with- 
 drew, and Mrs. Clinton, summoned by some house- 
 hold care, soon followed him. 
 
 " I never quite get over the impression that your 
 father does not like me," said Barclay. 
 
 " Why should he not ? " 
 
 " How can I tell ? I have felt this adverse influ- 
 ence when near him, and yet he has done me many 
 favors when at a distance. It puzzles me." 
 
 " He has the best heart in the world. Allow us 
 our little eccentricities." 
 
 There stood a large geographical globe in the 
 room. Placing a hand upon it, Mrs. Varemberg re- 
 volved it, nonchalantly, and said, 
 
 " Show me where you have been ! " 
 
 Barclay pointed out a few of the places of his more 
 remote expeditions. He said he had at one time 
 thought of mining in South Africa; and again, of 
 planting coffee in Mexico ; and again, sugar in the 
 Sandwich Islands. 
 
 " But you came back, after all." 
 
 * Why, yes, I came back. This is the field for 
 new experiments, this is the country of the future."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 55 
 
 " I do not quite understand your interest in the 
 working classes. Why should a young man of f5r- 
 tune bother his head about the working classes ? " 
 
 Barclay could not tell her his true motive. It was 
 not in order; it would now, probably, never be in 
 order. He could not say to her that the pain she 
 had made him suffer had softened, not hardened, his 
 heart, and turned him to observing the miseries of 
 others. If he had formulated his motto, it might 
 have been, " Taught by misfortune, I pity the un- 
 happy." 
 
 The interview was now at an end. Barclay's im- 
 agination sighed over this lost love of his more than 
 he had deemed possible. It was all just as he had 
 expected, but he had not meant his philosophy to 
 be so much disturbed. He wished he had not to go 
 away and leave her thus suffering; then he should 
 have been much easier in his mind. 
 
 " Good-by," he said. 
 
 " Good-by," said Mrs. Varemberg. " You have 
 drawn me out of myself ; you have been a distrac- 
 tion to me. Sometimes I scarcely see a living soul 
 from one month's end to another. Now I shall re- 
 turn to my medicine-bottles with a new zest." 
 
 And she rounded out with a smile of latent pa- 
 thos a poor fiction, as if her illness were really one 
 of the most agreeable things in the world. 
 
 David Lane, meanwhile, had gone to his chamber, 
 and sat down, in deep melancholy, by a window that 
 commanded a view of the Golden Justice afar. Even
 
 56 TI1E GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 at night some wandering gleams of radiance sought 
 hSr out, and it was rare that she was not visible. 
 
 " She does not forget," he muttered ; " she is still 
 waiting for me." 
 
 What fatal portent is it that brings this young 
 man here?" he said, again. 
 
 Some hours later, when the house was dark and 
 presumably sunk in slumber, he made his way along 
 the wide halls, and knocked at the door of his daugh- 
 ter's chamber. 
 
 " Are you well ? Are you warm enough ? " he 
 asked. " I was afraid the furnace was not working 
 as it should." 
 
 Receiving replies in the affirmative, he added, as if 
 by the way, in turning to depart, 
 
 - Will this young Mr. Barclay stay long in the 
 place ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, he is only passing through ; he goes to- 
 morrow." 
 
 With this, he went back, easier in his mind, to his 
 own apartment, to seek the repose that had fled from 
 his pillow.
 
 IV. 
 
 A TRUER PICTURE OF MRS. VAREMBERG. 
 
 PAUL BARCLAY departed, next day, on his journey 
 to the upper part of the State, as he had proposed. 
 On his return, he found himself detained at Keeway- 
 din rather longer than he had expected. The scheme 
 of establishing a colony on his lands in Marathon 
 County had much taken his fancy ; he closed with ail 
 offer made him, and was obliged to wait for and con- 
 fer more or less with the leading parties to the trans- 
 action. Then there were new adjustments to make 
 in regard to his city property, now that he had taken 
 the management of it into his own hands ; and there 
 was Maxwell. Maxwell, half forgotten meantime, 
 but by no means himself forgetful, had prepared a 
 written statement, carefully carried out in detail, dis- 
 playing the condition and prospects of the Stamped- 
 Ware Works, and had been several times to his hotel 
 in his absence to seek him. The rescued manufac- 
 turer talked a great deal, with a warm enthusiasm 
 natural to him, and finally induced Barclay to go 
 down to the factory and look at it for himself. 
 
 " It needs only a little more money," he said, " to 
 set all these wheels going again to their utmost ca- 
 pacity. Supposing, merely for the sake of the argu- 
 ment," he suggested in fine, " that you should feel
 
 58 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 disposed to join us, and put in the mortgage you hold 
 on the concern as your share of the capital : why, 
 that alone would float us, and a most profitable fu- 
 ture would be insured." 
 
 Curiously enough, Barclay was rather impressed, 
 in the sequel, with the representations made him, and 
 thought good to advise upon this, together with some 
 other of his affairs, with his relative Thornbrook, who 
 had been au excellent and conservative man of busi- 
 ness in his day. 
 
 " It looks well, in some aspects very well," said 
 Thornbrook. " If you could stay here and look after 
 such an enterprise, or personally take a hand in it, I 
 should see no objection to it at all ; but to go away, 
 and leave it behind you as a mere investment in the 
 charge of. another person, is a very different matter, 
 and that I should by no means recommend." 
 
 The unforeseen duration of Barclay's stay in the 
 place made it incumbent on him, or at least furnished 
 him an excellent reason, to renew his visits to Mrs. 
 Varemberg. With his limited acquaintanceship, and 
 the but slight demands on his time in the hours when 
 he was not engaged in his business matters, it would 
 have been strange indeed if he had not gone to in- 
 quire again after her health ; he assured himself that 
 it would not have been even civil not to do so. 
 
 Mrs. Varemberg welcomed him in pleasant sur- 
 prise, and showed a friendly interest in all -his re- 
 cent doings. Her father, she said, was absent at the 
 East ; he had been called away, and would not return 
 for a month.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 59 
 
 Under her encouragement, Barclay described his 
 journey at full length. All his knocking about the 
 world and his trying experiences had not yet spoiled 
 a receptive and impressionable nature, nor made him 
 a blase traveler. He had still a large fund of freshness 
 and could be depended on to find almost everywhere 
 even in places the most unpromising some en- 
 tertaining or picturesque feature or novel matter for 
 reflection. On the present occasion, he went on to 
 speak of the high and healthy farming region he had 
 traversed ; of the hardy, thriving inhabitants ; of vil- 
 lages of polyglot foreigners, Germans, Scandinavians, 
 Dutch, Poles, and Swiss, keeping up their own man- 
 ners and customs and languages ; of the sturdy lum- 
 bermen, rafting their logs down the swift Chippewa 
 and Wisconsin to the Mississippi ; and of the un- 
 broken forests of his own remote domain. He had 
 come upon a pretty spot that had once been picked 
 out by an eccentric Prince Paul of Wiirtemberg to 
 be the retreat of his old age ; and, again, an Indian 
 reservation, where the wrinkled old chief, Yellow 
 Thunder, squatted and sunned himself at his wigwam 
 door, like some archaic image in bronze. 
 
 All this he told her, with a certain enthusiasm and 
 a vivid way he had of making the most of small de- 
 tails when he chose to exercise it ; but he did not tell 
 her how much she had filled his thoughts in the mean 
 time. Some notion of offering himself as a medium 
 in effecting a reconciliation between her and her hus- 
 band had even floated vaguely through his brain. 
 For his part, he recollected Varemberg as a very
 
 60 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 pleasant fellow. Varemberg had endeavored, in those 
 times, to he particularly civil to him; and though he 
 could not accept these overtures, it was a date when 
 he had been easily touched by kindness, and he cher- 
 ished a grateful remembrance of them. He knew 
 that these domestic ruptures are too often but the 
 result of some wretched misunderstanding, trivial in 
 the beginning, and widened to a tragic gulf by willful- 
 ness and lack of judgment on both sides. There were 
 such cases, at least, whether this were one of them 
 or not, and a sympathetic mediator, acting with pru- 
 dence, might do a great deal towards repairing them. 
 
 He made bis first suggestions, however, in regard 
 to her health. Some remedies that had proved bene- 
 ficial in cases rather like hers occurred to him, and he 
 ventured to recommend them to her. He recom- 
 mended also exercise ; he was a great believer in it on 
 his own account, had always much to say in its favor, 
 and was inclined to regard motion as the sovereign 
 panacea. 
 
 " If you only keep moving actively enough," said 
 he, " the reaper Death, who goes but a hobbling gait 
 with his scythe, will have a long chase, and hard 
 work to catch up with you." 
 
 No doubt he was rather unpractical in some of 
 his ideas. Mrs. Varemberg smiled at propositions 
 offered by his robust physique to hers, but she con- 
 ceded somewhat to his theory by saying with a cer- 
 tain bravado, 
 
 " Illness, after all, is the only real misfortune." 
 
 Barclay showed a considerable bent towards taking
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 61 
 
 charge of things, and had the limit of his proposed 
 stay permitted he would perhaps have endeavored to 
 take charge of her, in this particular direction. 
 
 When he came to trench, delicately, on the subject 
 of her domestic unhappiness, she adhered to the same 
 tone of audacious flippancy she had adopted at first ; 
 she seemed to take a perverse pleasure in trying to 
 put herself before him in the worst possible light. 
 
 " By your own showing," said he lightly, availing 
 himself of the license she thus gave him, " we must 
 admit you have treated Varemberg rather badly." 
 
 " Of course I have treated him badly. Has it taken 
 you all this time to arrive at that brilliant conclu- 
 sion?" 
 
 She was certainly amusing in this mood, if it were 
 taken entirely from the worldly point of view, but 
 Barclay went away from these interviews with doubt 
 and sadness in his heart. It was the devastation of 
 an exceptionally fine character that he seemed to 
 witness ; the searing over of tender sensibilities, in 
 the loss of which no delicate moral nature could sur- 
 vive. 
 
 But he was shortly to be undeceived. He sat on 
 one of the cushioned sofas in the lobby of his hotel, 
 where a business acquaintance had just left him, and 
 was occupied with a paper, when he heard himself 
 hailed in a hearty way. Looking up, he saw an old 
 acquaintance. 
 
 It was Ives Wilson, the chief editor of the Index. 
 
 Barclay had found cards of this gentleman left for 
 him on two successive occasions. Ives Wilson bus-
 
 62 TIJE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 tied out from a little group standing by the elevator 
 shaft, and shook hands with him in a vigorous, pump- 
 handle fashion, still keeping hold of the arm of a third 
 party, whom he dragged forward with him, and in- 
 troduced, as if he did not consider it fair to abandon 
 one friend without giving him the advantage of the 
 acquaintance of another. This was Lieutenant Gregg, 
 and it seemed that he was a regular boarder at this 
 same hotel when he was ashore. Lieutenant Gregg 
 was a somewhat awkward, diffident man, not fluent 
 iu conversation. He had come up from a low origin, 
 made his own very good position entirely for himself, 
 and was not as fully at home in all the minor social 
 observances as he would no doubt finally become. 
 He stayed but a few moments, withdrawing after 
 the exchange of some sentences about the tugboat 
 explosion. 
 
 " You had a close call, that day," said he admiringly. 
 
 " It would have suited me much better to make 
 my debut like an ordinary private citizen," responded 
 Barclay. 
 
 " Well," began Ives Wilson, when Gregg had gone, 
 " I had about given you up ; I never expected to find 
 you." Then, seating himself comfortably, "A lit- 
 tle different this from old Andover, eh ? Ton have 
 n't changed much, though. Here you are, as large 
 as life and twice as natural." 
 
 They had been schoolmates, in the remote past, at 
 one of the large preparatory schools of New England, 
 arid might have met once or twice since, yet Ives 
 Wilson inclined to presume upon this as if it had 
 been friendship of the most intimate sort.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 63 
 
 He seemed a person so permeated with his profes- 
 sion that it showed all over him ; left tangible signs 
 upon him, just as the shoemaker has a particular 
 stoop, the hod-carrier one shoulder higher than the 
 other, and the baker his hands calloused in a certain 
 way. It was perhaps the great nervous energy by 
 which he was characterized that had left so little flesh 
 on his bones. He was dressed neither well nor very 
 ill. When he took off his easy felt hat you might 
 have seen his hair bristling and awry. From the 
 apex of his head waved back one particularly rebellious 
 lock, which had served as a sort of oriflamme in many 
 a political convention and the like. In other respects, 
 when you came to know about him, language seemed 
 to be for him only an ingenious medium to juggle 
 with ; the severest allegations had for him no real 
 and lasting significance, but only served his tempo- 
 rary purpose. All, or nearly all, with him, was pro- 
 fessional ; the individual, or private, aspect of his life 
 but a very small fraction. He was regarded in some 
 quarters, whither his interference and powers of in- 
 vective had been particularly directed, as a monster 
 of ferocity ; but in reality nobody was less ferocious 
 than he. He would have shaken hands the next mo- 
 ment with the most roundly abused of his opponents, 
 had the human nature in the rest of the community 
 been like his own. In strictly private life he did 
 many amiable things, for which he did not always get 
 the credit that was his due. 
 
 Paul Barclay had the standing interest in human 
 nature that made him, up to a certain point, well
 
 64 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 within the limits of boredom, an excellent listener. 
 Added to this, perhaps unconsciously, was the quest 
 for the unexpected, the possible novel revelation, 
 from some unforeseen quarter, that might have a for- 
 tunate bearing on his own destiny. He was rather 
 fond of letting people exhibit themselves. It was no 
 hardship for him, therefore, to let Ives Wilson go on, 
 as the latter was disposed to do. He gave an ac- 
 count of his migration to the West, his various strug- 
 gles and successes, and his rise to his present exalted 
 position. The history included the late establish- 
 ment of an evening edition of the Index. " We had 
 to give the papers away at first, and then go into the 
 streets and buy them ourselves," said he ; " but now 
 they go off like hot cakes." 
 
 He explained the rules he bad adopted for the guid- 
 ance of his paper, and laid down, ex cathedra, the im- 
 mutable laws of journalism. 
 
 " Always have somebody to abuse ; hit hard and 
 hit all the time," said he ; " have at least one new 
 sensation every day. You, for instance, were a god- 
 send to us, the day you were all but blown up by the 
 tug. Never back down ; support the paradox, or the 
 unexpected, people are sure to come round to you 
 in time ; and claim to be infallible," he concluded. 
 
 " If you are going in for infallibility, why not earn 
 it by avoiding the errors instead of glorying in them ? " 
 suggested Barclay. " And then, all this bragging, 
 is it strictly necessary ? It sometimes seems as if a 
 newspaper expected to flourish on everything a gen- 
 tleman would not want to do."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 65 
 
 " Good ! " exclaimed Ives Wilson. " There 's a 
 point in that for our first column paragraphs. But 
 it 's clear you don't speak from practical experience. 
 Readers expect a journal to have a proper respect for 
 itself; and there is nothing so fatal as backing down. 
 Readers don't want it ; readers don't understand it ; 
 they won't have it. No, sir, the Index has stood 
 more than one libel suit rather than back down, and 
 it proposes to stand plenty more." 
 
 No one, apparently, could have been less offended 
 by an onslaught on his favorite views than Ives Wil- 
 son ; on the contrary, he welcomed it with jovial 
 cheerfulness, and made a hasty note of it, as above, 
 for use in his paper. 
 
 " If any of our men could have found you in time, 
 the day of your arrival, we should have had at least 
 a half column more about the accident, an inter- 
 view, you know." 
 
 " Oh, I assure you, I am quite as well content." 
 
 " You may, or may not, have noticed how well that 
 report was done," continued the editor, airing a tech- 
 nical pride ; " how spreadingly, if I may coin a word, 
 and how fully, for an afternoon paper. A few more 
 little things like that will put the evening edition 
 where we want it. It was a big ' scoop ' even on the 
 morning papers. The full reprint we gave of all the 
 particulars connected with your father's death left 
 them hardly anything to say. All they could do was 
 copy from us. It gave me a chance, too, to put in 
 a good word for a man that I always like to oblige 
 when it comes in my way, David Lane. He
 
 66 TEE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 showed up well in that affair, trying to work the 
 bridge, and so on, and I guess he was glad to have 
 us remember it. They say the Index is hard on its 
 enemies ; well, it 's good to its friends, whenever they 
 give it an opportunity." 
 
 " David Lane is fortunate, as a politician, to stand 
 so well with the press," said Barclay tentatively. 
 
 " Oh, if / had money, / 'd have a reputation from 
 here to Timbuctoo. I 'd just lay out a little sum an- 
 nually on the papers, liberal advertising, special 
 articles, and that sort of thing, and they 'd look 
 after me ; see ? It need n't cost a great deal, either. 
 But this is not a case in point. Lane is not in poli- 
 tics now ; he 's had the best of everything, and there 
 is n't anything else that could tempt him. Besides, 
 he has a genuine record, that does n't need any puff- 
 ing ; he was one of the best officials ever known in 
 these parts."' 
 
 " And it is on his own merits you praise him ? " 
 
 " Yes, and because he gave me a lift when I was 
 starting in the management of the paper. I don't 
 mind telling you that he held stock in my name, so I 
 could control the leading interest. Oh, yes, the In- 
 dex stands by David Lane, every time." 
 
 The editor discoursed further of his patron, touched 
 lightly on the business matters with which he occu- 
 pied himself now that he was out of public life, and 
 finally of Mrs. Varemberg. Barclay had felt, with 
 inward agitation, that this topic was approaching. 
 
 ' Here is a man," he had reflected, " who, with the 
 least encouragement in the world, will speak freely of
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 67 
 
 her. It is his business to be a repository of informa- 
 tion, and he will know all that has been said and all 
 that can be known about her." 
 
 Up to this time he had learned no more of her 
 affairs than on the first day of his arrival ; he had 
 asked no one about her, sought no information, but, 
 on the contrary, scrupulously refrained from it. He 
 shrank from discussing her sorrows with an outsider 
 almost as a species of desecration, and how much 
 more so when it promised but to make a certainty of 
 the vague, disagreeable imputations she had cast upon 
 herself ! His way of thinking had not changed, but 
 now, as in a sort of spell, he sat and listened to com- 
 ments nonchalantly volunteered without a word of in- 
 vitation from himself, and even against an effort he 
 made to turn them aside. 
 
 " His daughter, Mrs. Varemberg, is a mighty fine 
 woman, a lovely woman ; she is one that was born 
 to shine," said Ives Wilson. " It 's a pity all this 
 trouble of hers seems to keep her from taking the 
 place that rightfully belongs to her." 
 
 Upon a word or two further, the early reluctance 
 of the listener was turned to an eager thirst for en- 
 lightenment. It proved to be no tale of cynical 
 heartlessness he was called upon to hear, but one 
 that had imposed a tone of sympathy and respect 
 even upon the careless tongue of public gossip. 
 
 " Her husband was one of the greatest villains 
 unhung," said Ives Wilson. " Lane told me a little 
 about it, at the time, but it was naturally a subject on 
 which he would n't want to talk much."
 
 G8 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " And Varemberg treated her badly ? " 
 
 " He did pretty much everything but kill her out- 
 right." 
 
 " That polished, entertaining Varemberg ? " mut- 
 tered Barclay, in wonderment ; but the other went 
 on, not heeding him. 
 
 " He had a devilish disposition that you would n't 
 find again in a million times. He had made a very 
 plausible show in the beginning, it seems, but he soon 
 dropped that, and went from bad to worse, till there 
 was no living with him." 
 
 " I had a vague impression, from st>me source, that 
 that the difficulty was of a financial sort." 
 
 "Varemberg never had any money to speak of; 
 he was tangled up in every direction, and relied upon 
 what he got with her to straighten him out a little. 
 When he had made away with that, he took to reck- 
 less courses that got him into trouble, put other 
 people's signatures to paper, and finally had to 
 leave his country for his country's good. He dropped 
 out of sight entirely, and at one time they thought 
 he was dead ; but he turns up again every once in a 
 while, and whenever they hear of him it is in some 
 new deviltry." 
 
 " He does not dare come here ? " And the ques- 
 tioner's eye flashed fire. 
 
 " Oh, no, that would be a little too brazen ; he 
 would hardly try that, I think, where she is so well 
 protected. Added to which, he has nothing to gain 
 by it." 
 
 " It was not she who left him, then ? "
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 69 
 
 " Very far from it. As I have said, he ran away ; 
 he left her behind him, the prey of his angry credit- 
 ors, in a gloomy old rookery of a chateau. She was 
 moping herself to death, when her father came and 
 took her away. She was ashamed of her situation 
 and tried to conceal it, and it was more by accident 
 than her own disclosure that it got out. I happened 
 to see her when she first got home ; you would hardly 
 have expected her to live a month." 
 
 " I suppose there are divorce proceedings pend- 
 ing ? " threw out Paul Barclay in a nonchalant way. 
 
 " Why, no, not at all ; and it 's singular, too, when 
 you come to think about it. They say she does n't 
 believe in it ; they say she 'd stand almost anything 
 rather than resort to that." 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " Bah ! life is too short not to take advantage of 
 all the opportunities it affords. I wish it were my 
 say whether a divorce should be got or not, that 's 
 all," concluded the editor vigorously. 
 
 In the course of this talk, Ives Wilson asked Bar- 
 clay questions, in a casual way, on a variety of sub- 
 jects, to which replies were as easily returned. All 
 was grist that came to the journalistic mill, and most 
 of this appeared in next day's Index, in the form of 
 the conventional "interview." It was meant to be, 
 and no doubt was, a considerable tribute to Barclay's 
 importance. It was written in the form of question 
 and answer. He was represented as a world-wide 
 traveler, an Eastern capitalist, temporarily sojourn- 
 ing at the Telson House. His views of Keewaydin
 
 70 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 and the State were given. He was made -to speak in 
 a very eulogistic way of Keewaydin, and to foresee 
 a grand future for it. And finally this thrown in 
 quite gratuitously he was said to favor the Index's 
 candidate for governor. 
 
 Barclay next brought up the name of Mrs. Varem- 
 berg before his relatives the Thornbrooks, and led 
 them, as discreetly as possible, to speak of her. With 
 beating heart he listened to what they could recall of 
 her history. They spoke in a sedate and measured 
 way, with the cool pulses of their age, and their feel- 
 ing, as far as they understood the case, was wholly 
 in her favor. 
 
 It happened that there came in, the same evening, 
 still another person, who added emphatic testimony 
 of the same kind. This was Mrs. Miltimorc, the 
 principal of the seat of learning locally esteemed of 
 an august character, the Keewaydiu Female Insti- 
 tute. Old Mr. Thornbrook, it appeared, was the 
 president of its board of trustees. 
 
 " Florence Varemberg, or Florence Lane," said 
 this lady, turning to Barclay, with a certain stiff man- 
 ner of her calling, " was our favorite pupil and a 
 great credit to us, in her time. She was a lovely 
 character, as lovely in mind as in person ; and no 
 matter what may happen, I never have believed, and 
 never shall believe, anything ill of her." 
 
 " The separation, then, is not to be regarded as her 
 own fault ? " 
 
 "Her own fault? If there ever was a cruelly 
 wronged woman in the world, it is Florence Varem- 
 berg."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 71 
 
 With how different a feeling did Barclay now has- 
 ten back to the object of his interest. How callow 
 and besotted must he be, how prone to bad motives 
 himself, since he was so ready to credit them in oth- 
 ers ! He had been all but persuaded of the truth of 
 her assumed venality and heartlessness. He looked 
 at her with new eyes, but carefully refrained from 
 any change in his manner that should betray to her 
 the new light of which he was in possession. 
 
 They made two or three brief excursions together, 
 about the town and environs. Mrs. Varemberg drove 
 him in her own phaeton. She assumed the duty of 
 hospitality. 
 
 " You are the stranger within our gates," said she, 
 " and, in my father's absence, I must see that you are 
 not neglected. You must be shown the points of 
 view on which Keewaydin rests her claim to emi- 
 nence." 
 
 She had a pair of large, well-broken horses, Castor 
 and Pollux, in whom she took a friendly interest, as 
 she seemed to do in pets of almost any kind. Cas- 
 tor and Pollux were fortunate enough to have a per- 
 sonal visit from her sometimes in their stable, and 
 she, had them brought to her nearly every day, and 
 daintily fed them lumps of sugar, from the porch, with 
 her own hand. 
 
 She drove Barclay first to a little park, a grassy 
 esplanade, on the margin of the more fashionable res- 
 idence part of the town, with steep, neatly turfed 
 bank extending down to the water's edge. It af- 
 forded a most charming prospect, with a great sense
 
 72 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 of openness and light, over the wide expanse of Lake 
 Michigan. Keewaydin was seen, hence, to spread 
 out thickly along the central shore of a great bay, 
 curved like a not too tautly bent bow. There were 
 the two long breakwater piers, with their small light- 
 houses on the ends. High on the bluff, far to the 
 northward, was a larger light-house, and behind it 
 the great green slope of a reservoir, resembling a for- 
 tification. Southward, the most prominent feature, 
 amid thick-clustering roofs, was the shining tin spires 
 of the Polish church of St. Stanislaus. Then, details 
 fading into indefmiteness, and long lines of black 
 smoke drifting seaward from the blast-furnaces of 
 the suburb of Bay View. 
 
 " It is magnificent, magnificent ! " pronounced the 
 young man, drawing a deep breath of satisfaction at 
 the sight. " Here is a place to exclaim, like the 
 Greeks of old Xenophon, ' Thalatta! thalatta!'. It 
 is very like the sea, your lake." 
 
 " But more cruel and treacherous, somehow ; we 
 live by it, but never seem to get very well acquainted 
 with it. A man could be chilled to death, in its cold 
 waters, even in midsummer." 
 
 " Are you not going to astonish me with some state- 
 ments about the place where we now stand having 
 lately been a howling wilderness ? I have been led 
 to suppose that was the Western custom, and I miss 
 it." 
 
 " The place where we now stand was all simple 
 bluff, and forest, and tamarack swamp, say thirty 
 or forty years ago. A hardy French trapper came
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 73 
 
 along and built a block-house here, to trade peltries 
 with the Indians, and behold Keewaydin ! " 
 
 " And he married the Indian princess, of course, 
 the last of her race ? " 
 
 "No, the engagement must have been broken off. 
 Princess Pearl Feather came to make a very unro- 
 mantic figure about the streets of Keewaydin, in her 
 last days ; she took to drink and died in the county 
 poor-house." 
 
 " Alas, our fond illusions ! .But I don't quite be- 
 lieve this is real, you know," he went on ; " it may 
 give us the slip. To one accustomed to the Eastern 
 way, a city like this, solidly built as it appears, is 
 suspiciously like Jonah's gourd. At the East it takes 
 the procession a couple of hundred years to pass a 
 given point, as it were, and then it never reaches it." 
 
 " Will you believe there were once such fierce 
 jealousies between the different divisions of the town 
 that the West Side cut down the only bridge unit- 
 ing it with the East Side, and planted a cannon to 
 prevent its being rebuilt ? " 
 
 " I will try and do so, for this once, if you will 
 tell me further what it was all about." 
 
 " They thought there never could be settlers enough 
 for both, and, as the boat from Buffalo landed on their 
 side, they wanted to keep a monopoly of the new ar- 
 rivals." 
 
 But now the thriving city stretched for long miles 
 on either side of its petty dividing stream, which 
 seemed a mere canal. The once envious West Side 
 climbed, in long lines of compact streets, to a consid-
 
 74 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 erable rising ground. Our friends mounted thither, 
 and looked back from the heights at the spires of the 
 section they had left, the dome of the city hall, 
 with its figure, most prominent among them, cut 
 out in a strongly serrated edge against the lake, which 
 gleamed behind them like a strip of silver. On their 
 return, they came to the city hall, in its quiet, grassy 
 square. 
 
 "Here is our Plaza, Place d'Armes, Piazza, 
 the focus of the civic life of a mighty past of thirty- 
 five years," said Mrs. Varemberg, in lively travesty 
 of the descriptions of foreign market-places. 
 
 " I know it already ; the Thornbrooks live over 
 there," said Barclay. Pie indicated, with a gesture, 
 a large, comfortable-looking house, with a consider- 
 able space of door-yard before it. " But as to tradi- 
 tions, associations, is n't it really heart-breaking, now, 
 that the central square of a populace of more than one 
 hundred thousand souls, should be utterly without 
 them, absolutely unworthy of interest ?" 
 
 "It is true that no counts Egmont and Horn have 
 been beheaded here, nor any Mark Antonys, Rieuzis, 
 or Van Arteveldes aroused sedition by their stirring 
 harangues," replied his companion, in the same lively 
 vein ; " but our best people cross the square, the 
 most influential ladies of the Seventh Ward traverse 
 it to do their shopping, and our most eminent store- 
 keepers to and from their dinners in the middle of the 
 day. What can you have more worthy, more thor- 
 oughly American, than that?" 
 
 "Are we to decide that interest in tradition is a
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 75 
 
 form of entertainment entirely gone out, and to look 
 for something else to take the place of it? Perhaps 
 something in the way of ornamental effects, buildings, 
 and so on, finer than any that have yet been seen, 
 will ultimately be substituted. The worst of it is that 
 we not only have no traditions, but are not even in 
 process of forming them. Day after day passes over 
 this grassy square, and what does it add, in that re- 
 spect ? Not an iota, not a hair's breadth, of romance. 
 If there were only some weird, remarkable story, 
 even of modern date, hanging about it, that would 
 be something to be thankful for." 
 
 " A weird, remarkable story hanging about an 
 American city hall ? That would be rather too much 
 to expect." 
 
 " Come, there might be a worse scene for some- 
 thing romantic even than this," maintained Barclay. 
 Their conveyance was now proceeding very slowly. 
 " That Mexican-looking cathedral, over there, is n't 
 so bad, as an accessory, and trees and shrubbery 
 are always good; and then the city hall itself has 
 its good points, first among which /am inclined to 
 put the Golden Justice, up there on her dome. Do 
 you know, I have taken quite a fancy to the Golden 
 Justice." 
 
 " Have you, indeed ? You would little guess whose 
 head she has on her shoulders, whose likeness she is 
 supposed to present." 
 
 " The French trapper," he replied, promptly. 
 
 " Nonsense." 
 
 " Pearl Feather, then."
 
 76 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 She looked at him reproachfully, and affected to 
 move her own profile this way and that, as if to throw 
 it into greater relief, for his inspection. 
 
 " It is so far off Surely not you ? " said he, 
 looking inquiringly from the fair model, who thus 
 offered herself to view, up to the image, glinting re- 
 splendent and yellow in the soft, hazy autumn atmos- 
 phere, and then looking back again. The Golden 
 Justice appeared like some visitant from a celestial 
 sphere, new lighted on the heaven-kissing dome. 
 
 " I suppose it might be called a distant resem- 
 blance, from here, but it was meant for me, never- 
 theless." 
 
 " It dazzles me so, but that is only the more 
 like the original. I shall verify it at the first oppor- 
 tunity with a field-glass. And so it was modeled 
 after you ? " 
 
 " It is a long story." 
 
 " The longer the better, since you are to tell it." 
 
 " Oh. if you take it in that amiable way, I will cut 
 it very short." 
 
 They had come to a stand-still for a few moments, 
 and now drove on again. 
 
 " The Golden Justice," she began, " was a prolific 
 source of discord in its early stages. It was like the 
 wooden horse of Troy. Dissensions commenced over 
 her that have scarcely died out even yet." 
 
 " And how could that have been ? " 
 
 " The contest in the first place was as to what the 
 subject of the statue should be. The early pioneer, 
 the French trapper, was proposed. With his rifle and
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 77 
 
 hatchet and his costume of fringed deer-skin, you see, 
 he would have done very well." 
 
 " Ah, I was not as stupid as it appeared." 
 
 " But other pioneers had claims also. The question 
 of race came up, and it was held, by zealous parti- 
 sans, that the first German, Irish, and purely Ameri- 
 can pioneers had as good a right to the place as he. 
 Still another party supported Pearl Feather." 
 
 "Why, I was divination itself!" protested Bar- 
 clay. 
 
 The narrator smiled, indulgently. "This party 
 threw a romantic light around Pearl Feather. It was 
 chiefly a committee of ladies, with Mrs. Rantoul, our 
 leading strong-minded agitator, at their head. They 
 thought it would be an additional step towards vin- 
 dicating the true position of woman, to have a fem- 
 inine statue. Bear in mind, also, that there was a 
 South Side party, which wanted no statue at all, be- 
 cause it could not be well seen from that part of the 
 town ; and lastly, a party of economy, that begrudged 
 the expense." 
 
 " I begin to see," said Barclay. 
 
 " Oh, no ; you may think so, but you don't half 
 begin to see yet. The question of nationality came 
 up in connection with the choice of the sculptor, or 
 designer, of the figure, and then of those who were to 
 have the contracts for casting and setting up the work. 
 The local residence of these persons and the relative 
 advantage to be gained by the different sections were 
 next considered. The South Side would have had 
 the casting sent abroad, to be done at Munich, be-
 
 78 TDE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 cause it had no foundry of its own, but the West Side 
 had one, and secured it. You must get my father 
 to tell you about the effect in the elections, and the 
 like." 
 
 " It is more like the history of a Bellona, goddess 
 of strife, than of a peaceful Justice." 
 
 " The Justice was a compromise. There are law- 
 courts in the building, so it is appropriate. And it is 
 conventional and safe. Just then a young sculptor 
 happened to arrive from abroad, on a visit. You may 
 remember him, Schwartzmann. He used to come 
 to our house, sometimes, in Paris." 
 
 " Schwartzmann ? I remember him very well. I 
 have been at his studio in the Rue d'Enfer. He has 
 done some first-rate work." 
 
 " Well, he did this. He was looked upon as a prod- 
 uct of home manufacture, and got the order. My 
 father had helped him to go abroad and prosecute his 
 studies, and out of gratitude he wanted to make a 
 bust of my humble self. Of course I was only too 
 delighted. At that age for you must remember 
 that this was at an early date a provincial young 
 woman, who had seen little or nothing of the fine 
 arts of any sort, would naturally be taken by the 
 idea of having her poor features put in monumental 
 form." 
 
 Barclay recollected a winning unconsciousness of 
 her own loveliness, even in its brightest day, as one 
 of her greatest charms. 
 
 " But this Schwartzmann was an original sort of 
 person," she continued.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 79 
 
 " I recollect him, myself, in connection with some 
 cranky doings." 
 
 " He prepared for us a surprise, which he intended 
 as an extraordinary compliment. What do you think 
 it was ? From the study he had made of my head 
 he modeled that of his statue, and added more or less 
 of my figure. He let no one know till it was com- 
 plete and set in its place, and then triumphantly 
 called upon us to observe the distinguished honor he 
 had paid me in raising me thus aloft, six times as 
 large as life, a couple of hundred feet above the pave- 
 ment. Neither my father nor any others had made 
 the discovery ; most people are very unobservant 
 abouf such things, unless their attention is especially 
 called to them." 
 
 " I, for one, feel greatly obliged to your original 
 sculptor for his pretty idea." 
 
 " My father did not by any means take it so amia- 
 bly. He was angry at Schwartzmann for not having 
 consulted him, and would have nothing to do with 
 him for a good while afterwards. I was not quite 
 sure, myself, that I liked being exalted so conspicu- 
 ously before high heaven ; but when I came to see 
 how little attention was paid to the matter of the 
 likeness by anybody else, I became reconciled, and 
 duly appreciative of the honor." 
 
 " My interest in the Golden Justice is at last in- 
 telligible," said Barclay. 
 
 " I suppose you are going to gallantly pretend that 
 you knew this all the time?" 
 
 " Not at all, but I assure you there has been a cer- 
 tain rapport between us from the first."
 
 80 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 The statue with its surroundings was by this time 
 well behind them. They followed the sylvan upper 
 reaches of the Keewaydin River, favored of swim- 
 mers and the light skiffs of merry-makers in the 
 pleasant summer time ; thence, by a winding road, 
 through the rich autumn woods, full of the pensive- 
 ness of the season ; and struck the lake again, a con- 
 siderable distance above the city, at a charming cove 
 and fishing -station known as the Whitefish Bay. 
 They stopped a little at this place, to watch the fish- 
 ermen drawing their nets. The water was placid 
 and silvery, and the fish leaped in it, as the seines 
 shoaled under them, and turned their pink and silver 
 sides to the light. 
 
 The air was impregnated with a peculiar smoki- 
 ness and fragrant smell of burning said to come from 
 distant forest fires. Indeed, that season the forest 
 fires to the northward had destroyed a populous 
 town, and burned to death many of its inhabitants, 
 while standing up to their chins in the river, to which 
 they had fled for refuge. The road homeward lay 
 along the line of the bluffs. In the fields the corn 
 was bivouacked in russet sheaves, while at the door 
 of every tent, like a goblin sentinel, squatted a yel- 
 low pumpkin. On the other side stretched out the 
 lake, azure blue and boundless as the ocean, veiled 
 by scattering, thin-stemmed trees, with foliage exqui- 
 sitely dyed. 
 
 " In one particular you are not in the least like 
 the Golden Justice," said Barclay, returning again to 
 this subject.
 
 TUE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 81 
 
 " So much the worse for her, then ; statues should 
 resemble models, not models statues." 
 
 " Why are you, who serve as the emblem of jus- 
 tice to others, so unjust to yourself ? " 
 
 " It was not I who assumed the post of emblem, 
 remember ; it was an accident. No one who' knew 
 would ever have chosen me." 
 
 " Ah, no, you are better than that. I knew it, I 
 knew it ; I did not believe it," he protested strongly. 
 " I have at last heard the other side of your story." 
 
 " What do you mean ? What have you heard ? " 
 she demanded, turning towards him, startled and 
 flushed. 
 
 " That you have suffered innocently, with a heroic 
 fortitude ; that your career has been a cruel martyr- 
 dom." 
 
 " Let me hear no praises, no compliments, on that 
 score, I beg of you. I scarcely know what I did. 
 It has all passed, like a troubled dream. But you 
 speak of your discovery- as something recent; is it 
 possible that you did not know of this of all this 
 before ? " 
 
 " Only in the vaguest mention, on the first day of 
 my arrival. Nor do I now know any of the details. 
 I did not wish to talk with others about you ; it 
 seemed an irreverence, a profanation. And then, you 
 had almost made me afraid to ask. You had almost 
 made me think Why did you delight to so mis- 
 represent yourself? " 
 
 " It is a way we women of the world have of talk- 
 ing," she replied, with a hollow gayety.
 
 S'J THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 'Was it quite fair?" he urged, gently. "We 
 were friends once ; you might have trusted me a lit- 
 tle more. Instead of sympathy, you tried to ex- 
 cite " 
 
 " Did I want sympathy ? No, I will not have it," 
 she interrupted, almost fiercely. " Do you suppose I 
 am not ashamed to think of what is passing in the 
 minds of all those who used to know me ? And I 
 thought you knew ; I thought I had been the gossip 
 of two hemispheres." Then, in a sudden revulsion 
 of feeling, with tears starting to her eyes, which she 
 vainly turned away to hide, " Ah, what a life ! what 
 a fate ! And I who had expected so much ! " 
 
 They were again in the streets of the town. Bar- 
 clay saw that, with the best intentions in the world, 
 he had struck a false note. They remained silent a 
 while, then spoke of indifferent things, and were pres- 
 ently at her own door. 
 
 So far from being an absolute recluse, Barclay 
 found that Mrs. Varemberg showed in many ways a 
 feverish activity. She drove about on charitable er- 
 rands, visited her father's industrial schools, and took 
 a certain oversight of his public library. At parting, 
 on this day, she said she had charge of preparing a 
 somewhat better exhibit than usual for the " art de- 
 partment " of a state fair, which was about to hold 
 its annual session on its grounds in the western out- 
 skirts of the city. 
 
 " I am to go there to-morrow," she said. " Would 
 it interest you to accompany me, and see what a state 
 fair is like ? "
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 83 
 
 " Nothing would interest me more than to see what 
 a state fair is like," he responded. 
 
 So a new appointment was made between them 
 for an early hour the next afternoon.
 
 V. 
 
 I 
 
 A NEW PARTNER AT BARCLAY'S ISLAND. 
 
 WHEN Paul Barclay went to keep his appointment 
 for the State Fair, he met in the porch of the house 
 a young girl, of modest appearance, just taking her 
 leave of Mrs. Varemberg. The girl wore a long, 
 dark cloth coat, of a kind in vogue with the shop- 
 women of the day, fitting closely to a trim figure. 
 From beneath a round hat projected, in front, a fluff 
 of strongly growing, dark hair, and she had a smooth, 
 olive complexion and a pair of hazel eyes, demurely 
 bright. 
 
 " I thank you so very much, Mrs. Varemberg," 
 Barclay heard her say, in a voice with a trace of for- 
 eign accent. 
 
 " This is our little friend Stanislava Zelinsky, 
 from the Polish settlement," said the lady, present- 
 ing the visitor. 
 
 Barclay touched his hat to her. He had seen 
 something of her country and its people, and recol- 
 lections drawn from his travels would have enlisted 
 his interest, even had her being Mrs. Varemberg's 
 protegee with her own pretty face, not sufficed. She 
 made a timid response to his bow. 
 
 " Stanislava has many accomplishments," contin- 
 ued her patroness ; " she is never idle. Besides do-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 85 
 
 ing all kinds of house-work, she can embroider, paint 
 flowers, play the church organ, and has a most excel- 
 lent handwriting. Have you not a beautiful hand- 
 writing, Stanislava ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't know. They get me to write the 
 books of the Polish Benevolent Society, though, 
 what keeps the names of all the families in the 
 church," replied the girl, half disclaiming yet accept- 
 ing the eulogy. 
 
 " And how do they get on now at the church ? It 
 seems to me they are not always as amiable, down 
 there, as they ought to be." 
 
 She referred, no doubt, to a late disturbance, in 
 which the schoolmaster, the leading trader, the pas- 
 tor, and the militia organization known as the Sobi- 
 eski Guards had all been mixed up in a confused 
 combat that had not been straightened out even at 
 the police court itself, to which it had come as a last 
 resort. 
 
 " Oh, that was mostly the Warsaw men and the 
 Cracow men," said Stanislava, referring to some an- 
 cient feud of locality, like that of Cork and Kerry 
 among the Irish. 
 
 " Pronounce your pretty name for us," said Mrs. 
 Varemberg. 
 
 The girl did so, in a very soft and pleasing way. 
 Being urged, she followed with a few further expres- 
 sions in the speech of her fatherland. 
 
 " How charming ! You must give us lessons in 
 the Polish language," said' Barclay, playfully. 
 
 "No American person wants to know the Polander
 
 86 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 lan<nia<ie;" and she showed her fine white teeth iu a 
 
 o o * 
 
 smile at the exquisite absurdity of his idea. 
 
 When she had gone and they were in the carriage, 
 Mrs. Varemberg explained : " She is the child of the 
 bridge-tender who was killed at the same time my 
 father received his own injuries. He has had a fancy 
 to look after her ever since." 
 
 A decidedly new touch of interest was added by 
 this to what Barclay had already shown. He won- 
 dered, 1 as he had often wondered before, and was on 
 the point of saying aloud : 
 
 " Why was not this motive a source of equal con- 
 sideration, on David Lane's part, for me ? " 
 
 " She has just come to me on a rather singular er- 
 rand. She has arrived at her eighteenth birthday, 
 and for the first time has begun to be troubled with 
 compunctions about the money she receives. She 
 inquires what it is for. She thinks she ought not to 
 accept it any longer without doing some service in 
 return." 
 
 " A commendable spirit, surely." 
 
 " I urged her to save it against her wedding-day. 
 She did not seem satisfied, and I promised to see my 
 father about it on his return, and find her something 
 to do, if possible." 
 
 From the Fair ground, as they drew near, they 
 heard issuing forth a strident music of barrel-organs 
 and the orchestras of side-shows, and they could see, 
 above the far-stretching, high white palisade that en- 
 compassed it, the crests of pavilions, booths, and tents, 
 decked with gayly floating banners. Within were
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 87 
 
 parked the dusty vehicles of country folk, who looked 
 upon the occasion as a wonderful festival, and the 
 equipages of wealthy city people, who, like our friends, 
 had made it the terminus of an afternoon's drive. 
 The praises of the Learned Pig mingled with those 
 of the Wild Australian Children, the lowing of ani- 
 mals with the shuffle and clatter of agricultural appa- 
 ratus, and the steam and whir and thud of falling 
 stamps in Machinery Hall. A knot of committee- 
 men trudged, with important air, among the stalls 
 arranged around the outer circuit of the inclosure, 
 distributing medals and ribbons to favored live stock. 
 Something could be seen of a sham battle in progress 
 on an elevated green common without ; and from 
 time to time a man with a red sash and stentorian 
 voice announced trials of speed on the trotting track. 
 Ives Wilson was there, in a kiosk specially erected 
 for the Daily Index. He seemed even unusually 
 full of business. With profuse enthusiasm he handed 
 out to our friends a copy of his special State Fair 
 Edition. Thousands of copies of it were being dis- 
 tributed gratis, containing excellently-paid puffs of the 
 Eureka farm pump, the Little Giant harvester, the 
 Pearl Feather windmill, and the like. He broke 
 away to confer with two notables known as the " Hop 
 King " and the " Cranberry King," and to receive 
 subscriptions from small country politicians, who made 
 it a point to come and pay in person, at this time, to 
 keep the eye of the Index favorably fixed upon 
 them during the ensuing year. He hurried back, and 
 threw into the lap of Mrs. Varemberg, till it resem-
 
 88 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 bled the lap of Abundance, specimens of mammoth 
 fruits and vegetables. Such abnormal objects were 
 donated him as an editor, and hence their most fitting 
 recipient. 
 
 " What energy ! what zeal ! " said Barclay. 
 
 "I should not wonder if he even went to sleep 
 with greater energy than other people," responded 
 his companion. " I have an idea he shuts his eyes 
 with an actual snap, and proposes to show the world 
 one of the most vigorous examples of sleeping on 
 record." 
 
 The Art Pavilion, to which they were bound, was 
 found to be a rather rudely finished structure of pine 
 boards, octagonal in shape. On one side was ar- 
 ranged, by itself, the little collection sent by Mrs. 
 Varemberg, consisting chiefly of some choice textile 
 stuffs and bright foreign pictures of the modern 
 schools, from her own home, together with some few 
 other specimens of merit, loaned by their owners with 
 reluctance, and only upon the personal representa- 
 tions of one so influential tis herself. The contribu- 
 tion next in importance was that of a certain refined 
 Radbrook family, of whom she spoke incidentally with 
 warm admiration. 
 
 " They have almost everything," she said : " money 
 enough for every refined taste, health, good looks, 
 charming children, and fondness for each other. It 
 is a most enviable household. The chief pleasure of 
 the master of it is music. It is not for display or ap- 
 plause, in a common way ; on the contrary, he prefers 
 to be alone ; and there is something poetic and gentle
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 89 
 
 in the way he sits, by the hour, in his music-room, 
 fingering over to himself his difficult compositions. 
 His wife protects this taste, but does not share it. 
 They are amiable and gay in the world, but pay no 
 weak deference to it, and do not let it invade their 
 genuine, self-centred happiness." 
 
 There were indications of her own ideal of domes- 
 tic life to be gathered from this. 
 
 Another class of pictures, very smoothly varnished 
 copies after the old masters, in very brightly gilded 
 frames, complacently displayed by one of the latest 
 of the class of new rich, perhaps met with the most 
 favor from the spectators. The former were spoken 
 of as " too gaudy," and doubts entertained of their 
 being in good taste. Ingenuous school-girls and the 
 like sought the latter with eagerness. They had read 
 of the originals in their text books, and felt that here 
 they were reveling with proper sentiment over the 
 grandest creations of art. 
 
 Then followed dull portraits and leaden landscapes 
 by practitioners who eked out a bare subsistence in 
 the place by the aid of teaching ; woodeny prize cat- 
 tle, painted broadside on, to please their owners ; a 
 figure-piece by a one-armed veteran of the Soldiers 
 Home ; a smudged crayon drawing " by a boy of thir- 
 teen," who spent the greater part of his time before 
 it in rapt admiration ; and chromos, lithographed cir- 
 culars and bill-heads, and a mammoth St. George and 
 the Dragon, executed in Spencerian penmanship. 
 
 A number of people they knew were met with in 
 passing through. Miss Justine DeBow, accompanied
 
 90 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 by Lieutenant Gregg of the revenue cutter, gave Bar- 
 clay a gracious nod. Mrs. Varemberg sank down on 
 a bench with fatigue. 
 
 " You see the cause of art has not yet made enor- 
 mous strides in Keewaydin," she said, summing up. 
 
 " Yes, I suppose that is a safe statement." 
 
 " But it is advancing, it is coming this way ; it is, 
 really. I myself am old enough to have seen won- 
 derful changes in my time." 
 
 " Let it come by itself, then. Let its tottering 
 steps be supported by some more vigorous shoulder 
 than yours." He had noted an unusually pallid and 
 worn look overspread her face. " Good heavens, why 
 have I let you so overtax your strength ? How can 
 I have been so stupid ? " 
 
 " It is nothing. It is not my proceedings to-day 
 that tire me ; the bare exertion of getting these few 
 things together had already done it." 
 
 " Then why did you have anything to do with it?" 
 he asked, in energetic reproof. 
 
 " I suppose I was weak, and let myself be per- 
 suaded. They told me I ought to share my superior 
 advantages with others less fortunate. They said I 
 was a leader ; and when one is a leader one ought to 
 lead, you know." 
 
 " But in all these ways you dissipate vital force you 
 can ill spare. You ought to lead the calmest, most 
 untroubled life possible." 
 
 " ' Calm ' and ' untroubled ' are good. Well, there 
 is sometimes a certain need of distraction. And was 
 it not you who were only lately counseling me ath- 
 letic sports ? "
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 91 
 
 " This is not athletic sport, and now I counsel you 
 rest," he said, looking into her eyes with deep ear- 
 nestness. " Come ! we must get you well." 
 
 " There will be all eternity to rest in." 
 
 But this sincere concern in her well-being had 
 evidently awakened her gratitude. As if with com- 
 punction for her conduct of yesterday, she returned, 
 of her own accord, to the point at which they had 
 then left off. 
 
 " I repulsed your interest in my affairs yesterday. 
 I fear I was very rude to you," she said, with much 
 gentleness. " Now I would like to tell you all you 
 may care to know." 
 
 " No, no ; it was unpardonable in me to trench 
 upon the subject at all. Pray try to forgive and for- 
 get it." 
 
 " But I want to tell you," she insisted, with a gen- 
 tle imperiousness. 
 
 Upon this they took their carriage again and drove 
 homeward. Restive Castor and Pollux had been 
 fuming under the unwonted sounds and phantasma- 
 goria of the Fair, and did not recover their customary 
 gait till the inclosure was left well behind them. 
 The drill of the local militia was still in progress. 
 The American Light Guard, the Irish Emmet Guard, 
 the German Jagers, and the Polish Sobieskis marched 
 and countermarched before one another in gallant 
 style. When the bayonets of the caterpillar-like 
 squads twinkled faintly at a distance, and the smoke 
 of their volleys floated on the air like puffs of thistle- 
 down, Mrs. Varemberg began her story.
 
 92 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " Under Varemberg's gay and frank demeanor," 
 said she, " a superficial veneer adopted only for so- 
 ciety, he covered a morose and barbarous nature. He 
 developed, in particular, a phenomenal cruelty of 
 disposition wliich in recollection seems incredible." 
 
 Who would have credited it?" 
 
 " Something strange seemed to come between us 
 from the very outset. There was no companionship, 
 not a feeling nor thought in common. It was too 
 hideous. At first I used to persuade myself it was my 
 fault, and try to dispel it. The more I humiliated 
 myself, the harder and more brutal he became." 
 
 ' There are natures," said Barclay, " like that Al- 
 pine rose, the type of ingratitude, which, compara- 
 tively tame in its pastures, bristles the more with 
 thorns the more it is cultivated." 
 
 " His native trait of cruelty was exercised on 
 horses, dogs, inferiors, and all around. I was a daily 
 witness to unmerited suffering. It was an outbreak 
 of this kind that first alienated me from him, even 
 before it had been wreaked on myself." 
 
 " And we esteem ourselves judges of character ! " 
 said Barclay. 
 
 " A poor soldier who had been guilty of some of- 
 fense, which though certainly a breach of military 
 discipline was not a crime, had been condemned to 
 death, by court-martial. The circumstances were so 
 peculiar that they had attracted much attention. The 
 soldier was from our own village, where his detach- 
 ment was stationed at the time. A stroiif feelino- of 
 
 O O 
 
 sympathy was aroused for him among his neighbors
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 93 
 
 and comrades. He was led out the first time to be 
 shot, and the platoon would not fire. The villagers 
 rushed between, and bared their breasts, crying, ' You 
 shall not harm him ; you shall kill us first ! ' He was 
 led back to his prison, and they came to me, among 
 others, to invoke my intercession with my husband. 
 ' If he can but obtain a reprieve, and the case be car- 
 ried to the higher authorities,' they pleaded, ' he will 
 surely have justice done him, and be saved.' " 
 
 " You had identified yourself well with your vil- 
 lage, then ? " 
 
 " Yes, one would naturally do so. A woman's 
 country, you know, is that where she loves." (Her 
 companion winced.) " Though that motive endured 
 but so short a time, I had early found a sort of dis- 
 traction in the place. My husband was connected, in 
 some retired or supernumerary way, with the army, 
 yet was one of those, though not the principal one, 
 who had to do with the execution of the sentence. 
 When I spoke to him, he repulsed my interference 
 with insulting sarcasms. No reprieve was obtained. 
 The man was once more led out to die." 
 
 She paused a moment, and covered her eyes with 
 her hand, as if to shut out a terrible recollection. 
 Barclay waited in respectful silence for her to go on. 
 
 " I found myself by accident near the open pa- 
 rade-ground, that morning, quite ignorant of what 
 was to take place. The peasants again ran to me, 
 with streaming eyes, as a melancholy procession came 
 down the village street. I took a few steps, in a 
 confused way, towards it. I was close to both my
 
 94 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 husband and the prisoner. Hardly knowing what I 
 did, I reached forth and laid a hand on Varemberg's 
 arm. It seemed to inspire in him a rage like actual 
 madness. He seized a revolver from his holster, and 
 ran and placed it against the head of the prisoner. 
 'A million devils,' he cried, 'can we never get this 
 vagabond shot ! ' and he fired. 
 
 " I was so near that the blood of the poor victim 
 scattered over me, and his pleading eyes directed into 
 mirte their last glance on earth." 
 
 Barclay's breath came thick and fast, as he listened 
 with horror to this recital. 
 
 " After such an event, what more could there ever 
 be between us? He terrified me inexpressibly. I 
 did not know at what moment I might meet a similar 
 fate. His appearance, which I had once thought so 
 gallant and handsome, seemed sinister to the last de- 
 gree, and his smile froze me. He saw my aversion, 
 and was pleased at first to make some small efforts 
 to overcome it, and be like his former self. But if 
 this shocking deed were not sufficient, others of a 
 like nature followed. Then I began to learn of glar- 
 ing infidelities. He twice demanded of my father 
 large sums in addition to what had been paid as my 
 wedding portion. He had been a bankrupt from 
 the very start ; and finally his transactions in money 
 were such that he had to leave the country. In the 
 midst of it, too, my child had died. Ah, if I had had 
 but that solace, I think I might have endured all the 
 rest. How lonely I was in the great foreign ho.use, 
 far from all I had ever known ! My father came 
 there and took me home."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 95 
 
 " It puzzles me beyond measure, his pretext for 
 turning to such courses ; his motive in throwing away 
 such happiness as his." 
 
 " He must have followed a natural bias that had 
 been hidden from us. It could not have been the 
 beginning of it we witnessed. Much of his conduct 
 seemed without motive, his cruelty pure wantonness ; 
 perhaps it would be most merciful to suppose it in- 
 sanity. There were such characters in history, who 
 delighted in torture for its own sake. His seemed 
 one of those natures that at a certain point had to go 
 wholly and irremediably to the bad." 
 ' " But how, but why did such a dreadful mistake 
 ever arise ? " exclaimed Barclay excitedly. 
 
 " I suppose I chose with a young girl's want of 
 reflection. I must have been very thoughtless, even 
 for my age. Truly, I had formed but a dim concep- 
 tion of what it was to be married, and of the need of 
 a true affection. Varemberg interested, even dazzled 
 me. He told me, too, that no one could ever love 
 me as much as he, and I think I allowed myself to 
 believe it." 
 
 " And yet it ought not to have been so difficult 
 to love you, in those times," broke in Barclay, with 
 a sad sort of bitterness. " I sometimes used to won- 
 der that everybody who knew you did not do it." 
 
 He had yielded momentarily to an emotion against 
 which he vainly struggled. Surely it was evident 
 now that her father had never told her of his pro- 
 posal, and she had never known the true state of his , 
 feelings. Such naivete of statement, as unconscious
 
 % THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 as her former flippancy, would otherwise have been 
 impossible. 
 
 She turned towards him a look of genuine surprise. 
 
 " Truly," she said, " you have come back an accom- 
 plished flatterer. Once, praise from you was praise 
 from Sir Hubert, to be esteemed indeed." 
 
 " Whatever I have come back, it is no flatterer." 
 
 " Then it only remains to set you down as mis- 
 guided. I was far from certain in my own mind 
 about this marriage," she went on presently, " but my 
 father reassured me, and laid my scruples at rest." 
 
 Your father ? " 
 
 " Yes, alas ! he too was deceived." 
 
 Paul Barclay's surmise, to which so many indica- 
 tions had pointed, was confirmed. Her father had 
 been the* author of the match, she only a consenting 
 party. He groaned in spirit to think that all his 
 agony had passed even unnoted, and to recall his own 
 words of consuming passion unspoken, when it ap- 
 peared how easily the glib sophistries of the foreigner 
 had prevailed with her. 
 
 " Bear with me," he resumed, after some casual 
 interruption from the sights and scenes around them. 
 " And after all this, they tell me, you will not avail 
 yourself even of the poor remedy of the law." 
 
 " Oh no, not that ; never ! " she ejaculated, in a 
 sort of horror. 
 
 "And why?" 
 
 "There is but one thing for a woman to do in a 
 situation like mine, and that is to accept the conse- 
 quences of her folly gracefully, and conceal them
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 97 
 
 from the public eye as far as possible. No new trials, 
 no farther experiments for me ! " 
 
 " But even apart from further experiments," he 
 reasoned with her, grieved at the terms, " is it not 
 irksome to drag a ball and chain five or ten thousand 
 miles long?" 
 
 " There are international aspects to the case, and 
 it is not certain that release could be obtained, valid 
 in both countries, did I desire it never so much. And 
 where is the great harm in a ball and chain, if one 
 does not wish to dance ? " with a melancholy smile. 
 
 " I have not heard it was dancers only to whom 
 those appendages were hateful. One would always 
 like to walk unimpeded, even at the slowest pace." 
 
 "No, I have firm convictions against what you 
 suggest," she persisted. 
 
 " And so had I till now. Or rather, I fear my at- 
 tention has never been closely turned to it. But 
 surely the step was never better justified." 
 
 " Whom God hath joined together, he only can put 
 asunder. That is what I have always been taught 
 to believe. That is what my father believes, with 
 me. Alas ! in many things I no longer know what 
 my convictions are. Varemberg shook my faith, in 
 our early days, with his brilliant, hateful skepticism ; 
 that harm he did me with the rest. But, in all my 
 uncertainties, on this point I have never wavered." 
 
 Barclay abandoned the argument with a sigh. He 
 afterwards felt greatly his temerity in entering on it. 
 He sighed over his companion in many ways. 
 
 " Ah, that such a fate," he said, " should have been
 
 98 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 hers, so made as she was for sunshine, for distinction ! 
 Ah, that yonder wretch should have been allowed to 
 throw away this treasure of affection and loveliness, 
 when I I would have given my heart's blood to 
 save her from an instant's pain ! " 
 
 A week after this, the statement was current that 
 a new partner had gone into the management of the 
 Stamped-AVare Works. The news was brought to 
 the Johannisberg House, which stood at no great dis- 
 tance from Barclay's Island, on the main land, by the 
 South Side letter-carrier, Peter Stransky. 
 
 It was a quiet afternoon at that respectable cara- 
 vansary. There were visible a collection of shells 
 and a full-rigged ship, behind the bar of the long, 
 neatly sanded room. A little platform crossed one 
 end of this room, on which a quartette of Tyroleans, 
 with zither accompaniment, sometimes sang the na- 
 tional yodel. The wall behind it was painted with a 
 mammoth Alpine scene, with a door in the centre ; 
 so that the performers, on taking leave, seemed to 
 disappear into the heart of the mountain, like a spe- 
 cies of kobolds. Christian Idak, grown older and 
 confirmed in that important air of the small landlord 
 who is better off than most of his guests, still moved 
 about in his shirt-sleeves. Frau Idak sat knitthif in 
 
 O 
 
 a corner, and a child by her side was doing sums on 
 its slate. The usual marine gossips were at their 
 posts, recounting hair-breadth escapes and curious 
 happenings, which are even more common, perhaps, 
 in the lake navigation than that of the salt ocean.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 99 
 
 One had told of cruising in Lake Superior, in 
 June, amid fields of floating ice, twenty feet thick. 
 Another had told how, once, when wrecked, he had 
 seen the ghost of a former captain swimming by him 
 in the water. The mysterious questions of a tide 
 and subterranean outlets for the lakes had been 
 touched upon. 
 
 " All I know is," said a tug-man, " that a precious 
 sight more water goes down that Saint Lawrence 
 River than ever gets out o' the lakes fair and above- 
 board." 
 
 " Most anywhere out Waukesha way, where I 
 hail from," added a skipper, corroborating him, " if 
 you bore down into the solid rock you get water 
 comin' up, with live fish in it. And ' cisco,' which is 
 a Lake Superior fish, and nothin' else, appears in 
 Genevy Lake a few days every year, and then disap- 
 pears again, so you can't find one for love nor money. 
 Now what does all that mean if it ain't that there 's 
 underground channels ? " 
 
 The " hard times," supposed to be existing, next 
 came in for their fair share of attention. 
 
 An engineer of the Owl Line complained that 
 they did not get one trip now where they formerly 
 got a dozen. 
 
 " It is the same way with us," added a rival of the 
 Diamond Jim Line : " the big craft is eatin' up all 
 the small ones, in the carryin' trade. And even 
 they don't make no very heavy pile out of it." 
 
 "The bloated money kings and monopolist sharks 
 is at the bottom of it," cried a vigorous exponent of
 
 100 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 the '' greenback " school of finance. " This conn- 
 
 O 
 
 try '11 never see a well day again till it gets a poor 
 man's currency, and makes it ekil to the wants o' 
 trade." 
 
 It was about this time that the South Side letter- 
 carrier came in, on his swift rounds, with his leather 
 satchel slung over his shoulder. 
 
 " The Stamped- Ware Works is one place that don't 
 show much signs o' hard times," said he, imbibing 
 a glass of Keewaydin's excellent beer. "I've just 
 come from there. They 've got a new partner, and 
 are puttin' on a new lot of hands, and everything 's 
 boomin'." 
 
 "Who?" "What?" "How?" greeted the an- 
 nouncement, from all sides, with a lively interest. 
 " Who 's the new partner ? " 
 
 " Name 's Barclay, a New York feller, with loads 
 o' money ; same one what his father used to own the 
 island afore him." And he was off again, on his 
 route, down to the remote precincts of Wincllake 
 Avenue and Muckwonago Road. 
 
 The little notary public, Kroeger, who spent most 
 of his time here, having little to detain him at his 
 own office, and who obtained a repute for wisdom 
 and insight by a policy of cynical smiling and dispar- 
 agement, commented sagely : 
 
 " I guess Maxwell he got bigger ideas as what he 
 know how to do business." 
 
 Akins, the foreman of the Works, came in pres- 
 ently, with a hard-pressed air, and confirmed the in- 
 telligence, with additions.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 101 
 
 " Of course the concern was solid," said he, " and 
 no need o' changin', but a little more money don't 
 never do no harm. Mr. Barclay, he was lookin' 
 round for a job, and bein ' as we suited him, and the 
 island was his, any way, what more natural than that 
 we should strike up a bargain ? " 
 
 Mrs. Varemberg derived her first authentic infor- 
 mation from Barclay himself. Some rumor of it had 
 already reached her. She received it with an open 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 " You are going to stay ? " she exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes, I am going to stay." 
 
 " It seems one of those things really too good to 
 be true." 
 
 " It appears that the too-good-to-be-true sometimes 
 happens," he replied, smiling. 
 
 He surprised in himself a certain tremor, at her 
 pleasant excitement, but quickly dismissed it. She 
 had had really nothing to do with his staying, he as- 
 sured himself. She was in the place, it is true, and 
 was weak and suffering, and he might be of some 
 small solace and'assistance to her, as he should be 
 glad to be to any friend in like situation in whom he 
 felt an interest, but that was all. 
 
 " Maxwell put the matter in such a light that I 
 could not decline his offer," he explained. " If I 
 were in earnest in my ideas, and I assure you I 
 was, here was an opening just suited to my pecul- 
 iar case, and, strangely enough, ready to my hand. 
 Why should I search further ? " 
 
 And so indeed he thought. He had yielded to
 
 lO'J THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 tliat subtile warping by inclination and sympathy 
 which sometimes has its way even with the clearest 
 of consciences. He had not the faintest notion in 
 the world of being that equivocal figure, the mascu- 
 line consoler of an unhappy wife. He was endowed 
 with excellent Anglo-Saxon common sense, and he 
 felt himself to be, now, with his ample experience, 
 a person of a sturdy temperament, upon which the 
 imagination could play but few of its tricks. Was 
 he not heart-whole ? And have we not seen lovers 
 meeting in after years, and even exchanging con- 
 gratulations on their fortunate escape from each 
 other ? It was his general purpose in life to set his 
 face resolutely against all those courses of conduct 
 requiring extenuation or apology, and he had no in- 
 tention of departing from it in this instance. 
 
 When David Lane returned, after the absence we 
 have noted, he found Paul Barclay fairly settled in 
 Keewaydin. 
 
 " What does this mean ? " he demanded of his 
 daughter, with a face of ominous and rigid severity, 
 of which she by no means comprehended the occa- 
 sion. 
 
 NVhat could it mean, papa ? I do not understand 
 you," she responded, in strong astonishment. 
 
 " This young man must needs follow us about the 
 world, and now he comes hither, and even makes a 
 pretext of engaging in business." 
 
 " And why should he not go into a business here ? 
 I do not understand you, papa. As to his following 
 us about the world, surely you remember that it is a
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 103 
 
 good four years since we have seen him, and it was 
 but by the merest accident he knew I was here." 
 
 David Lane, in his first access of consternation, had 
 made a very false step. He hastened to repair its 
 consequences as best he could. 
 
 " I was only thinking, dearest," he began, in a con- 
 fused way, " if it should be said that a former admirer 
 had followed you here, at this particular time " 
 
 " But he is not my ' former admirer,' " she inter- 
 rupted, impatiently. " He was a very staunch friend, 
 whom I should like to keep. At the worst, we hardly 
 have the right to turn out of Keewaydin all those who 
 have been my admirers, if we can suppose any so 
 misguided. I do not understand you at all. Was not 
 Paul Barclay, at Paris, one of our most esteemed ac- 
 quaintances ? " 
 
 "I I have nothing against him," stammered the 
 wretched man. " Only, your position, just at this 
 time, requires a great deal of circumspection." 
 
 Under the influence of her brother, Mrs. Clinton, 
 in her turn, offered a feeble counsel, on the same 
 subject. 
 
 " He is a most gentlemanly man, and all that could 
 be desired in every way, I am sure," she said, depre- 
 catingly ; " but, since he is now going to remain here, 
 it seems to me I would not see quite so much not 
 too much of him, Florence, dear." 
 
 " You know my views and practice on all those 
 matters ; you have' even urged me to modify them, 
 make them less severe. Why do you now become 
 more loyal than the queen ? "
 
 I 
 104 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " Your situation is one requiring a great deal of 
 circumspection," said the aunt, repeating her brother's 
 words. 
 
 " My situation is one requiring a good cup of tea 
 and a night's rest," returned the object of these ex- 
 postulations, and she retired to her own chamber.
 
 VI. 
 
 " TAUGHT BY MISFORTUNE, I PITY THE UNHAPPY." 
 
 AT an early day after taking the important step 
 described, Barclay went to New York to settle up 
 certain of his affairs awaiting him there, and to finally 
 conclude, by a brief visit to his family, his long tour 
 round the world. 
 
 He found himself glad, on reaching New York 
 again, to have chosen Keewaydin as his field of ac- 
 tion. The great metropolis would have been too vast, 
 its influence too discouraging for his simple experi- 
 ment. An individual like himself would have been 
 swallowed up in its Babel of conflicting interests, and 
 could not have hoped to make the faintest impression. 
 
 The city had changed much, even during the few 
 years of his absence. The great apartment-houses 
 had begun to tower up above the level of ordinary 
 life, some even surpassing the tops of the churches. 
 His own family, meantime, had moved far up town, 
 near Central Park, choosing their new abode in a 
 quarter that had been in his day but a waste of desert 
 lots, and abandoning the old one on Fifth Avenue to 
 the encroachments of trade. His sisters one day 
 told mournfully how they had made purchases over 
 the counter in the chambers sacred to the most inti- 
 mate memories of their childhood.
 
 106 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 Old acquaintances, whom he met at the clubs, 
 where he still kept his membership, were inclined to 
 joke him about the " wilds " where he had taken 
 up his new habitat ; but they were respectful about 
 it, too, identifying it more or less with the cattle 
 ranches of Dakota and Montana, to which various 
 friends, " swell " young Englishmen and the like, had 
 taken lately, and they asked him questions about 
 stock-raising, and begged him to bear them in mind 
 if he should meet with opportunities for money-mak- 
 ing he himself might not be able to use. 
 
 Paul Barclay returned to Keewaydin, and took up 
 his quarters in the spacious residence of his kinsfolk, 
 the Thornbrooks, a pleasant old couple, quite free 
 from the crabbedness of age, who insisted upon it 
 with a pressing hospitality. They had their own 
 primitive ideas and habits, they said, but these should 
 in no way be allowed to interfere with his conven- 
 ience. They promised him an exaggerated liberty. 
 They insisted that there was room enough, and to 
 spare, for all ; and so indeed it seemed, when Bar- 
 clay came to inspect the large, comfortable chambers 
 placed at his disposal. The Thornbrooks proceeded 
 forthwith to give an entertainment, with the view of 
 introducing him to the society of the place, and nearly 
 everybody of note assembled to do him honor. There 
 came, among the rest, his traveling-companions, Jim 
 DeBow, who rose once more on his toes, and Miss 
 Justine DeBow. This time she asked him to come 
 and see her at her home. 
 
 But he began his labors immediately in earnest.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 107 
 
 Establishing a regular routine, he rose and break- 
 fasted early ; then drove, in a buggy he had set up, 
 or sometimes walked, for the benefit of the more 
 active exercise, down to the Works, where he spent 
 a long, busy day. He crossed the Chippewa Street 
 bridge, where Ludwig Trapschuh soon came to add 
 him to the large list of acquaintance he claimed. It 
 was the purpose of Barclay to post himself thor- 
 oughly in all parts of his enterprise before he should 
 set out upon any novel schemes. Accordingly, he 
 studied the great books of account, the systems of 
 sales and credit, the character and source of supply 
 of the raw materials, then the processes of manufac- 
 ture, and finally the shipment of the completed prod- 
 uct to many and distant markets. 
 
 His " office " was a small wooden house, with 
 platform-scales beside it. It had worn cocoa matting 
 on the floor ; it contained a great iron safe, a low 
 desk, and a high one with a tall stool beside it. On 
 the wall was a capacious frame filled with specimens 
 of the smaller wares turned out by the factory, with 
 price-list attached. The hum of a distant planing- 
 mill rose unceasingly on the ear, like some homely 
 song forever celebrating the plodding industries of 
 the quarter. 
 
 The main buildings were partly of brick and partly 
 of wood ; their roofs were covered with a preparation 
 of asphalt, which, with the tan-bark, from a not far 
 distant tannery, laid on the road of approach, gave 
 out distinctive odors when heated by the sun. Over 
 the principal doorway was the legend : " No Admis-
 
 108 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 sion Except on Business." All around was a litter 
 of piece-moulds, old castings, and general debris, and 
 against the walls leaned some mammoth gear-wheels, 
 quiet so long from their swift revolutions that the 
 slow rust and cobwebs had overtaken them. 
 
 The dry, unsentimental nature of his surroundings 
 by no means chilled the early ardor of Barclay ; if 
 anything, it even increased it. 
 
 " The mine itself does not shine," said he ; " it is 
 only the product from its gloomy depths." 
 
 There was even a certain romance in their utter 
 commonplaceness. It was a reaction, no doubt, a 
 form of the testimony of respect that the studious, 
 scholarly temperament pays to the more rugged sort 
 that makes the money and carries on the practical 
 affairs of the world. Barclay felt that he had been 
 too long a mere loiterer and looker-on, and he now 
 took a manly delight in knowing himself, at last, a 
 part of the great, stirring, useful, workaday world. 
 
 He had conceived, as we have seen, an ideal of duty 
 towards his men far beyond that of the mere payment 
 of wages. If he were to be the autocrat of their des- 
 tinies, he meant to be at least an autocrat of the be- 
 neficent type. So he was fond of watching them, when 
 he thought them unaware of it, at their work. He 
 found a kind of grotesque pathos, as well as humor, 
 in their smudged faces, their flannel shirts of red and 
 blue, stained with oil, all the vagaries of their grimy 
 costume. He wondered to himself how he would 
 have stood such a life as theirs, had it been forced 
 upon him. The flowers that bloomed for them were
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 109 
 
 the flames and molten metal from the furnaces ; the 
 stars that shone for them were the scintillations of 
 the forging ; the birds that sang for them were the 
 clink of the hammers ; and the grass that grew under 
 their feet was the waste of slag and cinders. 
 
 If the men observed him at this study, they thought 
 it only the sharp eye of the task-master bent upon 
 them, to see that they neglected no duty touching his 
 pocket. There was range enough of character. He 
 had timid spirits and bold, the gay and the morose, 
 the faithful at their tasks and the chronic shirkers, 
 sycophants who would have curried favor with him by 
 spying upon the rest, and surly independent ones who 
 seemed even to go out of their way to seek occasion 
 for offense. 
 
 Instead of some episode of the humanitarian sort, 
 to which he aspired, curiously enough one of the first 
 experiences he had was to deal with a fractious and 
 rebellious hand. This man, a dangerous character 
 as well as inefficient workman, after having been dis- 
 charged, returned again, under the influence of drink, 
 and, in the long main shop, fired twice at Barclay 
 with a revolver, at almost point-blank range. 
 
 " "You 'd 'a' thought the boss kind o' liked it," 
 said belligerent young Johnny Maguire, of the pack- 
 ing-room, commenting on the occurrence. " He kep' 
 as cool as a cucumber all the time. Oh, he 's got 
 plenty of sand in his gizzard, and don't you forget 
 it." 
 
 This proceeding, so questionable, perhaps, as phi- 
 lanthropy, stood Barclay in good stead in other re-
 
 110 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 spects. His coolness under fire and indifference to 
 danger won him the respect of the rude class with 
 which he had to deal as the manifestation of no other 
 kind of qualities at first would have done. In the 
 long run it lightened his management in many wavs, 
 and gave his labors and influence the more telling 
 efficacy. 
 
 The news of it came to Mrs. Varemberg, as that of 
 the steamer accident had done, only from outsiders 
 and after a considerable time. She was alarmed, and 
 said to him, 
 
 " Is it not dangerous for you to mix with such 
 rough characters, and go among them as freely as 
 you do ? They may knock you on the head some 
 day" for revenge, or robbery ; who knows ? " 
 
 " The only fear is that none of them will be so 
 obliging," he replied, in a way that much puzzled her. 
 
 Barclay aimed, too, with an all-embracing ambi- 
 tion, to acquaint himself thoroughly with Keewaydin. 
 He studied its map, its topography, its past and pres- 
 ent. He designed to grasp all the elements of its 
 population ; its social life, the sources and prospects 
 of its trade, the method of its government, policing, 
 lighting, heating, water supply, protection from fire ; 
 its courts, schools, churches, and cemeteries. There 
 was a definite satisfaction to him in the compactness, 
 the moderate compass, of the city, large, important, 
 and flourishing though it was. He found it agreeable 
 to have become part of a place in which it would be 
 possible to rise to the top, and even, should he so 
 desire, to be one of its controlling spirits.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. Ill 
 
 " The leaven is working," he said to Mrs. Varem- 
 berg. " I feel within me the makings yet of a bitter 
 East or West or South Sider." 
 
 He went on 'Change. He wondered if the same 
 wrinkles of shrewdness did not begin to appear about 
 his own eyes as about those of the business people he 
 met there. 
 
 Jim DeBow welcomed him cordially, and dis- 
 coursed as before on the present and prospective 
 greatness of Keewaydin. Ives Wilson, who was ex- 
 tending the range of his infallibility at the moment 
 to the domain of grain and pork, touched up Jim De- 
 Bow a little on the subject of a recent large opera- 
 tion of the latter's in winter wheat, a " corner," in 
 fact, of such extent as to have caused Chicago to 
 claim with pride to be the birthplace of its manipu- 
 lator. Both leaned nonchalantly back against one 
 of the long tables, and munched grains of wheat as 
 they talked. 
 
 " Speaking of winter wheat," said the editor par- 
 enthetically, " you '11 see winters out here that '11 
 make your hair curl. Why, back in the country 
 where this comes from," and he tossed a few more 
 grains into his mouth, " when the thermometer 's only 
 up to zero, the people put their summer clothes on." 
 
 On 'Change seemed a sort of commercial club. 
 Vessel-men, agents of freight lines and insurance 
 companies, attorneys, builders, and money-lenders re- 
 sorted thither, to look for business. Telegraphic in- 
 struments clicked, messengers ran hither and thither, 
 and from time to time the secretary mounted to an
 
 112 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 upper gallery, and, like a muezzin summoning to 
 pruvers, gave out the latest quotations of foreign 
 markets, the shouting circle around a small plat- 
 form in the centre pausing briefly in their turmoil to 
 listen. 
 
 There Barclay met also David Lane. In his role 
 of capitalist, the ex-governor stood about on the outer 
 edge of the circle, supporting his dignified, stocky 
 figure on a cane, and speaking an occasional word 
 with one of the more active members. He was rheu- 
 matic now, and at times could walk only with exceed- 
 ing difficulty. 
 
 Ives Wilson came up, and, half presenting Barclay 
 to Lane, in his offhand fashion, said of him, 
 
 " He has become one of us, I 'm glad you know 
 each other. I tell you, little by little Keewaydin is 
 going to gather in all the brains, capital, and indus- 
 try of the country. By the way," to Barclay, " I 'm 
 thinking of sending a man down to write up your 
 place. I think I '11 have Goff, our Assistant Local, 
 do it ; he 's particularly good at those things." 
 
 " To write up my place ? " 
 
 " Yes, a column article, you know, under the head 
 of Keewaydin's Industries. We give you a hundred 
 copies, free, to distribute round among your friends, 
 and you let us have a hundred - dollar advertise- 
 ment, see ? " 
 
 David Lane's manner to the young manufacturer 
 was cold and repellent, the manner he so well re- 
 membered in the old times. It added to his sense of 
 a confirmed hostility, a feeling vividly aroused by the
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 113 
 
 revelation of Mrs. Varemberg. In the difficulty of 
 forming, at present, any more general programme, 
 and while awaiting the development of events, David 
 Lane had taken refuge in moroseness. The young 
 man should at least have no countenance from him ; 
 he would not invite him to his house, nor show any 
 willingness to receive him ; he would not encourage, 
 if he could not put an end to, this most ominous in- 
 vasion. 
 
 " It shall never be, it shall never be ! " he mut- 
 tered. But even those who saw him glance fiercely 
 after the retiring figure of Barclay could have had lit- 
 tle idea of all the tragic thoughts passing in his mind. 
 
 His most imminent danger had come back, the 
 danger, too, he had once thought forever averted, by 
 the most cautious of planning, the most doleful of 
 sacrifices. Was it to have been imagined that his 
 punishment would follow him in this of all other 
 forms follow him through his daughter? Nothing 
 was more probable than that the violent end of Va- 
 remberg would be heard of at any moment. And 
 here was this honorable lover, to whom his daughter 
 had never been indifferent, returned and ready to re- 
 new his suit. 
 
 " Heaven knows it is no malice of mine, but his 
 own interest. I must and will always oppose him! " 
 he cried despairingly. " Have I not done him harm 
 enough ? He shall never marry her." 
 
 Some others, perhaps, might think it the best of all 
 reparations that the son of the man who was slain 
 should be allowed to wed his heart's desire, the
 
 114 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 daughter of the slayer, a noble and lovable creature 
 in lierself, and the dearest thing in life to her father. 
 Sell-protection, too, would have dictated this policy 
 to David Lane, but he had never inclined to it. 
 There was an element of the exalted and unpractical 
 in his course ; he was not seeking his personal safety. 
 He would have no marriage with such a Nemesis on 
 its track ! Barclay ought not to be allowed to unite 
 himself with them. He would awake some day to 
 the discovery that his wife had been used as a bait 
 and a snare to tie his hands against the just retribu- 
 tion he would have demanded, awake perhaps to 
 loathe as much as he had once fancied he loved her. 
 
 This feeling, misguided perhaps, and fraught al- 
 ready with the bitter consequence of the foreign mar- 
 riage, had been the ruling force and motive of the 
 destiny of David Lane for years, and he still grimly 
 adhered to it. It was his bias of mind, his whim, his 
 hallucination or mania, perhaps ; but so he was con- 
 stituted, so he had begun, and he could not change. 
 It must be counted with as an inevitable part of his 
 character. 
 
 He went to his home by way of the City Hall 
 Square, and, as he hobbled along the promenade he 
 turned his eyes upward to the Golden Justice. There 
 had been times, during his stay abroad, when he had 
 afl but forgotten its existence, with both his crime 
 and his eccentric reparation. It would be recalled to 
 him, perchance, by some accident of travel, some 
 faint resemblance to this in a foreign building, or 
 some gilded saint gleaming afar, as from the basilicas
 
 TUB GOLDEN JUSTICE. 115 
 
 on the plain of Lombardy. Even at home it had 
 often lapsed into a certain vagueness. But now, since 
 the arrival of this young man, his memory ,was jogged 
 indeed ; his sense of what the image conveyed was re- 
 newed in all its vividness. 
 
 " I gave my pledge to Justice to respond whenever 
 she should call me. Is the fulfillment of the pledge 
 about to be exacted ? " he speculated mournfully. 
 
 Often, too, had he wished the fateful paper down 
 again and safe in his own possession, and now, as he 
 gazed, this feeling was intensely revived. His burn- 
 ing glance seemed as if it would go straight to the 
 heart of the secret, and consume it where it lay. 
 
 " Dry rot has perhaps destroyed it by this time," 
 he speculated ; " or moisture penetrated to it, through 
 some crevice, and caused it to disappear in mildew and 
 mould." 
 
 Then he returned to his house, and sat by his win- 
 dow, as was so often his wont, and still gazed wist- 
 fully at the Golden Justice, showing above the forest 
 of shade trees interspersed among the dwellings. 
 
 Paul Barclay looked up one day from his writing, 
 and inspected a card handed him by a very light-com- 
 plexioned young man, of energetic aspect, wearing a 
 slouch hat and cloak. The card bore the inscrip- 
 tion, " Welby B. Goff, Local Ed. Keewaydin Index." 
 This visitor spoke first of the general state of the 
 country, of the approaching close of navigation, the 
 quantity of wheat in store, and the heavy condi- 
 tion of the country roads, that rendered collections
 
 116 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 difficult, then finally came down to the business he 
 had in hand. 
 
 " The Index is getting up a series of articles on the 
 * Industries of Keewaydin,' " said he, " and your place 
 will naturally figure among the most prominent. We 
 make it a point always to send to headquarters for 
 our information. The Index, as you know, has a cir- 
 culation larger than all its contemporaries combined, 
 and it aims to be strictly accurate." 
 
 Barclay recollected the hint he had already got 
 from the editor-in-chief, and good humoredly acceded 
 to the scheme, partly because the Index was Ives 
 Wilson's paper, and partly because he was not really 
 averse to having his new enterprise described in print 
 in a form which he might send to some of his friends 
 at a distance. He therefore accompanied the reporter 
 about the factory in person, and took great pains to 
 supply him with the proper information. He was also 
 led to consider having an advertisement of much lar- 
 ger size than the one first proposed ; and when an in- 
 genuous new proprietor once begins to " figure " with 
 a wily agent in this kind of wares, he is extremely 
 likely to do very much more than he expected. 
 
 " The price draws blood," said Welby Goff, as he 
 put up his pencil, after booking a highly profitable 
 contract, ' but I 've done it, and I '11 stick to it. Only 
 I '11 ask you as a special favor not to mention it to 
 any one else ; it would ruin us." 
 
 In due time the article appeared. It proved a 
 tissue of exaggerations from beginning to end ; every 
 figure was at least doubled, and hardly an adjective
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 117 
 
 was used under the superlative degree. The stamped- 
 ware factory was called " one of the marvels of the 
 age," and the new partner, " Paul Barclay, Esq.," 
 was said to have " prepared himself expressly for 
 his present duties by a long arid exhaustive course of 
 travel, study, and scientific research among similar es- 
 tablishments." 
 
 Barclay hurried round to the Index, in a rage, and 
 found Ives Wilson immersed to the eyes in scissored 
 " exchanges," in a stuffy little office. The editor at 
 first thought he had come to make a complaint of the 
 totally opposite character. 
 
 " My own idea of an article of this kind," said he, 
 when undeceived, "is that the person it is written 
 about should be ashamed to read it. I told Goff to do 
 the handsome thing by you, and I suppose he has put 
 it fairly strong." 
 
 f " But it is absurd ; we are made ridiculous," pro- 
 tested Barclay. " We have n't half that number of 
 men at the factory ; they do not work ' night and 
 day ; ' the total product turned out is not " 
 
 " Readers want statements of a bold, impressive, 
 well-rounded sort ; they have no real taste for little 
 matters, but want to hear about things on a great 
 scale. We give them what they ask for, and they 
 are quite capable of making their own discounts." 
 
 This was all .the satisfaction to be obtained, and 
 Barclay was fain to content himself with suppressing 
 his part of the edition, and resolving to see to it that 
 any future literature of the kind, of which he might 
 have need, should be conceived after a less highly
 
 US THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 florid model. While at the office of the Index, on 
 this visit, he met with one further instance of what 
 readers might " expect " that tended to amuse and to 
 distract him from his own annoyance. A small Eng- 
 lish-looking man, of a shabby look, wearing a hat 
 many seasons out of the mode, came rushing in an- 
 grily, and extended a copy of the paper at full length 
 with one hand, while he tapped a certain article in it 
 with the other. The article bore the flaming "head- 
 lines, " A Much-Married Impostqr of the South Side. 
 A Bogus Doctor Skips the Town."' It referred to 
 him, it appeared ; it had met his eye as far away as 
 Kansas City, and he had come back, he said, to deny 
 the unwarranted aspersion, and spend, if need be, 
 his last dollar in the prosecution of its author. Ives 
 Wilson, in a diplomatic way, begged the visitor to sit 
 down, which he indignantly refused to do. The ed- 
 itor then whistled up the speaking-tube to the cona- 
 posing-room for Welby Goff to ascertain the true 
 status of the offending article. Welby Goff, coming 
 down, wrinkled his brows, as in reflection. 
 
 " I seem to recollect something of this," said he, 
 " and yet, again I don't know. Surely there must 
 be some means of tracing it. I know we can. Would 
 you kindly step in again in a few days ? " 
 
 " Days ? " cried the complainant, with a fierce 
 glare. 
 
 " Or a week, then," blandly. " If it should prove 
 that the Index has done you injustice, if this article 
 has been contributed by an outsider, if we have been 
 imposed upon by any personal enemy of yours, of
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 119 
 
 course the the Index will see you righted. Do 
 you know," confidentially, "the abuses that some- 
 times creep into the press in these matters are simply 
 infamous. In your case, my dear sir, I should prob- 
 ably feel exactly as you do." 
 
 The visitor, who was really a person of question- 
 able standing, no doubt with certain shady features 
 in his record, was little by little mollified by treat- 
 ment of this sort, and left the office, agreeing to wait 
 till justice was done him. 
 
 " I wrote it myself," said Welby Goff, gleefully, to 
 Barclay, as soon* as the man's back was turned. 
 " It 's the gospel truth, too, at least, I think it is. 
 Any way, there 's a certain amount of truth in it. 
 Of course I had to put him off a little at first, being 
 tackled all at once, that way. I '11 keep it up for a 
 while, till I can look up some more information to 
 lay him out with. I 'm pretty sure I can, and then 
 we '11 give him a worse deal than before." 
 
 Barclay saw comparatively little of Mrs. Varem- 
 berg in these earliest days. His new status as a res- 
 ident of the place did not seem to warrant a contin- 
 uance of the close intimacy of the brief preliminary 
 visit. The coolness of his relations with her father, 
 his real devotion to his new undertaking ; together 
 with the natural considerations of pi'opriety and good 
 judgment that would occur to Mrs. Varemberg as 
 well, all contributed to this result. 
 
 The window of his chamber gave upon the quiet 
 City Hall Park, where he could descry her likeness, 
 in the guise of the Golden Justice. He now got out
 
 .ir>Ticr. 
 
 his field-glass an exceptionally good one that had 
 served him well in his travels, had looked at macro- 
 cosms and microcosms, at a famous beauty in her 
 opera-box, and down into the seething heart of a vol- 
 cano and added to the many sights, both fair and 
 wondrous, it had taken in, a close study of this statue. 
 He would take up the glass sometimes when at his 
 books, and direct at it a long and earnest gaze. The 
 Golden Justice was his exalted companion in the 
 brief hours of daylight he passed at this window, 
 engaged in a heavy course of reading he had begun. 
 He was reviewing and extending his acquaintance 
 with socialistic works of all kinds, his quick good 
 sense detecting their fallacies, while his imagination 
 often sighed over the Utopias of human happiness 
 they presented. His thoughts would shoot off. arrow- 
 like, to that shining mark, and glancing thence fall 
 to Mrs. Varemberg, often crossing, no doubt, those 
 of David Lane, similarly occupied. 
 
 Barclay said to himself that he was glad she was 
 there, glad she should be thus raised aloft above 
 the city, as its emblem of right and justice. There 
 was something grand in the apotheosis; it was in 
 keeping with his worship of her, his enchantment of 
 other days, and it added dignity to that far-off love. 
 He distinguished with his glass the proud and noble 
 poise of the head, under its golden helmet, the subtle, 
 reassuring smile that wreathed the features. They 
 were the features of her blooming, untroubled girl- 
 hood, showing a character far less deep and serious, 
 less tempered by experience, than at present; but
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 121 
 
 she was for that reason only the more goddess-like, 
 since a traditional property of the gods is untroubled 
 calm. Nor was it needed that the model who had so 
 well served the artist as his inspiration should have 
 herself possessed all the grave and tragic qualities he 
 would depict ; were it so, the plastic arts must soon 
 come to a stand-still. She had been a point of de- 
 parture such as is rarely met with, and the imagina- 
 tion of the spectator was to do the rest. 
 
 With the passing of the seasons, with the varying 
 days and times of day, and perhaps even the personal 
 moods of the looker-on, the Golden Justice seemed 
 to take many different aspects. Now she half melted 
 into the delicious skies of autumn, now showed 
 through light mists, like flame behind a screen of 
 gauze. She was harsh and coppery in the cold bleak- 
 ness of November ; she seemed yellow, burnished 
 gold against the background of some opaque blue fir- 
 mament of winter; she glared lurid and threatening 
 as an angel of wrath in the red sunsets ; and, again, 
 would twinkle as with merriment, under the shifting 
 lights and shadows of the glorious clbud-masses of the 
 spring-time. Even on obscure nights, as has been 
 said, some wandering star-beam, some vestige of the 
 radiance that is never wholly extinguished from the 
 universe, would seek her out and indicate her posi- 
 tion. Barclay noted, as a peculiar feature, that she 
 was the most distinctly seen on dark days ; every lin- 
 eament and fold of her drapery then came out against 
 the favoring ground of leaden gray, while in clear 
 sunshine she was apt to be obliterated in a general 
 duzzte.
 
 122 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 "That is as it should be," said he. "Justice should 
 show the most clearly in time of adversity and trial ; 
 if she conceal her face at all, let it be when all goes 
 well." 
 
 He little knew, as yet, the stake she held for him, 
 and what it really might have been, even apart from 
 the features of his lost love, that led him to the close 
 study of this figure and the discovery of all these fine 
 distinctions. 
 
 If he did not see Mrs. Vavemberg often, their 
 friendship and a wholesome feeling of good-comrade- 
 ship between them were certainly renewed. Mrs. 
 Varemberg seemed to find an unusual content in -this 
 element that had come into her life, and an unwonted 
 animation arising out of it perhaps accounted, on 
 some of her " well days," for an ephemeral recovery 
 of her looks, an aspect almost of health, that was to 
 be noted in her. She still appeared to Barclay, in 
 truth, a beautiful, lovable woman. Her type, marked 
 by its perpetual pensiveness or sadness, reminded him 
 of those sweet, candid, and noble figures of Raphael's 
 earlier period. By some inspiration of natural grace, 
 she seemed to him to fall always into the attitudes 
 most becoming to her. She did everything with a 
 certain refined deliberation, an absence of excitability, 
 growing partly out of her invalidism, and partly out 
 of an innate dignity, that gave all her movements an 
 indescribable, fascinating quality of rhythm. 
 
 She bantered him about his enthusiasms and his 
 project, called him Wat Tyler and Caius Gracchus, 
 pretended that he was an incendiary person, about to
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 123 
 
 upheave the foundations of society. But she was se- 
 cretly pleased, notwithstanding, with all he told her ; 
 for, after living so long in darkness, apathy, distrust, 
 and skepticism, she was disposed to be pleased with 
 anything that was believing, strong, positive, and 
 hopeful. 
 
 "Yours is not the indulgent ear into which a re- 
 former could pour all his pet follies," Barclay had 
 objected, to her at first. 
 
 " Try me," she answered gayly ; " you do not half 
 know how indulgent I can be." 
 
 She soon became, in fact, the trusted confidante of 
 most of his doings. By her own wish, she one day, 
 accompanied by her aunt, paid a visit to the Works. 
 To Barclay she seemed to consecrate the dry, rude 
 place, and ever after he thought better of his oflice, 
 since she had blessed it with the charm of her pres- 
 ence, since she had sat upon the high stool and toyed 
 with the heavy ruler. 
 
 " You speak as one having authority. You say 
 ' go,' and he goeth ; and ' come,' and he cometh," she 
 said to him in raillery, noting the many subordinates 
 who came to make reports and receive orders from 
 him, and the profound deference with which he was 
 treated on all hands. " I declare I don't know whether 
 it is quite safe to trust you with such arbitrary pow- 
 ers ; I am not sure you do not begin to have an 
 odiously overbearing way with you already." 
 
 " There is no pressing danger of any unnecessary 
 conceit." And he proceeded to describe to her some 
 of his difficulties, traditions arising out of the asso-
 
 124 TUE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 elation with trades-unions, and the like, which the 
 most despotic of authority could not overcome. 
 
 " I warn you to expect plenty of ingratitude," his 
 young visitor cautioned him, in a mentor-like way. 
 
 'Ingratitude is a part of the disease; they are 
 probably too much absorbed in their own troubles, 
 as yet, to have much time for anything else. I look 
 neither for gratitude nor ingratitude ; I take the peo- 
 ple as I find them." 
 
 " It would sometimes be much better to leave 
 them as you find them. You may have to come to 
 that. But I refuse to quarrel with you. Are you 
 not going to show me your favorite proteges ? " 
 
 So Barclay took the ladies about, and indicated to 
 them a few persons ,upon whom he had already cast 
 an eye with a view to the improvement of their con- 
 dition. In the first place, there was one Martin 
 Krieg, a small apprentice lad, black as a powder- 
 monkey, who concealed a real shyness under a quaint 
 imitation of the surly manner affected by some of the 
 older workmen. Barclay had Martin Krieg show a 
 specimen of drawing he had made quite without in- 
 struction, and said he thought of giving the boy ad- 
 vantages for cultivating the decided bent he seemed 
 to show in that direction. Next was McClary, a 
 hollow-chested, round-shouldered young man, with a 
 sickly face, who stood in a stooping position, engaged 
 in filing brass work. 
 
 " He is a good workman and an honest fellow," 
 said Barclay ; " he is temperate, economical, indus- 
 trious with an assiduity that spares himself least of
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 125 
 
 all, but look at him. Ho files away, like that, day 
 in and day out ; takes night work, too, whenever he 
 can get it ; and even asks for more to take home over 
 holidays." 
 
 " Why, he is killing himself by inches." 
 
 " Almost by feet, rather." 
 
 " Why will he do it ? " 
 
 " It is a misguided ambition. It is a good enough 
 motive at bottom ; I quite appreciate it. He aspires 
 to a shop and house of his own, and says there is no 
 other way to get them. He married a trim, nice- 
 looking girl, who worked in a paper-box factory. 
 With their two small children they live in two poor 
 rooms in a tenement-house, and his wife ekes out 
 their scanty subsistence by taking a couple of me- 
 chanic boarders. But you are not interested in these 
 petty details ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I find them very interesting." 
 
 " I hear of a touch of jealousy, too, arising out of 
 one of these boarders. The wife, fast losing her good 
 looks, and becoming a mere drudge, was driven to 
 seek a bit of relaxation in some quarter, I suppose, 
 and let this man take her to the theatre a few times. 
 Her husband was wild about it." 
 
 " That is one of the dangers of such a situation, I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 " Under the pressure of his fierce ambition, Mc- 
 Clary is probably as penurious with her as with him- 
 self, and, with his poor health added, cannot be the 
 most agreeable companion in the world. And this 
 McClary, I want you to observe, is one of the better 
 class of workmen."
 
 126 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 *' Why don't you talk to him ? " 
 
 " I have talked to him." 
 
 " Well, what are you going to do ? " 
 
 " What would you do ? What do you advise ? " 
 he asked, trying her. 
 
 " Raise his pay ? " she suggested, doubtfully. " But 
 dear me ! don't ask me anything ; I have n't a parti- 
 cle of imagination." 
 
 " We have stretched a point in that direction ; but 
 to pay a man more than he is really worth can be no 
 permanent resource. Oh, this monster of political 
 economy, how inexorable it is ! Absolute right of 
 every workman to sell his labor for all he can get, 
 absolute right of every employer to buy labor for as 
 little as he can pay, nobody to blame, and yet 
 what a slaughter of happiness and lives ! " 
 
 " The improvement of his health would seem to be 
 the first thing to attend to ; then, his family arrange- 
 ments." 
 
 " Good ! so it seemed to me, also. He is to be 
 drafted into the packing-room at easier work, and I 
 have arranged to move them out of their tenement- 
 house into a cottage, which they can have at even 
 lower rent, and where they can get rid of the board- 
 ers." 
 
 These may be received as fair ordinary examples 
 of the way the young proprietor aimed to lend a 
 helping hand to those who helped themselves, to ex- 
 tend it at the proper time, and to keep his proteges 
 out of the gutter instead of waiting till they were 
 fairly in it to raise them. If his partner, Maxwell,
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 127 
 
 was disposed to criticise any of this as unbusiness- 
 like, he gladly paid the extra cost from his own pock- 
 et ; and he defended it on the ground that, by ren- 
 dering the hands thoroughly contented, he would 
 bring them up to a greatly improved standard of effi- 
 ciency, and get more work out of them than had ever 
 been known before. 
 
 There are usually " characters " of one sort and 
 another in an establishment of the kind. Under this 
 head of a " character," one Fahnenstock was pre- 
 sented to the guests. He was a slow-speaking, rusty 
 old fellow, the veteran of the shops. In long years 
 of service he had never become a thoroughly skilled 
 workman, nor indeed risen but a few steps above the 
 point at which he started. 
 
 " Some of 'em can't," said the foreman, Akins, in 
 explanation. " It 's like playin' a good game o' bill- 
 iards, or anything o' that kind ; it takes knack ; 
 some has got it in 'em, and some has n't, and you 
 can't put it there. Most of 'em that I deal with get 
 just about so fur, and there they stick, and forty 
 yoke of oxen could n't drag 'em an inch ahead." 
 
 Akins had all the confidence of a rudely success- 
 ful man, and showed but little patience with his less 
 efficient and less fortunate brethren. 
 
 " It's no trick at all to get a livin'," said he. "It 's 
 never been so to me ; I 've always found it easy 
 enough. There 's parties round here, with a crazy 
 German paper, that tells the men it is n't, and they 
 ought to strike, and make folks that 's got more than 
 they have divide up with 'em. My idee is that that
 
 128 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 style o' papers ought to be shut up. I s'pose. though, 
 it 's a good deal like blowiu' off powder iu an open 
 lot ; it can't hurt nobody. Hoolan, over there," in- 
 dicating a saturnine-looking man at a work-bench, 
 " he 's one o' them red-flag fellers, I guess." 
 
 Foreman Akins went on to say, furthermore, that, 
 in his belief, things were better for the workingman 
 when times were rather hard and wages compara- 
 tively low. " He knows he can't get a place most 
 anywheres, then," said he, " and he sticks to the one 
 he has. You can depend onto him more ; he 'tends 
 steadier to his work ; and if he don't make quite so 
 much money, he don't drink up so much o' what he 
 has got as when times is flush." 
 
 Old Fahnenstock, being induced to talk, aired, 
 among other things, some peculiar religious views of 
 his own. His cardinal doctrine was the speedy de- 
 struction of the world. He would argue this topic 
 by the hour, expounding from the law and the proph- 
 ets, chiefly the prophet Daniel. The beast with 
 the ten horns, the one with teeth and claws of iron, 
 the little horn that sprung out from the greater, the 
 ram that pushed against the west, Alexander, Caesar, 
 Napoleon, the Pope, the Sultan, and the Czar, all 
 had their place in his system, together with contem- 
 porary portents of all kinds, great and small. 
 
 " I don't see how we can last longer than this year 
 or next any way," he said. " The Rooshian 
 is going to drive the Turk out o' Europe. Ain't he 
 doin' it now? And ain't it as clear as crystil that 
 that 's the last waruin' sign ? "
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 129 
 
 His comrades reported that he had more than once 
 already fixed the date, and gone up on the roof of 
 his boarding-house and flapped his arms in imitation 
 of wings, endeavoring to fly, but part of this may 
 have been only their waggish invention. 
 
 In curious contrast with his dismal prognostics for 
 the universe was his desire to possess a certain small 
 house and bit of land at Whitefish Bay. It was an 
 aspiration for which he had long hoarded his sav- 
 ings ; he meant to fish, to cultivate vegetables there, 
 and make the spot the retreat of his old age, when 
 he should retire from the factory. This small prop- 
 erty, sometimes in the market, and then withdrawn 
 again, had advanced in value at a greater pace than 
 his accumulations, and was now about a thousand 
 dollars ahead of him. 
 
 " I should like to ha' married, too, if it was so 's 
 I could. I can't say I 've ever had what I should ha' 
 considered the best in this world," he went on, with 
 a kind of patient smile that Mrs. Varemberg consid- 
 ered pathetic. " They call them improvident that 
 plunges into it whether or no, but sometimes I 've 
 thought may be / 'd better ben improvident, too ; 
 there 's just about so much trouble to live through, 
 no matter which way you fix it. But all that 's too 
 late now, for an old party like me." 
 
 " Oh, I 'm sure, Mr. Fahnenstock, you 're still a 
 very young-looking man," protested Mrs. Varemberg. 
 
 "Well, marm," said the veteran, much pleased, at 
 least, if not convinced, " I 'm glad there 's them as 
 thinks so. I suppose it would n't do for us to have
 
 i:;o THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 things just as we wanted 'em in this mundane spear, 
 or we would n't want to leave it. But I tell you 
 we 've got to do it pretty quick now, and in short 
 order." 
 
 The talk was rather more sober when they went 
 over to Hoolau, described as one of the "red-flag 
 fellers." He was a small, spare man, with high 
 cheek-bones, and skin yellowed as by jaundice. He 
 was distrustful and disposed, at first, to waive all dis- 
 cussion. He thought it idle, so far as the conver- 
 sion of persons with such fixed and supercilious opin- 
 ions as these, and also personally dangerous for one 
 in his situation. He was lured into it, however, by 
 pleasant arts and small controversial traps slyly set 
 for him by Mrs. Varemberg. When asked as to the 
 condition and prospects of the laboring man, he drew 
 but a gloomy picture. 
 
 " The mechanic don't live out half his days," he 
 said. " He 's old before his time, good for nothing to 
 work, and- ready to be planted away, just as others 
 is gettin' ready to live. Look at Fahnenstock. He 
 ain't more than fifty yet, but you 'd take him for sev- 
 enty." 
 
 " And how is old age provided for? " Mrs. Varem- 
 berg inquired. 
 
 " It ain't provided for. If a man has had a family 
 to bring up, he has n't had no chance to save any- 
 thing ; and, by that time, his children have all they 
 can do to take care of themselves. So when he is 
 too old to work, he 's turned out to starve. May be 
 he gets a light place somewhere as night-watchman
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 131 
 
 for a while, but more like he goes to the poor- 
 house." 
 
 " What means had you thought of by which things 
 could be made better ? " 
 
 " Congress ought to pass a law." 
 
 He was evidently unwilling to let out any of the 
 more violent socialistic theories he was said to enter- 
 tain. 
 
 " What kind of a law ? " 
 
 " A law to give every man a fair day's wages for a 
 fair day's work." 
 
 " Would that not be a rather difficult matter for 
 Congress to determine ? " 
 
 " Yes, made up of money kings, as it is now : but 
 the workin' classes has got to get control of legis- 
 lation themselves. Labor has got to be unified and 
 stand together." 
 
 Hoolan went on to complain of " piece-work " as 
 an agency particularly hard on the men, and largely 
 responsible for their crippled condition. It over- 
 stimulated effort, he said, drove them up to an im- 
 possible standard. The employers would try it long 
 enough to find out what they could do, and then, re- 
 turning to the old plan, tried to make this the rule 
 for an ordinary day's work ; and so the pressure was 
 increasing to an intolerable degree, while wages as 
 constantly declined. 
 
 " I had often wondered what became of the older 
 mechanics," said Mrs. Varemberg ; " you so rarely 
 see any of them about." 
 
 " No," responded the saturnine Hoolan ; "all you 
 see is precious young and frisky ones."
 
 132 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 ' I 'm sure I don't half see what it 's all about," 
 said Mrs. Clinton, wearily, as they went away ; but 
 Mrs. Varemberg carried with her an interest in these 
 men, and a new appreciation of the problem, that 
 made her a much more valuable assistant to Barclay.
 
 VII. 
 
 A RANDOM PROPHECY. 
 
 SOMEWHAT like Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia, 
 Barclay aspired also " to grow acquainted with all 
 who had anything unusual in their fortune or con- 
 duct." The many foreign nationalities represented in 
 the place appeared to him a considerable source of 
 interest. Recollections of their scenery and tradi- 
 tions at home invested even the poorest of them with 
 a touch of romance, whereas he found the common 
 order of Americans looking down upon all alike with 
 an ignorant prejudice and disdain. 
 
 He went to the German theatre, and an amateur 
 play at the Bohemian Turn-halle. He passed, in his 
 observing way, among the small, neat shops and cot- 
 tages of the German quarter, tenanted by a most 
 industrious and thrifty population. A part of this 
 district was on the way to the factory. The sign 
 " English spoken here " was sometimes seen, and 
 pots of flowers in the cottage windows showed that 
 humble striving after beauty amidst adverse surround- 
 ings that appeals to the kindly heart. A broom- 
 maker had set up three crossed brooms on a post be- 
 fore his door, recalling the sign of that Dutch admiral 
 who swept the seas. Next him, an ancient lightning- 
 rod and weather-vane maker exhibited, in his small
 
 l.'U THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 window, gilded yachts, birds, and fishes, the famous 
 Dexter trotting at full speed, leaping stags, short- 
 horn cows, and a profusion of other specimens of his 
 handiwork. 
 
 Barclay, having occasion to order something con- 
 nected with the lightning-rods of his factory, entered 
 this latter establishment. He found the proprietor 
 to be a Dane, one Ole Alfsen, a garrulous old fellow, 
 who professed to be a weather-prophet, and was much 
 inclined to boast of his exploits of former days. A 
 son of his, William Alfsen, came in while Barclay 
 was there, to bid his father good-by. He was just 
 setting off, as it appeared, for a voyage in his own 
 sloop, the South Side Belle. 
 
 " I have try first to make that boy a mechanic," 
 said the father, taking the pains incidentally to ex- 
 plain some traits of this son, " but I have to give it 
 up ; he bin a natural-born sailor. It come by his 
 mother's family. William used to sail round with his 
 uncle, what was a captain and brother of my wife, in 
 the old country, when he was a small kid ; and once 
 he was a couple o' years in one o' them navy-yards, 
 workin' round the big guns." 
 
 " He 's a strong, manly-looking young fellow," said 
 Barclay. " I trust he is successful." 
 
 " Well, he was pooty successful at first, but not so 
 good now. He used to go over, with a load o' small 
 goods, to them Fox and Manitou Islands aud Boy 
 Blank [Bois Blanc] way, and Grand Traverse Bay, 
 and Point Betsey, you know, what got no stores on 
 'em. He would blow his horn when he come in, and
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 135 
 
 all them folks would come down to the dock and buy 
 everything what he bring." 
 
 " That was an interesting business." 
 
 " Yes, but he lose his vessel ; he went to help some 
 other fellers, and his boat got away from him and 
 foundered. Since then he got awful hard times. I 
 lose my money in her, too, what I saved up, but I 
 don't say nothing about that." 
 
 The next day, Barclay, being obliged to drivedown 
 towards the Polish quarter, saw the same young man 
 walking before him, and recognized him from the 
 peculiar impression he had made. He had not yet 
 sailed, then ? 
 
 The Polish settlement consisted of an area of yet 
 poorer and more sparsely scattered shops and cot- 
 tages than those of the Germans, which they adjoined. 
 It was grouped around a few tall, unpainted wooden 
 tenement-houses, containing many families each, and 
 a solid, rather imposing ecclesiastical edifice of yellow 
 brick, the church of St. Stanislaus, which had twin 
 steeples, terminating in little domes covered with 
 shining tin, in the Muscovite manner. Near the bor- 
 der-line, where the two nationalities overlapped, be- 
 gan a small ravine, with neither grading nor side- 
 walks, but dignified with the name of Sobieski Street. 
 Upon this irregular site, driven to it by the stress of 
 economy, immigrants had pitched their poor huts and 
 cabins. Among them ran a variety of meandering 
 paths, the right of way on which was disputed with 
 human beings by the goats, geese, and swine. At the 
 top of the ravine, where it joined a civilized thor-
 
 136 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 ou:hfare again, stood a neat cottage of two stories, 
 the lower unpainted, which gave a suggestion as of a 
 cellar above ground, the residence of our worthy 
 friend Ludwig Trapschuh. Barclay chanced to see 
 William Alfsen steal cautiously up Sobieski Street, 
 and disappear in the neighborhood of this dwelling. 
 
 This Polish immigration, he recalled, as he drove 
 on, was the outgrowth chiefly of the later Russian 
 persecutions, dating from about 1864. Partly as the 
 last arrived, and partly on account of the uncouthness 
 of their speech, they were generally rated lower than 
 any others in the social scale. They were for the 
 most part but common laborers. There were to be 
 seen pouring forth from this district, every morning, 
 a swarm of men, who proceeded to Market Square to 
 wait for jobs of wood-cutting, or to distribute them- 
 selves on the railroads and public works of the city. 
 They wore something like a uniform of military-look- 
 ing homespun frock-coats, full in the skirts, big top- 
 boots, round caps bordered with astrakhan, and, if it 
 were cold, comforters and thick mittens. They had 
 been serfs, or something very near it, at home, and 
 still retained their thoroughly peasant-like aspect. 
 They had constituted here, in a small way, an un- 
 trammeled new Poland : they came not from Russia 
 alone, but from Prussia, and from that Austrian Ga- 
 licia where Metternich boasted that he had secured 
 " fifty years of tranquillity by three days of blood." 
 But the oppressors who had partitioned their country 
 had contrived to partition their spirits as well. They 
 were found full of violent prejudices and ancient local
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 137 
 
 feuds : the Warsaw man fell out with him of Cracow, 
 and the peasant of Lithuania with the peasant of Po- 
 dolia or Ukraine. 
 
 William Alfsen entered a poorer cottage than that 
 of Ludwig Trapschuh, the rear of which it adjoined. 
 A considerable piece of back-yard intervened be- 
 tween the two. He greeted there a heavy, dull-look- 
 ing woman, who was Susanka Kraska, the mother of 
 his tow-headed cabin-boy, Nicodem Kraska. 
 
 " Nick a good boy, make good sailor ! " he bawled, 
 for Susanka was deaf. 
 
 " You don't let it get drown ? " she bawled in re- 
 turn. Her English was very defective, and even at 
 its best had to be supplemented with some words of 
 German. 
 
 " No, I don't let him get drownded." And with 
 little more ado he went and sat down at a window 
 which commanded the back-yard before mentioned. 
 He presently saw appear there a person for whom he 
 sought, Stanislava Zelinsky. She no longer wore 
 the trim dress in which he was wont to see her, but 
 a linsey-woolsey petticoat and a bright handkerchief 
 over her bosom. There rested on her shoulders a 
 heavy wooden yoke, with a water-pail at either end, 
 which she was going to the well to fill. 
 
 He hurried out, and ensconced himself, as furtively 
 as possible, behind a tall pile of wood, whence he whis- 
 tled and called in a way to attract her attention. The 
 girl discovered liim. 
 
 " I did n't know you was here. I thought you was 
 sailed away," she said ; refraining, after a first start-
 
 138 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 led glance, from looking towards him, so as to betray 
 any recognition of his presence. 
 
 " I want to see you once more, Stanislava. I got 
 something to say with you. I make believe go off. 
 I sail through the bridge in big style, so your father 
 and Barney think I gone away ; then I tie up the 
 boat down by the harbor mouth, leave Nicodem take 
 care of her, and come here. You must come right 
 away out and take walk." 
 
 " Wait till I make done my work and get good 
 excuse. They don't watch me now, because they 
 think you was gone." 
 
 They arranged to meet at the corner of a certain 
 vacant lot, on distant Windlake Avenue. Alfsen 
 waited patiently till she had finished her household 
 tasks, and sallied forth ; then he stole down the ra- 
 vine again, and joined her at the trysting-place. If 
 the dull Dame Kraska regarded this manoeuvre at 
 all, possibly she thought it only a part of the neces- 
 sary business of employing her lazy son Nicodem as a 
 cabin-boy, or possibly she winked at it because she 
 had no great love for her neighbor, Ludwig Trap- 
 schuh. 
 
 " What happen you, Stanislava ? " asked Alfsen, 
 at once. " Why you wear that kind o' dress ? " 
 
 " I got to ; I must, all time, do housework now." 
 
 " And you don't like milliner business no more ? 
 Why you leave Morgenroth's store ? " 
 
 " I guess I was too sassy. When they say some- 
 thing against the Polanders, I say something back 
 again, and they turn me out."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 139 
 
 " Oh, no, you could n't be too sassy, Stanislava. 
 Was that, sure, the reason ? " 
 
 " Well, my uncle and aunt don't want me to do 
 no more such work," she admitted. " They stop me 
 from everything. Once, you know, I was setting 
 types in a German paper, and once I was painting 
 them canisters in the stamped -ware factory, and 
 once " 
 
 ' ! I don't forget paintin' them canisters. Did n't 
 I first see you when I used to work there, too?" 
 broke in the young mariner, interrupting her. " But, 
 Stanislava, you have that money what you get from 
 Governor Lane to pay your board. You must not 
 pay your board and work so like a servant, too." 
 
 " They got big expenses, and they was my family," 
 she answered, simply. 
 
 " By jinks \ that was a swindle. I would keep that 
 money, if it was me, or I would do what I please." 
 
 " How I can keep it ? My uncle get it himself ; 
 I never get it in my hands." 
 
 " I would tell Governor Lane, then. Or I would 
 tell Mrs. Varemberg ; you say she 's such a nice 
 lady." 
 
 " They was my uncle and my aunt," reiterated the 
 girl ; alleging this in a naive way, as if it were so 
 convincing a reason that nothing could by any pos- 
 sibility be urged against it. " I wonder what he give 
 me that money for, any way ? " she added, presently. 
 
 " Oh, he got plenty." Alfsen was little enough 
 troubled on this score, to which, indeed, he had never 
 paid an instant's attention. " I had something very
 
 140 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 partiklar to say with you, Stanislava," he began anew, 
 hesitatingly. '' What I got to say is, I guess you 
 must give me up, Stanislava." 
 
 " Give you up, Willie ? " she cried, as with sudden 
 horror. 
 
 " Yes ; you must get married with some smart fel- 
 ler what can take good care of you. I got no good 
 luck any more, no better luck that last trip as be- 
 fore. So I go down the lower lakes to look for some 
 new kind o' job, and perhaps I stay there, and don't 
 never come back. What 's the use ? " 
 
 " Willie, you must come back ! " she exclaimed, in 
 frightened protest. "I don't give you up, you 
 und'stand ? I don't give you up." 
 
 " But if I 'm no good no more ? " 
 
 " I keep company with you, all the same," she per- 
 sisted obstinately. 
 
 Reassured by this display of constancy, he next 
 broached, in a sheepish way, another matter he had 
 been turning over in his mind. 
 
 " We might get married right away by Pas- 
 tor Freitag," he suggested, " and no one know noth- 
 ing about it. Then if they was to treat you too bad 
 I could stop it. I would try to take you away the 
 soonest possible." 
 
 The girl seemed startled this tkne in a different 
 way. 
 
 " / would n't be married by no Pastor Freitag," 
 she responded, with a decided toss of the head, in 
 spite of her recent avowal of affection. It was evi- 
 dent that she cherished a feminine ideal of something
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 141 
 
 very much more elaborate in the way of a wedding 
 than a clandestine ceremony by Pastor Freitag. 
 
 This was a little man, a minister of the Lutheran 
 sect, who lived a bachelor existence doing all his 
 own cooking in the basement of his chapel, on one 
 of the minor side streets. He was very latitudinarian 
 in his theology, and accommodating in all his views ; 
 offering, for instance, to marry a couple " either with 
 or without a God." His chapel was, as it were, a 
 local Gretna Green, and no small part of his scanty 
 income was derived from expediting wedlock for per- 
 sons disposed to be slightly informal in their arrange- 
 ments. 
 
 But little further time was allowed for the discus- 
 sion of Pastor Freitag or anything else. The pair, 
 who had wandered, Jenny and Jessamy fashion, quite 
 at their ease, and sometimes hand in hand, were sud- 
 denly confronted by a formidable apparition. It was 
 no less than Ludwig Trapschuh. He had left his 
 bridge, again, on one of his expeditions to see South 
 Side aldermen, and the like, and found himself at the 
 moment in precisely that part of the town. The sight 
 struck consternation to their souls. His niece gave 
 a faint, involuntary shriek, while Alfsen could only 
 affect a dogged sort of smile. 
 
 " Did n't I tell you I won't let it ? " cried Trap- 
 schuh, in a choking fury, addressing himself first to 
 the young girl. Then, turning to Alfsen, he said, 
 " So-o-o you walk yourself with my niece-of-law ? If 
 I catch it again, I guess I knock you over the heels 
 by the head."
 
 142 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 Before any violence could be done, however, Paul 
 Barclay once more appeared upon the scene. Though 
 he was but passing by, driving homeward, his pres- 
 ence no doubt acted as a restraining influence. It 
 was evident to him that a drama of some kind was 
 in progress : the young sailor had a defiant air, Stan- 
 islava was downcast and tearful, and Ludwig Trap- 
 schuh made the most typical of stern, low-comedy 
 fathers. Barclay unavoidably gave it his attention 
 through his recognizing the participants. As if this 
 were only a signal for their breaking up, the little 
 group, immediately after, dispersed. William Alfsen 
 hurried down to the port, this time to cast off and put 
 to sea without further artifice ; Stanislava was dragged 
 home by her irate guardian, and, arrived there, scolded 
 roundly again, and all but beaten, by him and her 
 aunt. The occurrence, however, sank deep into her 
 recollection ; Alfsen's advice had its effect, and she 
 manifested for the first time a spark of something 
 like the true American independence. When pressed 
 hard, she threatened to go to David Lane, say to him 
 that she was able and anxious to earn her own liv- 
 ing, and have the stipend stopped. 
 
 " Don't do it, Stanislava," begged Trapschuh, in 
 great alarm. " We got big expenses, and we could n't 
 bring you up without that money. Remember I was 
 a poor man, and I was your uncle." 
 
 " You must give me freedom, then ; I must do 
 what I like." 
 
 Her uncle was thus in some degree brought to 
 terms. She utilized her privilege by exchanging
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 143 
 
 the rude, domestic drudgery in which she had been 
 engaged for occupations more congenial to her taste. 
 She appeared at the Stamped- Ware Works, to solicit 
 once more the stenciling of patterns on light boxes 
 and canisters, which she had formerly done, a 
 kind of work sometimes to be taken home with her, 
 and sometimes done at the shop ; and Barclay, to 
 whom she addressed herself, was glad enough to ac- 
 cede to her request. He had a pleasant word more 
 than once for this flower of the Polish settlement, 
 partly as Mrs. Varemberg's protegee, and partly 
 through the pensive recollection of the death of the 
 fathers of both by the same untimely fate. 
 
 The rigorous northern winter came on, and set its 
 seal of ice on the navigation of the Great Lakes, not 
 to be opened again till another spring. The last be- 
 lated vessels came skurrying into port ; some were 
 embargoed at places where the sudden freezing up 
 of the harbors found them. The storm-flag was fly- 
 ing almost constantly on its high perch, on the roof 
 of the building of the Keewaydin Insurance Com- 
 pany. This square of vivid scarlet up in the gray 
 sky indicated now snow-storms that blocked the rail- 
 roads, now wind at forty miles an hour, and now 
 blizzards of extreme cold that swept down into the 
 streets, often driving all human life in-doors, and put- 
 ting a stop to business. The windows of the shops 
 were sometimes as thickly covered with hoar frost 
 as if by plates of zinc. The lake, impressive in every 
 aspect, was frozen as far as the eye could see, and no 
 one could say how much farther. What mysterious
 
 144 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 dramas were enacting in the long, dead winter out 
 amid the winds and currents of that great deserted 
 sea ? Amid its roughened and broken ice could be 
 seen here and there forbidding channels of lead-col- 
 ored green or purple water. On the farther verge, 
 as it vanished under the brooding sky, there seemed 
 great breakers tossiag, and icebergs moving in slow 
 procession. 
 
 The South Side Belle did not return to port, even 
 among the belated craft, but some time afterwards 
 the boy Nick Kraska made his way homewards, and 
 related that she had been lost off the rough upper 
 Michigan shore. Alfsen was laid up in hospital over 
 there with various injuries, including a broken arm. 
 He had been injured in going back after Nicodem, 
 who was afraid to strike out alone, through a 
 heavy sea full of floating lumber ; keeping thus the 
 promise made to the mother to look after the boy's 
 safety. 
 
 "The sloop was as rotten as an old pumpkin," 
 said a critic of the occurrence, at the Johannisberger 
 House. " She was loaded with a cargo of boards, 
 and these thrashed around, broke through her sides, 
 and scuttled her by themselves the very minute a 
 good thumping sea set in." 
 
 Later on, William Alfsen appeared, one day, in 
 person, at the Stamped- Ware Works, pale and ema- 
 ciated, his arm still in a sling, and accompanying 
 Stanislava, whom he had met, on some errand con- 
 nected with her work. 
 
 Foreman Akins pointed him out, and described 
 the case to Barclay.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 145 
 
 " There 's a feller that used to be a smart hand to 
 work," said he. " He never 'd orter left ; he did n't 
 know when he was well off." 
 
 " Why not give him his place back again ? " 
 
 " That arm o' his would.n't let him be no use now. 
 Unless, may be, it was some light job in the packin'- 
 room," he added. 
 
 In due time, however, Barclay stopped, on his way 
 up town, to offer the son of the aged weather-vane 
 maker some light work in the packing-room. The 
 young man was rather disposed to resent it at first, 
 as savoring of charity, but he was made to feel that 
 his services were really in demand. 
 
 During the interview, old Alfsen took occasion, as 
 usual, to air his views on the weather and other 
 topics. 
 
 "I make predictment," said he, " that this is not a 
 easy windter, but a strong, cold, and enduring one." 
 
 Lightning-rods were the favorite subject of his dis- 
 course. It appeared that he was fond of assembling 
 the children of the neighborhood round him to hear 
 his stones of the mysterious element with which he 
 had had so much to do. He would tell of the shat- 
 tering of the masts of vessels by lightning. Once, 
 he said, a great wheel of St. Elmo's fire as large as 
 a millstone had come rolling along the waves and 
 pierced a ship in three places. Again, a ball of blue 
 flame as large as a man's fist had leaped from an 
 electrometer and killed its operator, leaving a red 
 mark on his forehead and his shoes burnt from his 
 feet.
 
 146 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " Some will be believing rods to be no use, because 
 bringing down more lightning as what they can carry 
 off," he said, in his odd dialect, " but I beg to differ 
 much with the believings of said persons." 
 
 "Your experience has taught you differently, 
 then?" said Barclay, not unwilling to lead him on a 
 little. 
 
 " Sure ; only they must be good put up. How 
 much power you think got one o' them clouds 'bout 
 ten thousand acres big, eh? All rod joints must be 
 tight and not rusty, and the ends must be branched 
 out in the ground, with plenty charcoals around it, 
 else everything get tore up." 
 
 " You have no doubt done some very important 
 work in that line, yourself ? " 
 
 "I was the best lightnin'-rods feller what you 
 never see," returned the old man boastfully. " I did 
 ought to put up all that big work on the city hall, 
 too, when it was build, but I did n't get enough po- 
 litikle influence." 
 
 " And it took political influence for that, even 
 when you were so good a workman ? " 
 
 " I bet you it take it ; if you got no aldermans on 
 your side, you get no job. When I was mad about 
 it, they give me a small, little box to make, to put 
 some papers in, in that statue; that job didn't 
 amount to nothing at all. I bet you see her come 
 down some day, and scatter them papers all round." 
 
 " You think the figure is not secure ? " 
 
 " I make predictment what she come down. Yes, 
 sir, plenty times already see I her shake in the wind."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 147 
 
 " Oh, anything shakes in a high wind." 
 
 " Well, but I guess the lightning some time hit 
 her, any way. Them other fellers what put up the 
 rods on the big dome and that golded statue of Jus- 
 tice don't know nothing about it," he said, still cher- 
 ishing his resentment of years before. " I was the 
 best feller for fixing up the right kind o' rods, and 
 if she don't got 'em, of course she must come down." 
 
 William Alfsen proved a faithful person in the 
 minor duties assigned him, and an intelligent one as 
 well, from whom Barclay gathered many useful opin- 
 ions about the needs and views of the working class. 
 He made friends with him by degrees, and took him, 
 more or less, as a companion and guide in what Mrs. 
 Varemberg was pleased to call his "explorations 
 among all different races and conditions of men." 
 
 They went together, one night, to a meeting of 
 rabid socialists and unifiers of labor, held in the dis- 
 trict somewhere near the factory. There was a 
 speaker who had a strange way of perking out his 
 chin, and appeared about to choke with each sentence, 
 a huge man, who made but mild suggestions. 
 There was another, a diminutive man, in an over- 
 coat with ragged edges, and wide pantaloons flapping 
 over little feet like a woman's, who proposed, in a 
 piping voice, the most sanguinary measures. Hoolan, 
 from the factory, was present, among others, and made 
 a speech. Remarking Barclay in the audience, he 
 addressed to him personally some questions intended 
 to be posers of a very crushing sort. It was much 
 out of Barclay's line, but he rose, nevertheless, and
 
 148 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 answered these and some other of the dangerous fal- 
 lacies he had heard. He displayed before them in a 
 few well-chosen, forcible words some economic doc- 
 trines, of the simple elementary sort, but novel and 
 original enough in an assembly like that, little given 
 to considering more than one side of a question. 
 There were groans and hisses, but Hoolan stood by 
 him ; on the whole, they gave him fair play, and he 
 derived from this incident a reputation for oratory, as 
 he had already for courage. 
 
 And yet again Barclay went with Alfsen to a Po- 
 lish ball, of which the latter had apprised him. It 
 was a celebration of the military company, and was 
 held in a rude wooden building, in a grove of leafless 
 trees, dignified with the name of a " park," near the 
 southern city limits. It was on a clear winter's night. 
 As they drew near the place, the moon shone down 
 upon the Polish quarter, touching with a sparkle the 
 bright tin domes of the church of St. Stanislaus, and 
 gleaming white on the fields of driven snow all round 
 about it, with much such an effect as might have been 
 presented by an actual village of the steppes. 
 
 Within, the Sobieski Guards moved about, re- 
 splendent in their uniforms of blue and red ; and 
 young women, with hands and wrists roughened by 
 work, sat in rows on benches, their hats and shawls 
 hung on pegs behind them. Stanislava Zelinsky was 
 there, very charming in white muslin, with blue rib- 
 bons in her hair. So jealously guarded was she by 
 her uncle, assisted by the rowdy Barney, that Will- 
 iam Alfsen could only look at her from afar with
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 149 
 
 longing and disconsolate eyes. Ludwig Trapschuh, 
 to tell the truth, cherished no peculiar prejudice 
 against Alfsen ; he would have felt the same way to- 
 wards any other who threatened to take away from 
 him his niece and source of revenue. But precau- 
 tions as to others were needless, for she showed them 
 no favor. 
 
 Barclay, however, was a visitor who was treated 
 with august consideration by his pleasing young em- 
 ployee, among the rest, and he talked with her at 
 considerable length. She could tell him something 
 of the traditions of her country : the wolf-hunting in 
 the Carpathians; the ancient serpent- worship in 
 marshy Lithuania ; the tarantuss with a trotting and 
 two galloping horses harnessed abreast ; the wodki, 
 or potato brandy ; and a certain famous plum jam, 
 made in great kettles set in the ground, and stirred 
 about with wooden shovels. Finally, she induced 
 the musicians to play for his especial benefit the sweet 
 and plaintive Kalina and some other national airs. 
 
 The dancing was marked by great zest and facility. 
 
 " Why, indeed, should it not be ? " remarked Bar- 
 clay, as he went back to his companion. " Where, 
 allowing for the rudeness of the company, should we 
 expect to find more grace and spirit than here ? Do 
 we not owe them all the modern dances ? What is 
 Polka but the word that means ' a Polish woman ' ? 
 The Mazurka was the native dance of the Mazours, 
 the Cracovienne that of Cracow, and the Varsovienne 
 that of Warsaw." 
 
 He paused, as he was leaving the place, to watch
 
 150 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 a waltz, in which the couples separated at a given sig- 
 nal, pointed mocking fingers at each other, clapped 
 hands and stamped feet, then joined again and went 
 on as before, all in harmonious rhythm. On the way 
 home Alfsen deferentially confided to him his feel- 
 ings about Stanislava, of which his listener had al- 
 ready heard something. " Some o' the girls gets 
 married because they 're tired o' workin', and often 
 gets a harder time than what they had before," said 
 he. " I don't want any o' that ; I don't want any 
 girl what marries me to be scrubbin' all the time at 
 the wash-tub." He took so dark a view of his own 
 prospects that no one was readier to admit the justice 
 of the opposition of Trapschuh than himself. 
 
 " But your arm will soon be well again," returned 
 his employer sympathetically ; " then you can get 
 your old place back, earn good wages, and things will 
 go all right with you." 
 
 u Yes, but I don't know if I can make good me- 
 chanic any more," hesitatingly. " I 'm better on some 
 kind of a boat. Only when a man lose his boat 
 and I lose two he don't easy get no other one. If 
 I could get on the revenue cutter, I like it," he added 
 wistfully. " Them government jobs pay pretty good, 
 and you 're sure you get your pay." 
 
 " On the Florence Lane ? What sort of a place 
 would you want ? " 
 
 " Well, may be to watch around her, while she 's 
 laid up for the winter ; and, after that, to work on 
 her most any way, I could learn all. I would n't 
 care much whether it was sailin' or takin' care o'
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 151 
 
 the guus ; I understand most all that kind o' busi- 
 ness." 
 
 Barclay began to speculate whether there was any 
 reason why he should not get a deserving fellow, with 
 a taste for the work, a government appointment on 
 a revenue cutter. He apparently found none, for he 
 said, 
 
 " I '11 speak to Lieutenant Gregg about it." 
 But it so happened that peculiar circumstances 
 arose to prevent his speaking to Lieutenant Gregg 
 about it in person, and to lead him to turn the mat- 
 ter over to other hands, instead. 

 
 VIII. 
 
 A MEETING AT THE FOOT OF THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 BARCLAY had first his popular period, theu some- 
 thing very like an unpopular period, in the social life 
 of Keewaydin. Looked upon as a person of excep- 
 tional distinction, he was bidden to all the- usual en- 
 tertainments and many especially devised in his honor. 
 Keewaydin, like most other American towns, did not 
 frankly engage in pleasure for pleasure's sake ; there 
 was generally an apologetic air about it. Still, some- 
 body coming or somebody going, a notable stranger 
 in town, a charitable object to be furthered, furnished 
 occasion for sufficient gayeties. 
 
 "The typical occasion, I should say," Mrs. Varem- 
 berg explained to him, " is the visit of some young 
 girl who was formerly school-mate, say, of a friend 
 residing in this place. As soon as it is known that 
 such a person has arrived, all the acquaintances of the 
 family hasten to the house, and steps begin at once 
 to be taken for her entertainment." 
 
 " This inter-visiting of school friends, now that 
 railroad fares are cheap, and the remotest points are 
 really but a few days apart, seems one of the great 
 North American agencies for unifying civilization," 
 said- Barclay, as if philosophically. "The boarding- 
 school ought to be set upon a lofty pedestal of honor,
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 153 
 
 as a leading factor in the modification of types and 
 the settlement of race problems. What is the fre- 
 quent upshot of these visits ? The young stranger, 
 flattered and feted, appears at her best. The young 
 men are taken with the novelty ; some one of them 
 asks her to marry him, and she stays. She has been 
 blown afar and taken root, just as the seeds of exotic 
 plants are blown by the winds to spring up on coral 
 islands." 
 
 " You are undoubtedly correct. But how beauti- 
 fully poetical you are getting, in these late days ! " 
 
 "Oh, I have to be rather poetical, as a relaxation 
 from the factory. Besides, I am a bit of the drift 
 from distant shores, myself." 
 
 " Then we must have you follow the usual career. 
 Who is to be the happy agent of your taking root 
 and flowering on our coral reef? Naturally Miss Tel- 
 son, our greatest fortune, whose money will be use- 
 ful to you in your philanthropic enterprises. A phil- 
 anthropist, you know, can never have too much." 
 
 Barclay objected to Miss Telson. She was the 
 daughter of the leading capitalist of the place, for 
 others, in the mean time, had surpassed David Lane. 
 She was a particularly dull, uninteresting girl ; it was 
 said of her even now that she did not know how to 
 spend her income. 
 
 " Miss Shadwell, then," said Mrs. Varemberg. 
 This young woman, a grand-daughter of Shadwell of 
 the Navigation Company, and probably the second in 
 the list of fortunes, was a little midget scarcely out of 
 her teens, with a face that already resembled a with-
 
 154 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 ered apple. She had a rather terrible reputation ; 
 she was a law unto herself, and was in the habit of 
 making very pert and mischievous remarks. A Miss 
 Minford, who came third in the trio of heiresses, mis- 
 takenly endeavored to render herself attractive by an 
 elegant fragility ; she thought it charming to profess 
 to be utterly unable to do about everything anybody 
 would have liked to have her do. 
 
 " No," said Barclay decisively, " I should not take 
 kindly to so much invalidism. I could not quite sink 
 out of sight my ideal of blooming health." 
 
 " You do not like invalids, then ? " said Mrs. Var- 
 emberg, with sadness in her voice. 
 
 " Not the amateur kind ; all my sympathy and 
 admiration are reserved for the real article," he 
 returned, with cheerful promptness, endeavoring to 
 atone for his stupid slip of the tongue. 
 
 " Ah, I see your desideratum is beauty, not mon- 
 ey," she rattled on, when she had recovered from this 
 shock, or hidden her feeling. She affected to survey 
 the field next from this point of view. 
 
 She pretended many times thereafter, in a teasing 
 way, to consider him a person who was sagely and 
 maturely deliberating upon the choice of a wife from 
 among the eligible candidates. She would affect to 
 send him forth as a champion to the fray, to equip 
 him with her best counsels, comfort him in his disap- 
 pointments. She represented his heart as wavering 
 in the direction now of this fascinating fair one, now 
 of that. But when, after a considerable time, no re- 
 sults appeared from the campaign, she accused him of
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 155 
 
 phlegmatic insensibility. She said he had a heart 
 made in compartments, like those of an ocean steam- 
 er ; one or more of them might be broken with impu- 
 nity, leaving the rest as good as ever. 
 
 " You will find a great deal of good blood in Kee- 
 waydin," said Mrs. Clinton, taking her part also in his 
 social education. " Many young men of the best fam- 
 ilies of New York and New England came here, in 
 the early times, to better their circumstances or their 
 health. My brother was one of them. You natu- 
 rally belong to this congenial element, and I would 
 advise you to confine your acquaintanceship as much 
 as possible within it. Of course we know your fa- 
 ther's name well, but your mother was a Ridgewood. 
 The moment I heard your mother's name was Ridge- 
 wood, I knew all about you." 
 
 "We are very - remarkable on the mother's side, 
 also," said Mrs. Varemberg. " We are Bushwicks. 
 The Bushwicks let me see : they all married and 
 had large families. Oh, yes, they were very extraor- 
 dinary. There is a book about them ; I am going to 
 read it some time." 
 
 " Florence ! " protested Mrs. Clinton severely. 
 
 " Well, we shall not let Mr. Barclay have all the 
 credit on his side." 
 
 " I hardly supposed such distinctions amounted to 
 much here," said Barclay. 
 
 " They do not," insisted Mrs. Varemberg. " There 
 are really none except those of the pocket-book. 
 Whoever has made his fortune is given a little time, 
 it is true, to wash off the dust of the conflict, but he
 
 156 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 is not kept out of any of the proper rewards of it." 
 Again the aunt protested. 
 
 " You two are such a pair of radicals and scoffers," 
 said she, classing them together. But to be classed 
 with Mrs. Varemberg in any category was subtly 
 grateful to Barclay. 
 
 There proved to be quite distinctions enough, how- 
 ever, of one sort and another. To supplement the 
 rest, the sectional divisions of East and West Sides 
 and the like were carried into social life ; each as- 
 sumed to be all but sufficient to itself, and represen- 
 tatives of the one went to the other only on the oc- 
 casion of some notable funeral or wedding. 
 
 A " society paper " and " society columns " in the 
 regular papers recorded the doings of a Shakespeare 
 Club, a highly accomplished one, devoted to pri- 
 vate theatricals. Clubs for the cultivation of music 
 of many varieties especially flourished. The inspira- 
 tion seemed to come in the first place from the large 
 German population, so gifted in this art ; and it might 
 have been remarked that it was through a common 
 interest in music that the two races began to over- 
 come their early estrangement, and to intermingle 
 and marry. The leading troupes of performers of 
 all kinds, on their travels, were wont to play a night 
 or two at the Grand Opera House or the Academy 
 of Music. Neither theatre was quite so grand as its 
 name. Barclay went to some houses where were 
 played " rhyming crambo " and like games, in a half- 
 romping way, often pleasanter than the more set en- 
 tertainments. There were many interiors fitted up
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 157 
 
 with charming taste, and these had inmates who 
 showed themselves nervously anxious to keep at the 
 level of the latest acquirements in literature, art, and 
 general culture. They lamented their small advan- 
 tages as compared with the favored denizens of the 
 metropolis, but they often have given the best of 
 these latter, who are apt to be distracted from read- 
 ing, study, and most else that is useful by too great 
 a whirl of affairs, in their complex life, a wholesome 
 lesson, instead. 
 
 Barclay had the simplest, most unostentatious of 
 manners, whenever he moved, and it was by no means 
 his own fault if he became a centre of attraction. 
 The young women were perhaps a little overawed 
 at first by his unusual eligibility, accomplishments, 
 and good looks. Even the more reserved had their 
 sweetest blandishments for him, while others threw 
 themselves daringly at his head. All alike proved 
 without avail ; they found him impervious, and, af- 
 ter a sufficient attempt, they drew off in despair. 
 
 Justine DeBow assumed, on the strength of their 
 early acquaintance, closer intimacy with him than 
 most of the others, an assumption which he, to a 
 certain extent, conceded. " Are you never coming 
 to see me ? " she had asked him, more than once. 
 He made short visits of ceremony and " party calls," 
 visiting large, handsome houses, where the young 
 hostesses for it was the young, for the most part, 
 who conducted all these matters came down to re- 
 ceive him. They sat with hands crossed in their 
 laps, talked of Wachtel's concert, Ristori, their Euro-
 
 158 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 pean tours, and their trips to New York and to the 
 Eastern seaboard in summer. In time he dropped 
 in at Justine DeBow's among the rest. She lived 
 in a large wooden house, nearly square, painted in 
 brownish tones. In the low fence, surrounding its 
 door-yard, was a gate swinging both ways, which 
 clicked complacently to itself for some time after 
 one had passed through. 
 
 Barclay courteously asked after her mother, and 
 received the reply that she would have come down, 
 but her health was far from good, and she rarely saw 
 visitors. 
 
 " What are your impressions of Keewaydin now ? " 
 his young entertainer asked him, hastening to change 
 the subject. 
 
 "I still find it highly interesting." 
 
 "My idea of an interesting place is something 
 very different," she returned, with an almost offended 
 air. " It would be a long way off, for one thing, and 
 it would furnish rather more to keep one from dying 
 of utter stagnation." 
 
 " I have not stagnated yet, with all my Germans 
 and miscellaneous foreigners to explore. I Ve been 
 round the world a second time since my arrival. But 
 perhaps I am still too much in my first enthusiasm to 
 advance any opinions of consequence." 
 
 She looked at him in surprise. " We don't see 
 anything of the Germans," she said. " Some of the 
 young men go to the Germania Society, though, I 
 believe, on Sunday nights, to see the beautiful Jewess 
 Rosa Blumenthal I would, if I were they ; I would 
 do most anything to keep alive."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 159 
 
 In this mood she was not at all like the formal 
 little person he had first met on the steamer. 
 
 ' She is pretty, as we have agreed," said Barclay, 
 reporting the visit afterwards to Mrs. Varemberg, 
 " but I have not often seen a greater budget of dis- 
 content in so small a compass." 
 
 " Which means that she interests you. I recol- 
 lect an unusual character or situation was always 
 sure to do it." 
 
 " Ah, well, my interests are so vast and varied 
 nowadays that some of them will have to be neg- 
 lected." 
 
 The verdict that Barclay was indifferent, and even 
 incorrigible, iu the sentimental way, was rendered at 
 St. Bartholomew's Guild, a charitable association of 
 select young ladies of the place, and was confirmed 
 at the Saturday Morning Club, a society, after the 
 Boston model, devoted to their intellectual improve- 
 ment. 
 
 " Oh, he is fastidiously polite, and all that ; no 
 one could be more so. He looks at you in an ap- 
 preciative way, and gives the most careful attention 
 to all you say," pronounced a fair speaker, at the 
 Guild, more frank than the rest, removing a score of 
 pins from her mouth, to be the more untrammeled in 
 the expression of her opinion. " But what does it 
 all amount to ? You feel, somehow, always kept at 
 a distance. He is thoroughly cold; it is probably 
 constitutional." 
 
 " I could never conceive of his falling in love," 
 said another ; ." he is the kind of man to whom it 
 would be impossible."
 
 160 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 It was measurably certain that he had not fallen 
 in love with any of them, and yet Justine DeBow 
 held her peace. Neither was this authoritative judg- 
 ment pronounced till forbearance had, as it were, 
 ceased to be a virtue. Ample time had been allowed 
 for revision of judgment, and the decision, coming 
 from such a source, might be considered final. 
 
 Paul Barclay also ran the gauntlet, with like im- 
 perturbability, of a " married set," which had lately 
 introduced, as something of a novelty in Keewaydin, 
 certain "fast" practices of enjoying life, derived 
 from New York and foreign models, carried into 
 eifect, as is often apt to be the case with imitations 
 in even exaggerated form. Barclay had seen the 
 world, and was considered amply eligible for this set, 
 which was inclined to look upon him as a marked 
 acquisition, and made him gracious overtures. It 
 was noted for dashing little suppers with plenty of 
 champagne ; the calling of one another by their first 
 names ; and the dancing of attendance upon the wives 
 of others by gallant cavaliers, while the husbands 
 showed the most agreeable complaisance in the world. 
 A certain Mrs. Rycraft, a siren of the buxom sort, 
 by no means without good looks, took the lead in 
 the overtures to Barclay. Perhaps in order to be 
 beforehand with the others, she carried them to no- 
 table lengths. She talked in a pensive way of the 
 unsatisfactoriness of life, and confided to him that, 
 gay as she seemed, she was often oppressed by moods 
 of melancholy. He found her woes but a curious 
 parody of the real and poignant ones of Mrs. Varem- 
 berg.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 161 
 
 She permitted herself a good deal of sympathy, 
 she said, for men who are sometimes spoken of as 
 bad men ; they were often very much maligned, and 
 they had many redeeming traits. She thought men 
 ought not to marry ; if she were a man, she would 
 never think of it. 
 
 " But perhaps you make too little allowance for 
 the human nature and the weakness of the mascu- 
 line heart," said Barclay, affecting to humor her. 
 
 " Oh, he should fall in love. I would not put any 
 countermand upon that," she rejoined, as in a kind 
 of consternation. 
 
 " Nothing is easier as I have heard than to 
 fall in love a little with each successive pretty 
 woman ; but in falling in love, as some philosopher 
 says, the first thing to do is to foresee the end. Per- 
 haps it is not always so easy to get out of it. Have 
 you any recipe to cover that ? " 
 
 " Oh, don't ask me for recipes. You must find the 
 right person, and then you will not want to get out." 
 And she left it but a transparent mystery who the 
 right one was. 
 
 Not long after this, he received a very agitated- 
 looking note, signed only with an initial. It was 
 couched somewhat in these terms : 
 
 " Such a strange, unaccountable feeling has taken 
 possession of me. It is so pleasant to think of your 
 beins here How dare I write this? I will not 
 
 O 
 
 send it yes, I will. But you must forget that it 
 was ever written. Never speak of it, never think of 
 it, I adjure you."
 
 162 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 Paul Barclay extricated himself from this entangle- 
 ment with all the discretion possible, though perhaps 
 no amount of discretion is ever sufficient, in such 
 . to avoid making an enemy, who has but the 
 greater power for harm, the more consideration that 
 is used. 
 
 After a varied collection of such small experiences, 
 he inclined to withdraw himself altogether from the 
 social arena. But for the frigid atmosphere created 
 by her father, he would have gone more and more 
 often to Mrs. Varemberg's. Even as it was, his 
 visits began to attract comment. Why had those 
 two so much to say to each other? Did they hold 
 themselves aloof in assumed superiority ? the gossips 
 asked. And this Barclay, had he none of the nat- 
 ural impulses of his youth, that he showed no eyes 
 and ears for the conceded beauties of the place ? 
 There were some, in truth, fair enough to move an 
 anchorite, but they failed to attract him. 
 
 As to all this, even the young man was often sorely 
 puzzled at his own state of mind. A warm and im- 
 pulsive blood really rau in his veins ; few had a 
 quicker eye than he for any beauty of face or form, 
 a readier appreciation of all the attractions that go 
 to make up the surpassing feminine charm. But, in 
 some strange way, all virtue seemed to have gone out 
 of this now. It pleased him to associate only with 
 this weak and crippled existence ; all other women 
 had grown hardly more than tolerable to him. 
 
 " Am I not," he would ask himself, in trying to 
 account for it, " the widower of buried hopes ; is not
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 163 
 
 my past of such a sort that I have no right to the 
 ordinary present, and the future is no longer open to 
 me ? " And, " Why should I not use what is left to 
 me as I choose ? " he asked. 
 
 A chivalrous ideal of remaining always at her side, 
 without hope of change or reward, began to frame 
 itself vaguely in his mind. Why might he not make 
 a career of such disinterested friendship ? He would 
 let no word or act of his trouble her peace of mind ; 
 the most perfect prudence should guard her against 
 any aspersion by evil tongues ; he would only wait, 
 wait indefinitely, and offer such poor solace as his 
 presence might afford. 
 
 " Do you never go to see any people ? Do you 
 take no part in these festivities at all ? " he was moved 
 to ask her, after a time. 
 
 I ? How can I ? How should I act if I did ? If 
 I were gay, the malicious would say I did not ap- 
 preciate the gravity of my situation ; if I were sad, 
 that I was posing for their sympathy, or, worse 
 yet, would give it to me, and that I could not en- 
 dure." 
 
 "Not even that of your Radbrooks, of whose life 
 you have given me such attractive accounts ? I have 
 seen something of them myself, by the way, and 
 think you are right. Only, after all, another person's 
 happiness seems a tame affair, compared to what one 
 pictures for himself." 
 
 " To such places I can go least of all ; they bring 
 the tears to my eyes. Shall I confess to you that it 
 is one of my peculiarities to weep at the sight of hap-
 
 164 THE GO Lit UN JUSTICE. 
 
 piness? I cannot bear it. I have often turned away 
 from happy couples, out-of-doors, and taken a differ- 
 ent street to avoid them. You will laugh at a person 
 so weak and ridiculous, will you not ? " 
 
 But Barclay was far indeed from any disposition 
 to merriment. At this rare admission that her suf- 
 fering was mental as well as physical, he had no little 
 pains to disguise his own emotion, which brought a 
 decided lump into his throat. Yet, as there seemed 
 nothing of permanent avail to be done it became his 
 role to save her in some way from herself, to aid her 
 to pass her days more cheerfully. He sometimes 
 tried a raillery like her own. As she had called him 
 Wat Tyler and Gracchus, he dubbed her the Exile, 
 the Prisoner of the Lake, and by many similar high- 
 sounding titles. 
 
 "You must watch a spider, day by day, spinning 
 its web in a corner of your cell ; some little flower 
 peeping up through a joint in the paving-stones, for 
 your comfort, like your illustrious prototypes," 
 he said. 
 
 " As to the cobweb," she returned, " I hardly think 
 our tidy Swedish housemaids will have left one, but 
 the conservatory is the most likely place for the flow- 
 ers. Let us go and look." 
 
 Perhaps the prismatic glitter of all these conserva- 
 tories did more than any other feature to give the or- 
 dinary passer-by his idea of the magnificence of David 
 Lane and the unclouded happiness that must necessa- 
 rily prevail in so splendid an establishment. But the 
 ordinary passer-by, unfortunately, is not an accurate
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 165 
 
 judge of the realities of things from their appear- 
 ance ; he does not always know sufficient of the wants 
 of him who appears to want the least, and how, after 
 all the needs of the body are gratified, there may yet 
 remain the even more imperious needs of the heart 
 and mind. 
 
 Mrs. Varemberg, pretending to seek the proper 
 flower, culled one here and there, and then formed 
 them all into a bouquet for her companion. How 
 charming, he thought, was the touch of her light, de- 
 liberate hand upon them ; how privileged the object, 
 inanimate or animate, that might receive the beuison 
 of her caress ! 
 
 " All this is rather my father's taste than my own, 
 the room for orchids, particularly," said she. " A 
 conservatory is not greatly to my liking." 
 
 " Nor to mine either, to tell the truth. This heaven 
 of glass instead of the blue sky, this tepid, enervat- 
 ing atmosphere instead of the free air of nature, are 
 but poor substitutes for the originals." 
 
 " The plants, in their artificial existence, so care- 
 fully screened from every draught and inequality, 
 remind me too much of my own. They too have a 
 cowed and disconsolate air." 
 
 " You must give me some of the bolder of them, 
 when I begin my landscape-gardening, to see what 
 they will do out-of-doors." 
 
 ."Your landscape-gardening?" 
 
 " Yes ; I have been waiting to break it to you. 
 Barclay's Island is going to be ' a bower of roses by 
 Bendermeer's stream.' And the planing-mill ' sings
 
 106 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 round it all the day long,' he added. Oh, I assure 
 you, you won't know it." 
 
 'He outlined for her some of his proposed innova- 
 tions : he meant to paint the buildings, let in the 
 honest light of day at the windows unimpeded bv the 
 time-honored cobwebs and grime, put up an orna- 
 mental stone gateway at the entrance to the grounds, 
 clear away all the rubbish, and replace the slag and 
 cinders by grass-plats varied with some few flower- 
 beds, about all that could be done without tearing 
 down the whole establishment. 
 
 " You will be the most original of manufacturers." 
 ' Oh, no ; they do these things in Mexico and Cen- 
 tral America," he responded. " It is charming, the 
 way they have of caressing their industrial establish- 
 ments down there. A man is no more ashamed to 
 live alongside his cotton-mill or foundry than if it 
 were a model stock-farm with us. As you ride along, 
 you come, all at once, upon some imposing, castellated 
 affair, with its gardens, terraces, fountains, statues, 
 and mediaeval-looking chapel, and find it to be simply 
 a sugar-refinery or ore-reducing works, with the pro- 
 prietor's residence added." 
 
 " And you propose to introduce all this here ? " 
 " Oh, we can't expect to equal the Central Ameri- 
 cans all at once, but we shall probably work up to it 
 by degrees." 
 
 " But Paul, you know and an island, and 
 such a paradise," broke in his companion, as if struck 
 by a sudden reflection, " it is quite idyllic. You 
 ought to have some sort of a Virginia, also. You
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 167 
 
 must find some beautiful maiden of the island, who 
 will go about clad in coarse stuffs of Bengal, and 
 Paul must bring her bird's-nests, and shelter her from 
 the rain under a huge banana leaf." 
 
 " And we must tell the seasons only by their fruits 
 and flowers, and the hours of the day only by the 
 shadows," added Barclay, readily entering into the 
 spirit of it. " Will you not deign to be our Virginia, 
 for the time being ? " 
 
 He drew down over her head the leaf of a large 
 plantain they chanced to be in close proximity to at 
 the moment, after the manner of the well-known pic- 
 ture. 
 
 David Lane had entered his conservatory, to walk 
 briefly, as he was given to doing, among his orchids, 
 that poised their curious shapes of butterfly and bird 
 in the air like living things, and was a witfaess of 
 this scene. It seemed to him to show a peculiarly in- 
 timate relationship between the pair. It was at last 
 time for him to act, unless he would abandon all 
 without a struggle. He scowled darkly by himself, 
 but when they came up to him made a lame pre- 
 tense of civility. When Barclay had gone, he took 
 his daughter aside, and, without any reference to his 
 real motive, spoke to her earnestly of her health, and 
 strongly advised her to go at once on a visit to New 
 York that had been before proposed. He himself 
 would go with her. Her physicians had recom- 
 mended it, for the benefit of the change, even if it 
 should be only a short one. Her inertia was at last 
 overcome. It is supposable, too, that the absence
 
 168 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 may, for certain reasons, have appealed to the better 
 judgment of Mrs. Varemberg as desirable. Those 
 two, accordingly, soon departed. 
 
 There came about, however, a friendly correspond- 
 ence, of a desultory sort, during the separation. It 
 was sometimes grave, sometimes gay. The little fic- 
 tion of Paul and Virginia, originated as described, 
 was further continued. Mrs. Varemberg had a ready 
 gift in the humorous way with her pencil, and she 
 drew in the corners of her notes little caricatures, to 
 which Barclay responded in kind as best he could. 
 She showed the island, with its palms and plaintains, 
 always standing in the conventional conservatory 
 tubs ; Paul as a barefoot little urchin, with a very 
 wise and knowing look, surrounded by his storks and 
 turtles ; old Fahnenstock as the faithful negro Do- 
 mingo ; and Virginia a most demure and innocent lit- 
 tle maiden in a striped cotton gown. Barclay on the 
 other hand, in his sketches, endeavored to make her 
 something of an arrant little coquette. 
 
 The thousand miles of distance intervening be- 
 tween them seemed to make the expression of certain 
 sentiments easier ; they sometimes wrote more freely 
 than they had talked. 
 
 " I want to say to you," wrote Barclay, " that your 
 friendship, your intelligent sympathy with my plans, 
 have been a great assistance and happiness to me. I 
 do not know what I should have done without you. 
 I think it has been more your kind encouragement 
 than anything else that has made me go on." 
 
 In one letter he described to her a new plan for a
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 169 
 
 pension fund for his workmen that he was endeavor- 
 ing to put into practice. The fund was to be made 
 up of a small sum reserved from the earnings of 
 each week, supplemented by a beneficent provision 
 arranged by the management. Then, when a man 
 had completed his labors, he would have something 
 to take care of him in his old age. " But these are 
 mere fag ends and side issues," he complained. 
 " Why am I not thoughtful ? Why do I not make 
 the grand discovery that will produce for all a robust 
 and plentiful happiness ? You will think so poorly 
 of a person who can do no better than this. You 
 will cross him off your books in disgust." 
 
 " Were your achievements greater than those of 
 Wilberforce, or Adam Smith, or Peter Cooper, I 
 don't know but I am making a rather mixed cata- 
 logue," she replied, " I should always like the man 
 better than the philanthropist. It seems to me al- 
 ready a great discovery that you have found out how 
 a master can add to the comfort of individuals under 
 him But perhaps these are only the simple ideas 
 of a poor, untutored VIRGINIA." 
 
 She wrote him once from New York of meeting 
 his sisters at a reception. 
 
 " They opened on me with quite a fire of questions 
 about you," she said. " Is it possible that you have 
 told me more of your affairs than you have them ? I 
 am, naturally, much flattered at the suggestion. I 
 was prepared to preserve your confidence as much as 
 possible, but we were dragged apart by the crowd, 
 and meantime, if I meet them again, what am I to 
 tell them ? "
 
 170 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " Do not tell them anything, too ingenuous Vir- 
 ginia," he wrote back in alarm. '' The fact is, that 
 they are of rather an interfering turn. I will tell 
 them, myself, as much as is for their good, when I 
 get around to it." 
 
 He sent once a rude sketch as of Virginia, in this 
 new life, surrounded by admirers, who vied for the 
 honor of holding their respective banana leaves above 
 her head, while Paul sulked on the island, with his 
 own trailing idly beside him, and the tortoises and 
 flamingoes looking on in sympathy at his dejection. 
 
 David Lane, in this absence, would have had her 
 be gay, amused, as different as possible from her 
 usual self. It would have pleased him to see her 
 accept the small attentions of new admirers. As to 
 his own objection to her divorce, to tell the truth, it 
 would have been by no means insuperable, could he 
 have been sure that, after her release, she would 
 marry any other than Paul Barclay. His wish was 
 but poorly gratified. She was offered dinners, flow- 
 ers, opera boxes, by old friends and new. " But what 
 humor am I in for all this ? " she asked. She could 
 not adapt herself to distractions. Her depression was 
 increased, too, by some fresh news concerning her 
 husband from an authentic quarter. Under the im- 
 mediate influence of this, she poured herself out to 
 Barclay with a poignant sadness (and yet with an" ef- 
 fort at self-repression) that wrung his heart. 
 
 " I am glad I am not with you, to heap the burden 
 of my sorrows on you, in my selfish way, even more 
 heavily," her words ran. " Oh, I was made for hap-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 171 
 
 piness, and cannot reconcile myself to life without it. 
 I must have been wrong from the first ; why have I 
 not tried to be good instead of to be happy ? " Thus 
 she accused herself, she whom he thought the best 
 of human beings in every thought and impulse. " I 
 suppose such as I are needed as an example to the 
 others of the evils of ill-assorted marriage, just as the 
 helots of Sparta were made drunk and shown to the 
 patrician youth, as a warning against intemperance." 
 
 She had heard that Varemberg had gone some- 
 times under assumed names, sometimes retaining his 
 own to Algiers, South Africa, Tonquin, and finally 
 the Pacific Islands, and carried with him everywhere 
 his reckless and abandoned courses. She seemed af- 
 flicted at length with something almost like nostalgia ; 
 it was evident that her sojourn was doing her no good, 
 and David Lane, having no excuse for detaining her 
 away indefinitely, brought her home. 
 
 Barclay was privileged to see her almost immedi- 
 ately on her return. Three days later he saw her again, 
 under peculiar circumstances. A break had occurred 
 in the machinery at the factory, and while this was 
 being repaired he was not in active demand, and set 
 out, one morning, to gratify a curiosity he had long 
 felt to penetrate to the interior of the city hall, op- 
 posite, climb to the dome, a favorite point of view 
 with strangers, and visit the Golden Justice at 
 qlose quarters. The mysterious green weather-doors 
 of the city hall were continually on the swing. They 
 admitted a motley group of officials, attorneys, hang- 
 ers-on about all the departments, teachers to see the
 
 172 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 superintendent of schools, citizens to pay or protest 
 against their taxes, the aldermen with their charac- 
 teristic air of importance, and, once a month, the 
 county supervisors, who left their rusty-looking wag- 
 ons, with rusty buffalo-robes thrown over the seats, 
 at the curb-stones, all day long ; and this movement 
 was in progress to-day as usual. 
 
 There had been a day and night of successive rain, 
 hail, thaw, renewed freezing, and then a light snow- 
 fall. It was one of those occasions when Nature 
 produces from her simplest materials effects of daz- 
 zling splendor that surpass Aladdin's cave, or any 
 fabled bowers of enchantment. The trees, encased 
 in a panoply of ice to their most infinitesimal twigs, 
 were woven together in exquisite traceries, as of 
 crystal, pearl, and silver. A sky of pure, deep blue 
 stretched overhead a canopy in rich harmony with 
 the rest. A brief truce had been struck with the 
 rigors of winter, and the atmosphere was of an al- 
 most balmy mildness. 
 
 Within the square, on the diagonal path crossing 
 it, Barclay suddenly met Mrs. Varemberg. She, too, 
 had been drawn forth by the fascination of the morn- 
 ing, and was taking a short walk for exercise. Bar- 
 clay involuntarily noted her elegantly simple raiment 
 of dark cloth, fitted close to her figure, and a small 
 bonnet of like material, a pompon at the side of which 
 supplied the only touch of color. She was cut out 
 sharply against the carpet of snow behind her. The 
 air and exercise, with perhaps also the excitement of 
 the unexpected meeting, gave her cheek an unwonted
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 173 
 
 color, her spirits an unusual animation. An ex- 
 traordinary change was already manifest, in the short 
 interval since her return. It impressed Barclay some- 
 what as when the light is suddenly kindled in one of 
 those oriental lanterns that, without illumination, are 
 dull and opaque. The fountain in the centre of the 
 square, standing by, frozen in the natural shapes of 
 its running water, assisted at their conference, like 
 some afrite out gf a fairy tale, Broken icicles, from 
 the trees, crackled under Mrs. Varemberg's small 
 heels. Barclay asked her gallantly, 
 
 " Are you the princess who let fall from her lips 
 showers of brilliants, wherever she moved ? " 
 
 " Can you doubt it ? I have been talking to my- 
 self as I came along," she rejoined, laughing. " But 
 these are only a poor affair : had I known the prince, 
 in person, would be abroad this morning, there 
 should have been some far more worthy of him." 
 
 " The prince was about to explore the city hall 
 and mount to the dome, a point of view much rec- 
 ommended to novices in the sights of Keewaydin, 
 I hear. Will you not go up, too, and chatter a little 
 there, for the benefit of your subjects, and to keep 
 the Golden Justice in countenance ? It must be 
 long since you have seen each other." 
 
 " I feel quite capable of it on such a glorious morn- 
 ing, but I think it would hardly do. Besides, I 
 was on my way to my father's office." 
 
 " Then perhaps the prince may go, too, as far as 
 your father's office." 
 
 " No," she objected hesitatingly. " I fear it would
 
 174 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 be rather conspicuous, our walking together in the 
 public streets. To speak frankly, it is not at all 
 an agreeable subject to talk about, some unpleas- 
 ant comments have been made. I heard them even 
 before I went away. 'They come principally, I be- 
 lieve, from a Mrs. Rycraft, the pleasure of whose 
 acquaintance I do not possess/' 
 
 Barclay raged inwardly at this evidence of lurking 
 malice. " But life is too short," he exclaimed, " to 
 let our conduct be regulated by nonentities and busy- 
 bodies. They have no rewards to bestow, worth the 
 having, even if we conform ; not one of them would 
 step out of his way a hair's breadth for one's real 
 pleasure or benefit. It is simply that if we do not 
 conform, their energy is actively devoted to trying 
 to make us uncomfortable." 
 
 ' Even a sentiment founded on so unreasonable 
 a basis, I suppose, ought to be more or less deferred 
 to," his hearer replied. " ' A man ought to know 
 how to defy opinion, a woman to submit to it.' It 
 is the old problem, mooted in Delphine, you know." 
 
 " Bah ! " ejaculated Barclay, at first ; but he soon 
 endeavored to check the expression of his discontent, 
 for in his heart he knew she was right. 
 
 Mrs. Varemberg though this too was perhaps 
 rather conspicuous let him stroll with her to the 
 posts at the corner where the path took its exit upon 
 the public streets. 
 
 " How lovely it all is ! " she broke off in a rhap- 
 sody. " It is as if Nature had powdered her hair, in 
 the Pompadour fashion. you see I must use femi-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 175 
 
 nine comparisons, and put on all her laces and dia- 
 monds." 
 
 " And you, too, it makes you look so much bet- 
 ter, so strong and blooming, one almost forgets " 
 
 " I will not be told I look ' better,' " she inter- 
 rupted saucily ; " that implies that at some time I 
 have not looked well, and no self-respecting princess, 
 who drops jewels from her lips, will admit that." 
 
 "At any rate, I shall always find it difficult here- 
 after to believe that there is anything really serious 
 in your illness." 
 
 "It is only the coming home," she said more seri- 
 ously. " It is only a little temporary rally. Even 
 my exile here somehow seems now preferable to any- 
 thing else ; the captive hugs her chains. Traveling 
 tired me ; I seemed to get all 'of its discomforts and 
 none of its pleasures. You must know I have had 
 flattering doctors tell me I might even get well, if I 
 were at peace with myself, at rest within. But that 
 is a very practical recipe, is it not ? They might as 
 well recommend me to get to the moon." 
 
 " And you wear your life out in this cruel way for 
 what? It is like the millions spent to maintain the 
 great standing armies in peace." But he discreetly 
 checked with this his far-off reference to a form of 
 relief he had once before proposed to her. 
 
 " I am reliably informed," said Mrs. Varemberg, 
 as they parted, " that you have been a misanthrope 
 and recluse during my absence. You do not go near 
 the people who have been polite to you. This will 
 never do ; I shall be held partly responsible for it. 
 We must put a stop to it."
 
 176 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " The reproach shall be no longer deserved ; a 
 proper consideration for the feelings of Mrs Rycraft 
 alone demands it," responded Barclay. With that 
 his charming companion went on, smiling at his sar- 
 casm, which she did not look upon as severe, while 
 he disappeared within the echoing, marble corridors 
 of the city hall. 
 
 Its two principal corridors crossed each other at 
 right angles, and their junction was a rotunda, open 
 to the dome above, from which it was somewhat too 
 obscurely lighted. Over the first door encountered 
 in the rotunda, to the right, was to be read the sign, 
 " Mayor's Office." Through open doors down the 
 long halls were seen the officials nonchalantly at 
 work, or idle. The comptroller came out, in his 
 shirt-sleeves, with a Budget of vouchers, and entered 
 the office of the county clerk, for the county, also, 
 had its share in the costly building. A knot of con- 
 tractors were gathered about the door of the Board 
 of Public Works, discussing a disagreeable circum- 
 stance, and Barclay heard, in passing, some part of 
 their discourse. It seemed that Keewaydin was a 
 city that had enacted a prohibition against the in- 
 crease of its municipal indebtedness beyond a certain 
 per cent, of its total property valuation, and it had 
 been suddenly discovered that this limit was already 
 reached. A paralyzing doubt had been set afloat by 
 the press, whether further expenditure of any kind 
 would be lawful till another year's taxes were in. 
 
 Ives Wilson now came out of the city attorney's 
 office, gave Barclay his hand, in his bustling way. and 
 cheerfully accosted the waiting group.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 177 
 
 " There '11 be no letting of contracts to-day, boys," 
 said he. " You may as well go home, and make 
 yourselves comfortable. I have it from the mayor 
 and the city attorney ; they '11 tell you themselves 
 presently. There '& no money in the treasury, and 
 there is n't going to be any, so you '11 have to get 
 your healths without it." He seemed to have a fa- 
 miliar acquaintance with all these men, Irish, Ger- 
 man, or American, as the case might be, and to be 
 as much at home in this stratum of society as any 
 other. 
 
 " But we heard that Lane, or Jim DeBow, or some 
 o' them rich fellers, would put up the money till the 
 next taxes was in," said the German contractor, Klau- 
 serman, eagerly. 
 
 " So they have. David Lane offered to do it, but 
 Jim DeBow got in ahead of him. But that is to be 
 used for necessary expenses ; without it we might 
 have had to turn off the gas and water, discharge the 
 police, and shut up the public schools. There 's 
 no telling whether he '11 ever get his money back, 
 either.'' 
 
 " It 's yeer paper, so it was, that sprung it on us, 
 and made all the hullabaloo ! " cried one Donlan, em- 
 phatically. " If yez had left it alone, nobody would 
 have known the limit was up." 
 
 " Of course it was," assented the journalist glee- 
 fully. " When you want the news, come to the In- 
 dex. The rest of them will give you your ancient 
 history and dead languages. The Index deals in facts 
 of the present day."
 
 ITS THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " Stop my paper, ye divil ! " said Donlan, a con- 
 tractor of leading importance. 
 
 '" We could n't think of it, John. We would n't 
 let you do yourself a damage you 'd never recover 
 from." 
 
 The circle, though indignant, remained perhaps but 
 the more imbued with the mysterious reverence with 
 which the common mind invests the newspaper pro- 
 fession. Ives Wilson and his Index which were, 
 besides, clearly in the right of it in the present 
 case were by uo means to be judged by common 
 rules. 
 
 Barclay had sent to the janitor for the key, but 
 now learned that it was already in use. It had been 
 taken by some other visitors, who had preceded him 
 to the dome. He set out, therefore, on his climb up 
 the broad, principal iron staircase. He reached first 
 the story of the handsome council chamber, the county 
 court, where one Moses Levy was on trial for the 
 firing of his store, to get the insurance money ; and 
 the circuit court of coordinate jurisdiction, where a 
 recess was being taken to procure the attendance of 
 a witness. He had to ascend next a narrower, more 
 winding staircase. He passed through a great attic, 
 where the ribs and braces of the construction plainly 
 showed, and, opening, finally, a small door, stepped 
 out into a sudden glare of light, and to a narrow bal- 
 cony and promenade extending around the dome. 
 
 When he had recovered his eyesight and taken his 
 bearings a little, he was disappointed to find himself 
 still so far remote from the Golden Justice. He had
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 179 
 
 not been able to estimate its height while climbing, 
 and this level, to which the general public were re- 
 stricted, was at a long remove even from the lowest 
 part of her pedestal. He looked down at the view, 
 and again upward to catch some clearer glimpse of 
 the details of the figure. Passing slowly round the 
 promenade in this way, he came upon a figure lean- 
 ing on the railing, with that musing air that a balcony 
 tends to impart, and recognized, with a start, David 
 Lane. 
 
 But the elder man was far more startled than he, 
 and wore almost a detected, guilty air. Barclay had 
 never seen him quite thus before. His presence here 
 was extraordinary ; a person of his sort would by no 
 means be expected to bring up hither the weight of 
 his age and infirmities, and at such a season of the 
 year, for his own pleasure. Yet strange as it was, 
 the wonderment of Barclay was not so extreme as to 
 give it its impressiveness ; it was the trouble in his 
 own conscience. 
 
 They two were alone on the dome, with but small 
 probability of being interrupted. David Lane aimed 
 to recover his usual composure, but, even when he 
 had done so, to reassume his late churlishness was 
 out of the question. 
 
 " I had some business with the mayor on this finan- 
 cial imbroglio, and when that was over the notion 
 took me, for once in a way, to come up here, for 
 for the benefit of the exercise. I am not beyond the 
 need of a bit of exercise yet," he explained. 
 
 It was thus he endeavored to disguise the prompt-
 
 180 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 ings of an uneasy mind that sometimes drew him to 
 the place, as the murderer is drawn to revisit the 
 scene of his crime. He had been, too, if Barclay 
 did but know it, to a very much higher level than this 
 at which they now stood ; he had climbed by a steep 
 and recondite way, with many a gasp and breathing 
 spell, to see that the lower fastenings of the Golden 
 Justice were still secure. 
 
 " The financial difficulty you speak of has inter- 
 ested me very much," said Barclay affably, puzzled 
 by, yet trying to ignore, the apparent confusion of 
 the other. . " I have come to realize, I think for the 
 first time, that there may be over-sanguine, improv- 
 ident, bankrupt cities as well as people." 
 
 " Yes, there are many of them in the West, and I 
 believe they are not unknown in the East. There is 
 a notable instance in this vicinity of a town so mort- 
 gaged to railroads (that have never been built, by 
 the way) that it has for years been subject to be sold 
 out under the hammer, only no legal body could be 
 found to serve the papers on. As soon as there is 
 any move of the sort the city council disbands, or 
 holds its meetings in hiding." 
 
 "And was it some flagrant piece of corruption 
 that caused Keewaydin to adopt its present provi- 
 sion ? " 
 
 " No, it was mainly a piece of prudent forethought, 
 derived from the experience of others. I do not 
 think Keewaydin has ever been a very corrupt place. 
 The many rival elements keep too strict a watch on 
 each other for that. We have our talk of 'rings,'
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 181 
 
 and ' bosses,' it is true, but I sometimes fancy our pa- 
 pers only borrow the terms with a certain pride, to 
 give us a metropolitan air." 
 
 They were now looking down on the city, and they 
 exchanged some few comments about it. Its masses 
 looked smaller than usual, reduced to their lowest 
 terms, as it were, by being cut out against the inter- 
 spaces of snow. The telegraph wires connected all 
 parts of it together, like the exposed nerves of some 
 living organism. From the white streets the faint 
 jingle of sleigh-bells came up to them ; on the after- 
 noon of such a day all the world would be on run- 
 ners. Barclay could contemplate his own lodging 
 in the square below ; at a distance could be discerned 
 the chimneys of his factory, and David Lane's house 
 at a distance. The mysterious lake spread its ex- 
 panse afar, with here and there some bank of mist or 
 low-lying cloud, out of which came an occasional 
 twinkle of the ice, as if some celestial lance had been 
 splintered there. 
 
 " And you," said David Lane, " what brings you 
 up so high, if one may ask ? " 
 
 " This view, which alone repays one, but still 
 more, to speak frankly, the Golden Justice. She 
 has allured me from a distance, and I had just been 
 saying to myself, when I met you, how disappointed 
 I was not to find myself nearer ; I had hoped to come 
 out at her very foot." 
 
 Oh, fatality! to see the Golden Justice? Alas, 
 that he should be met with here on such an errand ! 
 
 " This is as high as one can get," said David Lane
 
 182 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 coldly. ' A special permit is needed to go further, 
 and even that is of no avail. It is a painful climb, 
 and there is no egress but by a trap-door ; nor any 
 means of approaching the statue itself, after that, un- 
 less one should use a scaling ladder." 
 
 No one knew better than he whereof he spoke. 
 
 " And why has the Golden Justice allured you ? " 
 he went on to ask. 
 
 " I have an eye for the decorative, and she ap- 
 pealed to me as a pleasing object, shining so golden 
 yellow against her field of deep blue ; but when I 
 heard that the features were those of Mrs. Varem- 
 berg I found my interest at last fully accounted for." 
 
 Barclay was not averse to bringing on an explana- 
 tion of the anomalous condition of affairs, since the 
 time and circumstances were favorable for it. David 
 Lane seemed to incline in the same direction. 
 
 "Mrs. Varemberg still much occupies your thoughts, 
 then ? " he asked, gravely attentive. 
 
 " You know how much she once occupied them. 
 Well, all that is past and gone ; destiny was opposed 
 to it, and, with time, my views have changed. Since 
 she honors me with her friendship, I trust there is 
 nothing in what has passed to make me withhold 
 from her the tribute of my most respectful esteem, 
 admiration, and sympathy, and my desire to be of 
 service to her in any possible way." 
 
 Barclay dwelt with emphasis on the high-minded, 
 disinterested character of his regard, hoping to vin- 
 dicate himself from suspicions that he sometimes 
 thought might be at the bottom of the opposition of
 
 THE U OLD EN JUSTICE. 183 
 
 David Lane. Possibly the latter knew him better 
 than, at this time, he knew himself. 
 
 "Yes, the features are those of my daughter Flor- 
 ence," said the ex-governor. " We did not know, 
 aiid were not wholly pleased with the resemblance at 
 first ; it was the artist's eccentric way of paying us a 
 compliment." He answered soberly, but not resent- 
 fully. He was in fact in a sort of daze, and made 
 no offer to continue the conversation. An awkward 
 pause ensued. 
 
 Barclay looked up again at the huge bulk of the 
 figure, from the drapery of which broad reflections 
 glinted down into their eyes. 
 
 " It seems she was utilized somewhat like a corner- 
 stone," said he, in the most cursory way. " I have 
 been told that documents were sealed up in her." 
 
 Lane was as if thunderstruck. He fell to trem- 
 bling, with an agitation such as even he had rarely 
 known, and to hide it he altered his position, moving 
 a little further along the railing. 
 
 "It is a curious instance; I don't know that I 
 ever heard of one before," pursued Barclay, in the 
 same easy tone. " It seems reserved for Keewaydin 
 to do original things, in a number of ways. The 
 whole matter of deposits in corner-stones sometimes 
 impresses one curiously. We leave dispatch-boxes, 
 as it were, along the roadside, to be opened by those 
 who come after us, to give them news of us and our 
 times. It is a little odd, however, considering all the 
 corner-stones that are dedicated, how rarely you hear 
 of one being opened. Is it because it is too soon
 
 184 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 yet for our buildings to have begun to tumble down, 
 flimsy though so many of them are? Or is there 
 really no interest in the contents, these being so very 
 trite when reached ? " 
 
 "No doubt it is due to the comparative unimpor- 
 tance of the matters generally on deposit," replied 
 David Lane, in a voice scarcely audible, struggling 
 manfully to retain the mastery of himself. 
 
 " It would be more considerate, though, if one gen- 
 eration would arrange little surprises for the next. 
 What was it, for instance, you put into the Golden 
 Justice ? " 
 
 Oh, fatality I fatality ! Was it not enough that 
 this young man, of all others in the world, should 
 have found them out in Europe, and become a suitor 
 for his daughter's hand? Was it not enough that 
 avoidance of this should have precipitated such la- 
 mentable unhappiness? No, he must follow them 
 here, establish himself in the place, even interest 
 himself in the statue, mount to the dome, and be met 
 with to-day under its very aegis. Nor this alone ; for 
 now at last, with an unconsciousness that but made it 
 the more startling, he must put the finger of specula- 
 tion on the very box and'its contents, on the confes- 
 sion itself. To what but one fatal result could all 
 this concentration of events, all these successive ap- 
 proaches, this remorseless narrowing of the circle, be 
 tending ? The utmost efforts had availed to hinder 
 no single step of its progress. 
 
 " It was very long ago," replied David Lane. " At 
 this distance of time it is not easy to remember,
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 185 
 
 reports, statistics, the newspapers, I suppose ; they 
 could hardly have been anything of great moment." 
 
 "Alfsen, an old weather-prophet in my vicinity, 
 the other day predicted that the Golden Justice would 
 come down, and I should see the deposit scattered 
 about my feet. I shall naturally be on the lookout 
 for it with interest." 
 
 " He predicts that the Golden Justice will fall ? " 
 repeated the elder man in horror. He involuntarily 
 cast another glance up at the mammoth, figure tower- 
 ing above them. She was certainly secure enough 
 at present. 
 
 " Oh, a piece of garrulous nonsense. He keeps 
 up some old grudge for not having been allowed to 
 do all the work he wanted to on the city hall. Even 
 prophecy, it appears, cannot free itself from the bias 
 of personal motives." 
 
 David Lane made something like a half circuit of 
 the short promenade, then turned back upon his 
 track, with a very altered bearing : as well as one 
 so much troubled in mind and so reserved by recent 
 habit could do so, he assumed towards the young man 
 an open and friendly demeanor. 
 
 " I am glad to have met you here," he began. 
 "This situation, apart by ourselves, and free from 
 danger of interruption, gives me almost my first op- 
 portunity of welcoming you to the place. I seem to 
 have seen far too little of you since your arrival. I 
 trust it is not too late to express the real interest I 
 feel in you and your affairs, and to ask if there is 
 any way in which I can be of service."
 
 186 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 '* I confess I had sometimes thought your feelings 
 towards me were quite of an opposite sort," returned 
 Barclay, much surprised. 
 
 "Oh, no; why should you think so? Why should 
 it be so? You are a young man, and I an old one. 
 I have many cares and troubles, and perhaps, some- 
 times, an unfortunate manner." 
 
 Had Barclay desired to justify his opinion, he 
 would have cited the rejection of his suit, together 
 with a long course of marked coldness. But of what 
 avail? And what warrant had he, after all, for 
 questioning a father's disposition of his daughter's 
 hand, in the supposed interest of her happiness, even 
 by means of a certain subterfuge ? To re-open the 
 subject, furthermore, he feared might arouse distrust 
 anew, and defeat the greater freedom of action that 
 seemed promised him. 
 
 " Will you tell me about your enterprise and your 
 present prospects ? " asked David Lane. 
 
 Barclay, thus encouraged, proceeded to give a 
 brief, orderly account of the whole, from the first. 
 This statement added to Lane's sense of an inevita- 
 ble fatality pursuing him. The investment was one 
 such as might have commended itself to the judgment 
 of any shrewd cool-headed man of business. It was 
 no mere pretext for remaining, and the circumstances 
 were such that, given Barclay's peculiar requirements, 
 it would have been almost reprehensible not to have 
 entered into it 
 
 They descended the stairs together. Lane offered 
 Barclay his hand, at parting, with a cordiality in
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 187 
 
 which, however, was mingled an indescribable shrink- 
 ing. He wished him to come and dine, but it hap- 
 pened that day that Barclay could not. Thereafter, 
 for a considerable time, it was not alone Mrs. Va- 
 remberg's invitations and friendly offices he accepted, 
 but her father's as well. The two men were seen 
 amicably together on the street and on 'Change, and 
 the wise business head of David Lane offered coun- 
 sels that even brought profit to the Stamped-Ware 
 Works. 
 
 And what did it all mean ? Why, simply this : 
 when the hapless Montezuma knew that the invading 
 Spaniards, the Children of the Sun, destined to be 
 the destroyers of himself and his people, had landed 
 on his coasts, he sent costly presents, to endeavor to 
 turn them aside from their march to his capital. So 
 David Lane haplessly aimed to propitiate the mes- 
 senger by means of whom Destiny seemed stretching 
 forth a long arm for his destruction. It was not that 
 he was more reconciled to his fate than before, or 
 saw clearly, as yet, the means of its accomplish- 
 ment ; but in the mood in which he found himself for 
 the time being, further struggle, further resistance, 
 seemed useless.
 
 IX. 
 
 A WINSOME APPARITION. 
 
 THE retirement in which Mrs. Varemberg lived 
 had no doubt contributed to keep the full measure of 
 her intimacy with Barclay from the public observa- 
 tion. It took place at her father's house, under the 
 eye of her father and aunt, and could not be charged 
 with impropriety. The intrusive tongue of gossip 
 began at last to wag, however, and Barclay, in a 
 punctilious devotion to the interests of his friend, 
 thought best to take cognizance of it. He would 
 have been sorry, furthermore, to have really deserved 
 the reproach of ingratitude for the courtesies that 
 had been shown him in the place ; and so, on many 
 accounts and in spite of the improved opportunity 
 open to him by the allayed opposition of David Lane, 
 he for a while saw considerably less of Mrs. Varem- 
 berg and more of general society. 
 
 The snow, at Keewaydin, lay white and firm on the 
 ground for many months, and, instead of an enemy, 
 was made to be an ally and friend in all the daily af- 
 fairs of life. There was coasting down the long, steep 
 streets, followed by dancing and suppers, in which 
 some elderly persons of prominence, as well as the 
 young, took part. Barclay did not hold himself above 
 this diversion. He joined more than once the merry
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 189 
 
 procession of sleigh-riders on Grand Avenue. He. 
 went by invitation, to a session of the young women's 
 Saturday Morning Club, and finally he even selected 
 a partner to accompany him to that most brilliant so- 
 cial event of the winter, the annual Charity Ball. 
 
 The choice of this partner was determined by an 
 incident at the Saturday Morning Club. He was one 
 of a few masculine visitors admitted to these favored 
 precincts on some rare occasons, as that of a lecture 
 or the like. Justine DeBow was there, among the 
 others. She was seized with a sudden dizziness. 
 Barclay happened to be beside her, and aided her. 
 It was held by some that this fainting was but as- 
 sumed, on the part of Miss DeBow, to draw attention 
 to herself and monopolize the services of the admired 
 guest of the occasion, and several others wished they 
 had bethought them of the same opportune device. 
 The elfish Miss Shadwell, with a face like a withered 
 apple, found opportunity to approach him about Jus- 
 tine. She would have liked to do so about Mrs. 
 Varemberg, also, but that she felt compelled to re- 
 serve to another time. 
 
 " We all like and admire Justine so much," she 
 said. " She has only one drawback." 
 
 " And what is that ? " 
 
 " You never see her mother." 
 
 " I have not observed that American mothers are 
 ever unnecessarily visible," he returned, wondering to 
 what this tended. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know they are a retiring class, who 
 think it is not their bright eyes visitors come to see ;
 
 190 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 but this is something different. DeBow, when quite 
 young, married a very common, ungrammatical sort 
 of a person, a servant in a hotel, in fact. They 
 say he was captivated by her good looks, but she has 
 bravely got over them. They keep her discreetly in 
 the background, under pretense that " 
 
 " I do not find it an interesting subject ! " exclaimed 
 Barclay impatiently. 
 
 " Oh, people do not snap me up," said Miss Shad- 
 well ; " It 's of no use. I say things, you know : 
 others think them." 
 
 But her hearer had already turned away, as ab- 
 ruptly as might be without marked rudeness. 
 
 This, then, was one cause of the reserve and dig- 
 nified little airs assumed by Justine DeBow. Her 
 hauteur was but a manifestation of sensitiveness, a 
 species of defensive armor. He construed it quite 
 as favorably as it probably deserved, and it added a 
 touch of interest to her case. Largely in protest 
 against her spiteful little assailant, yielding to a quix- 
 otic impulse of the moment, he begged her to be his 
 companion at the coming Charity Ball. 
 
 When the evening of the ball arrived, he called 
 for her towards nine o'clock, in a carriage of his 
 own providing, after the custom of the place. They 
 had no chaperon, and they might return at whatever 
 hour they would in the same simple fashion. He 
 waited for her in the parlor, while she above put 
 some finishing touches to a much more elaborate 
 toilette than usual. Good Mrs. DeBow took this 
 occasion to come in and greet him. She entered in
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 191 
 
 a diffident way, making a pretext of seeing that an- 
 other gas-burner was lighted ; then sat down on the 
 edge of a chair and talked to him. She had heard 
 his inquiries after her at various times, and felt within 
 herself that he was one who appreciated her. She 
 had said to her daughter more than once that he was 
 a real gentleman, and not a mere imitation, like so 
 many who came there. She was by no- means con- 
 vinced in her own mind that her discourse was wor- 
 thy of the severe repression with which it was cus- 
 tomarily visited in the house. It was at present full 
 of solecisms, but there was also an attempt in her 
 manner at an elegant formality, of which Justine's 
 was a curious echo. 
 
 This conversation was in full progress when Jus- 
 tine came down. Her brow grew dark at the sight ; 
 she knew what naturally must have happened. Tears 
 of mortification sprang to her eyes. At the front 
 door she wavered, seeking if there, were not some 
 pretext on which she could refuse to set forth, but it 
 was too late to retreat. 
 
 Barclay saw this, in spite of himself, and did his 
 utmost to reassure her. He employed a peculiar 
 fineness of manner, neither too easy nor formal. He 
 appeared neither to overlook the circumstance by 
 which she was troubled, nor to be impressed by it. 
 You would have said he had never talked to mothers 
 who comported themselves any differently. 
 
 " Ah," thought the girl with gratitude, " he does 
 not mind it." 
 
 This unusual beginning of the evening no doubt
 
 192 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 had its influence on the whole course of it ; there 
 seemed a certain need of continuing the same air of 
 reassurance and devotion. Two persons looked on 
 at this with unquiet minds. The one was Lieutenant 
 Gregg, who had long been enamored of Justine. A 
 fierce displeasure afflicted the excellent officer at the 
 appearance of so good an understanding between the 
 couple. The other was Mrs. Varemberg, who a 
 thing highly unusual for her had come to the ball, 
 to remain a short time as a spectator. When Bar- 
 clay went to pay his respects to her, in the box where 
 she sat with her father, she received him but coldly. 
 She resented his slowness in coming, and also what 
 she deemed his whole neglect of her of late, based 
 though this was, as we have seen, upon his prudent 
 regard for her own fair fame. Is it, then, credible 
 that jealousy, some trace of which perhaps lurks, 
 tiger-like, in even the softest of feminine breasts, had 
 sprung up in that of Mrs. Varemberg, she who had 
 no worldly future, no warrant to her own freedom, 
 nor right to be the slightest check upon that of any 
 other ? Alas, what new calamity did this dangerous 
 feeling portend? She resolved, as soon as she was 
 sensible of it, that she would tear it from her heart ; 
 it should have no real foothold there. She pleaded 
 an indisposition, and very soon withdrew. 
 
 Thenceforth, for some time, she adopted a new role 
 of conduct, a stricter seclusion than before, and de- 
 nied herself even to Barclay as well as the others. 
 Her father, witnessing with astonishment this repulse 
 of Barclay, felt for the first time something like posi-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 193 
 
 tive cheerfulness. The bugbear that had so dismayed 
 him seemed, after all, to have no real existence ; the 
 alarming friendship had fallen to pieces of its own 
 accord, by its own weight. 
 
 Barclay marveled, during this time, that Mrs. Var- 
 emberg should be moved to carry his own purpose to 
 so much greater an extreme ; but he was used to con- 
 struing her favorably, and, if his glance, in their rare 
 meetings, sought hers in involuntary questioning, he 
 made no open question of her conduct. In his eyes 
 whatever she did was right. He was first apprised 
 of the embittered state of mind of Lieutenant Gregg 
 through some quite offensive conduct towards him, on 
 the lieutenant's part, at that ambitious social organ- 
 ization, an imitation of prototypes in larger cities, 
 the Keewaydin Club. 
 
 It was thus, among other things, that Barclay came 
 to know that he could not apply in person to Gregg 
 for. aid in the case of William Alfsen. 
 
 The unpleasantness was finally settled through the 
 good offices of Ives Wilson. 
 
 Such misconception of Barclay's small courtesies 
 to Justine DeBow was absurd. Nevertheless, he de- 
 termined to give no further occasion for it. As he 
 seemed to have made so bad a business of his at- 
 tempt to show local society a proper recognition of its 
 favors, he turned away from it all with a new in- 
 difference, and gaVe to his factory a yet more com- 
 plete attention. 
 
 The lieutenant was now left the clearest possible 
 field in the quarter to which his aspirations extended.
 
 1)4 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 Miss Justine DeBow, however, put her own construc- 
 tion upon what she deemed Barclay's avoidance of 
 her. It was not long before she approached her 
 mother, and in a painful scene one of not unusual 
 occurrence in that household said to her: 
 
 " It was because you went into the parlor, and he 
 heard you talk, that he stays away. He is not used 
 to it ; he will never come here any more." 
 
 " I know I ought not to have done it. I will not 
 disgrace you again," returned the mother, accepting 
 the charge with a full measure of abject humility. 
 
 "I I did not mean that," said the daughter, a 
 little staggered herself at this way of putting it. 
 " But oh, why would you not learn, when I tried so 
 hard with you ? " and she broke into hysterical sobs, 
 " Not to use long words, and not to say ' I done it ' 
 and ' I seen it ' and ' them are,' and and just a 
 few others," thus she summed up the educational 
 system with which she had sought to alleviate her 
 chagrin. 
 
 " Don't cry so, deary. I will try, I will try," 
 protested her listener, who, fair enough though she 
 was in the other relations of life, an especially tender 
 mother, and a person, too, of a certain good judg- 
 ment, was so obtuse in her faculties through early 
 neglect of them as never to have been able to master 
 even the simple educational system outlined above. 
 Her husband had undertaken it with a will shortly 
 after his imprudent marriage, and so had her children 
 in turn as they arrived at years to be mortified by it, 
 but all alike had proved in vain.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 195 
 
 New Year's Day one of the old-fashioned sort 
 soon arrived. The custom of making calls, since 
 fallen into abeyance, was kept up at Keewaydin with 
 great spirit. To call was almost a religious obser- 
 vance. The streets were gayly alive all day with 
 sleigh-loads of men, in couples and quartettes, going 
 to and from the houses of friends, each priding him- 
 self on filling the largest list. Nor was it the young 
 alone who ventured forth ; there were elderly bach- 
 elors in the concourse ; husbands, growing lax about- 
 social observances, were laughingly driven out by 
 their helpmeets from their comfortable firesides ; and 
 even urchins, arrayed in their best, began a society 
 career by making their dancing-school bows in the 
 parlors of friends of the family. 
 
 Barclay counted on finding Mrs. Varemberg at 
 home on that day, if on no other ; and so it proved. 
 Her father's house was open, as became his position, 
 but without parade, and it was she who had mainly to 
 do the honors of hospitality. When Barclay arrived, 
 she sat, in reverie, before a wood fire, in a temporary 
 lull of the calling. It was between daylight and 
 dark, and the lamps were not yet lighted ; the short 
 winter afternoon had yet been further shortened by a 
 lowering sky, and snow-flakes were beginning to whirl 
 coldly down. The thick, soft carpet gave so little 
 response to the step of the visitor that he was beside 
 her before she knew it. 
 
 " What do you see in the fire ? " he asked, after 
 he had touched, in an easy way, on some of the 
 events of the day. " That is a question always in
 
 196 TEE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 order when one is discovered looking so fixedly at 
 it." 
 
 " I see you there, among other things." 
 
 " I trust I have not been tried in your crucible and 
 found wanting ? " 
 
 " That remains to be ascertained. I was thinking 
 that I was rather tired of seclusion, and had perhaps 
 been overdoing it, and that I might send for you, if 
 you did not happen in. Would you have come, if I 
 had ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; of course nothing would have induced 
 me to," he replied, seating himself beside her. " But 
 now that it is proper to speak of it, I don't quite un- 
 derstand what it was all about. "We have scarcely 
 met long enough to exchange two words since the 
 Charity Ball." 
 
 " We can stand so little pleasure, in this life, that 
 we have to make up for it by long periods of depres- 
 sion afterwards." 
 
 " I should hardly have thought the ecstasy of a 
 Keewaydin Charity Ball so great as that." 
 
 "Well, then, it was one of my moods, that is 
 all : you must know I have them sometimes ? " 
 
 And this was all the explanation given till a 
 long time after. She had fought the battle out with 
 herself, and determined to throw open her doors 
 again, and reap from this friendship, which filled so 
 important a place in her life, whatever solace it was 
 capable of affording, while it was still vouchsafed to 
 her. She talked now of friendship ; made a theory, 
 as people are given to doing, to strengthen them-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 197 
 
 selves in insecure positions, that friendship was the 
 greatest good, and quite sufficient for human happi- 
 ness without any admixture of the warmer sentiment. 
 
 " The quiet stars alone," she said, using this as a 
 comparison, " supply a great part of the heat of our 
 globe." 
 
 " They raise its temperature from nothing at all 
 to one hundred degrees below zero, and the sun does 
 the rest ; but few of us would care to remain perma- 
 nently even at one hundred below zero," Barclay re- 
 turned, promptly. " I have read the same scientific 
 article, you see." 
 
 Now, too, that Mrs. Varemberg had reached this 
 new position, it was shown almost immediately how 
 baseless and fantastic the one she abandoned had 
 been. 
 
 Barclay soon came, in the course of talk, to the 
 case of William Alfsen. He told her of his desire to 
 get him a place on the revenue cutter. 
 
 "Why do you not ask Lieutenant Gregg? " she 
 inquired. 
 
 " My hated rival ? No, indeed ; that would never 
 do." 
 
 " You and Lieutenant Gregg rivals ? And on 
 what subject ? " 
 
 " It seems to have been supposed to be for the fa- 
 vor of the fascinating Justine DeBow." 
 
 " How interesting ! " exclaimed Mrs. Varemberg, 
 but her countenance fell, in spite of herself. It 
 brightened again remarkably, however, when she 
 heard from him a full account of this little episode.
 
 198 TUK GOLltEX JUSTICE. 
 
 " To show that I have not the least design in the 
 world against his peace of mind," went on Barclay, 
 " I have let his sweetheart, with society in general, 
 perhaps somewhat brusquely alone. Still, there may 
 be a lurking acrimony on his part, and I am not the 
 one to beg him to do anybody favors." 
 
 "And there was really nothing in it? What with 
 your eye for good looks and your interest in situ- 
 ations out of the common, how could one tell that 
 your intentions were not serious?" 
 
 " Was it likely ? " he responded : " I am devoted 
 to to eternal celibacy, like the Rev. Edward 
 Brockston." 
 
 " Then, let me take charge of the application in 
 Alfsea's favor," she suggested with alacrity. " I will 
 speak to Lieutenant Gregg about it at the first oppor- 
 tunity. Perhaps he will do what you want, on my 
 recommendation." 
 
 Upon this a new-comer entered, no less a per- 
 son than Schwartzmann, the designer of the Golden 
 Justice, who had come home for a visit, after a long 
 absence in Europe. There was an exhibition of his 
 works at present, at Fogle& Stein's, the leading mu- 
 sic and stationery store of the place. Schwartzmann 
 showed something of his profession in his looks. He 
 had a high, narrow forehead, bushy brows, and 
 meagre, bristling beard ; his clothes were openly of 
 the ready-made sort, and he wore them carelessly. 
 There was a trace in his manners of the rudeness of 
 the lower stratum from which he had sprung, yet this 
 was far more than balanced by the refinement of his
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 199 
 
 ideas, helped by familiar association with refined peo- 
 ple. He was a bright, intelligent man, with the as- 
 sured briskness and confidence of a successful one. 
 He was very buoyant and gay in his talk about mat- 
 ters of art, his own life abroad. Barclay, on going 
 away, left him there. 
 
 Lieutenant Gregg came in, later in the day, and 
 Mrs. Varemberg approached him on the subject of 
 which she had assumed charge. He promised it, in 
 fact, his most favorable consideration. 
 
 A brief period, of a new sort, now began for our 
 couple. David Lane no longer opposed ; they had 
 laid at rest their scruples of conscience, persuading 
 themselves by one sophistical argument or another of 
 the rectitude of their intentions ; there seemed never 
 to have been a better understanding between them, 
 never a calmer, more satisfying, more thorough 
 friendship, and friendship alone. 
 
 They planned together new devices for the factory. 
 Mrs. Varemberg manifested a keen desire to be made 
 of use, a touching eagerness to put herself under di- 
 rection, that she might be utilized for any worthy end. 
 On one occasion she brought down a collection of 
 valuable trinkets she had. Barclay facetiously dubbed 
 these the Crown Jewels, as if she were some beauti- 
 ful and hapless princess in exile ; and he sat on an 
 ottoman at her feet, while she handed out to him in 
 turn these trophies of her days of earlier youth, and 
 of hope and happiness at a brilliant foreign court. 
 Again, they joined the sleigh-riders on Grand Ave- 
 nue. Barclay wore a seal-skin cap, pulled low down
 
 200 TIIE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 aver his ears ; his companion, well wrapped in furs, 
 with a bird's wing standing straight up in her hat, 
 sometimes held her muff before her face, roseate from 
 the tingle of the keen air. They went slowly up the 
 right hand of the broad avenue, and then came flying 
 down the left at headlong speed, in company with 
 others, as many as four abreast, while clods of snow 
 spurned gayly backward from the heels of their 
 horses. 
 
 Mrs. Varemberg was a person of changeable moods, 
 and by no means to be depended upon for unvarying 
 uniformity. In her present contentment at the un- 
 wonted appreciation and companionship she enjoyed, 
 she sometimes surprised Barclay by an exhibition of 
 a child-like amenability to his influence, an almost 
 Griselda-like meekness. It was a pathetic testimony 
 to her hard usage to the chilling rebuffs with which 
 her naturally affectionate nature had been met. It 
 afforded, too, a glimpse into that mysterious trait of 
 feminine character which finds it a sort of luxury to 
 be dominated over, and even to be thwarted, by one 
 it loves. She would express, after some simple oc- 
 casion, perhaps his merely having dined with them 
 en famille, in the most uneventful way, a pleasure 
 out of all proportion to the event. 
 
 " But why ? but how ? " once queried Barclay, puz- 
 zled. " Nothing remarkable happened." 
 
 " It is not necessary for remarkable things to hap- 
 pen. I have not been maltreated, I have not been 
 beaten ; that is all." 
 
 After some random critical remarks of his, in a
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 201 
 
 gay discussion on furnishing, he was astonished, on 
 his next visit, to find the position of some important 
 articles, a leading picture, and even the arrangement 
 of an entire room quite altered. 
 
 " I shall be afraid to open my mouth next," he 
 protested, in whimsical expostulation. " What right 
 have I to interfere with your surroundings, or put you 
 to any trouble whatever ? " 
 
 " I like to please you " she said ; and there was a 
 thorough-going completeness in this abject submis- 
 sion and a cooing gentleness in the tones of her voice 
 that made his heart beat high with a mysterious joy 
 and trouble. What might not these peculiar marks 
 of favor be construed to mean ? 
 
 " Perhaps you would enjoy being beaten, after 
 all ? " he said. 
 
 " Perhaps I would," she replied sweetly. 
 
 But this mood was as brief as it was phenomenal ; 
 however she may have still adhered to it in spirit, it 
 was far too tame to comport with such self-assertion 
 and charming bold caprice as were naturally hers. 
 
 In their talk Mrs. Varemberg was much the more 
 animated, and contributed the greater share of it. 
 
 " It is a dangerous trait in you," she would say to 
 him, " that you are so good a listener." 
 
 But when her spirits were down, she had her si- 
 lent moods, also. She was known to fade away so 
 completely into the region of her own griefs and 
 fancies that it was impossible to recall her from it, 
 and her friend could only withdraw, and leave her to 
 the restorative influence of time. Sometimes, under
 
 202 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 less depression than this, she would try to have him 
 talk uninterruptedly which was a difficult thing 
 for him to do for her distraction. One day she 
 insisted, in such fashion, with a ray of humor in it, 
 that he should tell her some long story from his 
 travels, to relieve her ennui. 
 
 " But you have heard all about my travels already ; 
 I can think of nothing further," he demurred. " And 
 you yourself are quite capable of talking to-day." 
 
 " Once when I was in the Sandwich Islands," she 
 threw out, as if quoting in advance the opening sen- 
 tence of his narrative. 
 
 "But I tell you" 
 
 " Once when I was in the Sandwich Islands," she 
 persisted inexorably. 
 
 " Have you any particular reason for selecting the 
 Sandwich Islands ? " he asked, struck by a startling 
 recollection. 
 
 " I select them quite at random, but that is no 
 reason why" she answered with an imitation of 
 capricious tyranny. 
 
 " Then, by heaven ! " cried Barclay excitedly, 
 " once when I was in the Sandwich Islands I saw 
 your husband there. It was Varemberg, as sure as 
 I 'm alive. It must have been. I know it was." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " demanded his auditor, 
 aghast. She had no trace of ennui, either real or 
 pretended, now. 
 
 " It all comes back to me. I did not know at the 
 time he was in that part of the world, or even that 
 there was any rupture between you. I do not know
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 203 
 
 why I did not think of this the other day, when you 
 told me of his having been heard of in the South 
 Seas." 
 
 " Tell me all that you saw and know." 
 
 " I went into a court, to see something of the ad- 
 ministration of justice in those latitudes. I observed 
 it was in the prisoner's dock a man bearing a 
 singular resemblance to Varemberg." 
 
 " Oh ! could it have been ? Did you speak to 
 him ? Did you identify him ? " 
 
 " Not by name, certainly. I asked the by-standers 
 about him and his case. They returned a different 
 name, one I had never heard of. I thought it but 
 one of those coincidences that are so common. I 
 sometimes think we are all cut out only upon a 
 dozen patterns, or so, and everywhere you go you 
 find people who closely resemble those you have left 
 behind. But now all hangs together. The offense 
 for which he was on trial exactly corresponds with 
 what you have told me of his violent character. And 
 then, certain peculiarities of his manner, his sharp 
 glance, yes, I could not have been mistaken; it 
 was he." 
 
 " What had he done ? " asked the unfortunate 
 wife, trembling. 
 
 " He was accused of killing one of the coolies who 
 had worked for him on a sugar plantation." 
 
 " And was he convicted ? " 
 
 " No, I afterwards heard he was not. One poor 
 cooly was not of much consequence, after all ; and the 
 defense was mutiny and self-preservation, though
 
 L'<>4 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 it was alleged, on the other hand, that the disturl>- 
 ance or uprising was due to intolerable cruelty on the 
 part of the master." 
 
 " How long ago was all this ? " 
 
 "Just before I left for San Francisco; a bare six 
 weeks, say, before my arrival here." 
 
 Mrs. Varemberg gave a convulsive shudder. 
 
 " Ah," she said, " if he was so near, it was but a 
 step for him to San Francisco, and what is to pre- 
 vent his coming here ? " 
 
 " He would never dare ! " and Barclay started to 
 his feet, his eye blazing indignation. " No, it is im- 
 possible." 
 
 He had not thought of it in that light. He saw 
 that his story had alarmed her. Distressed at her 
 agitation, he endeavored to repair the effects of what 
 he deemed his imprudence. His surprise at the 
 strange coincidence had inadvertently betrayed him 
 into it. He pretended that he might, after all, have 
 been mistaken. But it was too late. The story had 
 made a deep impression on its hearer. It accented 
 also the bondage, sometimes half forgotten, that held 
 her, and the irreparable distance fixed between her 
 and others. It was a warning of personal danger to 
 Barclay, too, like the discovery by Crusoe of the first 
 foot-print on the sands, and, as with Crusoe's foot- 
 print, it was long before uneasiness from this source 
 was allayed. 
 
 Even with the utmost allowance for mental blind- 
 ness and for good intentions, it is evident that such 
 a situation as that between the pair could not last.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 205 
 
 The days went by, and their awakening from their 
 self-imposed delusion rapidly approached. 
 
 Barclay made many a furtive study of the looks of 
 his companion, and, though she could certainly not 
 have been much better, was surprised to find himself 
 thinking of her but little as an invalid. There were 
 certain aspects of her appearance now it was a 
 poise of the head, now the curves of her eyebrows 
 and lids which he would say to himself, when 
 alone, were too perfect to be real ; but on going back 
 to see them again he would find, to his astonishment, 
 that the fact far surpassed his recollection. He had 
 some singular moments, in looking at her, when she 
 seemed to swim before him in a sort of luminous 
 haze. It had a magnetic quality ; it emanated from 
 her eyes, and was full of the sweetness of her glance 
 and her smile, and he could not see her quite clearly. 
 He would draw forth some small treasures, of her 
 personal belonging, that he possessed, and sit in 
 reverie or rapture before them, quite in the usual 
 lover-like way. These were a glove, a bit of lace 
 from her gown, a card on which she had scribbled 
 some words, a faded rose, the common trumpery 
 paraphernalia. 
 
 What! to reverence such treasures, and yet re- 
 main only a friend? 
 
 " Yes," he made answer, in specious sophistry ; 
 " all such homage need not be given over to the 
 lover alone. The warm friend, too, may start at the 
 opening door, tremble at seeing a dear presence afar, 
 watch for a window light, turn pale and red at the
 
 206 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 receipt of a letter, at the little touch of a hand, or 
 even at the tones of a voice." 
 
 The thoughts of Mrs. Varemberg, on the other 
 hand, were forever hovering about Barclay. His 
 interests were almost the only ones that occupied 
 her ; he filled her long musings by day, her dreams 
 at night. It was his very merits that constituted his 
 baneful influence ; it was not because he was bad, 
 but because he was good, that he was secretly draw- 
 ing her away from allegiance to her most firmly set- 
 tled convictions. She was forever making idle con- 
 trasts. 
 
 " Why could it not have been ? " she said, bemoan- 
 ing her fate. " With him, I should have had a ca- 
 reer ; I should have been a useful being in the world, 
 and not the poor, forlorn creature I am." 
 
 Through all this she kept an inexorable watch 
 upon her tongue ; she meant to let fall no word that 
 might betray her state of feeling. One afternoon in 
 the late winter, when there was a new premonition 
 of snow in the soft, calm air, some errand took her 
 to the South Side of the town. She passed Barclay's 
 factory at a distance, on the way, and she said to 
 herself that she felt a certain joy to be even so near 
 to him as that, though she did not see him. A deft 
 artistic hand might have drawn the Polish settle- 
 ment, as it appeared to her in its winter dress, in a 
 few lines and washes of gray and sepia, on a bit of 
 white paper. At the church, with its twin towers 
 and domes of shining tin, a festival was evidently 
 being made ready for the ensuing Sunday: a large
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 207 
 
 quantity of carpets, painted images, and tall vases 
 with paper flowers were being conveyed in ; the en- 
 trance doors were wide open, and the sexton and a 
 number of assistants were busy about the altar. Mrs. 
 Varemberg recollected that this church had been 
 recommended by Barclay as one of the minor curios- 
 ities discovered in his search for the unusual ; and 
 the notion took her, in passing, to enter it. Silken 
 banners of benevolent societies were planted by the 
 chancel rail, and on the walls were a few eikons, or 
 sacred pictures, the face and hands sunk into a gilded 
 ground, while the rest was painted on the surface, 
 nothing of any real importance, but only interesting 
 because they had interested him. Fatigued, this un- 
 usual visitor sat down in one of the front pews ; pres- 
 ently she half knelt, and remained a considerable 
 time with her face buried in her hands. She was 
 aroused by finding Paul Barclay standing beside her. 
 
 " I was driving by," he said, " and could not very 
 well avoid recognizing your sleigh, with your man 
 waiting on the box, so I came in on the chance of . 
 finding you. Have you gone over to the Polish form 
 of worship ? " 
 
 " Do not taunt me with my unreasonableness ; if 
 you once begin, you will never stop. I do not know 
 but I have been trying to pray." 
 
 " St. Jude's would have been nearer for the pur- 
 pose, and it is rather more affected by your friends." 
 
 " Any temple is good enough for a petition that 
 will not and probably ought not to be granted." 
 
 " Will you tell me what you have prayed about ? "
 
 'JOS THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " Oh, general wretchedness," she answered, at first 
 evasively; then, looking at him directly, and as if 
 under an emotion she could not control, " For simple, 
 sweet earthly happiness. Eternity is too, too long to 
 wait for. But it cannot be granted, and it is wicked 
 even to ask for it." 
 
 " Poor child ! " he murmured under his breath. An 
 absorbing tenderness welled up in his heart ; then, in 
 a louder tone, full of reassurance, " Patience ; all must 
 yet come right." 
 
 " No ; all will come right for others, but not for 
 me," she responded, desperately. 
 
 Barclay was on the eve of some great outburst 
 In another moment he would have given expression 
 to the feelings with which his whole being had long 
 been pervaded. But his companion herself first re- 
 covered her lost control. She stepped lightly along 
 the aisle, and threw her wraps around her, prepara- 
 tory to going forth into the colder air. She hastily 
 read aloud a placard, in amusing English, affixed to 
 the wall of the vestibule. 
 
 " No person who has not a pew (seat)," it said, "is 
 not allowed to enter the same, for we have not got 
 that church for nothing. By so doing they will oblige 
 every holder of a pew, as it would deprive them of 
 their respective place." 
 
 When Barclay would have recommenced at the 
 serious point where they had left off, a second diver- 
 sion was created by William Alfsen, who caught sight 
 of them in the portal, and came running up the steps 
 to thank them gratefully for their efficacious service
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 209 
 
 in securing him the coveted place on the revenue cut- 
 ter. He had been inducted into his new duties, it 
 appeared, a week before, but this was the first op- 
 portunity he had had to get off long enough to see 
 anybody. He had been intending, he said, to call on 
 them both. 
 
 " And now, I suppose," said Barclay, as the sailor 
 was withdrawing, "you can marry Stanislava?" 
 
 " I don't know about that," replied Alfsen, scratch- 
 ing his head dubiously. " The old man, he don't let 
 up on us yet ; and Stanislava, she 's one o' them kind 
 what don't make no trouble in her family. I guess 
 we got to wait a while yet." 
 
 This over, Mrs. Varemberg drove away home- 
 ward. The lighter note had opportunely been struck, 
 and a most dangerous moment averted. 
 
 David Lane could hardly fail to note, of late, that 
 his daughter was more disturbed in mind than usual, 
 even for her. She was growing paler and thinner. 
 He thought good to let fall a suggestion to the Rev. 
 Edward Brockston that the latter should take occasion 
 to talk with her, and help bring her to a more recon- 
 ciled feeling with existence. This man of wise coun- 
 sel did so to the best extent he could. He showed 
 her yet further, in the usual way, that this life is to 
 be regarded as of no real importance in itself, but is 
 only a preparation for another. Perhaps he had 
 some shrewd perception of how the land lay, for he 
 was not an obtuse person, and so he managed to touch 
 delicately, too, upon the church doctrine of divorce.
 
 210 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 He aimed to strengthen her belief in the binding force 
 and obligation of the marriage contract by as cogent 
 words as possible. " The house that God has not 
 built," he said, concluding this topic, " is not built 
 at all." 
 
 A public entertainment was to be given, known as 
 a Peasants' Carnival. He urged her to take part in 
 this, both to aid the charitable object for which it was 
 intended, and also as a distraction from the perhaps 
 rather morbid state of mind into which she was al- 
 lowing herself to drift. Contrary to what might 
 have been expected of her and to her usual practice, 
 she consented to do so. She was not strong enough 
 to enlist herself in the active work of the carnival 
 proper, but it was finally arranged that she should 
 accept.^ character in some tableaux vivantes projected 
 in connection with it, a role in which her noble and 
 distinguished bearing could be well turned to account. 
 
 The sculptor Schwartzmann first aided some of the 
 members individually, then allowed himself to be im- 
 pressed into the service as general manager of the 
 whole. Barclay found him advising Mrs. Varem- 
 berg about her costume. He saw her working at a 
 profusion of soft tissues and stuffs of cloth of gold. 
 One evening, on which he endeavored to draw from 
 her what her character was to be, he chanced to be 
 so posted that he could see her not only directly in 
 front, but also reflected sidewise in one of the pier- 
 glasses of the drawing-room. The mirror duplicated 
 all the shining stuffs, just as it duplicated her grace- 
 fully bent, slender figure. She was clad in a soft
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 211 
 
 black silk, with a camel' s-hair scarf about her shoul- 
 ders. As he gazed, his fancy was comparing her to 
 some mediaeval chatelaine, some Lady of Shalott, 
 weaving a fabric of intertwisted threads of fate. The 
 identity of the characters was not to be disclosed, 
 however, till the performance itself, and Barclay, in 
 spite of his humorous guesses, was left in the dark, 
 like the others. 
 
 On the opening of the carnival, the interior of the 
 Academy of Music was found filled with small, gayly 
 decorated booths, arranged around the outer circum- 
 ference of the auditorium, which was floored over. 
 Swiss chalets stood alongside Norwegian cottages, of 
 varnished logs, and German foresters' huts. There 
 was an old English inn, with pots of roses on the 
 window ledges and a stout host in the vine-clad porch. 
 There were a Spanish posada, and a chic auberge 
 taken bodily from a French opera bouffe. 
 
 Paul Barclay, on his arrival, found himself in an 
 atmosphere thick with smiles, bows, and compli- 
 ments, the choice perfume of civilization. The eye 
 was greeted by pyramids of fantastic objects for sale, 
 baskets and arches of exotic flowers, and glitter of 
 china and silver, brought out to serve dainty refresh- 
 ments upon. There were belles in the ordinary cos- 
 tume of society : some of the demure, high-necked 
 sort, and other sirens in low dresses, making a fasci- 
 nating display of neck and arms through their gauzes. 
 All the pretty, frail peasants, in their coquettish caps 
 and aprons, would have evoked only laughing scorn 
 from the buxom originals in the mother country, but
 
 212 TEE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 they were none the less fair to see for that. The 
 masculine Tyroleans, Troubadours, and Highlanders, 
 young business men of Keewaydin, concealed with 
 but little success their daily indentification with the 
 affairs of East and "West Water streets. 
 
 Barclay had made the rounds to a certain extent, 
 and was buying some trifle of a pretty girl, who rep- 
 resented the Belle Chocolatiere of the Dresden Gal- 
 lery, when he suddenly found himself next to Justine 
 DeBow. She wore a quaint old embroidered white 
 satin wedding-dress, handed down from some ances- 
 tor on her father's side, with powder and patches to 
 match. She looked handsomer than ever before, but 
 there was a cloud of trouble on her brow. After re- 
 ceiving her greeting, Barclay would have passed on 
 from her, also, with some few of the usual polite 
 forms, but she said to him in a low tone : 
 
 " Will you not take me for a short walk ? There 
 was something I wanted to say to you." 
 
 He offered her his arm, and they strolled about a 
 little, and then withdrew to a point near the stage, 
 somewhat remote from observation, where there was 
 a bower, In which were constructed mossy green 
 banks of baize. Miss DeBow made as if she would 
 have entered this bower, but he did not follow her 
 lead. The young woman then stood still, faced 
 him, and, first drawing a long, gasping breath, de- 
 manded : 
 
 "Is it on account of my mother on account of 
 what you you heard that evening, that you no 
 longer wish to associate with me ? "
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 213 
 
 " Not associate Could you think me capable of 
 it ? " he protested, at first not comprehending her 
 meaning, and then shocked and pained both for her 
 and himself. 
 
 " Then why have you so changed ? " she exclaimed. 
 " Why are you so cruel to me ? Why do you stay 
 away ? " 
 
 This was a case requiring far more delicacy of 
 treatment and tender consideration than that of Mrs. 
 Rycraft. In brief, she made love to him outright. 
 She shed tears, and showed all the signs of a genuine 
 emotion. The roles of the sexes are, on some rare 
 occasions, thus reversed. All this might, perhaps, 
 have been only a deliberate plan, of an unmaidenly 
 sort, a last throw, on the chance of winning him ; or 
 it might have been the spontaneous outburst of an 
 ill-regulated nature, yielding to a spell its own imagi- 
 nation had woven. 
 
 " Oh, I love you ! I want you to take me for 
 yours ! " she said to him passionately. " You are so 
 different from all the others I have ever known. I 
 want to be with you always." 
 
 Paul Barclay was surprised indeed to find how 
 callous he could remain to even such an appeal, how 
 efficacious was the panoply by which he was pro- 
 tected. 
 
 " I must not let you talk so. You are not quite 
 yourself in this," he answered her, gently. " You 
 will smile at your own folly, I am sure, when you 
 look back upon it, after a little time." 
 
 " At least you will not betray me," she asked,
 
 214 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 when she was at last convinced that her effort was of 
 no avail. 
 
 " You have given me a great proof of your confi- 
 dence," he said, " and it shall be most sacredly re- 
 spected." 
 
 A little bell rang sharply : all eyes were turned 
 towards the stage ; the coquettish peasants left their 
 booths, and stood forward, taking attitudes of uncon- 
 scious grace. The little bell rang again, and the cur- 
 tain went slowly up on the first of the tableaux. 
 "What a sight it was on the stage that met the aston- 
 ished eyes of Barclay ! 
 
 A vivid lime-light streamed full upon the figure of 
 the Golden Justice. It was Mrs. Varemberg, clad 
 in severe, straight-falling draperies of cloth of gold. 
 On her head was a golden helmet, by her side a long, 
 straight-hiked golden sword, and in her hands a pair 
 of golden scales. She was raised upon a pedestal 
 resembling that to which the statue was actually at- 
 tached, and she stood against a deep Hue ground, 
 representing the sky. Her hair and eyes and the 
 smooth flesh of face and hands mingled a warm hu- 
 man element with the imitation of metal. She re- 
 called one of the famous chryselephantine statues, of 
 ivory, ebony, gems, and gold. It was of such pre- 
 cious materials, instead of the bare, cold marble, that 
 the sculptors of antiquity delighted to fashion their 
 choicest works. 
 
 A murmur of surprise, increasing to admiration, 
 ran around the hall. " How striking, how original ! " 
 was the comment. " Who would have thought that
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 215 
 
 the image from our own city ball, apparently so void 
 of romance, could be made to figure in sucb a way?" 
 The Golden Justice was a greater success than all 
 the Cleopatras, Dorotheas, and Priscillas of the occa- 
 sion. It was voted a triumph of ingenuity on the 
 part of. both Schwartzmann and the eminent lady 
 who carried out the conception they had planned to- 
 gether, and it gave to Mrs. Varemberg a new acces- 
 sion of prestige. 
 
 The apparition stood immovable, an epitome of 
 serene majesty and loveliness. It was gloriously 
 bright, like the seraph Uriel, or Gabriel, chief of the 
 angel guards of heaven. Barclay gazed, breathless, 
 as if- any motion of his might cause it to vanish be- 
 fore its time. The young girl beside him saw the 
 rapture in his glance, and knew at last that all was 
 hopeless for her, and why it was. 
 
 " It is she," she said, desperately. " Ah, she does 
 well to use her arts of a woman of the world against 
 a poor girl ! " 
 
 " Hush ! " said Barclay ; " you must not speak 
 against her. She is the, best, the dearest, being in 
 the world." 
 
 At the same time the statue seemed to direct at 
 him, where he stood in his ill-assorted companion- 
 ship, a glance as of a certain reproach. He broke 
 away, left the hall almost fiercely, and went to allay 
 his turbulent agitation in the little park by the lake 
 shore, which had become a favorite resort with him. 
 His moment of thorough awakening had come. He 
 knew, without a shadow of disguise, that the fiction
 
 216 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 of a disinterested friendship he had been so long 
 cherishing was an utter mockery. He knew that he 
 was as wildly in love with Florence Lane as ever in 
 the maddest moment of the earlier time. And there 
 was now this singular thing about it that, whereas in 
 former days his ideal of her had been compounded 
 of blooming health and strength, and had been made 
 of the elements of a schoolboy's fancy had hardly 
 been of flesh and blood at all, but of sugar and spice, 
 the rose, the lily, honey, perfume, alabaster, coral, and 
 jade now his tender sympathy and love embraced 
 her with an equal ardor in all her human weakness 
 and decay. He conceived a union of souls and es- 
 sences, from which the body with all its imperfec- 
 tions might be eliminated and yet his affection remain 
 unchanged. 
 
 The discovery caused him the keenest pain. He 
 did not want to admit to himself that it was so. The 
 situation was such that the feeling ought not to be 
 disclosed. Should he conceal it and suffer in silence ? 
 To suffer heroically was part of a Spartan discipline 
 he had marked out for himself, but he knew that 
 in fact his state of mind could not be hidden. He 
 groaned aloud as he paced the esplanade in the 
 darkness. 
 
 " Is this to be the end ? " he asked. "Am I to put 
 myself in antagonism with all those social laws which 
 it should have been my part rather to strengthen 
 and enforce ? Am I to join the wretched band of 
 strugglers with illicit passion ? No ; one thing a man 
 can save when all else is lost, his honor. I must 
 go away from here, and never return."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 217 
 
 That same night, Mrs. Varemberg, fatigued and 
 depressed by the unusual exertion she had under- 
 gone, drove home as soon as her own part was over. 
 On alighting she inquired for her father, and learned 
 that he was then at home, and in his library. He 
 had not gone to the carnival, as he had intended, 
 having been detained, at the last moment. The se- 
 cret had been kept from him as well as the others, 
 and his daughter wished now that he should see her 
 in full paraphernalia before it should be permanently 
 laid aside. She threw a veil of light tissue, there- 
 fore, over her features, which both added to the stat- 
 uesque effect and concealed her identity, and went 
 to present herself before him in the library. The 
 door was ajar. She glided in. 
 
 David Lane looked up from his writing, and saw 
 the Golden Justice in his presence. Whether it was 
 the apparition itself, as something really uncanny, 
 or that he feared he was becoming a prey to danger- 
 ous hallucinations, or only the sudden suggestion of 
 all that the figure contained for him, his heart gave a 
 terrible throb ; he become very white ; he staggered 
 to his feet, gasping, and leaned on a corner of his 
 desk for support. 
 
 " Why, papa, am I really so formidable ? " cried 
 his daughter gayly. She had reason to be alarmed 
 at her unlooked-for success. 
 
 "I I am very nervous," he stammered, abating 
 the rigid fixity of his attitude, and sinking back again 
 into his seat. " You should have given me a little 
 notice. I was so occupied I did not hear you come 
 in."
 
 218 TUB GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " It seems to me I make almost too good a ghost. 
 It is like the statue of the commander walking in to 
 Don Juan. But you are no Don Juan, poor papa." 
 
 Of all possible conceits in the range of imagina- 
 tion, who could have foreseen that this would be 
 chosen to torture him with ? Destiny, he said to 
 himself, which meant to destroy him, had descended 
 to petty tricks of detail, to a malicious ingenuity. 
 It was playing with his heart-strings as a cat with a 
 mouse. 
 
 But he mustered his calmness again. He began to 
 compliment his daughter on her improved appear- 
 ance. He said he thought it would be well if she 
 would often take part in some such affairs, and try to 
 see a little more of the social world than she was in 
 the habit of doing. Mrs. Varemberg's golden helmet 
 and emblems of office were now laid aside ; her hair 
 flowed freely over her shoulders ; she extended her- 
 self in an arm-chair, and had more than ever the as- 
 pect of some seraph of the bright hosts of the Para- 
 dise Lost, some warrior saint of Palma Vecchio. 
 She spoke of her usual avocations, of her ennui and 
 longing. The storm must have been long in gather- 
 ing, but it now broke out as if from a clear sky. 
 
 " I will have a divorce V she suddenly cried. " I 
 will be free. I can stand this life no longer." 
 
 " Is it this man, this Barclay, who is at the bottom 
 of it ? " demanded her father, sternly. 
 
 " It is it is I cannot explain," she responded, 
 not able to be quite ingenuous, even in the midst of 
 her vehemence, which this question tended to abate.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 219 
 
 " I bear a uame identified with all that is hateful ; is 
 not that enough ? " 
 
 " And you will abandon your most cherished con- 
 victions ? " 
 
 " Oh, is it so irreparable f Is there no honorable 
 relief ? Must I drink the cup of wretchedness to the 
 very dregs ? " she cried, passionately. " You do not 
 know what I have suffered. If it had been only pov- 
 erty, how gladly I would have shared it with him ! 
 If it had been only sickness, how devotedly I would 
 have nursed him ! I had such a thirst for affection. 
 I us'ed to go sometimes and kiss him in his sleep, 
 and beg his forgiveness, because I dared not ad- 
 dress him thus when awake, though it was not I 
 who was in fault. But oh, papa, when he does not 
 want me, and never wanted me when I can ben- 
 efit neither him nor myself when all can do no 
 good " 
 
 So she spoke, standing flushed and panting before 
 him in her shining garb. David Lane was aroused, 
 never to be mistaken more, from the false security 
 into which he had lulled himself. He could only 
 murmur, just as Barclay had done before him, 
 
 " Try to be patient, dear ! All will yet be well." 
 
 "Yes," said Mrs. Varemberg humbly, at length, 
 " you are right. I hardly know what I am saying. 
 I will try to be patient ; I must be patient."
 
 A NAVAL ENGAGEMENT. 
 
 THE position of Paul Barclay in Keewaydin thus 
 seemed untenable. His passion for Florence Lane 
 was renewed in all its original intensity. In sweep- 
 ing away the sophistries in which he had lately im- 
 mersed himself, he was harshly unjust to the purity 
 of his early motives. 
 
 " She alone was my object in settling here ! " he 
 exclaimed fiercely. " My pretense of a regular avo- 
 cation has been but the most wretched piece of hy- 
 pocrisy." 
 
 At his factory he contemplated his men in their 
 shops, as he had often done before, but now with a 
 new feeling. He contrasted again the dingy interior 
 in which they worked with the parlors, full of light 
 and color and rare bibelots, which employers, himself 
 like the rest, enjoyed from the product of this labor. 
 But, after all, he reflected, these men had compensa- 
 tions in their work. They took a pride in their feats 
 of strength and skill. They did not mind the grime, 
 nor tread gingerly over it, but they we.re prepared 
 for it in a rough-and-ready dress it could not spoil. 
 What, indeed, in the last analysis, are dirt and grime ? 
 They are but particles of the general matter of which 
 the universe is made ; at the very worst, but one of
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 221 
 
 its phases of transformation. Under the microscope, 
 the ash-heap and even the gutter are as full of crys- 
 tals of loveliness as the snow. As he looked around, 
 he could feel that he had benefited in a small way 
 many of these employees. His stay there had not 
 been altogether in vain, so far as they were con- 
 cerned. For instance, he had aided old Fahnenstock 
 to secure the long-coveted cottage and bit of land at 
 Whitefish Bay ; he had established the ambitious 
 too hard-working McClary in a shop of his own ; he 
 had seen the boy Martin Krieg apprenticed to an 
 architect, and making an excellent beginning in that 
 profession ; he had ameliorated the lot and somewhat 
 brightened the views even of the saturnine Hoolan, 
 and given a set or two of useful books to Hassler, 
 who had a taste for reading, and so the story went. 
 Few but were the better in some way for having 
 known him. But their troubles now moved him less 
 than formerly ; care for their hardships was lost in 
 that for his own, which, though different in kind, 
 seemed not less in degree. He found himself saying 
 in a summarizing way, 
 
 " It is not the special situation in life that is im- 
 portant ; it is the character, the disposition, of the 
 man. To every lot is attached its pains, as well as 
 its compensations, and it may well be that the pains 
 of the higher station are often the keenest." 
 
 So far as he had had any definite intentions to 
 make himself an authority on the laboring classes, 
 and to enter into practical philanthropy in that 
 field, in his despondency he doubted if he had
 
 222 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 really had any such intentions, they might at some 
 time be prosecuted elsewhere. 
 
 He passed several days of mental conflict and wa- 
 vering, and nights of broken slumbers. Then he ar- 
 rived at an inflexible resolve, confirming that towards 
 which he had tended at first, as the solution of the 
 difficulty. Heroic resolutions are said to be those 
 which are preferred in love, because they are impos- 
 sible of fulfillment. At last his shilly-shallying was 
 at an end. He determined to see no more of Mrs. 
 Varemberg, to withdraw from the partnership with 
 Maxwell, and to leave Keewaydin at the earliest pos- 
 sible moment. Yes, there seemed nothing for it but 
 that he must go. 
 
 Spi-ing was wont to be slow in coming to Keeway- 
 din, and it was as yet only the beginning of March, 
 but there was a spell of exceptionally mild weather. 
 The winter had been an eccentric one in many ways, 
 but the oldest inhabitants the ancient weather-vane- 
 maker, Ole Alfsen, among them said that nothing 
 like this had been seen in a good twenty years at 
 least. 
 
 On the morning of the final resolve referred to, 
 Barclay hurried away from his untasted breakfast. 
 Instead of taking a more straightforward route to 
 his factory, he repaired thither by the way of his fa- 
 vorite promenade along the lake shore. Once there, 
 he lingered awhile, giving way to his discontent and 
 melancholy, enhanced by the subtle mildness of the 
 air. Like another Achilles, he paced by the sound- 
 ing sea, and grieved his noble heart for beautiful lost 
 Briseis.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 223 
 
 " I who aimed to play the providence in the lives 
 of others," he lamented, " what have I done for my 
 own ? " And he went on : " Where next shall I 
 turn ? What next, in the world, shall I do ? " 
 
 Patches of snow were melting, and the water from 
 them was running gayly away in the gutters, simula- 
 ting all the antics of the mightiest streams. A few 
 tender shoots of grass had put forth their green heads 
 from under the snow, perhaps astonished at their own 
 temerity. Down on the margin of the lake, under 
 the steep incline, some children were playing boldly 
 on the floating ice ; making believe that the broken 
 cakes, from one to another of which they leaped with 
 the aid of poles, were their boats and islands. The 
 great body of the ice in the bay was loosened, and 
 going out under the impulse of favoring winds from 
 the south. Detached masses of it flecked the blue 
 expanse far and wide, like shining islands of the 
 blessed. 
 
 There was to be noted in the offing a large bark, 
 making her way in, and acting strangely. She 
 proved to be the Ocean Wanderer, a vessel loaded 
 with jute and paraffine, which had been winter-bound, 
 above, by the sudden close of navigation in the fall, 
 and was now availing herself of the first opportunity 
 to run for her port. Barclay was to see her again, 
 later in the day, under strange circumstances indeed. 
 While he followed, scarce wittingly, the motions of 
 this vessel, Ives Wilson drove by in a bespattered 
 buggy, and hailed him. 
 
 " Oho, spring fever," said the editor, characterizing
 
 'J'J 1 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 his air of listlessness ; " but you are forcing tbe sea- 
 son a good two months. There is a great deal more 
 chilliness, too, in this air than you may be aware of." 
 
 He insisted on taking Barclay up and carrying him 
 a part of the way on his journey ; and the latter, who 
 had already loitered a good deal longer than he had 
 meant to, accepted the accommodation. 
 
 " I am flying around, seeing my aldermen, super- 
 visors, and that sort of people," said Wilson. " The 
 elections are coming on soon, and the city and county 
 printing has got to be looked after. I always make 
 it a point to attend to those things myself." 
 
 " Is there any danger, then, of your losing your 
 profitable contracts ? " 
 
 Well, no ; the Index always sticks to a good 
 thing when it has it, and of course it will now. Our 
 readers expect it of us. Of course it 's all right, but 
 I go round once in a while and keep our friends up 
 to the mark." 
 
 " I hear Jim DeBow is going into politics, and is 
 likely to be our next mayor," said Barclay, by way 
 of keeping up the conversation." 
 
 " Going in ? It would be more of a novelty if he 
 would keep out. He 's always been in, more or less, 
 under the surface. Yes, this time he wants an office 
 for himself, though, to tell the truth, it 's not so 
 much for himself, either. He wants to help Ross- 
 more to the senatorship, at the next session of the 
 legislature, you know. If DeBow is mayor, he '11 
 work the city employees and contractors for his friend 
 Rossmore, and against Gulmore, for all they are
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 225 
 
 worth. Well, that 's all right. I 'm for Rossmore, 
 too." 
 
 " You give me an interesting inside view of things." 
 
 " Oh, that 's nothing ; you '11 be in politics your- 
 self, some day, and then you '11 see the real inside. 
 Why don't you use the popularity you 've got down 
 there among the factory hands, and run for some- 
 thing now ? The Index will back you, you can de- 
 pend upon that." 
 
 " Considering that I have not been a resident long 
 enough, and for some few other reasons, I hardly 
 think I will," said Barclay dryly. 
 
 " Oh, as to residence, our law is a little peculiar. 
 In order to .encourage the investment of capital, it 
 makes a manufacturing enterprise like yours equiva- 
 lent to a period of residence, you know. You are a 
 citizen in good and regular standing, and can run for 
 any office you please." 
 
 " Thank you ! It is worth knowing." Little his 
 interlocutor thought of the brief space of his remain- 
 ing stay. 
 
 " By the by," began Ives Wilson again, " there 's 
 a man down your way Idak, the landlord of the 
 Johannisberger House whose vote I'd like to se- 
 cure, in case he 's nominated for alderman. Our read- 
 ers want the Index to have Idak's vote, of course, 
 but the fact is we've had to haul him over the coals a 
 good deal, show him up as a corruptionist and that 
 sort of thing, and he probably don't feel very friend- 
 ly towards us. You don't think you could let him 
 understand that the custom of your hands would de- 
 pend on his giving the Index his vote, do you ? "
 
 _'_'', THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " No, I don't think I could." 
 
 " Oh, a mere suggestion ; no offense," said the 
 other, with the greatest good-nature. " He wants to 
 go into the board only to get another lamp-post in 
 front of his house, I understand, and most likely we 
 can block him any way, if he is n't with us." 
 
 The river, as well as the land, showed the unusual 
 forwardness of the season. Several of its bridges 
 had begun to turn, for passing vessels, with considera- 
 ble frequency. People who were hindered by them 
 did not give vent to their impatience in the ordinary 
 way, but lingered, and noted gladly the stir on the 
 water, which furnished such tangible evidence that 
 the long embargo of winter was broken, and the 
 genial spring at hand. The sail-lofts and block and 
 cordage shops were open, active repairs were in prog- 
 ress, and the smell of tar, oakum, and fresh pine 
 shavings pervaded the docks. 
 
 Regular navigation was by no means yet open, 
 but several craft in the river had taken advantage 
 of the occasion to change their moorings from one 
 point to another, in tow of the stout little steam-tugs. 
 The lower works of many, which were for the first 
 time visible, now that they were fairly denuded of 
 the ice, presented a battered and rusty appearance 
 after their hard usage by the winter. The circle 
 of gossips, who had too long hibernated round the 
 large stove in the main room of the Johannisberger 
 House, were glad to come forth to the porch and see 
 a little of actual marine affairs out-of-doors. One 
 Coffee John, on the street hard by, threw open for
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 227 
 
 the first time his booth, the shutters of which blos- 
 somed out like the leaves of some dusty sort of 
 Victoria Regina. 
 
 The cutter Florence Lane, among the other craft, 
 had pulled out, and taken a brief turn beyond the 
 mouth of the Straight Cut, with its two long piers, 
 and was now lying at her wharf, with steam partly 
 up. She was short-handed, as yet her complement 
 of men, furloughed for the winter, not having been 
 recalled to duty ; but she had limbered up her engines 
 a bit to prepare for the coming season. Barclay 
 heard this, in passing, from William Alfsen, who was 
 bustling about her in an important way. His chief 
 superior was absent that day, serving as groomsman 
 at a wedding, and the second was temporarily ill ; 
 leaving him in the position of leading care-taker, and 
 he seemed very much in his element. 
 
 Ives Wilson set Barclay down at the Chippewa 
 Street bridge, the latter insisting upon his doing 
 so, and went his way. Worthy Ludwig Trap- 
 schuh, at that place, had resumed his full air of 
 bumptious arrogance, kept a little in abeyance during 
 the winter. He was accustomed to look at Barclay 
 with gangrened vision. He had heard of peculiar 
 doings on the part of this manufacturer, to which, 
 as a conservative person, he did not give his ap- 
 proval, but it was the aid to the Alfsens that was 
 chiefly offensive to him. Not only had the son se- 
 cured, lately, the place on the cutter, but the old man, 
 his father, so it was stated, had been given a 
 very profitable job of ornamental copper-work to do
 
 228 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 for the factory itself. But Trapschuh was accus- 
 tomed to give this regular passenger a semi-respect- 
 ful nod, nevertheless. As he did so to-day in the 
 usual way, he said, 
 
 " Some kind o' circus goin' on over by your fec- 
 toree, ain't it ? " 
 
 Barclay looked, and saw that a disturbance was in 
 progress on the Island. The aspect of it grew more 
 serious as he approached. A rioting mob of long- 
 shoremen, in fact, were trying to prevent the unload- 
 ing of a vessel, recently arrived at the coal and wood 
 yards of Miller & Blake, some neighbors with whom 
 he had a slight acquaintance. Matters had reached 
 a dangerous pass by the time he set foot in the midst 
 of them. The foremost rioters were already ex- 
 changing fisticuffs with the men on the vessel, and 
 some of the latter had drawn long knives and stood 
 on the defensive. His eye caught that of Fahnen- 
 stock, who was in a small assemblage of spectators 
 on the sidewalk, at a safe distance from the fray. 
 The old man stepped promptly forth in response to 
 his inquiry. A number of the other men and boys 
 from his factory were there as well ; were watching 
 with interest the issue of events. The police had 
 been sent for, but had not yet come. 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked Paul Barclay. 
 " What is going on ? " 
 
 " Supply and demand is the matter. The unifyin' 
 o' labor is the matter," responded the usually quiet 
 employee, indulging in mild sarcasm, something very 
 unusual for him. " If Hoolan was only here, he 'd
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 229 
 
 give you all the outs and ins of it. It 's a strike,'* 
 he went on. " The coal-heavers would n't work for 
 the wages offered 'em, and the owners put on a gang 
 o' Polacks in their place, and now the men are tryin' 
 to drive the Polacks away." 
 
 " The Polacks is takin' the bread out of our 
 mouths ! " the cry here arose. " D n 'em, we '11 
 club 'em ; we '11 throw 'em into the river ! " 
 
 Barclay hurried forward. He would have been 
 sorry to see his neighbors or their property come 
 to any harm. Blake, the junior partner, a small, 
 weak man, emerged from his office, near the wharf, 
 and, mounting a temporary rostrum, attempted an 
 address. 
 
 " I tell you, men," he began, " the rate we offer is 
 better than that paid in Buffalo, Detroit, or Cleve- 
 land to-day." 
 
 " Down with him! Give us our money! Put up 
 or shut up ! " shouted the unruly mob, interrupting 
 him wildly. 
 
 All at once a shower of sticks and stones filled the 
 air. A rush was made for the orator ; he was over- 
 turned from his brief prominence, and it would with- 
 out doubt have fared hardly with him but for the 
 protecting arm of Barclay, who had forced his way 
 through the crowd in the nick of time, followed zeal- 
 ously by some of his own men. The young rescuer 
 had a sort of leonine, intrepid air he was seldom 
 seen to wear. He took the rostrum himself. He 
 was already known, and his reputation for fearless- 
 ness commanded respect. His words put the matter
 
 230 Til K GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 in a reasonable light, and he was allowed to speak 
 without molestation. 
 
 " One swallow does not make a summer, my men," 
 he said in substance, " nor one day of thaw like this 
 a season's marine traffic. You have here but a soli- 
 tary vessel. She has worked her way through the 
 ice with great difficulty, and there are not likely to 
 be any others for a long time to come. Even sup- 
 posing the pay be not all you think you are fairly 
 entitled to, is it worth while to quarrel about so 
 small a matter ? Come, I ask you to look at it like 
 sensible men. Is it not better to wait till the Straits 
 of Mackinaw are open ? When the fleet comes 
 through, and there are plenty of vessels and plenty 
 of work, that is the time to settle the question of 
 wages for the coming season." 
 
 His own men, patriotically standing by " the boss," 
 set up a shrill cheering, in which some of the strikers 
 faintly joined. The disturbance was checked, at any 
 rate, and during its time of vacillation a platoon of 
 police arrived at double quick, and took possession 
 of the ground. The sight of the guardians of the 
 peace renewed the irritation of the strikers and made 
 them think anew of their grievances, but it was now 
 too late. They dispersed and stood in small knots 
 along the bridges leading to the mainland, and in 
 front of the small saloons there, then by degrees* 
 disappeared altogether, and danger of further rioting 
 was at an end. 
 
 On reaching his Works, Barclay returned again to 
 the momentous subject he had on his mind. He
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 231 
 
 meant to announce to Maxwell his resignation from 
 the partnership. But Maxwell was not there. On 
 the contrary, he was met by a request from Maxwell 
 who had been a little indisposed for two or three 
 days past to go over and see him at his house as 
 soon as convenient, and thither he hastened to Max- 
 well. 
 
 He found his elderly partner rising up in bed, sup- 
 ported by pillows, surrounded in a solicitous way by 
 his family, and presenting the appearance of quite a 
 sick man. The Maxwell family never concealed their 
 appreciation of the fact that Barclay had been their 
 salvation from ruin, and their manner to him on the 
 present occasion was not less full of affectionate grat- 
 itude than usual. 
 
 Maxwell feebly put out his hand to take that of 
 the visitor. 
 
 " Well, here I am," said he, affecting a certain 
 cheerfulness, as invalids do. " Here I am, laid up in 
 dry-dock, and hardly not likely ever to get afloat again, 
 enough to be worth mentioning." 
 
 o o 
 
 " Don't say that ! What seems to be the trouble ? " 
 " The same old trouble, liver and kidneys, I sup- 
 pose. Perhaps I 've never said quite enough about 
 it to you. Never fear, it is n't going to finish me 
 this time. I thought, one while, it was. There 's 
 one simple little straightforward thing, though, that 's 
 got to be done, and that 's why I 've sent for you." 
 
 {' Let us do this simple little straightforward thing 
 at once, then, by all means," returned the younger 
 partner smilingly.
 
 232 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " I have got to give up business. You must run 
 the factory alone." 
 
 " What ! " cried Barclay, astonished to find his own 
 very proposition thus taken out of his mouth, in the 
 reverse sense, and used against him. " I cannot 
 think of it." 
 
 " You must. There is no alternative. It 's either 
 dissolution of the partnership or a dissolution of the 
 partner. The doctors told me to stop work long ago, 
 or it would stop me. I did n't do it, and this is what 
 it has come to." 
 
 " I leave all my interests in your hands," he went 
 on presently. " You shall give me what you please. 
 All we have in the world, any way, comes from you, 
 and why should I not trust it to you with the most 
 unlimited confidence ? " 
 
 " You magnify a very small matter," protested his 
 hearer modestly. 
 
 " It 's so. and sometimes I want you to be willing 
 to hear it. I have no fear but the business will pros- 
 per, and all of us with it. You have got to prosper ; 
 you are too good not to, if there 's any justice go- 
 ing. I have no fear of your not being able to run the 
 factory alone ; you are a born manager and a great 
 success. You are the very man for it." 
 
 Careful inquiry and conference with the medical 
 advisers and the family but served to confirm the 
 truth of the state of things herein outlined. Retire- 
 ment from the partnership was no mere whin^ of 
 Maxwell's, but an inexorable necessity. Barclay saw 
 that he would be obliged to remain in the place until
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 233 
 
 a proper winding tqp of the responsibilities thus fall- 
 ing to his charge could be effected. He would not 
 have hesitated, by hasty action, to sacrifice his own 
 financial interests, but the others could not be lightly 
 treated. He must remain till there was a sale and 
 transfer of the business, and an equitable division of 
 the proceeds. 
 
 As he left the house, his heart partly sank with 
 added depression, partly fluttered with new elation at 
 this enforced change of plan, and all that might hap- 
 pen during the lengthened period of his stay. An- 
 other change 01 temperature had occurred ; the brief, 
 unseasonable touch of spring weather was already 
 over. The wind now blew from the northeast, driv- 
 ing the brief ethereal mildness before it, and bringing 
 cutting snowflakes on its wings. While still at Max- 
 well's house, Barclay had heard, in the muffled way 
 in which it is conveyed to close interiors, the din of 
 the fire tocsin. He now heard the brazen clangor 
 taken up by one bell after another, till it reached the 
 dimensions of a general alarm. Many persons were 
 running excitedly towards the river ; he followed, and 
 when he reached a rising ground, saw fire at a number 
 of points along the water's edge. The most consid- 
 erable blaze was surely near his own property on 
 Barclay's Island. He remembered the events of the 
 morning, suspected incendiarism on the part of the 
 dissuaded strikers, and hurried in hot haste towards 
 the scene. 
 
 This is what had happened. The bark Queen 
 Wanderer had come into the harbor with everything
 
 234 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 drawing, and something so abnormal in her handling, 
 so nervous in her haste, that calamity seemed an- 
 nounced in advance. She did not lower any sail, but 
 tore through the Straight Cut at her swiftest pace. 
 Her steering was so erratic that the light-keeper 
 thought it a miracle she was not dashed in pieces 
 even against the entrance piers. He saw a part of 
 her small crew lying on her decks, as if utterly ex- 
 hausted, while others furiously worked the deck 
 pumps. A speed of four miles an hour was dec- 
 orously prescribed as the maximum for vessels in the 
 river, but this, together with all other marine regu- 
 lations, she disregarded. The harbor master's depu- 
 ties marked her with wondering eyes, and, recovering 
 themselves, followed her along the docks, to arrest 
 and subject her to condign punishment. But she was 
 not easily overtaken ; she had no idea of stopping. 
 Some small craft in her way avoided her with diffi- 
 culty, and their amazed crews hurled imprecations 
 after her. The lower bridges flew open before her 
 to avoid collision, and she entered the wide, open ex- 
 pause, or basin, by Barclay's Island in the heart of 
 the city. Where vessels were so numerous, to escape 
 entanglement was impossible. She barely missed a 
 schooner, carrying away a yawl from its davits, but 
 the next moment struck a luckless brigantine, head 
 on, and sent it to the bottom. Some of her men, 
 meanwhile, danced about, called and signalled, and 
 finally jumped overboard. 
 
 The mystery of her strange conduct was out. 
 From the yawning seams, opened by the shock, leaped
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 235 
 
 forth tongues of flame, which licked quickly up the 
 sides of the hull, and seized the shrouds and sails. The 
 Ocean Wanderer was on fire. The hatches had been 
 battened down, to keep the air from it, and the crew 
 had fought bravely, hoping to save the cargo, and 
 bring their vessel within reach of assistance, but at 
 the last moment, had been too exhausted even to 
 shorten sail, or properly direct her course. 
 
 A patrol from a harbor fire-boat got aboard, and 
 let go an anchor ; but the flames so wreathed the 
 tackles that the sails could not be interfered with, 
 and the bark still drove onward, with such a momen- 
 tum as snapped the chain. A hawser was then hur- 
 riedly made fast, and an enterprising tug undertook 
 to draw her away from further mischief, and detain 
 her where she could be effectively dealt with, but 
 this burned off almost immediately. The heat be- 
 came so intense that all alike were now obliged to 
 seek their own safety, and leave her to her fate. 
 
 When Barclay arrived in the vicinity, he found 
 that the coal-yards of Miller & Blake, with the dis- 
 puted vessel of the morning, and his own principal 
 buildings as well, had been kindled by sparks from 
 the floating fire-bug, and were wellnigh consumed. 
 Foreman Akins, with a few assistants, was passing 
 buckets of water to save a few of the minor struc- 
 tures, but the factory proper was beyond recall. Old 
 Fahnenstock was muttering, as he worked, apt quota- 
 tions from the Book of Daniel and the Apocalypse. 
 
 The singular agent of destruction grew momenta- 
 rily more threatening. The sheets of flame streamed
 
 236 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 yet higher and more wildly from her inflammable 
 cargo. Her sails still drew, and the breezes that 
 filled them, made the more capricious by the heat of 
 the conflagration, caused her to tack and veer about 
 the basin as with a kind of malignant deliberation. 
 One would have said a crew of demons on board di- 
 rected her movements that she might do the great- 
 est possible harm. The fire-bells on shore were 
 ringing continuously, and all the engines were out, in 
 active use. The citizens thronged to the waterside 
 by thousands, to witness the unheard-of spectacle. 
 
 The news had been brought to William Alfsen by 
 vessels hastily changing their moorings and escaping 
 up the river. Lieutenant Gregg, as has been said, 
 was serving as groomsman at a wedding, and about 
 this very time was pacing up the central aisle of St. 
 Jude's. The beautiful bridesmaid on his manly arm 
 was no other than Justine DeBovv. Whether it was 
 only pique on her part, or genuine liking for the lieu- 
 tenant, suddenly developed, together with reconcile- 
 ment to her disappointment, as we must all become 
 reconciled to the inevitable, it is certain that she 
 had never treated the commander of the cutter so 
 well as now. And again whether this idea had 
 already entered her head, or was only to take form 
 there by slow degrees it may be told here as well 
 as elsewhere that she was to walk beside him as a 
 principal in a similar procession before the year was 
 out. 
 
 The organ of St. Jude's pealed forth the rich 
 strains of the wedding march. A modish bride in
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 237 
 
 white satin and orange blossoms, beside a groom who 
 looked a trifle stiff and embarrassed, paced back 
 again down the aisle ; four handsome bridesmaids in 
 tea-rose and pink, with four gallant groomsmen, 
 Justine DeBow was making a mental note of the 
 whole, and resolving that her own wedding should be 
 very nearly like it, followed them ; and four pretty 
 children, with baskets of flowers, brought up the rear 
 of the procession. In the church porch Lieutenant 
 Gregg was apprised by a messenger, sent by Alfsen, 
 of what was taking place on the river. The man 
 had waited a little, not having dared to interrupt him 
 at an earlier stage of the proceedings. There were 
 festivities still to take place, rice and old shoes to be 
 thrown after the bride as she started on her wedding 
 journey ; but the honest lieutenant's duty lay else- 
 where. If his vessel were lost, he knew it would be 
 no valid excuse to the government that he had been 
 assisting even at the most distinguished of marriage 
 ceremonies. 
 
 When he reached the wharf the cutter was gone. 
 Alfsen, in fact, finding him so long in coming, had 
 not waited for him. As the panic in the river in- 
 creased, he had put on a full head of steam, to be 
 prepared for emergencies. Information was brought 
 him that the destruction below was appalling ; all 
 efforts to check it were vain ; the whole town might 
 be burned. An original inspiration all at once took 
 possession of him. He hastily recruited a force of 
 assistants from the shore, cast off his lines, and turned 
 his bow down stream.
 
 238 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 Ludwig Trapscliuh opened the bridge before for 
 him, staring very hard indeed ; a lively curiosity 
 mingled both with his dislike and the excitement of 
 the moment. 
 
 " What he 's goin' down stream for, instead of 
 up ? " he wondered aloud. " And what he 's goin' 
 to do with all them guns ? " 
 
 The Florence Lane was a side-wheel steamer, of 
 some four hundred tons burden, carrying two light 
 deck guns forward and two more aft. Alfsen shifted 
 the guns to the same side, and prepared for action. 
 The multitude of other witnesses around the margin 
 of the basin where the cutter appeared shared the 
 curiosity of Trapschuh. Why was she coming down 
 to actually court the danger, instead of seeking safety 
 in flight ? But occasion for doubt was soon dis- 
 pelled. The Florence Lane, after passing the bridge, 
 wore round, manoeuvred to windward, then ran down 
 daringly close to the burning vessel, and poured a 
 telling broadside into her. An enthusiastic cheer 
 from the shores filled the air : the plan was under- 
 stood ; a promising form of deliverance had at last 
 appeared. 
 
 A naval battle now ensued, singular indeed for 
 this quiet stream, in the very midst of the town. 
 The cutter's pieces were of but small calibre, and the 
 marauder, though staggered and checked by their 
 fire, was not yet disposed of. Barclay saw her turn 
 towards her assailant, as if actuated by a definite and 
 conscious purpose of revenge. The cutter glibly 
 evaded her, and again manoeuvred for a place of van-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 239 
 
 tage. A fickle current of air that had made the fire- 
 ship follow the other now abandoned her, and, ap- 
 pearing to disdain to chase further so cowardly an 
 antagonist, she veered once more towards the shore. 
 She gathered speed as she went. She seemed to 
 threaten in a direct line the most dangerous of all 
 the points yet selected, a group of the imposing 
 wheat elevators. One touch of her fiery beak upon 
 them, one blast of her burning breath, and they were 
 gone beyond hope of rescue. 
 
 At this moment Lieutenant Gregg arrived, having 
 followed his missing cutter down the river. He 
 shouted hoarsely to Alfsen through his coupled 
 hands, and then ran about in search of a boat in 
 which to put off to him. The subordinate made no 
 apparent change in bis purposes. He steamed after 
 the receding bark, and fired into her another broad- 
 side, this time astern. She reeled under this even 
 more than the former, but still kept on her menacing 
 course. The distance between her and the shore 
 rapidly diminished. 
 
 Once more Alfsen ran boldly near her, to wind- 
 ward, and trained his guns, loaded now with chain 
 cable, on her quarter. The roar of this final report 
 went forth from all the brazen throats at once. The 
 death wound was inflicted ; the bark's side was stove 
 in. She gave a violent lurch downward ; the waters 
 poured over her ; and with dense, suffocating clouds 
 of steam rising from the conflict of fire and water, 
 she sank heavily out of sight. Only a portion of her 
 spars and cordage still remained above the surface, 
 crackling and snapping awhile till consumed.
 
 240 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 The danger of further loss of property averted, 
 William Alfsen was the hero of the hour. A purse 
 was started for his benefit, but this, not being com- 
 pleted at the moment, languished, after the manner 
 of such subscriptions, and never amounted to any- 
 thing tangible. A more real reward, in the shape of 
 promotion from Washington, was also kept back for 
 some time through the enmity of Lieutenant Gregg. 
 That commander could not reconcile himself to see- 
 ing another reap the honors of the occasion ; he was 
 inclined even to make charges against his subordi- 
 nate. But this ill-will was eventually withdrawn, 
 and Alfsen was duly advanced and came to be es- 
 teemed a man in the way of yet higher promotion. 
 
 Paul Barclay, having seen the Stamped - Ware 
 Works reduced to ashes, turned away. Little time 
 now was needed for any cumbrous adjustment of af- 
 fairs ; it was only a question of collecting the insur- 
 ance money. His philanthropic experience and his 
 agitating quandary were ended alike in the most ef- 
 fective of ways, and he was free to go when he 
 would. 
 
 He put any small matters of his own that might 
 yet need attention into the hands of a reliable agent. 
 He made provision for the hands thrown out of work, 
 that they need not suffer till they had had ample 
 time to find employment elsewhere. Then, when all 
 was complete, and the last preparations for his de- 
 parture made, he went to pay his final respects to 
 Mrs. Varemberg.
 
 XI. 
 
 MRS. VAREMBERG IS RELEASED. 
 
 MRS. VAREMBERG'S first explanation to herself of 
 Barclay's visit was that he had been moved by the 
 exciting events last described to abandon the peculiar 
 reserve he had manifested of late, and had comeback 
 to her somewhat in the old way. 
 
 She had sat down at once and written him a note 
 of sympathy, as soon as she had learned by public 
 hearsay something of the circumstances of the case. 
 
 " It is fortunate you were so well insured," she 
 said ; " the fire will not prove an unmixed calamity, 
 after all. You can now rebuild, and incorporate in 
 the new factory all your favorite ideas." 
 
 " I do not think of rebuilding," he replied, in a 
 grave way, in which she already found something 
 ominous. 
 
 " Not rebuild ? You are surely not going to give 
 up your plans, and allow a business of such impor- 
 tance to lapse entirely ? " 
 
 " The partnership had been dissolved even before 
 the fire took place. Maxwell was obliged to with- 
 draw, by the condition of his health, and I could not 
 go on alone. I had already prepared to wind the 
 business up, or transfer it to other hands. I have no 
 longer any pretext for staying. I am going away 
 from Keewaydin for good."
 
 242 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 \\\< companion gave him a startled, pathetic glance 
 that seemed to search his very soul. Then she af- 
 fected to receive the news of his departure, as Barclay 
 hud tried to convey it, with a decorous calmness. 
 
 " And your army of hands," she said, " thus thrown 
 out of employment, it will be a severe blow to 
 them ; but of course you could not be expected to 
 stay on their account alone." 
 
 " I have done what I could for them. I trust they 
 will not suffer, but will obtain places in other shops." 
 
 " Well, we shall all be sorry you are going ; you 
 will be much missed. Yes, this has been an unfor- 
 tunate fire indeed." 
 
 Her lips trembled, and her eyes fell uneasily to 
 the floor instead of meeting his. The conversation 
 seemed already to languish ; there appeared to be 
 little more to say. 
 
 Barclay had come in with his hat and stick, and sat 
 on the edge of a sofa, with a sort of temporary air, as 
 if momentarily about to move. Mrs. Varemberg sat 
 near him in a high-backed, carved-oak chair. She 
 leaned back presently, and found a support for her 
 head against it, as with a patient languor of suffering. 
 Her lover involuntarily noted this pose, as he had so 
 often studied before every varied phase of her aspect. 
 Was it really some transcendent charm in her, that 
 was visible to all others as well, or was it only the 
 glamour of his affection ? for she was always beau- 
 tiful to him. In every attitude, whether sitting, 
 standing, reclining, whether moving or at rest, he 
 could have called to her with delight to stay and be
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 243 
 
 pictured so. There was nothing bizarre or operatic 
 in her type ; she was full of a gentle repose. In her 
 weakness she had seemed to him like a flower that 
 the dew and sunshine might yet wholly revive ; bent 
 on its stalk, but not broken. 
 
 " Must I leave thee, Paradise, leave these happy 
 walks and shades ? " Barclay half quoted to himself, 
 as he wistfully gazed. He knew well that it would 
 have been far better not to have come to pay his re- 
 spects in person. He ought to have followed his first 
 intention, and only written to her : he could have 
 pretended that some sudden business exigency had 
 prevented him from doing anything else. 
 
 They talked in the wretched, perfunctory way that 
 people do who have, on every ground of prudence, to 
 avoid the one topic on which their thoughts are burn- 
 ingly alive. But when it appeared that all Barclay's 
 preparations were complete and he was to leave town 
 the very next day, Mrs. Varemberg started with an 
 agitation she could not overcome. She said to her- 
 self that she had counted upon more time. Not that 
 a little time more or less, or a few more meetings, 
 should have made any great difference, it is true ; but 
 she thought that, with a proper interval, while he was 
 still in the place, she might somehow have better rec- 
 onciled herself to the idea. 
 
 " Men are fortunate," she commented, in a dreary 
 tone . " they can go ; life is full of distractions for 
 them. It is always women who must remain." 
 
 " Come, why need we take a serious tone ? " re- 
 joined Paul Barclay, assuming a brisk cordiality, to
 
 '-Mi THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 cover the critical moment of the good-by. " There ! " 
 taking both her hands into his, and giving them a 
 hearty pressure, " we shall meet again, of course ; 
 people always do, you know. It will probably not be 
 long till then." 
 
 Mrs. Varemberg had arisen, and stood by a scroll- 
 fashioned end of the sofa, and she now leaned against 
 it for support. 
 
 " See what a little sympathy and companionship 
 can do," she said. " It seems as if I could not bear 
 to have you go." She affected a plaintive smile, but 
 her look was pitifully wistful and forlorn. 
 
 This was fatuous conduct, if there were any real 
 intention to adhere to the proprieties, to part without 
 explanation, but it was involuntary. A tide of feel- 
 ing was rising beyond the power of either to control. 
 Barclay had nerved up all his fortitude against him- 
 self, but he had not expected to have to contend 
 against her weakness as well. 
 
 " I have been a little distraction to you ; is not that 
 all, dear Virginia ?" he said, taking affectionately the 
 name they had used in their familiar correspondence. 
 He spoke coaxingly, soothingly, like some strong 
 elder brother. " You will find others who will answer 
 the purpose just as well. We know how it is in these 
 cases ; it is not so much the particular person, as some 
 one, any one, to fill a sort of weary, aching void. Atn 
 I not right ? " 
 
 " I wonder if it be so ? Yes, perhaps it is so," she 
 answered in a dreamy way, and there were tones in 
 her voice that suggested the sighing of the wind 
 through lonesome pines.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 245 
 
 This partial agreement with him, even though he 
 had sought it, gave him an acute pang. A violent 
 struggle was going on within him. It was not what 
 he had wished to hear. 
 
 " So, then, good-by ! " he resumed. " I expect soon 
 to hear that you have got rid of all your troubles, and 
 are the gayest of the gay." 
 
 "We were such good friends," she said in a retro- 
 spective way, disregarding this at first. " We seemed 
 to have so many things in common. Do you know, it 
 has often been a pleasure to me to know that you 
 were in the place, even when I never saw you. And 
 I am such a poor creature of habit ; the few things 
 that are agreeable in my life take such a hold on me. 
 What shall I do without you ? I shall die ; that is 
 the way I shall come to the end of my troubles." 
 
 Tears, or almost tears, for him, from such a source ? 
 It was incredible, bewildering. The final stage was 
 reached. Overcome by his emotions, Paul Barclay 
 found no further obstacles potent enough to resist the 
 extremes to which he was led. He threw aside all his 
 austere resolutions, or rather he fell upon them as a 
 defeated Roman general fell upon his sword. 
 
 " Can it be, dear child, that you love me ? " he 
 demanded passionately. " Can it be that,' after all 
 this time, I have won the priceless treasure of your 
 affection ? " 
 
 " Love you ? Yes, it must be that I do, I love 
 you dearly. Why should I not tell you, since my 
 heart is so full of it ? And you you have cared 
 for me, too ? "
 
 246 THE GULDEN JUfTl< 
 
 '' Oh, I adore you, I worship you. Why do I not 
 find words to tell you all that I feel ? You are all 
 that is loveliest and best in womankind." 
 
 Forgetful of all else but this moment of rapture, 
 he called her " precious " and " darling " and " sweet 
 one-" He caressed with soft touches of infinite ten- 
 derness the fine hair growing upon her temples, and 
 mingled half-murmured words and kisses indistin- 
 guishably. 
 
 " Ah, why could not this have been years before ? " 
 she asked him presently. " You said to me once you 
 wondered that all others did not love me in those 
 times : why, then, did not you ? " 
 
 " Did you not know that I did ? Ah, no, I have 
 been but too plainly assured by your conduct that you 
 did not, fool aud novice that I was. I knew little 
 how to gain the favor of women. You were my only 
 thought. To have won you would have been the 
 paradise of my wildest dreams, and to lose you has 
 been the ruin of my whole existence." 
 
 " And I thought you were only my friend. How 
 unobservant I too must have been ! Shall I tell you 
 that I used to wish it were otherwise ? Shall I even 
 confess that it was to try you I first made a pretense 
 of encouraging Varemberg ? But then there came a 
 time when you seemed to grow utterly indifferent 
 towards me, and I let myself be drawn, without any 
 proper consideration, into this match that many things 
 conspired to foster." 
 
 " That must have been in my period of pique aud 
 moping. After I had gone, in my turmoil of mind,
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 247 
 
 to ask your father's consent and aid to make you a 
 formal proposal of marriage, and been refused by 
 him, I cared little, and perhaps hardly knew, what I 
 did." 
 
 " You made my father a proposal for my hand," 
 exclaimed his listener, in extreme astonishment, "and 
 I was never told of it ? Oh, when, when was th,is ? " 
 
 Barclay recalled the date, and, by a comparison of 
 times and seasons, they found that it must have been 
 much before the Varemberg affair was at all ad- 
 vanced. 
 
 " And all these wicked, wasted years might have 
 been spared ! " commented Mrs. Varemberg in stupe- 
 faction and dismay. Oh, what ruin, what ruin ! 
 
 " And it is true, dearest, that you might have loved 
 me even then ? " Barclay soon recommenced. 
 
 " I am sure that I might, that I did. I feel so to- 
 wards you now that I cannot conceive -of ever having 
 felt any differently. And yet perhaps I was wayward 
 in those times, and you were a little over-reserved 
 with me. I think I was a trifle afraid of you, as if 
 you were looking down at me from a superior height. 
 But your fine qualities had impressed me, your con- 
 sideration for me had touched me, even then. Others 
 my father should have been wise for me. Oh, 
 Paul, why were we so baffled and misled ? Why was 
 I not guided aright ? I can never forgive him." 
 
 Barclay essayed to reassure her. " He would 
 never have deliberately planned his own daughter's 
 unhappiness," he said. " He too must have been de- 
 ceived. It is easily supposable that he may have
 
 -I s THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 thought there were many more desirable suitors for 
 your hand than myself," said Barclay. 
 
 Did he need any amends to a wounded self-love 
 for the past, surely he must have felt that he had 
 them now. He found himself advanced to the post 
 of honor, not only at present, but beyond all compet- 
 itors from the first. He was not merely a solace and 
 refuge in the troubles of her life, though, in his 
 unselfish devotion to her, he was prepared to be con- 
 tent with even that, but the first choice of her 
 heart, in all its freshness. 
 
 \\ hat was now to be done ? The inexorable pres- 
 sure of the situation returned upon them. 
 
 "Must you go? "asked Mrs. Varemberg, in per- 
 suasive tones, soft as the cooing of a ring -dove. 
 " Wlty must you go ? Ah, yes, you have no pretext 
 for staying. You need a pretext for staying ; I alone 
 am not sufficient Do not mind me ! " she broke 
 off ; " it is only my weakness that talks in this wav." 
 " Listen to me, dearest Florence," said the lover 
 gravely. " After what has happened I must surely 
 go, even if there had not existed the most imperative 
 of reasons before ; we both know it. As to me, 
 when I leave here, I cannot say what I shall do or 
 where I shall go. I must not see you, nor scarcely 
 communicate with you. But this one thing is certain 
 beyond change : you have become a vital part of my 
 life, and I can never hereafter separate you from it. 
 Let us do this : let us agree to be true to each other, 
 to wait for each other. Perhaps Heaven, in its mercy, 
 will yet be propitious to us."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. ' 249 
 
 ' You must not make such a promise," protested 
 Florence, in a kind of horror. " You must not tie 
 yourself to one with so hopeless a future as mine. It 
 is folly ; it is wickedness. I beg of you not to do it ; 
 I beg of you to go and forget me." 
 
 " Do not fancy it will be hard," went on Barclay, 
 disregarding her in his turn. " To be true to your 
 memory, though you should never be mine, will be 
 sweeter to me than to win the favor of all the world 
 beside. I have loved you once and forever ; if I may 
 never have you, I will die as I have lived, but I will 
 not lower the standard of my ideal." 
 
 " Paul, dear Paul, you must not wait for me," she in- 
 sisted. " The world is so wide ; I am, not vain enough 
 to think it does not contain a great many more at- 
 tractive than I. You are one to inspire, as to give, 
 the truest affection. You will meet some one who is 
 far more worthy of you than I. I shall cease to be 
 the baneful influence I have been in your life; I shall 
 fade into a mere phantom, and you will be happy, as 
 you deserve." 
 
 " What you ask me to do would not be in my power, 
 even if I wished it. Do I not know myself ? Have 
 I not been tried by too many tests already ? " 
 
 " But why must you go ? " she pleaded weakly. 
 " Why can we not be only friends, and all go on as 
 before ? " 
 
 "The tongues of calumny have already begun to 
 wag. In staying, even if it were possible, I should 
 do you great harm in public repute. No, there is 
 'nothing else but for me to go. You and I are clear-
 
 250 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 headed ; we are not of that weak class who allow 
 themselves to be blinded by passion, entangled by 
 wretched sophistries." 
 
 " What if I were to say I do not care ? I do not 
 care, I do not care. What spell has this feeling 
 cast over me ? I cannot "see my way any longer as 
 to what is right and what is wrong. Why are we 
 made so ? Must the deepest and truest affection be 
 
 forever balked? " 
 
 / 
 
 " It is said," answered Barclay ruefully, " that an 
 honorable man ought to protect a woman even against 
 herself." 
 
 " Perhaps that is what he says when he does not 
 love her," she rejoined, with a reckless skepticism. 
 
 " That is what he says, darling, when he loves her 
 in the purest and holiest way as I love you." 
 
 " And you will go ? Oh, you are still here we 
 are talking together I cannot realize it. But to- 
 morrow ! to wake and find you gone, and to know that 
 I shall never see you again ! And then, all the to- 
 morrows, to-morrows, to-morrows ! " 
 
 " Our fate is hard ! " cried Barclay in response. 
 He was stirred beyond measure by this pathetic la- 
 ment for him. He was but human ; he abandoned 
 his self-control, so hardly maintained, and began to 
 rage, in his turn, at the toils in which they found 
 themselves taken. " I must run away with you or 
 from you," he said. He proposed that she should fly 
 with him. He beset her again on the subject of 
 divorce. He broke out into violent expressions 
 against David Lane and against Varemberg. " He
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 251 
 
 will die, he must die ! " he exclaimed excitably, in 
 reference to the latter. " It is not just. Why does 
 such vileness cumber the earth ? " 
 
 His companion recoiled. The vehemence of Bar- 
 clay restored to her in a certain degree her own 
 calmer and better judgment. In a brief flash of 
 intuition perhaps both had a glimpse, as it were, into 
 the crimes to which weak and struggling souls are 
 driven by the pressure of circumstances not unlike 
 their own. 
 
 " He is still young," said Mrs. Varemberg. " Per- 
 haps he will yet live to reform and become a useful 
 and honorable member of society. And, dear Paul, 
 life is too short for us both not to be in the right." 
 
 " Give me, then, what words of comfort you can," 
 said Barclay, gloomily resigned, " for my exile ; for I 
 am going." 
 
 "Dear Paul " she began, hesitatingly. 
 
 "I have asked you for a promise," he broke in 
 again. " Let us agree that we will be true to each 
 other as long as we live, and that you will be mine if 
 it ever be possible." 
 
 " How can I resist your entrancing words ? How 
 can I really refuse anything you ask me ? Yes, I will 
 promise ; I will be yours, with what joy and hap- 
 piness ! if I am ever free, if Heaven ever permits 
 it to be so." 
 
 Barclay held her for a brief instant more in his 
 arms, as if he would, somehow, by this last embrace 
 have protected her from the hardship of her destiny. 
 Then he went quickly out at the door, looking
 
 252 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 neither to the right nor the left. In the hall was 
 David Lane, who had just come down the stairs, and 
 who cast at him a glance of keen and singular sus- 
 picion. 
 
 liarclay hurried away, without a word, to his own 
 abode in the grassy square under the regis of the 
 Golden Justice. He had already said his farewells 
 to the good Thornhrooks, who expressed a genuine 
 sorrow at having him leave the place. By daylight 
 of the next morning he was on board the train, and 
 had ostensibly taken his last look on Keewaydin. 
 He was to pay a brief visit to the colony established 
 on his lands in Marathon County ; he meant to go 
 round the city, on his return, and proceed to the 
 East by another way. 
 
 David Lane seemed either to have witnessed or 
 divined something of their manner of parting just de- 
 scribed. He entered the drawing-room, with a stern- 
 ly resentful air, and stood above the form of his 
 daughter, who had thrown herself down, overcome 
 with grief, in a corner of the sofa. Her eyes were 
 red with weeping, but when she caught the gaze of 
 her father she showed no trace of embarrassment ; 
 her look was even more stern and resentful than his 
 own. 
 
 " Is this man your lover ? " demanded David Lane. 
 " Yes," she answered simply. 
 
 " You tell me this in your sober senses, and you 
 suffer him to embrace you ? " 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Do you mean to drag our name in the mire of 
 disgrace ? "
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 253 
 
 The irony of the question smote upon him even 
 as he asked it. Well indeed did it become him to 
 frame reproaches on the subject of the family honor, 
 he who had done so much to preserve it ! 
 
 "We love each other," she answered, smiling 
 proudly, " but do not fear that I shall disgrace our 
 name. It is only now for the first time that he has 
 .spoken to me, and he is going away ; I shall proba- 
 bly never see him again. I do not know why I 
 should hold to any scruples for your sake, since you 
 have had so few where my happiness was con- 
 cerned," she went on ; " but do not be alarmed, for 
 I repeat, I shall do our name no discredit." 
 
 " What am I to understand from these words ? " 
 David Lane queried, trembling. It was evident that 
 the exalted principles of his daughter had to some 
 extent failed in the ordeal ; that an explanation 
 always to have been dreaded had at last taken 
 place between these two. But to what extent had 
 it gone ? What had it involved ? 
 
 " It was you who wrecked my life, you who 
 ought to have been strong and wise for me. Why 
 did you do it ? Why did you conceal from me the 
 offer of marriage this man had made ? " 
 
 " Would it have made a difference ? " he demanded 
 eagerly. " Would you have married him ? " 
 
 " I am sure I loved him even then. If you had 
 told me, we should both have been happy." 
 
 Her father could give her no valid reasons for his 
 conduct ; he could by no means allege the real one, 
 so he took refuge in tergiversation. " Much that
 
 _C4 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 happened in those times is now vague to me," he 
 said. " I was full of anxieties and cares in other 
 ways. I suppose I could not have attached the real 
 importance to it. I had long thought of you as one 
 who knew your own mind ; and if Barclay had not 
 made his feelings clear to you, it did not seem as if 
 any formal statement by me could have much effect. 
 Surely I was mistaken. I meant to act for the best." 
 
 He followed his strenuous disclaimers of wrong 
 intent with warm protestations of fatherly affection 
 which came from a full and agonized heart. Like 
 Jephthah, he had sacrificed his daughter. Like Jeph- 
 thah, he might have said, " Alas, my daughter ! thou 
 hast deceived me and art thyself deceived." 
 
 Mrs. Varemberg now gave way to convulsive weep- 
 ing, in which her resentment disappeared. Only an 
 overburdening sense of the sadness of her lot re- 
 mained. She went broken from the room, her father 
 conducting her to the door, and pressing a kiss upon 
 her cold forehead. 
 
 David Lane was prepared for a renewal of her 
 petition for divorce. He did not know how he could 
 now resist it. With some wretched design, perhaps, 
 of being beforehand with her in it, when he next saw 
 her, he introduced the subject himself. He was all 
 but completely broken at this time, and ready to 
 accede to anything she might propose. But, curi- 
 ously enough, it was now she herself who stood firm. 
 
 " No," she said, in opposition ; " what is not justi- 
 fied by natural right and justice cannot be justified 
 by my poor human weakness."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 255 
 
 Her father was proud of her spirit and high stand- 
 ard of conduct, which made him but the more re- 
 morseful and compassionate of her pains. But would 
 she always remain as firm on this point ? A radical 
 change in her situation almost immediately occurred, 
 and put this question forever aside. Barclay had 
 been gone but a single day, when the mail brought 
 Mrs. Varemberg a letter in a familiar handwriting. 
 She found it beside her plate at the breakfast table. 
 It was post-marked San Francisco. She turned pale 
 at sight of it, and did not dare to open it in person, 
 but passed it on to her father, and listened to hear 
 what he should tell her of its contents. 
 
 " My poor child ! " he said, glancing sympatheti- 
 cally across at her, and began to read. The letter 
 was substantially as follows : 
 
 " I find myself rather unexpectedly in your part 
 of the world. It is not so near, it is true, and yet 
 not so far away, either. I have lately arrived here 
 from the Sandwich Islands. The climate there did 
 not suit me, and there were various disagreeable ad- 
 ventures But all that is a long story, like a good 
 deal more that is behind me, and of which you will, 
 no doubt, be glad to hear in due time. Finding my- 
 self thus favored in my whereabouts, the idea occurs 
 to me of dropping down upon you, by way of a little 
 surprise. It will interest me to see the pleasant re- 
 tirement to which you betook yourself from Bel- 
 gium, without the formality of asking my permis- 
 sion, be it remembered. This note is by way of 
 announcement that I shall set out immediately by
 
 256 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 rail, and I trust that you will be ready, on my ar- 
 rival, with some pleasant proposition for settling our 
 late small differences, and again establishing for 
 ourselves the customary domestic hearth. Naturally, 
 you are still my wife ; I have not relinquished any 
 claim to you. I tire of living this Bohemian life ; 
 it has many discomforts ; and I have no doubt that 
 you will be glad to join with me in the plan of mak- 
 ing of ourselves once more a comfortable pair of 
 bons bourgeois. I am sure these domestic tastes will 
 commend themselves to your most respectable father, 
 to whom please convey the assurance of my high 
 consideration, and he will lend us a trifle of pe- 
 cuniary aid to carry them into effect." 
 
 The letter was signed by Varemberg. 
 
 " It is infamous ! " said the reader of it, in hot 
 indignation. " He dares to threaten us ? He will 
 come this way ? But do not fear him, Florence. He 
 shall rue the day ; he shall have a warm reception 
 awaiting him." 
 
 But his words fell upon unconscious ears ; she 
 who should have beard them had fallen into a piti- 
 able swoon, and Mrs. Clinton and the maid were 
 actively applying restoratives. 
 
 Nor was this the last of the malign intruder from 
 a past life. On the contrary, it was but the begin- 
 ning of a speedy end. The same night, a loud ring- 
 ing aroused the house some time after it had retired 
 to slumber. A telegraphic despatch was brought in 
 and handed up to David Lane, who came to the top 
 of the stairs to receive it. The servants felt sure
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 257 
 
 that the master of the house had received bad news. 
 He read his despatch with but a sombre visage, turned 
 towards Mrs. Varemberg's apartments, turned away 
 again, then turned back once more, and went heavily 
 and knocked at his daughter's door. 
 
 A friend and neighbor, from Keewaydin, had in- 
 formed him further of a fatal railroad accident, al- 
 ready briefly mentioned in the afternoon papers. An 
 Eastern-bound overland train had been precipitated 
 down a lofty embankment near Omaha, through the 
 snapping of a rail in the severe cold, and several 
 lives had been lost. Among the dead the sender of 
 the despatch had recognized the son-in-law of David 
 Lane, having known him slightly abroad, and had 
 fully identified him by means of papers found on the 
 body. 
 
 Thus the tragic incubus was removed. Varemberg 
 was no more, and his widow was free, to live, to mar- 
 ry, as she pleased. 
 
 Saved as she was from the very spring of the tiger, 
 Mrs. Varemberg was yet afflicted by a certain re- 
 morse, as if she were somehow responsible for this 
 dreadful taking-off of the ill-fated partner who had 
 been her nightmare and her bane. She had allowed 
 her thoughts to dwell, though never so remotely, on 
 this consummation, and it was as if her wish had 
 been forged into a weapon with which the deed was 
 done. Broken by so many shocks, she succumbed to 
 an acute illness. During its continuance she was by 
 no means in a condition to communicate with Barclay,
 
 258 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 had she so desired. Added to this, it would have 
 been extremely difficult for any one to say, in this 
 his first impetuous plunge away from all the inter- 
 ests by which he had so long been bound, where he 
 was.
 
 XII. 
 
 THE " PEOPLE'S CANDIDATE." 
 
 PAUL BARCLAY had formed no definite programme 
 for his flight or his future. In seeking first the re- 
 mote colony on his wild lands in the upper part of 
 the State, he but obeyed the instinct that so often 
 drives the unhappy to the refuge of solitude and na- 
 ture. 
 
 His colony now presented to view a number of log 
 houses and a considerable space of cleared land. The 
 shriek of a portable saw-mill rose upon the ear, to- 
 gether with the dull thud of fthe woodman's axe ; and 
 the stumps of the felled pine-trees, scattered numer- 
 ously in and about the new settlement, showed 
 through the snow which still lay deep on the 
 ground in this northerly latitude like a species of 
 envious fangs, snarling at the growth of this humble 
 little Carthage. 
 
 Barclay remained at this lonely spot nearly a fort- 
 night. In his fierce need of action and change, he 
 took the axe into his own hands, and smote ringing 
 strokes upon the great trees. Again, with his gun, 
 he followed large wild game through the forest long 
 days together, till, at night, he was ready to drop 
 with fatigue, and was incapable of thought. 
 
 The sociable agent of the colony tried his best to
 
 260 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 entertain him, but his resources were few. He 
 brought home some newspapers, from long rides he 
 took to the nearest hamlet, and read out bits of these 
 in the evening. Politics were beginning to be inter- 
 esting. The municipal caldron at Keewaydin was 
 bubbling actively, and nominations for mayor were 
 in order. Barclay had little concern with all these 
 things. But, among the rest, as they sat around the 
 stove one evening, in the rude main cabin, just be- 
 fore their usual primitive hour for bed, the agent hit 
 upon a bit about the railway accident and the fate of 
 Varemberg. 
 
 " Tough times for travelers, these days," said he, 
 " the cold spells snappin' the rails so. I see that for- 
 eign son-in-law of David Lane's is dead ; killed out 
 Omaha way." 
 
 Then, indeed, his listener paid attention. He 
 bounded to his feet, and seized the paper with his own 
 hands. Yes, it was so. Varemberg was dead ! She 
 was free ! But the date of the paper was almost ten 
 days back. Why had he not heard from her? Why 
 had she not sent to him in all this time? How could 
 she ? Had he not purposely buried himself in these 
 inaccessible wilds ? 
 
 Night though it was, the best horse of the camp 
 was got out, and he had himself driven off on the 
 instant. He made a railway connection at daybreak, 
 and by night of the next day was again in Keeway- 
 din. 
 
 The dress of Mrs. Varemberg confirmed the truth 
 of the news he had heard. She was in mourning of
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 261 
 
 the lighter sort, following in a purely formal way the 
 conventional customs made and provided. She had 
 recovered from her illness, but was still weighed upon 
 by the effects of it and the experiences she had passed 
 through. She was grave, undemonstrative, not like 
 her former self. She gave the full details of the 
 catastrophe. She said her father had been in person 
 to Omaha, found the remains of her husband, given 
 them decent burial, forwarded his papers to his sur- 
 viving relatives in Europe, and offered, by <;able, to 
 hold himself at their disposition for any further 
 orders. All was absolutely over wellnigh a week 
 before. 
 
 " And now ! now ! now ! " exclaimed Barclay joy- 
 ously, when he thought he had listened to sufficient 
 on this subject. 
 
 His reference to their last meeting and all that it 
 implied was unmistakable, but Mrs. Varemberg did 
 not yet respond to his ardor. She had fallen, in fact, 
 into a pensive and morbid condition, in which she 
 thought the planning of any attractive manner of life 
 for herself henceforth all but criminal. 
 
 " You did not send for me ? You did not wish to 
 have me with you at once ? " said her lover, in re- 
 proachful questioning. 
 
 " I did not know where you were. I knew that 
 you would hear." 
 
 " You have changed. What is this ? I do not un- 
 derstand you." 
 
 " I cannot pretend to feel any sorrow for him, 
 that would be too much, but his dreadful fate
 
 262 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 shocked me so that it seemed to leave no place for 
 other and softer feelings. It seems as if 1 had done 
 it. Oh," she broke out, " after all that has happened, 
 with such memories behind us, is it not too late? 
 Can there be any happy future possible to one so 
 wretched as I ? No, no, let us abandon the thought 
 of it." 
 
 Barclay hastened to combat these gloomy views 
 with all his might. "The future is wholly ours; 
 with it we will redeem the past," he protested, vigor- 
 ously. " Oh, think of all we may yet do ! " 
 
 " Think of all we must both remember ! " 
 
 " In the olden times," he argued, " beautiful tem- 
 ples were thrown down, and their fragments incor- 
 porated into other buildings. We have a record of 
 one mediaeval cathedral built upon a foundation en- 
 tirely of lovely broken statues. From such a seed, 
 as it were, could hardly fail to spring perfections of a 
 new order. Let us try to regard our lives hereafter 
 as something like that, but the more valuable and the 
 sweeter for the weird hopes, the lost illusions, that 
 underlie them." 
 
 The warmth of his convictions gradually impressed 
 itself upon her, and kindled her own anew. 
 
 " Our union must not be delayed beyond the ear- 
 liest feasible moment," he urged. " We must con- 
 cede only the most imperative delays. We have so 
 little time now in which to be happy, and we must 
 not lose a moment of it." 
 
 The two arrived at a complete understanding, and 
 then they wished to have the consent of David Lane
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 263 
 
 to their formal engagement. It was not necessarily 
 to be made public till a decorous period of mourning 
 had passed. Mrs. Varemberg was willing to make 
 this concession to what popular opinion was assumed 
 to be, though she had in very truth been widowed 
 several years ; but on all other accounts, the peace of 
 mind of both, the comfort of Barclay in his footing 
 in the house, it was desirable that in the eyes of 
 David Lane they should be finally and once for all 
 betrothed. As soon as was convenient and seemly, 
 therefore, they presented themselves before him for 
 that purpose. 
 
 That unhappy man had expected such a visit from 
 the moment of the arrival of the telegram acquaint- 
 ing him with Varemberg's fate ; he was alive to its 
 importance, and in a measure prepared to meet it. 
 Though driven so near to the wall, he proposed to 
 resist his perverse fate to the last. Even now, could 
 he see this couple united ? Nothing had changed in 
 the main situation, his motive power for so many 
 years. Was it not for their own sakes he had op- 
 posed and must still oppose them ? His horror of 
 their union rested upon the dread that his confession 
 must one day come down from the Golden Justice, 
 and ruin them all. Could any one have assured him 
 of the folly of this foreboding, they might have mar- 
 ried and welcome, the sooner the better, for it had 
 often wrung his heart to see them suffer. But who 
 could assure him of this ? The thought was his con- 
 stant companion, the source of his never-ending men- 
 tal turmoil. He met the applicants, therefore, with a 
 grave front of firm denial.
 
 264 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 "Do you think I will let my daughter go?" he 
 said, in the course of talk, turning directly towards 
 Barclay. " Do you ask me to give up my only real 
 companion, the mainstay of my declining years ? " 
 
 " But we need not go, papa," appealed his daugh- 
 ter, answering in person. " "We will both stay with 
 you, if you desire it. You will only have two chil- 
 dren instead of one." 
 
 The pair were astonished, discomfited, at a refusal 
 they had had no reason to expect. The discussion 
 grew almost acrimonious. Barclay withdrew. He felt 
 that, for his own part, he could no longer continue 
 in it with dignity. Mrs. Varemberg remained, and 
 prosecuted the argument further. David Lane was 
 quibbling, evasive, and morose. Driven from one 
 position to another, he began to take on a much-bad- 
 gered, hunted sort of manner. He called the propo- 
 sition to which they had desired to obtain his consent 
 one showing unseemly, almost indecent, haste. 
 
 His daughter, looking at him, wondering, with her 
 large, grave eyes, demanded, 
 
 " Tell me your real reasons for opposing us ! " 
 
 But he was still elusive. " I am not convinced that 
 you really love him," he said. " Most likely it is 
 only a matter of passing association and habit. You 
 have injudiciously allowed him to come here too 
 much ; you have seen no one else. But now that you 
 are going out into the world again, you will meet with 
 others ; you will find some one " 
 
 His listener stopped him short, indignant, and 
 keenly hurt that the sincerity of her love could be 
 questioned.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 265 
 
 " I love him devotedly," she said ; " he has every 
 quality to win the admiration and esteem of a woman. 
 After all that I have told you, do not still try to treat 
 me like a child. If I do not marry him, I shall never 
 marry at all." * 
 
 " Well, then, I see my way clearly. I cannot con- 
 sent," he answered doggedly, as if returning his ulti- 
 matum. " All this is for your own good, if you did 
 but know it." 
 
 " Then we must act without your consent. We are 
 of an age to regulate our own affairs." 
 
 " Florence ! " he appealed, pathetically. 
 
 " Give me some reasons for this most extraordinary 
 conduct. I am willing to hear and overcome them 
 all." 
 
 " Let me think. Give me time to think," he re- 
 joined. " We will return to this subject again." 
 
 He dashed his hand across his forehead in a dis- 
 tracted way, and left the house. 
 
 No sooner was he without than he directed his 
 steps in search of Ives Wilson, and found the editor 
 at the latter's office in the building of the Morning 
 Index. 
 
 " I wish to be mayor," said Lane, entering ab- 
 ruptly, and broaching the subject with hardly more 
 ado. 
 
 The editor of the Index was proof against many 
 surprises, but this was beyond him. A proposition so 
 considerably outside of his usual category took away 
 his breath. 
 
 " The place has already been promised to DeBow;
 
 266 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 he is as good as elected," he urged, deprecatingly, in 
 order to gain time to collect his scattered ideas. 
 
 " I wish to be mayor," repeated his patron and 
 benefactor. " Let us understand that positively, 
 that is settled ; let us talk only of how it is to be 
 done." 
 
 " We might sow discord in the nominating conven- 
 tions, I suppose, and organize a bolt," said the editor, 
 with the air of bending his whole mind to the prob- 
 lem, since to dismiss it was impossible. " I have it," 
 he added, presently. " What do you say to a Peo- 
 ple's Candidate ? " 
 
 " A ' People's Candidate ' ? " 
 
 " Yes ; we can thunder against the ' rings,' corrup- 
 tion in municipal affairs, and the like. We can call 
 for a cleaning out of the Augean stables, and the 
 uniting of all good citizens, without distinction of 
 party, upon a reform nominee, a citizen of high char- 
 acter, like yourself. We might make it appear that 
 the movement had been a long time maturing." 
 
 " Good ! " assented David Lane. " Let it be that 
 or whatever else you like, so that the object is surely 
 accomplished." 
 
 He attended but little to the vein of cynical humor 
 in which the other outlined his plan. 
 
 '* Expenses, no doubt, will be heavier than usual, 
 but you shall have an ample margin. Do not hold 
 back from anything that may be necessary, on that 
 account." 
 
 " It is gratifying to see you again in the political 
 field." said Ives Wilson, " but I confess I don't quite
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 267 
 
 understand it on the instant. At one time, we used 
 to beg and implore you to take much more important 
 offices than this, and you would not do it ; and now, 
 after 'all the high honors you have held, you seek a 
 smaller one of your own accord." 
 
 " I am tired of rusting out in idleness. I want 
 occupation." 
 
 This was all the explanation ever vouchsafed ; and 
 it really mattered very little to this adviser what the 
 true reason was, since it was made to his advantage. 
 But had he guessed for a thousand years he would 
 never have hit upon it. He would never have di- 
 vined the wild, extraordinary resource that remained 
 to David Lane, in taking the office of mayor, a re- 
 source which he was at last driven to use by the sight 
 of his daughter's distress and the sound of her re- 
 proaches in his ears. 
 
 There had always been a bare possibility that the 
 confession might be recovered from the Golden Jus- 
 tice, and David Lane had sometimes revolved it 
 dimly, with other vagrant thoughts on the subject. 
 But by what agency could it be done? It was a 
 mission too delicate to entrust to the most confiden- 
 tial employee in the world. To so entrust it would 
 be but to subject one's self to blackmail, with the 
 certainty of the ultimate disclosure of the secret be- 
 sides. No, none but himself must touch the paper. 
 If he could pass a night in the building, he might, 
 under cover of darkness, climb to the dome, and, 
 with good fortune, effect an opening into the statue 
 and possess himself of the confession. Now, he could
 
 268 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 not conceal himself in the edifice, nor could he ask 
 permission to remain. He must have the right to 
 stay unquestioned. But who had the right to stay? 
 In the first place, the janitor, an honest German. An- 
 ton Klopp, who had long held this post. Next, the 
 city officers, mayor, comptroller, city clerk, and 
 the like. The only one of these positions he could 
 allow himself to seek and fill without too strong ec- 
 centricity and suspicion was that of mayor. 
 
 "We have seen that he had taken steps to be made 
 once more mayor of Keewaydin. "Would he, then, 
 with all his honors, his years, and infirmities heavy 
 upon him, attempt in person so wild and hazardous 
 an undertaking as that hinted at ? "With his hands 
 by his sides he had felt the muscles of his legs, as he 
 came along to the interview with the editor, tested 
 them again by long strides, and nerved himself for 
 the feat with Spartan determination. 
 
 There was no time to lose. Ives Wilson, a Mach- 
 .iavellian wire-puller of great vigor, initiated the cam- 
 paign forthwith. The Index began at once to con- 
 tain letters, written in the office, be it understood, 
 signed " Many Tax-Payers," " Many Citizens," 
 " Veritas," and " Justitia," demanding that the Au- 
 gean stables be cleaned out and the era of corruption 
 be brought to its close; that the party slates be 
 broken, and a man of conspicuous probity be placed 
 in the field. A People's Candidate was called for, 
 and the name of David Lane suggested. The editor 
 
 affected to think it no more than fair to give these 
 
 > 
 indications of popular ferment the courtesy of print.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 269 
 
 The clamor in the office of the Index in- 
 creased, till it seemed impossible to resist. Then the 
 paper took the air of putting itself formally at its 
 head. Ives Wilson now privately convened a little 
 knot of skillful persons, with whom he had been 
 much in the habit of working in matters of this de- 
 scription ; these communicated the impetus to a 
 larger coterie, and this to others in turn, so that pres- 
 ently the ward primaries were feeling the influence 
 profoundly. The " slate " was not broken, in the 
 convention of the principal party, as had been pro- 
 posed ; the new movement had begun too late to be 
 able to capture the nomination from DeBow ; but 
 David Lane's followers organized a bolt. They went 
 to the weaker political faction, which, being already 
 prepared for defeat any way, was found only too 
 glad to strike hands with the bolters, and make Lane 
 the nominee of both, on a fusion ticket. 
 
 Some of his old associates came to him regret- 
 fully, and urged him not to allow himself to be used 
 as an instrument for disrupting the party with which 
 they had together so long been identified. But they 
 little knew how slight a matter party fealty had now 
 become to him they addressed, under the stimulus of 
 his new motives. 
 
 " I have put myself in the hands of my friends," 
 he responded, with artful dissimulation. " I should 
 not now consider it fair to them to withdraw, with- 
 out their express command." 
 
 When all this was settled, he returned to the mo- 
 mentous subject which had come up between him 
 and his daughter.
 
 270 TllE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " I am tired of rusting in idleness," he said. " If 
 there is a possibility of losing you, I must have new 
 occupations. I am going to run for mayor. Let the 
 matter of which you have spoken to me stand till 
 that is over." 
 
 "But I cannot see the slightest connection be- 
 tween the two." 
 
 " Leave it to me. You will find me reasonable. 
 Success brings good temper," he rejoined ; and when 
 she still urged her point, he added, positively, "I 
 will not decide till the election is over." 
 
 Still, this was something tangible to tell. The 
 period of delay would not be long. Mrs. Varemberg 
 reported it to her impatient lover, and they were fain 
 to wait, possessing their souls in comparative pa- 
 tience. 
 
 A large store that happened to be vacant in Tel- 
 son's Block, on the principal thoroughfare, was taken 
 for David Lane's headquarters, and a canvas banner, 
 with the usual atrocious portrait of the candidate, 
 was hung across the street, in front of it. From this 
 nucleus a great activity was organized. Printed cir- 
 culars and free editions of the Index were mailed in 
 profusion. There were kept in stock the flaming 
 yellow and pink sheet posters for the fences and 
 dead-walls. A great wagon, papered with these same 
 sheet posters, and containing a deep-toned bell, pa- 
 trolled the streets by day, distributing documents, 
 and made the campaign headquarters its rendezvous. 
 From there, also, torchlight processions were sent 
 forth at night. The managers, with hats tilted very
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 271 
 
 much backward or very much forward, as the case 
 might be, sat around a long table covered with an 
 untidy litter of papers, as was the floor, with cigar 
 stumps added, or anon received visitors confiden- 
 tially in small boxes, temporarily partitioned off with 
 pine boards, at the rear. 
 
 Here maps were spread open, and the sectional in- 
 terests of the town studied, district by district; What 
 motives might be best appealed to ? What springs 
 of tradition, habit, self-interest, local pride or preju- 
 dice, caste or nationality, might be played upon 
 as the musician plays upon his instrument to catch 
 votes ? 
 
 One ward was well to do and "aristocratic," and 
 another composed largely of small mechanics ; one 
 was German, another Polish ; one had a large free- 
 thinking element clustered around the turner-halls, 
 another was Lutheran, another Irish Catholic. 
 
 " Shall we stir up the religious question again ? " 
 demanded Ives Wilson, with a cheerful nonchalance, 
 in these consultations. On the whole, it was decided 
 to do so. " We have more to gain than lose by it," 
 he said. 
 
 Some old " Know Nothing " record, as it was 
 called, of Jim DeBow's was unearthed. He was as- 
 serted to have been hostile to immigration at an early 
 day, and to have said in public that he wished an 
 ocean of fire rolled between us and all Europe, that 
 foreigners might be kept out. He was said to have 
 made remarks a propos of a request for a subscrip- 
 tion to a church fair insulting to the religious 
 opinions of a large and worthy section of voters.
 
 272 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 In every ingenious wsty, in short, Ives Wilson ex- 
 emplified, in the Index, what he had meant by his 
 principle of hitting hard. DeBow's party, on the 
 other hand, were no novices in tactics of this kind, 
 and they returned the onslaught with interest. It 
 was made a reproach to David Lane, at one and the 
 same time, that he was a drunkard, hecause he had 
 wine on his table, and a " temperance fanatic," inas- 
 much as he had at one time signed a request for 
 some sort of limited restriction of the number of sa- 
 loons and the demoralizing sale of liquor. For his 
 injury with the proletariat, he was shown to be a 
 monopolist ; was charged, since his residence abroad, 
 with foreign ideas, and with entertaining aggrandiz- 
 ing designs against the liberties of the place which 
 could scarcely have been carried out by any other 
 than a Russian despot, at the head of all his legions. 
 
 In this campaign, too, the early marriage of James 
 DeBow below his station was, oddly enough, sought 
 to be turned to account. It was suggested in some 
 artful, demagogical way that this marriage had been 
 deliberately contracted with the express desire of al- 
 lying himself the more thoroughly with the great, 
 warm democratic heart of the people. 
 
 So the fray raged ; sophistries, criminations, and 
 recriminations filled the air, and the preliminary pa- 
 pers in numerous libel suits were served. 
 
 The managers no doubt laughed in their sleeves, 
 like the augurs of old, at the credulity they utilized, 
 the passions they fomented ; while the masses, poor 
 souls, wrangled, fought, and vituperated, sowing seeds
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 273 
 
 of bitterness that would not be extirpated till a bet- 
 ter education should show their descendants the flim- 
 siuess of the means by which they had been duped. 
 The Golden Justice for she was at the bottom 
 of all this, like Bellona, the goddess of discord, in- 
 stead of the symbol of rectitude and peace be- 
 came once more the cause of a violent municipal 
 upheaval. The stir extended afar, to the august 
 Senate at Washington, and might even alter the des- 
 tinies of the nation ; for it so happened that if Ross- 
 more whose election depended upon that of James 
 DeBow were not returned, the balance of power 
 in the Senate would be changed, and the complexion 
 of several measures of leading importance altered. 
 
 Paul Barclay, having such a vital issue depending 
 upon it, was naturally very keenly alive to Lane's 
 success in the contest. He now confronted political 
 life, for the first time, in a personal way and at close 
 quarters. As a student of republican institutions, he 
 saw much to shock the fastidious and make the judi- 
 cious grieve. During the campaign he continued to 
 see Mrs. Varemberg more or less frequently, but al- 
 ways under the shadow of the restraint and opposi- 
 tion that hampered them. His visits galled David 
 Lane. Perhaps they even goaded him on, with the 
 view of insuring absolute success in his project, to 
 measures to which he might not otherwise have been 
 driven. Ives Wilson aimed to lose no point that in- 
 defatigable effort could secure him ; but perhaps it is 
 only fair to suppose that the candidate did not know 
 all that was done in his name.
 
 274 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 David Lane's uame headed a call to the Hon. Franz 
 Hofnagel, of Minnesota, to fix a day when he would 
 deliver his famous address on the German Father- 
 land, and another asking the eloquent Father Finne- 
 gan for his oration on Hibernian Saints and Heroes. 
 Subscriptions were made to worthy objects, goods not 
 at all needed were bought of deserving tradesmen, 
 and small sums of money were loaned, or otherwise 
 judiciously placed, where they would do the most 
 good. 
 
 Barclay had set the considerable force of men re- 
 maining under his orders, by way of keeping them 
 in occupation, to clearing up the debris at Barclay's 
 Island, and otherwise putting it to rights. It began 
 to look as though the burned factory might yet be re- 
 placed by a new and more imposing one. Ives Wil- 
 son took occasion to apprise him, one day, that a 
 number of these men, unless prevented, were going 
 to vote for Jim DeBow, with whose party all their 
 affiliations lay. 
 
 " What are you going to do about it ? " Wilson 
 asked. 
 
 " I had not thought of doing anything. What do 
 you advise ? " 
 
 " I would have a special run of work on election 
 day for that particular class of men. I would ask 
 them to stay home from voting and help me out. 
 They could do that much, any way ; it 's a mighty 
 poor hand that won't help his employer over a tight 
 pinch now and then. If there were any that did n't 
 want to do it, I 'd let it get gently insinuated into
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 275 
 
 their minds, somehow, that their services would be 
 dispensed with altogether at the earliest opportunity." 
 
 There was an element of the amusing in this, as in 
 most else that Ives Wilson did. He passed in such 
 a light, airy, birdlike way over all things, both good 
 and evil, that it was difficult to attribute iniquity to 
 him, even when most perverse ; it was almost as if he 
 belonged to some different and less responsible order 
 of beings. 
 
 " But see here, Wilson," said Barclay, " there 's an 
 original bent of mental and moral obliquity about you 
 that I have often noticed, and I won't say that it is 
 not at times quite entertaining; but, once for all, 
 leave me out of your crooked propositions. I 've had 
 enough of them. You 've favored me with a good 
 deal too much of them, in fact." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Wilson, slightly sobered. 
 
 " Do you want to know what my individual opin- 
 ion about these matters is ? " 
 
 " Certainly, my dear fellow, certainly." 
 
 " Well, it is this : considering that the suffrage is 
 the only safeguard of the society in which we live, 
 and that without it no redress of the most heinous 
 evils is possible, those who tamper with it are the 
 greatest rascals in the entire category, and their of- 
 fense ought to be visited with the severest penalties 
 known to the law, which ought, indeed, to enact 
 new ones for their especial benefit." 
 
 " But, see here," said the editor, in his turn, " I 
 thought you were on David Lane's side in this mat- 
 ter."
 
 270 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 "I am." and he half muttered to himself, thinking 
 of the white arras that awaited him, as the prize of 
 victory. " You would hardly doubt it if you knew 
 what I had at stake." He went on, " But my men 
 are going to vote as they please, for all that." 
 
 " My dear boy," Wilson concluded, reserving his 
 imperturbable good - nature, " my dear boy, of 
 course one would not do anything off-color, to aid 
 what he positively knew to be wrong ; but where 
 the cause is a good one. like this, where it 's a cause 
 that ought to prevail any way, why, that makes it a 
 very different thing, don't yon see ? ' Use all the 
 weapons at your hand ! Fight the devil with fire ! ' 
 say I. Besides, voters, like readers, ought to be in- 
 fluenced : they expect it ; they require it ; they don't 
 understand anything else." 
 
 Ives "Wilson thought so well of this episode that he 
 took occasion to report it to his principal, David Lane, 
 setting it forth as the fantastic notions of a novice in 
 politics, and "one of the humors of the campaign." 
 
 The voters referred to were saved to David Lane, 
 however, by a different means. All at once a com- 
 mittee, very rough and ready in appearance, com- 
 prising the sardonic Hoolan among its numbers, waited 
 upon Barclay, and tendered him a nomination for al- 
 derman. The regular nominee for the district had 
 been discovered at the last moment to be ineligible 
 by reason of having neglected to take out his full 
 naturalization papers. A semi-official meeting had 
 been held, largely influenced, it afterwards appeared, 
 by Barclay's own workingmen ; his name had been
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE, 277 
 
 broached in this meeting, and acclaimed with enthu- 
 siasm, and a duly appointed committee came to offer 
 him the candidacy. Barclay was astonished at the 
 unexpected honor. He wavered, deliberated, took 
 time for his answer. He found himself brought face 
 to face with the first step in what might be the en- 
 lightened political career of which he had once 
 thought. A position as alderman must certainly 
 give him experience of an intimate practical sort, 
 that would prove useful as he went farther on. 
 There could be little doubt, too, that he could find 
 useful measures enough with which to occupy himself 
 during his actual term of service, if he should stay ; 
 and if he should not stay, well, one can always 
 resign. It gave him a sort of modest thrill that the 
 office still an honorable one in a community not 
 yet greatly corrupted had sought him without the 
 slightest intimation on his part that he had desired 
 political preferment. On the expiration of the hour 
 he had reserved to make his decision, he returned 
 his acknowledgments to the honest committee, de- 
 clared himself greatly flattered at this manifestation 
 of their favor, and accepted their nomination. Once 
 " the young boss," as they called him, was in the field, 
 his men identified themselves warmly with his whole 
 campaign, and no solicitation was needed to obtain 
 their support for any interests he was known to 
 favor. 
 
 As soon as he was put in nomination, he began to 
 be besieged, in the usual way, by that horde of good- 
 for-nothings, political " strikers " of one sort and an-
 
 278 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 other, who seek their profit from aspirants for office. 
 Keepers of small saloons desired funds, as they said, 
 to distribute among their respective clienteles. A 
 foreign-looking man, calling himself a professor of 
 music, declared himself possessed of such potent in- 
 fluence among his fellow-countrymen that he had but 
 to hand them a certain ticket to have it voted with- 
 out question. He was willing, for a consideration, to 
 hand them the tickets of Barclay. Some members of 
 the Twilight Social Club asserted that the club meant 
 to vote " the right ticket " in any event, but were 
 certain it could not be brought out to anything like 
 a full strength without funds. Two separate individ- 
 uals, each on his own account, offered to dicker for 
 the entire vote of a populous mechanics' boarding- 
 house. A hand-to-hand conflict wellnigh arose be- 
 tween the two men, who had inadvertently happened 
 in at the same time. The right to dispose of their 
 pretended merchandise was first claimed by a small, 
 puny man, whose name, it appeared, was 7%-omas 
 Madigan, and who was the keeper in person of the 
 boarding-house. But this claim was fiercely contested 
 by a burly, unshaven Dennis Tully, who was, or had 
 been, an assistant of his. 
 
 "It's me as the place belongs to. Who else but 
 me cud put them boys to work ? " protested Madigan, 
 plaintively. " Who else but me wud have the \nflu- 
 ence ? " 
 
 "He's a greenhorn, so he is," explained Tully 
 contemptuously. " It was me learned him the board- 
 in'-house business. Nobody can put them boys to 
 work but me."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 279 
 
 But Barclay sent all these to the right-about, and 
 they departed, breathing threatenings and slaughter. 
 They were to use the influence he had refused to his 
 total ruin, but, after all, they did him no great harm. 
 Some repaired with their grumbling to campaign head- 
 quarters, where perhaps they met with a certain sol- 
 ace from Ives Wilson, who was universally affable at 
 this time. 
 
 The final act of the campaign was a " grand cen- 
 tral rally " at the Exposition Building. At this meet- 
 ing, Barclay was given a seat among the important 
 guests on the platform, and he found his name en- 
 tered as one of the long list of vice-presidents. 
 
 An orator, introduced as " a business man," first 
 demanded, " What is leather worth ? What is lum- 
 ber worth ? What are any commodities worth, in 
 times like these ? The rascals," he said, " have stolen 
 us poor. The mills and workshops must be reopened, 
 the wheels of industry must once more go round." 
 
 Next an ex-postmaster, who had a certain ready- 
 made trick of enthusiasm in his oratory, declared that 
 he had just risen from a sick-bed, to be present at 
 this meeting. " My heart was in the cause," he said, 
 " and no mortal power could have kept me away. 
 Hot words of burning indignation rise unbidden to 
 my lips, as I think of the issues of this hour. This is 
 no ordinary crisis, no small or mean occasion. We 
 are here, in our might, to grapple the entrenched 
 forces of corruption in a last, desperate, life-and-death 
 struggle. Nor are we alone in this contest : other 
 eyes are turned to us from afar ; other hearts will
 
 280 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 take courage from us to shake off the chains of their 
 bondage, or, should we be so recreant to ourselves as 
 to fail, will sink down into the night of Plutonian 
 darkness." 
 
 The speaker indulged in gurglings, whisperings, 
 bellowings, and lachrymose breakings of the voice, in 
 prodigious risings on the toes and heels and bendings 
 of the knees, and in poundings of an emphatic fist. 
 The audience cheered, howled, and cut into him, at 
 times, with random interruptions. 
 
 He was followed by Ives Wilson, who " reviewed 
 the situation " and " pictured the wants of the hour," 
 phrases from the press report in his paper. " Why 
 does the reckless faction of our opponents spend 
 money like water? " he demanded. 
 
 " O tempora ! O mores ! " murmured Paul Barclay 
 to himself, in his seat among the honorary vice-presi- 
 dents of the meeting. 
 
 ' Why are they making this desperate fight to re- 
 tain their grip upon the public treasury ?" Wilson 
 went on. 
 
 It happened that, when he was asking why the ene- 
 my had not, during their tenure of office, done certain 
 very rose-colored things, which he represented as de- 
 sirable, an interrupting voice cried out, " Because 
 they have n't got the brains, begod ! " 
 
 ' ; My friend says, because they have not the brains," 
 he went on, proposing to turn the distraction to ora- 
 torical account in a usual way ; " but I will show my 
 good friend that he is wrong. I deny that it is brains 
 they lack ; it is the common honesty to apply them."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 281 
 
 " Always deny a fact ! " shouted the disturber, who 
 now elbowed his way hastily to the front. 
 
 The audience, at sight of him, recognized a famil- 
 iar figure, a Tony Scoville, one of those harmless im- 
 beciles or lunatics once a man of prominence in 
 the place of which almost every locality has its 
 own specimen, who was, as it were, the municipal jes- 
 ter in ordinary to Keewaydin. His specialty of late 
 was public meetings. He was repulsed from the 
 front, but with a good deal of kindness, and genially 
 expelled from the building. Wilson, crestfallen at 
 having condescended to argue with this kind of oppo- 
 nent, presently sat down. 
 
 David Lane was naturally the central figure of the 
 rally. He sat for a considerable time, with an ab- 
 stracted air, listening to the glowing panegyrics 
 which were pronounced upon him by Wilson and 
 others. 
 
 When some fervid speaker had demanded, " Why 
 are we here ? Why do I see this vast concourse of 
 my fellow-citizens, this assemblage representing all 
 that is best and grandest in Keewaydin, drawn to- 
 gether ? " the answer, " Why, indeed ? " had echoed 
 pathetically in the dark depths of his inner conscious- 
 ness. His thoughts had lingered incessantly upon 
 his real purpose. When introduced to the audience 
 he seemed rather dazed by the crowd and hubbub. 
 His address was but brief. 
 
 " I am not a man of many words," said he. " I 
 should greatly prefer to be known to you as a man 
 of action. Nor am I a stranger among you. As an
 
 282 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 earnest of what I will try to be in the future, I can 
 only refer you to my record in the past. [This rec- 
 ord, as we know, was of the most exemplary.] I can- 
 not expect to have wholly escaped some enemies, 
 some calumniators, in my long residence here of forty 
 years, but I shall make no attempt to refute their 
 aspersions now. I am content to be judged by my 
 friends and neighbors ; I leave myself with confidence 
 in your hands." 
 
 Finally, great rounds of applause went up that 
 made the roof-tree ring. The assemblage poured out 
 into the streets, carrying their enthusiasm with them. 
 The campaign was over, and the Index characterized 
 it next day, in its most florid head-lines, as having 
 ended in " A Blaze of Glory," " A Magnificent Re- 
 form Demonstration for David Lane, the People's 
 Candidate."
 
 XIII. 
 
 THE ELECTION OF A MAYOR 
 
 ELECTION DAY, when it at last arrived, was over- 
 cast, raw, and cold. The ice in the bay, after hav- 
 ing once gone out, apparently for good, had returned 
 again, locked vessels in its embrace, and given an 
 aspect of almost Arctic desolation. The ticket-ped- 
 dlers of either side stood about the booths, stamping 
 their chilly feet for warmth. To guard against 
 dreaded imitations, they had not been served with 
 their ballots which had been carefully bunched and 
 ready, at headquarters, the night before till day- 
 break ; but even this precaution, in the sequel, did 
 not prove wholly effectual. 
 
 The opening hours were like those combats of 
 picket and skirmish lines of armies that precede a 
 general engagement. A few honest laborers, who 
 did not propose to utilize the occasion as a holiday, 
 were the first to deposit their votes, which they did 
 en route to their regular day's work. Then came a 
 lull, and then, soon after the comfortable breakfast- 
 time of the well-to-do classes, the action began in 
 earnest. 
 
 In the course of the morning, rumors of defec- 
 tions, betrayals, treasons, stratagems, and spoils, af-
 
 284 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 feeling both sides, grew rife. Split tickets, scratched 
 tickets, and pure counterfeits rudely executed, it 
 is true, but calculated to deceive the unwary made 
 their appearance in the field. Discarded ballots 
 strewed the ground around the polling places as 
 thick as leaves at Valombrosa. Cripples and octo- 
 genarians were ferreted out, and brought to the polls 
 in hacks. Mr. Welby Goff, of the Index, proved an 
 excellent hand at this kind of service. He trium- 
 phantly secured the whole boarding-house of Madigan 
 against both rival claimants, and next aided to save 
 the votes of a large omnibus -load of Bohemians, 
 brought down by their foreman, from the Eagle File 
 Works. Some of DeBow's agents endeavored to 
 snatch away from these last, as they alighted, the 
 Lane ballots with which they were already supplied, 
 and substitute their own in place of them, crying, 
 
 " You are free men. You need n't vote any ticket 
 only the one you please." 
 
 This attempt was strenuously resisted; the Bo- 
 hemian foreman shouted to his men various strong 
 adjurations, of which conflicting accounts were after- 
 wards given. There was a spirited contest, which 
 almost came to an exchange of blows, but the vic- 
 tory remained with the Lane party, as aforesaid. 
 
 This was a halcyon day for the floating population 
 of nondescript characters who waited on street cor- 
 ners for odd jobs. The most obscure figure in the 
 community now took on a real importance, through 
 his possession of the proud gift of the suffrage. 
 Blithe agents went about with more funds in their
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 285 
 
 pockets than they needed for their own wants, and 
 showed themselves most amiably disposed to make 
 all things merry wherever they moved. Like band- 
 masters, they raised their batons for a peculiar music 
 at which all the idle and conscienceless might dance. 
 There were pocket-money and refreshments galore, 
 with but very slight service to render in return.. 
 
 It leaked out that Ludwig Trapschuh, who had 
 been extremely noisy in the meeting for the nomina- 
 tion, was among the backsliders from the Lane party. 
 What! Not that Ludwig Trapschuh of the Chip- 
 pewa Street bridge, who owed his very place to 
 David Lane, and whose niece had been so long the 
 recipient of the magnate's bounty ? It was not pos- 
 sible ! Yes, tell it not in Gath nor dwell upon 
 it too long in Askelon, so it was. The bridge- 
 tender, in his usual financial straits, and lured by a 
 liberal gratuity in ready money from the DeBowites, 
 had proved recreant. Early in the day he had en- 
 tered upon a course of dissimulation. His treachery 
 was intended at first to be only wily and foxlike, but, 
 by little and little, as the heat of the day drew on, 
 the trammels of prudence were more and more 
 thrown off, and it resembled open rebellion and de- 
 fiance. He was found to have distributed with his 
 own hands, and to be a centre of supply for, bogus 
 Lane ballots. These counterfeited a peculiar design, 
 of an axe in a bundle of fasces, adopted as a bor- 
 dering for the express purpose of protecting the 
 ticket from imitation, and also put up at the head 
 the name of James DeBow as the People's Reform
 
 286 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 Candidate, instead of that of David Lane. It was a 
 rude affair, it is true, but still sufficient to impose 
 upon the unwary. He was proved, among other 
 things, to have accosted a group of Mecklenberger 
 wood-sawyers in Market Square, and reproached 
 them, with affected surprise, for hanging about there 
 and waiting for jobs, instead of availing themselves 
 of the high privilege of citizenship on a day like this. 
 
 " How we can vote ? " their spokesman inquired 
 of him in reply. " We bin not long enough in that 
 country." 
 
 "Oh, that's all right; I make it all right, all 
 right," he had answered cheerfully. 
 
 With the aid of his hopeful son Barney and some 
 other henchmen appointed to do his bidding, he had 
 made them pass their time agreeably, and seen, in 
 the course of the day, that they voted in one pre- 
 cinct or another. They were sworn in, under the 
 forms of law, by fraudulent affidavits. 
 
 He led the half-grown boy, Nicodem Kraska, to 
 deposit a ballot, as though of full age. He endeav- 
 ored to induce one of the more active ticket-peddlers 
 for David Lane (it was through this man's fidelity 
 that his treason was first disclosed) to go home and 
 " lie down into bed," so his expression was framed, 
 offering for this service the sum of twenty dollars. 
 
 For the making of voters by affidavit, notaries- 
 public were stationed at most of the voting precincts, 
 in the interest of both sides. This was done for the 
 benefit of all those who had not been able to register 
 properly on the days appointed by law, and who
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 287 
 
 could give a valid excuse for their absence. Little 
 Notary-Public Kroeger, one of the gossips of the 
 Johannisberger House, was also a renegade to Lane's 
 cause. It had been arranged that he should play 
 into Ludwig Trapschuh's hands in all this important 
 part of the proceedings. The voters who were made 
 by him, in his ostensible work for David Lane, were 
 supplied, to a man, with DeBow tickets. 
 
 In this process, the would-be voter was required 
 to make oath that he was a lawful elector and a resi- 
 dent of the ward and precinct, and he must show 
 sufficient cause for not having presented himself be- 
 fore. This paper must then be further guaranteed 
 under oath by some person being a householder in 
 the same ward and precinct. 
 
 Trapschuh and his son Barney stretched their wide 
 acquaintance to the utmost. The obscurity of the 
 field with which they dealt, the uncouth names and 
 speech and peculiar manners and customs of the Pol- 
 ish and lower German element, which was their chief 
 constituency, promoted the success of their plans, and 
 no doubt also added an element of recklessness in car- 
 rying them out. Most of the electors thus made were 
 of so rude a character as only to be able to affix a 
 rude cross-mark to their affidavits, instead of their 
 names. 
 
 The modus operandi was afterwards shown, in evi- 
 dence, to be somewhat as follows. A group would 
 be brought iu by their purveyor, for instance, to the 
 back room of Chezef ski's saloon, at the Railroad 
 Avenue precinct, in which back room Notary Kroeger
 
 288 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 was at his work. The front room of the same estab- 
 lishment was occupied us the polling-place. 
 
 " Well, why did n't you register ? " asked the no- 
 tary, when this part was reached in its order, paus- 
 ing a moment, with pen raised in air, for the reply. 
 
 The applicant was often too stupid to allege even 
 the simplest excuse. 
 
 " Was you sick ? " prompted the notary, in a cut- 
 and-dried way. 
 
 "Yes, I was sick," returned the man, full of won- 
 der at the brilliant invention that could suggest so deft 
 a plea. 
 
 One of the Trapschuhs, or their assistants, certified 
 to this, as a householder and a resident of this, that, 
 or the other ward and precinct, as the case might be. 
 When there came an apparent hitch, and a knot of 
 unidentified persons stood irresolutely about the room, 
 needing a sponsor, at a nod from Ludwig Trapschuh 
 one Weuzel Haller, a teamster from the House of 
 Correction, stepped forward, and cried in a hearty 
 way, 
 
 " Hello ! I know all these men. They want to 
 vote for DeBow. Why don't you swear 'em in ? " 
 
 " You are a householder ? " asked Kroeger, pro- 
 ceeding expeditiously to do so. 
 
 " Yes, of course, I 'm a householder. That 's just 
 what I am, a householder, every time." 
 
 A new batch was brought in by Joe Skinsky, a 
 Polish butcher, but the teamster Haller, possibly 
 with some remote fear of consequences, now objected 
 to being utilized any further. " Let somebody else 
 know these," he said doggedly. " I done enough."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 289 
 
 " You know me, any way, Haller," said one of 
 the men confidently, pushing his way to the front, 
 prompted by Trapschuh. 
 
 " Where I seen you before ? " inquired the team- 
 ster, blinking at him in far more than doubt. 
 
 " Oh, down by the city limits," was the answer, in 
 a large way, generously covering a sufficient field. 
 
 " Well, I sign this one," consented Haller, grum- 
 bling; " but, by jinks ! that's all." 
 
 He sat down, and began once more to affix his sig- 
 nature, laboriously thrusting out his tongue in the 
 process. 
 
 "Ah a a! sign 'em up, sign 'em up! Don't 
 wait till next Christmas ! " cried Barney Trapschuh, 
 in his rowdy way. 
 
 "Sign 'em yourselluf!" exclaimed Haller, jump- 
 ing up in dudgeon, upon this, and refusing to have 
 anything more to do with his task. 
 
 This was gleefully taken, however, as a genuine 
 permit ; and on no better authorization, in fact, as 
 was shown in court, a dozen more affidavits were 
 framed and signed by the notary and others, as Hal- 
 ler's agents, all certifying that the persons respectively 
 named within were qualified electors, residents of the 
 proper ward and precinct, and had been totally inca- 
 pacitated by illness from registering. 
 
 Paul Barclay was at general headquarters several 
 times during the day. Once as he came out, in the 
 afternoon, he met Mrs. Varemberg. Her presence 
 there seemed like a breath of some rare fragrance 
 that had wafted from a higher region into the rude
 
 290 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 turmoil of this exclusive strife of men. She had just 
 pulled up at the curbstone, in her phaeton, and George 
 Woodburn a young lawyer, who was having his 
 first practice to-day in active politics had gone to 
 her, to give her what scanty news might as yet be 
 had of the fortunes of the day. Young Woodburn 
 resigned his place to Barclay, as one calculated to 
 speak with greater authority than himself, and left 
 him with her. 
 
 " I was so impatient and nervous," said the fair 
 driver, " that I could not stay in the house. I had 
 to come out and try to get some idea of how things 
 are going. My father has kept himself closely shut 
 up in his room, and has not given me a scrap of in- 
 formation/' 
 
 She had not, of late, had the common feminine atti- 
 tude of scorn towards politics, and it was a pleasure to 
 talk to her on that subject as on others. She insisted 
 on Barclay's getting into the phaeton beside her, and 
 desired an intelligent opinion on the causes making 
 for or against success. 
 
 " It is too early for anything of value," returned 
 Barclay. " There is a rumor of trouble for us in the 
 Polish quarter, which was supposed to be sound for 
 your father, without question, on account of its nat- 
 ural party affiliations. What the extent of it will be 
 it is impossible to say. The DeBowites have been 
 working there under the surface. It is even said that 
 a sermon was preached in DeBow's favor in the 
 church. It is a district where a great deal of crook- 
 edness can be covered up."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 291 
 
 They drove some little while together, looking on, 
 from a distance, at characteristic sights of the elec- 
 tion. Mrs. Varemberg's anxiety indicated the ex- 
 tent of the interest she felt to be depending, for them, 
 upon the result. Since her father was so set upon 
 the post of mayor, she thought nothing ought to be 
 neglected that could take away the pretext for op- 
 posing them further on that score. Barclay alighted 
 near the Railroad Avenue precinct. He stood a mo- 
 ment to murmur blessings after her dear figure, as she 
 drove away, and then, in accordance with a promise 
 he had made to her, plunged into the thick of the fray, 
 to see what mischief he could discover and frustrate 
 in person. It was he who, acting upon information 
 conveyed to him, finally unmasked the Trapschuhs. 
 The counterfeit Lane ballots, made as heretofore de- 
 scribed, were traced from son to father. When con- 
 fronted with his part in this knavery, the latter indig- 
 nantly denied it. He held that Barney had been 
 imposed upon, through not being, as he said, " a good- 
 educated " person. He showed how he had nothing 
 but Lane ballots, and all marked with a peculiar 
 Polish mark of his own, so that ignorant voters who 
 received them from him might be sure they were 
 voting the right ticket, even though they could not 
 read it. Johnny Maguire and another stalwart hand 
 of Barclay's, however, dexterously sprang upon him, 
 at the risk of a breach of the peace, and "in the 
 twinkling of a bed-post," as the former expressed it, 
 searched his pockets, and found them full of the 
 bogus Lane ballots, all marked in precisely the same 
 manner.
 
 292 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 This particular precinct was found given over, well- 
 nigh wholly, to the hands of the enemy. As it trans- 
 pired, the DeBowites had secured, at the beginning, 
 two of the three inspectors, and these had finally in- 
 duced their colleague of the Lane persuaskm to go 
 home on plea of illness, and leave them to fill the 
 vacancy and retain the unquestioned control of affairs. 
 This defection, though important, was but a small 
 portion of the Polish quarter, the bulk of which held 
 to David Laue. 
 
 As the lines of voters lengthened before the poll- 
 ing places towards evening, the DeBow managers 
 might have sighed, like Wellington at Waterloo, 
 " for night or Bliicher." Anything in the nature of 
 delay or obstruction of votes was to their advantage. 
 Their inspectors at the Railroad Avenue precinct 
 adopted the Fabian policy with all their art. One of 
 them put his head out of the window at noon, and 
 cried, " Hear ye ! hear ye ! the polls are closed for 
 half an hour ; " and they took this time for a com- 
 fortable luncheon, while the electors waited. On two 
 separate occasions, later, a head was again put out, 
 a voice called, " Hear ye ! hear ye ! " and the polls 
 were closed a considerable time, while they listened 
 to confused wrangling of the friends of some men 
 unable to show their full citizen papers, whom they 
 admitted by a back door. Once, Skinsky, the 
 butcher, came out rubbing his hands, and gleefully 
 announced, 
 
 " They are turning the house the top-side on the 
 bottom, in there."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 293 
 
 The delayed voters, suspecting artifice, but unable 
 to prevent it, fumed without. They jostled and 
 pushed, jeered the inspectors, shouted that they were 
 free men, and that they would not be kept there all 
 day. All at once a cry went up : 
 
 " Them men from down Muckwonago Road has 
 got the small-pox among 'em ! " 
 
 A mob, in affected horror, hustled the persons thus 
 indicated who had no small-pox, but were simply 
 good DeBow voters, for all the trickery was not con- 
 fined to one side, as has been said out of the line, 
 and promptly filled their places, which had been near 
 the front. 
 
 This mano3uvre came too late, however, to have 
 any political effect. The day was well on towards 
 its close at the time, and it presently expired as if 
 with a tangible noise. Boom ! came the sound of a 
 distant signal gun, the piece regularly fired on the 
 grounds of the fine Soldiers' Home, on the outskirts, 
 to mark the exact time of sunset. Its report had not 
 fully died away before the polling-window shut with 
 a bang. The election was over, and the waiting vot- 
 ers without sent up yells of rage and discomfiture. 
 
 Long past the customary time, that evening, the 
 returns of the election were not yet in. Even those 
 who waited in hope till a very late hour of the night 
 were forced at last to go to bed without them. Nor 
 did the papers of the next day, nor even of the next, 
 contain them. The result as to some of the minor 
 officers was known, it is true. Paul Barclay, for
 
 294 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 instance, was elected alderman of Keewaydin, and 
 Christian Idak, landlord of the Johannisberger 
 House, was defeated. But a deal of close scrutiny 
 was needed before it should be known who was to be 
 the next mayor. 
 
 During these days, the rain fell almost continu- 
 ously, beating in a sodden way the political banners, 
 not yet taken in, as if it said, " A plague o' both 
 your houses ! " and adding to the depression of 
 those spirits that had already sufficient to make them 
 gloomy. After noon, on the fourth day, Mrs. Var- 
 emberg was with her father, when a messenger ar- 
 rived with all speed, bringing him an announcement. 
 
 " Is it good news, papa ? Tell me quickly," de- 
 manded Mrs. Varemberg, scanning his features, 
 upon which no ray of elation appeared, and un- 
 able to await his slow words. 
 
 " I am elected," he answered impassively. 
 
 " You are elected ? You are successful, and yet 
 you show no pleasure in it ? " she said, uneasy 
 and alarmed. 
 
 " My majority is of but nine votes. They will 
 not let me rest easy with it. So slender a margin 
 offers too great a premium for contest. It will be 
 disputed."
 
 XIV. 
 
 THE CONTESTED ELECTION. 
 
 DAVID LANE was right in his premonitions : his 
 slender majority offered too great a premium to ob- 
 jectors. He was presently served with the pi-oper 
 notices, and his election was formally contested. 
 
 The testimony in this case was taken in a long 
 upper room of the Johannisberger House, sometimes 
 used as a lodge-room, for assemblies and the like. It 
 was at no great distance from the Polish quarter, 
 and was deemed a convenient place for procuring 
 the attendance of the persons interested. There had 
 been an active stirring among the dry-bones when it 
 was known that these proceedings would take place. 
 Naturally, investigation would not be confined to one 
 side only. Irregular characters of all sorts were has- 
 tily moved to embark on steamers and gravel trains, 
 while others, of a higher class, with standing to main- 
 tain, who could not so easily take flight, quaked with 
 even greater trepidation. In the sequel, develop- 
 ments reached far beyond even the utmost that was 
 expected. The principal legal talent of Keewaydin 
 was enlisted. There were writs quo warranto and 
 certiorari, mandamuses, injunctions, demurrers, ap- 
 peals, all the law's delays, voluntary and involuntary. 
 Should all the surprises, feats of legal skill, hardihood,
 
 290 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 and chicanery, and store of legal learning poured 
 forth, be here set down, after the Homeric fashion, 
 this simple account could be extended to unheard-of 
 length. With the vital interests they held at stake, 
 each side strained every nerve. Paul Barclay, who 
 himself bore no unimportant part in the proceedings, 
 formed a habit of reporting to Mrs. Varemberg, at 
 frequent intervals, for her information and pleasure, 
 all their stages, the humors, exciting episodes, and 
 glimpses into new and quaint phases of life which this 
 unexpected upheaval afforded. 
 
 The case for the contestant, Jim DeBow, was 
 chiefly managed by that astute person, Counselor 
 Rand, the same who had once had Barclay's prop- 
 erty in charge. He proved, on this trial, to be a 
 man of shrewd, quick invention, an' adept in the 
 sophistry that makes the worse appear the better rea- 
 son. He had a ready gift of gab, was skilled both in 
 irony and invective, and was well versed generally in 
 all the unscrupulous resources of his art. In his open- 
 ing speech he outlined his proposed policy. He said 
 in substance : 
 
 " I offer to prove, and shall establish beyond the 
 shadow of a doubt, that there were cast for David 
 Lane, in the various wards, not less than one hun- 
 dred and twenty irregular and fraudulent votes. 
 These are to be deducted from his total vote, as be- 
 ing wholly null and void. A clear title to the high 
 and honorable office of mayor of Keewaydin will 
 thereupon rest with my client, James Sapperthwaite 
 DeBow, Esq." (This middle name created a certain
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 297 
 
 sensation in the court-room. It was perhaps the first 
 time DeBow had ever been known to have any mid- 
 dle name at all, or any other prefix than the custom- 
 ary " Jim.") " I shall show that these irregular and 
 fraudulent votes," Rand went on, " were cast by the 
 following persons, to wit : 
 
 " Aliens, or persons not qualified by sufficient res- 
 idence in the country to exercise the right of suffrage 
 as American citizens. 
 
 " Others who had not resided in the State for the 
 one year next prior to election, as required by law. 
 
 "Others not resident in, or qualified electors of, the 
 wards and precincts in which they assumed to vote. 
 
 " Others vouched for by persons not householders, 
 and therefore not competent to act as sponsors. 
 
 " Finally, I allege that a large number of votes 
 were manufactured outright, and corresponded to no 
 persons having an actual existence." 
 
 Rand charged, furthermore, bribei-y, corruption, 
 and undue influence of many kinds. He glared about 
 the court-room as he spoke, and preserved through- 
 out a sonorous rhetoric and air of august indignation, 
 as if he had been another Edmund Burke impeach- 
 ing a Warren Hastings of high crimes and misde- 
 meanors, in the great hall of William Rufus. He put 
 Ludwig Trapschuh on the stand, as an expert in the 
 habits, manners, and customs of the Polish people. 
 The bridge-tender proceeded to recollect names, 
 dates, and circumstances with a prodigious facility. 
 His own belief was that all was utterly lost to him 
 henceforth, so far as concerned the favor of David
 
 298 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 Lane, even, probably, to the stipend of Stanislava, 
 and his only salvation must be in deserving the 
 gratitude of the opposition to the utmost. 
 
 Mr. Welby Goff next made a considerable figure, 
 under examination, iu describing his part in the 
 wrangle over the 'bus-load of Bohemian workmen, as 
 before mentioned. 
 
 " Did you not distinctly hear their foreman threaten 
 to discharge them unless they obeyed orders ? " de- 
 manded counsel for the contestant. 
 
 " How could I have understood him. if he was Bo- 
 hemian ? " returned witness, parrying. 
 
 " Answer my question. Did you not distinctly hear 
 him make that threat in English?" 
 
 " What I want to know, in that case, is how the 
 men could have understood him, if they were Bohe- 
 mians," said Welby Goff. 
 
 This was characterized by Rand as impudent and 
 evasive quibbling, as no doubt it was, and when 
 DeBow's side finally rested their case the prospect 
 looked dark for David Lane. It was plainly evident 
 that Ives Wilson and some of his friends, acting with" 
 an ill-judged zeal, to put the most favorable construc- 
 tion upon it, had done things that would not at all 
 bear the clear light of investigation. 
 
 When Lane's counsel took the floor, however, the 
 case assumed a very different complexion. It was 
 shown that the DeBow party had engaged in the 
 same, and even more iniquitous, practices. The issue 
 seemed to resolve itself into one more of quantity 
 than quality.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 299 
 
 Paul Barclay was called to testify as to an expedi- 
 tion consisting of himself, one Peter Stransky, the 
 Polish letter-carrier, and a German interpreter he 
 ha'd energetically organized of his own motion, to go 
 about, on the South Side, searching for the numerous 
 missing voters by affidavit for DeBow. He testified 
 that he had taken a copy of the poll-list, and at sev- 
 eral of the addresses given had found no houses at all, 
 nor any such numbers on the streets ; and at numer- 
 ous others, no trace whatever of the pretended voters 
 named, nor of any persons who had ever known them. 
 
 He was attacked by Rand with all the arts permit- 
 ted the unscrupulous cross-examiner. That individ- 
 ual had, for the first time, found an opportunity to 
 wreak in a small way the malice he still cherished 
 from the date of their former dealings together. He 
 sought to impugn Barclay's reputation for truth and 
 veracity. He sought next to show that the little 
 band of searchers were not qualified for their mission, 
 that they had been frightened away from certain ten- 
 ement-houses by fear of small-pox, that their search 
 was but a mere pretense at best, that they had no real 
 desire to find the voters, but had increased the mysti- 
 fication, and distorted facts for their own partisan pur- 
 poses. He changed from the browbeating to the pat- 
 ronizing, from the menacing to the genially sarcastic ; 
 he threw in plentiful taunts and innuendoes, calcu- 
 lated to enrage the callow in this kind of experience, 
 to his own entanglement and destruction. The red 
 color of resentment, in fact, mantled the cheek of Paul 
 Barclay at the first few stings, and his eye kindled
 
 300 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 in a way that might have indicated danger to his tor- 
 mentor. But he very soon recovered his self-control, 
 and, adopting a far more effectual policy, began to re- 
 turn cool, baffling, sometimes half-amused replies, that 
 showed him to be no tyro in linguistic conflicts, but 
 one amply able to defend himself. Hand fell back 
 from some of his more biting answers, much as the 
 wild bull might fall back, from violent onslaughts, on 
 the keen rapier of the toreador. 
 
 You have lived a long time in Poland, no doubt ? " 
 he said, sneeringly. " You are thoroughly familiar 
 with the language ? " 
 
 " I have spent a short time in Poland. I have a 
 certain idea of its pronunciation." 
 
 The questioner was flustered ; he had not expected 
 any such evidence of fitness. 
 
 He entered next upon questions of pronunciation 
 at great length. He chose to impugn the competency 
 of Peter Stransky a renegade Pole, he said, whom 
 his countrymen refused to associate with and the 
 German interpreter. " Will you kindly describe to 
 us," he demanded, " your method of asking for these 
 voters ? " 
 
 Where the person named was taken to be Polish, 
 he was inquired for through the Polish interpreter ; 
 where he was taken to be German, through the Ger- 
 man interpreter." 
 
 " How did you know whether the person was Pol- 
 ish or German ? " 
 
 " I judged of his nationality from the name." 
 
 "Are you a first-class expert in judging of the 
 nationality of a man from his name ?"
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 301 
 
 " I am perhaps about a third-class expert," replied 
 Barclay, smiling, " but the combined expertness of 
 the party must certainly have been pretty near the 
 proper standard." 
 
 " Did you not know that if you did not find these 
 men it would be more to the advantage of David 
 Lane than if you did ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, we must take that for granted, just as 
 the learned counsel knows that bluster and imperti- 
 nence may take the place of argument and evidence, 
 when he has none in his case," returned Barclay, for 
 once meeting the insult somewhat in kind. 
 
 Upon this, the court pounded with its gavel, and 
 insisted on rather better order on both sides ; but 
 Rand continued to thunder that the whole inquiry 
 was a delusion and an intentional fraud, and that all 
 the persons inquired for really existed, and could 
 have been found by any honest and competent au- 
 thorities. He next recalled Trapschuh to sustain 
 his position, which this man did with a preposterous 
 effrontery. 
 
 " I ask you, as a person well versed in the pecul- 
 iarities of the Polish people," he said, putting the 
 bridge-tender a long hypothetical question. " Sup- 
 posing a number of strange men, one an American, 
 one a German, and one a Pole, should go about to- 
 gether through the Polish quarter, asking a great 
 variety of questions, such as who lived in a house, 
 whether such and such persons lived there, and the 
 like, what sort of treatment would such a band be 
 likely to meet with ? "
 
 302 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 "They would meet with no treatment at all. It 
 would be lucky for them if they did n't get licked." 
 
 " And they would not get any information ? " 
 
 " No : parties would run on ahead and tell other 
 parties they was coming, and, when they got there, 
 they would ask them what they wanted to know for ; 
 and no matter what they asked, they would not tell 
 them anything." 
 
 " Now as to the Polish women. I ask you, as a 
 person well versed in the peculiarities of the Polish 
 people, what would be the course of the Polish wo- 
 men, if their husbands or other male relatives were 
 absent from home, when such a band of men came 
 prowling about. Would they give information ? " 
 
 " No ; the men would n't let 'em. Besides, all 
 them Polish women lie like the devil ; they don't 
 ever answer no questions right." 
 
 A slight cry was heard, upon this. Trapschuh, 
 looking round, saw his niece, Stanislava Zelinsky, in 
 the court. He wondered at her being there, but 
 supposed it was only as a spectator, like the rest. 
 The room was packed, several rows deep, all around 
 its borders, with men, for the most part of the labor- 
 ing sort, in rough, ill-smelling clothing, drawn there 
 by their personal interest, or that of immediate 
 friends, in the proceedings. The girl was being led 
 up to a more favored position, it is true, apart from 
 this crowd, and not far from the counsel for David 
 Lane ; but Trapschuh did not approve of the degree 
 of forwardness and curiosity that could have brought 
 her to such a place. He meant to have more to say
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 303 
 
 of this anon, though by no means, as yet, suspecting 
 the real cause of it. 
 
 " Have you met with many instances, in your ex- 
 perience, where the Polish women would not tell the 
 truth ? " he was asked. 
 
 " Yes, more as two hundred, more as one thou- 
 sand," he replied, with a nonchalant recklessness. 
 
 Stanislava involuntarily lamented aloud once more 
 at this wholesale aspersion. The glib perjuries of 
 her uncle made her breath come thick and fast, with 
 astonishment and grief. She wondered that the floor 
 did not open and swallow him up. She looked 
 around the circle, as if all present were somehow 
 responsible, too, and almost as bad as he, inasmuch 
 as they did not stop it on the instant, but calmly sat 
 there instead, and listened to it go on. The true 
 history of her coming into court was as follows : 
 
 David Lane, following with painful intensity all 
 the stages of the trial, went to his daughter, one 
 day, when it was well advanced, and said, 
 
 " You say this Polish girl, whom I have benefited, 
 once told you she wished to be of service to me. 
 Now is her opportunity, if she will use it. She 
 seems an intelligent, observing person, and she has 
 undoubtedly seen something of the true facts in the 
 case ; she may be got to deny the wild fabrications of 
 this man, even though he be her relative. She can 
 hardly wish to aid the combination against me, I am 
 sure.'' 
 
 Mrs. Varemberg had immediately sought the girl, 
 and found her ready to speak the truth. She had
 
 304 TI1E GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 sent her to Barclay, and he, in turn, to the discreet 
 counsel in the case, and an arrangement had been 
 effected by which, keeping suspicion averted till the 
 last moment, she was to appear. 
 
 Such hard swearing as that of Trapschuh and his 
 mates produced conviction in the humbler portion of 
 the audience, who stood about in awe, and thought 
 that egregious asseveration like this must make even 
 those things to be which had not been. It had its 
 effect even in higher quarters, not too well versed 
 as yet in distinguishing facts from protestation. The 
 production of Stanislava, therefore, was a decided 
 coup. It was rare that any woman entered the do- 
 main of these political turmoils, and here was a very 
 young, pretty, and apparently ingenuous one. A 
 little hubbub arose as she took the stand, which re- 
 quired some time to quell. The protruding little 
 eyes of Ludwig Trapschuh started from his head 
 with amazement. 
 
 She controverted his outrageous statements, tried 
 to vindicate her humble country-women from the 
 sweeping charge of mendacity, and traced Polish 
 families and individual voters. She often knew the 
 exact date of their arrival in the country, through 
 having entered them as applicants for assistance and 
 employment on the books of the benevolent societies. 
 The excellent handwriting on which we have heard 
 her complimented now stood her in good stead. 
 
 Most important of all, casting a look of appeal 
 at her uncle, as if to beseech him not to withhold his 
 favor from her, even though she performed a duty
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 305 
 
 which her conscience and the interests of truth clear- 
 ly demanded, she testified to having overheard the 
 conspiracy between him, Barney, and Notary Kroe- 
 ger, whereby, though appearing to act always for 
 David Lane, they were covertly to procure and 
 manufacture votes for Jim DeBow. She was timid 
 and flushed with fevered nervousness, at first, but 
 gained confidence as she proceeded, and her answers 
 were of a clear positiveness that crosscut-examina- 
 tion could not shake. Her whole manner carried 
 conviction with it. 
 
 A recall of Trapschuh, based upon her evidence, 
 followed, and resulted in his utter collapse. He tan- 
 gled himself up in a new tissue of preposterous false- 
 hoods. Shown an " exhibit " that purported to be 
 the affidavit of the voter Wozer Chezefski, he was 
 asked if he knew Chezefski. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " I know him very well. He 
 belong from Prussia Poland." 
 
 Shown "exhibit 23," the affidavit of the pretended 
 voter Wenzel Vai, he was asked, " Do you know 
 Wenzel Vai ? " 
 
 " Yes, I know a man like that. He's a Bohemian 
 man." 
 
 Shown the affidavit of the pretended voter Andreas 
 Lanick, he said, 
 
 " Yes, I know him." 
 
 " How long ? " 
 
 " Since twenty-five years ago." 
 
 Shown a great number of other ex-affidavits of the 
 same general description,
 
 306 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " Yes, I know each and every one of them." He 
 had caught up stray bits of the legal phraseology. 
 
 " And you could find these men if you wished to ? " 
 
 " Yes, unless they moved away since election 
 day." 
 
 " What makes you think they would move away 
 since election day ? " 
 
 " More as two, three, hundred Polander families 
 moved away since election time," he asserted, in 
 round numbers. 
 
 " Does not that estimate seem a little high ?" 
 
 " No, it is not high ; it is low," he insisted dog- 
 gedly. 
 
 " Now, will you tell us what you understand by a 
 family ? " 
 
 " I und'stand a man, his wife, some children, and 
 maybe a few cousins and uncles." 
 
 " Why do you think so many families would sud- 
 denly leave Keewaydin ? " 
 
 " If them Polanders can live cheaper by goin' 
 away as by stayin' at home, they will go away, in 
 Minnezota, Illinois, and Michigan." 
 
 Counsel amiably appeared to accept this as quite a 
 philosophical answer and explanation, and Trapschuh 
 was much pleased with his own ingenuity. 
 
 " Will you, now, kindly give a description of the 
 Andreas Lanick before mentioned ? " 
 
 " He had a a slouched hat and a kind o' 
 old coat," stammered Trapschuh. " I know him 
 very well ; " more promptly. 
 
 " Give us a description of Wenzel Vai."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 307 
 
 " He 's a kind o' sandy man, not very short. I 
 done some figurin' with him once." 
 
 " Please describe Wozer Chezefski." 
 
 " He 's not very tall. He wears a slouched hat, 
 too," the witness returned, nearly at the end of his 
 invention. 
 
 " Give us a description of Mike Matelski." 
 
 " The description of each and every Polauder is 
 mostly alike." 
 
 " Tell us where Mike Matelski lived." 
 
 " Down by Muckwonago Road. I guess I don't 
 remember the number." 
 
 " In what street ? " 
 
 " It was a wood house, kind o' red color, with 
 green blinds," he answered evasively. 
 
 " Where did Wozer Chezefski live ? " 
 
 " His house was kind o' blue color." 
 
 The witness began to mop his forehead furiously 
 with a handkerchief. 
 
 " What was the age of your friend Andreas La- 
 nick ? " 
 
 " Oh, he was a younk man, he 's about twenty- 
 two years old." 
 
 " Your memory is perfectly good ? " 
 
 " Nobody has so better a memory as what I got," 
 he replied, resenting any imputations upon it. 
 
 " Well, then, how does it happen that you remem- 
 ber Andreas Lanick for the past twenty-five years, 
 when you say he is but twenty-two years old ? " 
 
 The witness's jaw dropped. He was aghast ; but 
 presently seemed recovering himself, in a surly way, 
 for new efforts.
 
 308 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 "Now, as to this large number of families that 
 you say moved away : did you personally see them 
 go?" 
 
 " I seen some go, and parties told me about the 
 others." 
 
 " What were the names of those you saw go ? " 
 
 " One's name was Lijeski ; I guess the man's front 
 name was Antony. Another's name was Molicheck. 
 Another's name was Lexau." 
 
 " Those are three ; how as to the rest of the three 
 hundred ? " 
 
 " I don't remember all the names." 
 
 " Nor any more of them ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Who were the parties who told you they had 
 seen the families leave the city ? " 
 
 "I don't remember their names." 
 
 " Give a description of some of those who told you 
 they had seen the families go." 
 
 " One was a big feller with a slouched hat." 
 
 " When did you see him last ? " 
 
 The witness began to glare at his ruthless tor- 
 mentor. It was hopeless to think of finding answers 
 to such a remorseless torrent of questions. 
 
 " On election day. I sent for him to come over," 
 he added, by way of embroidering with a detail as 
 opportunity offered. 
 
 " How did you send for him to come, if you did 
 not know his name ? " 
 
 "I asked parties if parties over that way had 
 voted," was the reply, in an open fury which the 
 presiding magistrate sternly repressed.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 309 
 
 "And you swear that this is as true as any other 
 part of your testimony ? " 
 
 " I swear that it is all true. All of them men bin 
 voters ; they belong from Prussia Poland ; each and 
 every one of 'em got his right citizen papers, and I 
 know 'em all very well," he returned, in a final all- 
 embracing burst. 
 
 " Oh, he makes me tired," Welby Goff was heard 
 to exclaim, in the slang of the day, affecting to fall 
 dramatically on the back of his chair. Even hard- 
 ened counsel sighed, in a pensive way. But Trap- 
 schuh was not yet released ; he had still to be ques- 
 tioned as to making the boy Nicodem Kraska vote. 
 He brazenly insisted that Nicodem was of age. 
 When asked how he knew, he said " because he 
 looked so." The boy's mother, Suzanka, was in 
 court, and it was even after her testimony that Trap- 
 schuh perpetrated his effrontery. Suzanka set up a 
 loud wailing, and, being suppressed, seemed to await 
 his coming down from the witness-stand with the 
 
 O 
 
 purpose of doing him a bodily injury. 
 
 " Have you advised with your counsel as to what 
 you were to say in this case ? " Lane's counsel 
 thought good to ask, humorously, to cast part of the 
 odium of Trapschuh's lying upon Rand. 
 
 " No, he advised with me," returned Trapschuh, 
 meaning to be surly, but really aiding, the design in 
 view even more than was expected. 
 
 Upon this he was allowed to retire, and he stepped 
 down, abashed, into obscure private life, from the 
 depths of which it was long indeed before he again 
 emerged.
 
 310 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 Barney Trapschuh, among others, was examined 
 in las turn. Being asked why he signed affidavits as 
 a householder, when he was not one, he said naively 
 that he had understood by a householder " a person 
 what lived in a house." At this, Welby Goff nearly 
 fell on the floor, once more. 
 
 Peter Haller. the teamster, testified that he had 
 certified to affidavits of a large number of persons 
 he had never seen before, because " they looked 
 honest." 
 
 The self-sufficient little notary, Kroeger, when his 
 turn came, was found to have resisted the summons 
 first sent out by the court, and to have been brought 
 in under arrest. 
 
 "You said you could not be bothered coming 
 here," said the presiding magistrate to him, in severe 
 reproof. " You went to a wedding, instead." 
 
 " I knew I was all right, and there was n't no need 
 for me to come," he responded sullenly. 
 
 " That remains to be seen," said the judge. And 
 it was so effectually seen that Kroeger was shown to 
 be one of the most heinous offenders on the entire 
 list. It appeared that, through informalities in the 
 taking out of his commission, he was not even a qual- 
 ified notary-public, nor competent to certify any affi- 
 davits whatever. Here at the very Johannisberger 
 House, the seat of his majestic egotism and claims to 
 oracular wisdom, the little man was so thoroughly 
 impugned in all the sources of his authority that he 
 could never hold his head aloft again. In fine, the 
 cases of the voters delayed by the arts of the inspec-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 311 
 
 tors at the Railroad Avenue precinct were taken up, 
 and argued at great length. It was claimed that 
 there had been over forty of these men, all provided 
 with Lane ballots, so that, by the fraudulent prac- 
 tices named, many votes were lost to that candidate. 
 Without doubt, the enterprise of Barclay and the 
 testimony of Stanislava had been the two elements, 
 in these complications, that had carried the balance 
 to the side of David Lane, and procured the final 
 verdict in his favor. He was forced to owe his tri- 
 umph to the children of those victims of the Chip- 
 pewa Street bridge whose death was the cause even 
 of this political strife.
 
 XV. 
 
 DAVID LANE'S ATTEMPT AT FREEDOM. 
 
 AT the customary time, as fixed by the city char- 
 ter, it was towards the end of April, Paul Bar- 
 clay took his seat in the new board of aldermen. His 
 reputation for the active, managing sort of ability, as 
 well as for financial soundness, had preceded him. 
 He was well received, and put at once upon some of 
 the more important standing committees. 
 
 Among other matters, at this first regular meeting 
 of the year, a combination was discovered to take 
 away the city printing from Ives Wilson and his In- 
 dex. Set on foot by his usual adversaries in the other 
 papers, it was aided by some as a punishment for his 
 course in bolting the nominations of his party con- 
 vention, and by others who had been made the ob- 
 jects of some of his embittered journalism. That 
 sprightly person was alive to his danger, however, 
 and fought it tooth and nail. It almost seemed as if 
 he could be in half a dozen places at once, as, with 
 the lock of hair streaming back from the apex of his 
 head like an oriflamme, he moved from desk to desk 
 among the aldermen, in whose part of the council 
 chamber, by the way, he had no business to be at all, 
 strengthening the weak, joking with his firmer 
 friends, and even making propositions for their sup-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 313 
 
 port to the less pronounced of his enemies. When 
 the vote was taken, he had retained his patronage by 
 a majority of but two. This was so close that his 
 contemporaries of the press assured him that it ought 
 to be a terrible warning to him, at least, henceforth 
 to keep a civil point to his pen and less gall in his 
 inkstand. But Ives Wilson did not take it at all in 
 this light. He announced his success, in the Index, 
 as a triumphant " vindication," and he began imme- 
 diately a more trenchant course of abuse than ever 
 before. 
 
 An interregnum of something like two months now 
 ensued. Pending the contest between the rival claim- 
 ants for mayor, the president of the aldermen con- 
 tinued to govern the city. What with all the delays 
 incident to the decision, it was nearly July, instead of 
 April, before the right of David Lane was finally 
 recognized, and he was installed in his chair. 
 
 While his fate had still hung in the balance he had 
 perceptibly wasted, and grown older and feebler. 
 The two months of suspense were among the keener 
 forms of his punishment. For a while it had ap- 
 peared that he was not to have even the desperate 
 chance of attempting his wild and difficult project. 
 During this time he had thought vaguely whether he 
 might not cause to be introduced into the board of 
 aldermen a resolution calling for the repair of the 
 Golden Justice ; counting that, when once scaffold- 
 ings were up, some laborer might be corrupted, and 
 induced to seize the ardently coveted paper for him. 
 He had thought, also, of engaging the janitor ; but
 
 314 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 the worthy Anton Klopp was a wheezy individual, 
 even less capable, physically, than himself. And then 
 the statue needed no repairing; it would easily be 
 discovered to be in excellent condition. And, again, 
 even if it were not, he had decided, years before, that 
 he dared trust his secret to no one. But behold him, 
 at last, in possession of the poor vantage-ground he 
 had sought, and relieved of this source of anxiety. 
 
 The inauguration of a mayor, always a stirring af- 
 fair in political circles, was made especially important 
 on the present occasion by the character of the events 
 that had preceded it. There were deferred appoint- 
 ments to office to be made, and a mass of difficult 
 business had also been diplomatically deferred, to fall 
 upon the shoulders of the new incumbent. 
 
 A general amnesty had been tacitly decreed for 
 the irregularities of the late election. Both sides had 
 so equally participated in them that all might be 
 considered as tarred with the same stick. Measures 
 of legislation were at once introduced, however, to 
 prevent the recurrence of such abuses in the future. 
 
 With as sharp a feeling of self-reproach as his pre- 
 occupation left him for anything less engrossing, 
 David Lane recognized how largely he, the assumed 
 model of probity, had been responsible for this cor- 
 ruption of the public virtue. All evil deeds seemed 
 to follow upon his first, in direct sequence, as if he 
 were another Macbeth. He delivered his brief in- 
 augural address in the chamber of the aldermen, then 
 gravely received some hand-shakings of congratula- 
 tion as he stepped from the tribune, and then with-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 315 
 
 drew to his office. He was followed thither by some 
 persons connected with the accumulated business, and 
 for a considerable time had to hold a levee in the 
 spacious room ; but one by one these visitors dropped 
 off, and, as the twilight drew on, he was at last quite 
 alone. 
 
 He gave a long, heavy sigh, conveying both re- 
 lief and a newly arising form of trouble, and threw 
 himself down in his chair. The first step in his pro- 
 posed deliverance was accomplished. He was free to 
 come and go, and to remain and plan his projects in 
 the building without question from any quarter. Soon 
 he bent forward again, and, leaning his arm on his 
 desk and his face on his hand, remained a long time 
 in that position, suggesting the brooding Lorenzo, 
 who looks down from above the famous tombs of the 
 Medici at Florence. He had brought with him, even 
 on this first day, some of the tools for his exploit. 
 He placed these safely in a drawer of the desk. On 
 the morrow he would bring the others. He paced 
 the floor meditatively, and lightly tested, by turns, the 
 muscles of his legs and arms, as he had done once 
 before, on a previous occasion. On the morrow, too, 
 there would be delivered to him here a light grap- 
 pling-ladder, already ordered ; tall enough, as he said, 
 to reach to the uppermost of his high book-shelves. 
 
 For the next few days, as he walked to the city 
 hall for his appointed tasks, and in many a slow 
 jaunt about the square, for the special purpose, his 
 eye fearfully sought the Golden Justice ; his brain 
 estimated heights, distances, times, and forecast the
 
 316 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 position of his ladder and all his own movements 
 when at last he should find himself there aloft, where 
 he had so long desired to be. Now, when actually 
 face to face with his undertaking, its sheer physical 
 obstacles loomed up before him with the most for- 
 midable difficulty. " I am an old, old man ! " he 
 would mutter. He put off its execution yet another 
 day, and another, and at last he was taken with a sort 
 of paralysis of supreme discouragement; he revolted 
 against the problem before him in utter despair. The 
 shining figure seemed to mock him ; high aloft there 
 in the blue empyrean, it swam before his eyes, hope- 
 lessly unattainable by any puny efforts of his. 
 
 " I cannot do it, I will not do it ! " he cried out 
 to himself, all but demented. " It is impossible. Let 
 them wait." 
 
 His manner at home, during a great part of this 
 long delay, had been strained, abstracted, and uncom- 
 fortable. Barclay had come there rather upon suf- 
 ferance than as a welcome guest, and had repiued 
 and fumed under the situation with ever-increasing 
 impatience. Lane had made no concession to the 
 object for which the lovers were waiting ; he had 
 held obstinately to the letter of his words. Mrs. 
 Varemberg had once or twice taken the initiative 
 upon herself, and addressed him a few words, but 
 only to be repulsed. He had answered her that he 
 was thinking of it. 
 
 "Are you indeed thinking of it deeply? Does it 
 require so much consideration ?" she had demanded. 
 
 " Yes, believe me, I am considering it deeply."
 
 THE G OLDEN J UU TICE. 317 
 
 On the momentous day, when he came home op- 
 pressed by utter lassitude and despair, as described, 
 it chanced that she spoke to him again. She had, 
 up to that time, preserved a very long silence. They 
 had only their own company at dinner, Mrs. Clinton 
 being absent. 
 
 " Papa," began Mrs. Varemberg. 
 
 Her father knew at once what was coming, and 
 he evaded her large and earnest eyes, which were 
 raised appealingly to his. 
 
 " I did not think I should have to be the one to 
 speak first," she said, " but a week has now passed 
 since you became mayor ; the condition upon which 
 you insisted is fulfilled, and yet and yet " She 
 arose before she added more, and, coming in a coax- 
 ing way around to his side of the table, rested her 
 hand on his shoulder. " And yet," she went on, 
 " you say nothing of the subject that is the nearest 
 and dearest to the heart of Paul and myself." 
 
 He affected at first not quite to know what she 
 was talking about. 
 
 " I mean your promise, papa, that you would de- 
 cide as soon as you were elected. Paul and I have 
 been waiting so patiently. Will you not let me send 
 him word of your favorable answer to-day ? I know 
 you have been doing all this only to try us, to see 
 if we are really earnest in our affection." 
 
 David Lane was suffering the tortures of the 
 damned. He repulsed her caressing hand from his 
 shoulder almost rudely, arose, moved back from his 
 chair in a staggering, stupefied way, and then, collect-
 
 318 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 ing his faculties, said, " Yes, I recall the matter now. 
 Well, I have decided against it. I cannot consent." 
 
 " You cannot consent ? " Mrs. Varemberg mur- 
 mured, trembling, incredulous. 
 
 " I cannot give my approval to your marriage with 
 Paul Barclay." 
 
 " Oh, what is this ? What does it all mean ? " she 
 gasped. 
 
 He seemed to feel it necessary to give some answer, 
 and, casting about, he found a wretched excuse. 
 
 " He was opposed to my election. I I have it 
 from the very best authority." 
 
 And he proceeded to cite the episode, reported by 
 Ives Wilson, of Barclay's having refused to brow- 
 beat his men in their voting. 
 
 "I have heard that story, too. I honor him, 
 rather, as you would once have done, for having been 
 one of the few to resist political corruption, even 
 in his own interest. For your interest was his. 
 Was he not one of your strongest supporters ? What 
 would you have done without him, in the contest ? " 
 
 " Perhaps I am harsh, unrelenting, but I have 
 made up my mind. I I cannot forgive him." 
 
 " Forgive him ? May Heaven forgive you all the 
 harm you have done us both," rejoined his daughter, 
 with a noble air of indignation and contempt, and 
 she prepared to withdraw from the room. " I call 
 you no longer my father. I do not know what your 
 motives can be, but my father would never have 
 acted so. Let this be my farewell. I shall leave 
 your house as soon as is possible."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 319 
 
 ' Where will you go ? What will you do ? " he 
 demanded in alarm, aroused to his full faculties, as 
 an intoxicated man is often sobered by some sudden 
 shock. 
 
 " I do not know. I will place myself under pro- 
 tection, and when a suitable time has expired I will 
 marry Paul Barclay." 
 
 " Will you go to him without money ? Will you 
 throw yourself as a burden upon him ? " 
 
 She was staggered a moment by this consideration, 
 but, recovering herself, she answered, 
 
 " Yes ; he loves me. He alone of all the world 
 wishes me well ; to him alone my happiness is dear. 
 He will not look at it so." 
 
 " Florence ! " cried David Lane, and this time he 
 stretched out his arms towards her pleadingly. She 
 had opposed to him at last an obstinacy and hardness 
 of heart equal to his own. This unnatural casting 
 off by his own daughter wholly unnerved and broke 
 him down. "This from you," he said, "my dar- 
 ling, my child, the one always so dear to me ; you 
 whom I held in my arms as a baby, whom I nursed 
 through sickness ; you who made me the confidant 
 of all your joys and troubles, who were always so 
 sure of my affection, as you must be sure of it even 
 now ? " 
 
 " Then why, papa ? then why, papa ? " she asked, 
 incoherently. She was easily touched, and quick to 
 forgiveness and reconciliation. 
 
 David Lane then had the impulse to tell her all 
 of his sad story. But he only exclaimed again, much 
 as he had on a former occasion,
 
 320 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " I must have yet a little time. Wait till you see 
 me again. To-morrow perhaps it will be different. 
 Oh, I assure you, you shall have reasons to-morrow." 
 
 The die was cast. No more vacillations, no more 
 shilly-shally. He had determined once for all that 
 his attempt at freedom should be carried into effect 
 that very night. 
 
 When all the other public officials had left the city 
 hall, the conscientious new mayor was still at his 
 office, and apparently plunged up to the eyes in the 
 mass of unfinished business there accumulated. 
 
 He was still immersed in it, when the janitor made 
 his rounds to close up the building, towards ten 
 o'clock. That rotund functionary put his head in 
 once more in a deferential way, at eleven o'clock, 
 having waited up expressly an hour later than usual 
 to see if anything might be wanted of him. 
 
 "No, no, Klopp, don't mind me," returned David 
 Lane cheerily. " I '11 probably be through in a few 
 minutes. Go to bed. I '11 let myself out by the 
 small door. And, in any event, don't let me give 
 you the least bit of trouble." 
 
 " He 's a pretty good feller, and a hard-workin' 
 feller for mayor, zure," soliloquized Klopp to him- 
 self. 
 
 He gladly availed himself of the permission ac- 
 corded him, and after banging a door or two and 
 rattling a great poker in the vicinity of the furnaces, 
 in the regions below-stairs, he was soon snoring in 
 the midst of his family, who occupied the quarters 
 assigned them in the basement.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 321 
 
 For perhaps an hour longer the mayor bent over 
 his official tasks. He paused from time to time, to 
 listen. Finally he swept his papers aside, rose, and 
 began to pace the floor, pressing a hand upon his 
 heart, as if to check its accelerated beatings. He had 
 already drawn the shades and tightly closed the shut- 
 ters of the apartment, that no curious eye, if any 
 were so disposed, might look in upon his proceedings. 
 He now took from their place of deposit the tools he 
 had prepared, an array of sharp-cutting drills and 
 saws, unhooked the new grappling-ladder from the 
 high shelf, and lighted and extinguished once or 
 twice a small dark lantern, to see that it was in 
 working order. 
 
 Then he divested himself of a part of his clothing 
 and put on shoes of listing, for greater celerity and 
 stealthiness in his proposed movements. Thus par- 
 tially disrobed, it could be seen that his was indeed 
 no figure for great athletic undertakings. The work 
 before him was of a kind to try even youthful and 
 robust capacity, and he looked, as he was, old and 
 crippled in his joints by his maladies. The excite- 
 ment of the occasion gave him an unwonted briskness 
 and color, it is true, and he gathered further strength 
 from another source. Pie drew forth a flask, and 
 took a long pull at it. At the last moment, another. 
 So there ! aid from any quarter is welcome in the 
 supreme effort of one's life. 
 
 He heard a sudden dash of rain against his win- 
 dows, followed by the rumble of distant thunder, and 
 immediately after the cathedral clock struck one.
 
 322 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 The moment for action had come. Rain ? So much 
 the better ! Under the cover of storm and darkness, 
 his movements must be hidden from any possible ob- 
 servation, his expedition must be doubly secure. 
 
 He opened the door of his apartment, and set foot 
 in the corridor without, but, on the instant, stepped 
 back again in affright. The vacant halls seemed full 
 of stealthy whisperings and light footsteps. Surely 
 they were stealing along there to spy upon him. A 
 dread haunted him of some ghostly circle of witnesses 
 gathered around the balcony of the rotunda of the 
 central dome, and waiting to flash a full light of rec- 
 ognition upon him and break out into jeers and 
 laughter at his attempt. He stood for some time 
 within, listening with painful intentness. At last he 
 made sure that all this was but the sound of the rain 
 and the draughts of air which wandered uninter- 
 rupted at night through the empty spaces of the 
 great city hall. 
 
 Thereupon he set forth with a renewed confidence. 
 He passed in turn the office-doors of the comptroller, 
 the tax commissioner, the treasurer. What would 
 his trusty subordinates have thought of him, their 
 mayor, could they have but seen him thus, gliding by 
 like some phantom of the night? He recalled the 
 story of that German burgomaster, who was wont to 
 prowl in the dark, armed with a long knife, over the 
 roofs of the houses, committing robberies and mur- 
 ders, and the next day, in his staid official capacity, 
 to conduct the inquiries as to the best means of seiz- 
 ing the assassins. He likened himself to him, and
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 323 
 
 apprehended a similar exposure. He had to sit down 
 arid rest several times, overcome with fatigue, as he 
 mounted the principal staircase. 
 
 " An old, old man ! " he would murmur ; but it 
 was in a patient, almost mechanical way now, and 
 with no thought of relinquishing his undertaking. 
 
 Once arrived in the upper stories, he breathed 
 more freely ; the danger of any personal encounter, 
 at least, seemed here got rid of. He gave himself, 
 too, a fuller benefit of his lantern than he had hith- 
 erto dared to do. Once, however, he hastily dashed 
 the dark slide across it, and crouched against the 
 wall, while his heart leaped into his mouth. He was 
 on the second staircase, which he had partially 
 mounted, and distinctly heard a step coming down it. 
 Who could it be ? Who could possibly be abroad at 
 such an hour ? Was it perhaps one of Klopp's chil- 
 dren, dispatcher! thither on some unheard-of errand ? 
 Was it some somnambulist, walking in those regions 
 in his sleep ? Was it an apparition ? Old supersti- 
 tious stories of his childhood, in which he did not in 
 the least believe, came back to David Lane, and for 
 the nonce took a certain reality. 
 
 The footstep still came downward, dropping from 
 stair to stair with an uncertain sort of tread. The 
 presence, whatever it was, was close at hand, was 
 passing him. He struck out, in uncontrollable af- 
 fright, in the direction whence it sounded, and en- 
 countered nothing. But at the same moment a leap- 
 ing and tumbling as of some animal was heard below 
 him, and, flashing his dark lantern, he saw a large
 
 324 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 rat. It had been coming down with a billet of wood, 
 which was attached to a scrap of leather, and, being 
 discovered, it scurried precipitately away into one of 
 the great dusty attics at the side. He had no sur- 
 plus force to stand such useless drains, but he soon 
 collected himself, and climbed on. 
 
 At the balcony where he had once held his inter- 
 view with Paul Barclay, he stopped a moment, to 
 look out upon the night. It was raining steadily, 
 and the darkness was even thicker than he could 
 have desired. Thence onward again, passing through 
 a minor door or two, which he opened with duplicate 
 keys and locked behind him, to a region where dust 
 and cobwebs were rarely disturbed. Thence up 
 lengths of ladder-like stairway, up a spiral one twin- 
 ing interminably round a central post, and, at length, 
 a steep ladder, which ended at the small trap door 
 through which he must make his final" exit upon the 
 dome. Twice he painfully climbed this last, once to 
 throw open the trap door, and again to bring up his 
 scaling-ladder and general budget. 
 
 At this point, he stood with his head and shoulders 
 the rain falling upon him unhindered projecting 
 through a small opening in the roof of the cupola 
 which surmounted the principal dome. He was just 
 above the level of its cornice, which constituted a 
 flat ledge of considerable width. Above him, close at 
 hand, but raised a considerable distance still, by her 
 globular base, towered the long-sought Golden Justice. 
 David Lane thrilled at the strange proximity, and 
 it was some time before he could exert himself to
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 325 
 
 find a safe place for his effects, on the cornice. 
 Next, raising himself by means of his hands and 
 arms, he accomplished the feat that would have 
 seemed all but incredible to disabilities like his of 
 climbing out through the opening. He stretched 
 himself briefly to rest. The cathedral clock beside 
 him in the air struck two, he had consumed an 
 hour in making the ascent. He had been drenched 
 to the skin in the very first few moments, and the 
 ledge where he lay would have required steady 
 nerves to remain comfortably upon it even in broad 
 daylight. 
 
 He delayed only for a short breathing space, but 
 soon planted his scaling-ladder against the foot of the 
 statue, catching its hooks in the folds of the drapery 
 as best he could. The wind and rain beat violently 
 upon him as he mounted it, as if in remonstrance, as 
 wild birds beat back with their wings the bold ma- 
 rauder who has climbed to rifle their nests. 
 
 The ladder slipped a trifle, but caught again, and 
 in this instant he had a paralyzed sense or vision of 
 himself, found, the next morning, dashed to pieces 
 on the roofs below, with the paraphernalia of his 
 mission about him. He saw the profound sensation 
 he created among his neighbors, and could even fore- 
 cast the columns of moving description, accompanied 
 by diagrams in illustration, in which the newspapers 
 the Index in particular would indulge. He ar- 
 rived safely, nevertheless, at the base of the statue. 
 Examining it with his lantern, he found, as well as 
 his memory could serve him, after the lapse of so
 
 326 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 many years, the vicinity of the place where the pa- 
 per had been sealed up. Steadying himself more 
 firmly on the top round of the ladder, he began his 
 search. He first effected an opening through the 
 metal, and then began to enlarge this with his chisels 
 aud saws. He thought well to give the edges of the 
 opening an irregular aud ragged appearance. 
 
 " Should investigation ever arise," he said to him- 
 self, ' the cut will be attributed to lightning." 
 
 His saw presently ran against a stout brace inside 
 the metal sheathing. It incommoded him greatly, in 
 the section he was trying to cut out, and, unable to 
 avoid it, he at length cut squarely across it, dividing 
 it. From time to time, as he wrought, an illuminat- 
 ing flash of lightning showed him the city, spread out 
 far below his dizzy height, and anon the darkness 
 swallowed it up again, as if it had been only a vision. 
 By turns his hand seemed endowed with an unnatural 
 strength by the stimulus of the reward so near at 
 hand, and again it was all but nerveless and incapable. 
 A long probe he carried finally struck something 
 hard within, which he knew to be the box containing 
 the documents. The focus of his hopes and fears, the 
 pivotal point of his imagination and his destiny for 
 so long a period, was reached. He had but to stretch 
 forth and grasp the" prize. He drew back a little to 
 wipe his brow, braced himself more firmly, and pre- 
 pared to do so. 
 
 But at this very moment his forces failed, and he 
 succumbed to an overpowering sense of exhaustion. 
 Overtasked nature could do no more. If the prom-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 327 
 
 ised reward had been infinitely greater, he could not 
 have secured it. Hardly knowing how, he slipped 
 and fell, rather than climbed, down his ladder, and lay 
 supine, more dead than alive, on the narrow cornice 
 ledge once more. The rain still pelted him, but he 
 paid it no heed. 
 
 He rose, after a time, and feebly renewed the strug- 
 gle ; but the conviction was remorselessly forced up- 
 on him that his labors were vain, and the attempt 
 must be put off to another occasion. By what miracle 
 was it that he was able at last to effect his retreat ? 
 He decorously covered, too, all his tracks, taking great 
 pains to hide his ladder and other properties in the 
 vacant attics, where they would be secure from sight. 
 He made his way painfully downward by the same 
 long and devious route, stole as before along the great 
 dark corridors, and entered once more his own office. 
 He was so exhausted by overwhelming fatigue that^ 
 he had scarce left in his body capacity for any effort, 
 or in his brain for a lucid idea. Hardly was he there, 
 when, throwing himself down, he was lost in pro- 
 found slumber. 
 
 Paul Barclay, as a means of tiding over the dreary 
 period of probation, had thrown himself most energet- 
 ically, of late, into the duties of his new official posi- 
 tion. All was arranged between him and Mrs. Var- 
 emberg ; they belonged to each other, and nothing 
 could ever sunder them, but still they were kept 
 apart. Each day in succession he had hung upon the 
 prospect of hearing some favorable tidings from her,
 
 328 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 and day after day had been disappointed. So long a 
 time had elapsed, with all these delays, that his pri- 
 vate view \vus that the narrow conventionality which 
 would have prevented the announcement of their en- 
 gagement to the world, provided they had received 
 the coveted permission, need have little further bind- 
 ing force ; but this permission was still withheld. 
 Mrs. Varemberg had checked her lover's impatience, 
 more than once, with her appeal : " Let us be wiser 
 than he, dear Paul. It is for a lifetime." 
 
 It seemed fair, at least, to await the end of these 
 political complications, but Barclay was vaguely op- 
 pressed by fears and premonitions of new forms of evil. 
 He found himself affected by somewhat the same un- 
 easy feeling as the commander who, though sending 
 his squadrons in pursuit of a flying enemy, cannot be 
 wholly sure that the victory may not yet be wrested 
 from him, in some unexpected quarter. 
 
 On a certain night, he had returned to his lodging 
 at a late hour. He was fatigued with a hard day's 
 work in inspecting the scene of proposed street open- 
 ings in the northern part of the town, and had more 
 of the same awaiting him on the morrow, but he was 
 unable to sleep. To relieve his wakefulness, he arose 
 at intervals, and read and wrote, or meditatively 
 paced the floor. It so happened, on this account, 
 that he was at the window of his chamber towards 
 the hour of three in the morning. He threw up the 
 sash, though it was raining heavily, and looked forth 
 into the night, to cool the fever in his head. He said 
 to himself complaiuingly that there was something
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 329 
 
 oppressive and portentous in the atmosphere, some- 
 thing sultry even in the rain. He distinctly felt cur- 
 rents of air blow alternately warm and cool on his 
 face. There had been many things, in fact, rather ab- 
 normal about the season. There had been not only a 
 peculiar spring, but a peculiar summer. Nothing, he 
 thought, seemed any longer as it used to be. There 
 had been, of late, eclipses, solar and lunar, and ex- 
 traordinary auroral displays. A large, greenish me- 
 teor had passed over, and burst with a loud report. 
 Tornadoes had been noted in the lower part of the 
 State, considerably out of their usual course. Fortu- 
 nately, they never came to Keevvaydin. These por- 
 tents, it may be said, in passing, seemed to warm the 
 very cockles of the heart of old Fahnenstock. That 
 veteran workman appeared almost gleeful in the con- 
 viction that the world was now coming to its end, in 
 very short order, albeit he was himself enjoying the 
 most comfortable existence he had ever known, in 
 the little cottage at Whitefish Bay, to which he had 
 been assisted by Paul Barclay. 
 
 But of Fahnenstock more anon. As Barclay now 
 looked from his window, raising his eyes aloft, he all 
 at once fancied he saw gleams of reddish light playing 
 about the base of the Golden Justice. It was not 
 lightning : it was much too feeble and too deliberate, 
 even while fitful, for that. He had looked out at the 
 time when David Lane was cautiously availing him- 
 self of his dark lantern. 
 
 " Can it be electric fires ? Is the air so full of elec- 
 tricity as that ? " speculated Barclay.
 
 330 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 The storm centre was moving hither. There came 
 presently some flashes of real lightning, flashes of 
 an unusually vivid sort, that made all the raindrops 
 glitter on the background of the night like showers 
 of falling diamonds. Its illumination showed, too, 
 the little park across the way, and the city hall in 
 every detail. The statue on its dome was as effulgent 
 as at noonday ; and then strange illusion ! there 
 was the figure of a man with a ladder, crouched dark- 
 ly at the foot of it. Barclay rubbed his eyes in as- 
 tonishment, and waited for new flashes. He took up 
 his field-glass, which lay conveniently at hand, and 
 devoted himself to a steady examination. For a little 
 time, by the fitful illuminations, the shape seemed 
 still there ; and, stranger yet, wilder yet (was there 
 ever a madder conceit ? ), it had a far-off resemblance 
 to David Lane. The coruscations of lightning grew 
 farther apart, as Barclay watched so eagerly. The 
 sky cleared somewhat behind the statue, and aided 
 the view ; but now, rub his eyes as he would, he could 
 see nothing of the figure; it had disappeared. 
 
 " Pshaw ! " he muttered, turning away. " It was 
 some deceptive trick of the light, or of my own imag- 
 ination." 
 
 He soon went back to bed, and, to make up for 
 his late vigils, he slept heavily in the morning, and 
 did not awake till an advanced hour. He had a drive 
 of considerable extent before him, to inspect, as mem- 
 ber of the aldermanic committee, a right of way to be 
 acquired for the purpose of bringing in a small, clear 
 lake at the northward, to add to the water supply of
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 331 
 
 the city. Just as he had completed his preparations 
 for it, a message was brought him from Mrs. Var- 
 emberg, anxiously worded, and asking him to come 
 to her as soon as possible. He accordingly drove 
 to her house before he should set out upon his ex- 
 pedition. 
 
 Meanwhile, the rosy-fingered Aurora, and the less 
 rosy-fingered hours of the later morning as well, had 
 looked in upon David Lane, and passed over his 
 lethargic slumbers without awaking him. There 
 might even have been some heavy knocks at his door, 
 and fumbling by the janitor's duplicate key, without 
 his hearing them. When he again set foot in the 
 corridors of the city hall all the ordinary business of 
 the day had long been in progress. Those halls 
 showed no trace of his expedition ; it had passed 
 through them like a bad dream. Lane himself could 
 hardly believe it. But its reality was impressed upon 
 him anew, when, evading the demands that presented 
 themselves to his attention, he went forth, and again 
 looked up at the Golden Justice. His head was yet 
 heavy, and he was sore in all his bones. The hard 
 ordeal was to be repeated. 
 
 " Courage ! " he tried to say to himself bravely. 
 " The prize is so nearly won, and this is to be the 
 end of it all." 
 
 He sent home word that he had passed the night at 
 his office at the city hall, and was still detained by a 
 press of important business. Not precisely rejoicing 
 like a strong man to run his race, he yet proceeded 
 to treat himself like an athlete in training. He
 
 332 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 breakfasted at the Telson House, took a warm bath 
 later on, and then went to the office he kept for his 
 private business. He locked himself in there, and 
 went to sleep again ; and, thus refreshed, finally re- 
 turned, in the afternoon, to his duties as mayor, to 
 await the opportunity for his new attempt. It was 
 his intention to go no more to his own house and 
 not to face his daughter again till the deed was done. 
 Then he should meet with her on a far different 
 footing. 
 
 Mrs. Varemberg tearfully related to Barclay, when 
 he reached her, the interview at which we have as- 
 sisted. She had conceived a harrowing new fear, 
 arising from her father's conduct throughout, and 
 especially from the circumstances attending his last 
 agitated departure from the house. 
 
 " Surely no one in his right mind would act so," 
 she said. " It is not like him. I hardly dare tell 
 you what I dread. His bodily infirmities, the elec- 
 tion, all these heavy burdens he has chosen to take 
 upon himself Oh, he is, he must be, very ill. I 
 cannot but think, terrible as it is to have to suggest it 
 to you, or to admit it to myself, that his faculties are 
 failing, and may already be permanently overthrown, 
 "tt ill you not go to him ? Perhaps you can ascertain 
 his condition. He passed the night at his office at the 
 city hall, and has not returned." 
 
 " He passed the night at the city hall?" said Bar- 
 clay, echoing her words. 
 
 " Yes," she returned. "Ah, you see I was right
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 333 
 
 to be alarmed. Will you not go and try to do some- 
 thing to keep him from such extremes ? " 
 
 But Barclay was thinking of his vision or halluci- 
 nation of the night before. It was a startling coinci- 
 dence, to say the least. He was on the point of tell- 
 ing her the whole story, but something checked it on 
 his lips. Could it be that David Lane was insane, 
 and the most mystic and desperate of somnambulists ? 
 No_, that figment of the night was too utter a piece 
 of folly in every aspect, and he dismissed it from his 
 mind. 
 
 Nor was he greatly disposed to share her misgiv- 
 ings as to her father's sanity. His bitterness ready, 
 finally, to break over all bounds attributed it rather 
 to the prejudice of which he had so long been the 
 object. 
 
 The business upon which Barclay was bound was 
 of an exacting sort, that could not be neglected. But 
 after that was over, upon his return, he would endure 
 no more shilly-shally, suspense, persecution, in the 
 principal affair of his life. The election was over ; 
 filial deference had already been carried to an un- 
 warrantable extreme ; the time for decided and vigor- 
 ous action was at hand. 
 
 " Can you not come with me ? " he asked. " We 
 have so much to talk over together, all our future to 
 plan." 
 
 In the midst of their deliberations a new message 
 arrived from David Lane, to say that he was quite 
 well ; that he need not be expected to dine or sup at 
 home that day, but no one was to have a moment's
 
 334 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 uneasiness on bis account. The entirely sane and 
 easy character of the wording decided Mrs. Yarem- 
 berg. 
 
 " I will go with you," she said. 
 
 The conveyance of Barclay was exchanged for her 
 own, and Castor and Pollux once more drew them. 
 Mrs. Clinton, who dared not object, though even 
 kept in the dark as she was to the graver aspects of 
 the affair she thought she ought to, said, with a 
 feeble affability, that perhaps they would see some- 
 thing of Mrs. Radbrook's out-of-door fete at Inge- 
 brand's on the Lake. 
 
 It was very long since the couple had been out 
 together, and they were now soon bowling along the 
 pleasant upper country roads, much in their old way.
 
 XVI. 
 
 THE POWERS OF THE AIR. 
 
 A KEEN enjoyment of nature was one of the ties 
 that bound them together, and there was much in the 
 drive to-day to gratify this taste. Dismissing their 
 graver cares at times, they reveled almost like chil- 
 dren in the short respite thus granted them, and 
 talked of the blue lake, the trivial sights and figures 
 met with by the way, and of the wealth of the June 
 roses. 
 
 Their last excursion had been a very brief one, 
 when the orchards were in flower. They recalled it 
 now. It was the season of paradise upon earth, if 
 paradise there ever be. How lovely the branches of 
 fragrant blossoms had been, flung broadcast against 
 the blue lake ; how enchanting the rolling clouds, the 
 fresh pastures, the grayish-green fields of grain ruf- 
 fled by the breeze ! 
 
 The country was now in the full luxuriance of sum- 
 mer. The clouds to-day again were particularly fine, 
 and, as our friends drove onward, it was no small part 
 of their pleasure to watch, piled up before them, those 
 airy peaks, stupendous cliffs and gorges, dazzling min- 
 arets and domes, and fantastic shapes of animal life, 
 that realize the phantasmagoria of dreams. 
 
 " Perhaps one should live only amid the most
 
 336 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 beautiful scenery," began Barclay, in a speculative 
 way he had, which generally meant nothing more 
 than some ingenious theory of the moment. " Per- 
 haps he ought to pick out the most attractive spot on 
 earth, and spend his days there exclusively. If this 
 should not happen to consist with the other so-called 
 duties of life, so much the worse for them. There 
 ought always to be mountains on the horizon : it is 
 like having a high ideal in sight, even though we 
 never reach it. Thus the hours of the day would 
 pass like the stanzas of a beautiful poem." 
 
 " And how as to society, in this etysium, provided 
 it could be managed? " 
 
 " There ought to be absolute solitude," he declared 
 positively ; " that is to say, solitude a deux. The 
 philosopher he I for you see I speak for 
 myself ought to have only the dearest being in ex- 
 istence beside him. as I have now, and all the other 
 billions of the population might cease to exist." 
 
 Certain random verses came into his head, and he 
 quoted from Theocritus : 
 
 " Not Pelops' realm be mine, nor heaps of gold, 
 Nor speed fleet as the wind, but by this rock 
 To sing, and clasp my darling, and behold 
 The sea's blue reach and many a pasturing flock." 
 
 He accentuated the end with a caress. 
 
 He had a way of making love to her a tender- 
 ness mingling with his manly strength, and height- 
 ened, perhaps, by his reputation for reserve with 
 others, of which we have spoken that inexpress- 
 ibly charmed her. He had, for her. ways and epi-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 337 
 
 thets of devotion that lingered in her memory long 
 after he had gone, and sometimes caused her to fall 
 into moods of delicious day-dreaming, with half-shut 
 eyes. There were times when her heart went out to 
 him with such an ineffable expansion that it would 
 have seemed positive pleasure to endure tortures for 
 his sake. Nor, though kept apart in reality, had they 
 been so in mind and soul, during their period of pro- 
 bation. They could not sufficiently embrace each 
 other in ardent written words. The privilege of 
 pouring out to each other in this way their long 
 pent-up feelings was too precious a one to be fore- 
 gone. Tender epistles had constantly been exchanged 
 between them. 
 
 " I am like the historical lover, who went away 
 from his mistress to write to her," wrote Barclay on 
 one occasion. " I observe that I stay as long as pos- 
 sible, however, before going, and he no doubt did the 
 same thing." 
 
 " I am sure the post-office is positively ashamed of 
 me" said Mrs. Varemberg. " I should never dare 
 face my letter-carrier, and I trust he has little idea 
 of what kind of a person it is who sits trembling 
 above-stairs while the missives are brought up by the 
 servant, whom I have induced to be discreet about 
 them, that they may not be too much scrutinized by 
 the rest of the household. Do you suppose he could 
 possibly find out who it is that deposits the principal 
 contents of his letter-box at the corner ? " 
 
 There had been letters and notes at irregular hours, 
 and in all sorts of informal shapes. There had been
 
 338 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 some dated at midnight, others at two and three 
 o'clock in the morning, and at daylight. The writ- 
 ers set forth their last waking thoughts at night or 
 first in the morning, or took the occasion of many 
 sleepless vigils to dwell upon some new phase or de- 
 tail of their absorbing passion. There had been a 
 long one, chiefly anxious and melancholy, from 31 rs. 
 Varemberg, in the journal form, some part of it be- 
 ing done in nearly every successive hour of the day. 
 Once, when Barclay was absent from town, there had 
 arrived from him, three all at once. These had been 
 mailed by him at different times, but were brought, as 
 it chanced, from the small place where he was, at the 
 same time. 
 
 " I had no means of distinguishing one from the 
 other, at first," the dear recipient had told him, " so I 
 opened and read them one by one. Then I read 
 them again in their proper order, getting thus a double 
 and unexpected pleasure from them, don't you see ? 
 And oh! then I read them over again a hundred 
 times, as I always do, and kissed them, and thanked 
 God for his goodness to me, and my heart was full to 
 overflowing with my pride and delight in you and the 
 love you bear me." 
 
 In this delicious intoxication, which is said to 
 be even sweeter to be possessed by than to inspire, 
 a rapture with pain in ils pleasure, they wished well 
 to each other with an intensity far beyond the poor 
 limit of mere human expression or performance. 
 
 It was natural enough, on a day like this, that there 
 should be iteration of these words of fondness, for-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 339 
 
 ever trite, yet touched with living fire, though for- 
 mal propriety was imposed upon their actions by the 
 public gaze. They passed from grave to gay. They 
 began to formulate their plan of life. Barclay said 
 they were no longer children, to be kept apart by the 
 caprices of others. He would seek David Lane, in a 
 filial interview, when he got back, his ire awoke at 
 the recollection, and after that they would endure 
 no further opposition. Florence must be his own ; 
 he insisted upon it. Let the world at last know it. 
 They dwelt upon the future in detail. It had always 
 been one of Barclay's ideas to build a house, and in- 
 corporate into it his favorite notions. They would 
 do that. They thought they would arrange their life 
 somewhat like that of the Radbrooks. They would 
 not know too many people. They pronounced it 
 frittering and destructive of the best objects of social 
 intercourse. A part of their time they would give to 
 travel. Paul Barclay wished to revisit with her some 
 of the places where he had been so unhappy on her 
 account, to remove, as it were, an undeserved stigma 
 he had attached to them. And, then, they both 
 meant to be better, morally. It is one of the aspira- 
 tions of such an affection that it aims to secure not 
 only time, but eternity. They meant to keep their 
 minds only upon high and noble things. 
 
 " I shall help you in all your projects and labors," 
 insisted Mrs. Varemberg. " You must make a name, 
 and be known far and wide for your abilities and 
 your goodness of heart, as I know you." 
 
 But oh, best of all! oh, inexpressible delight! 
 they were to be always together.
 
 340 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " Every day, on my return," thought Barclay, with 
 subtle thrills of rapture, " I shall find her there await- 
 ing me." He could only think of her as an influence 
 to dissipate every sorrow and redouble every joy. 
 
 She in like manner thought of those comings- 
 home, when she was to tell him all the events of the 
 day, even to those of no importance. The prospect 
 had all the keener zest for her, from her previous 
 unhappy experience. She dreamed the sweet, femi- 
 nine dream of the inseparable companion and friend, 
 the strong protector who would banish fear. She 
 would look her best, talk her best ; she meant to tell 
 him everything ; she would prepare loving surprises 
 for him. Ah, yes, much as he had seen, she knew 
 some ingenuity would remain to her to do this. In ' 
 his strength her weakness and trouble would disap- 
 pear, her past would be forgotten. 
 
 " We will rule the world, my loved one, my sweet 
 one," pronounced Barclay, in one of his moments 
 of high enthusiasm. " Yes, we will yet throne it to- 
 gether, like Antony and Cleopatra." 
 
 " Dear heart, I fear I shall play but a sorry Cleo- 
 patra to your highness's Antony. I often have to 
 think what a poor, weak creature I am still ; and, 
 after all, I suppose even happiness will not impera- 
 tively cause one's health and strength to be restored." 
 
 "I will see to it; I take it upon myself," he re- 
 turned, with the heartiest reassurance. " You are 
 going to be young and strong and blooming. Trust 
 me with it ; it is not longer your affair. We have 
 most of life yet before us. All shall go well. Noth- 
 ing shall keep our happiness from us."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 341 
 
 " I have often thought of asking you to put me 
 out of your life, even now, and to forget me," peiv 
 sisted Mrs. Varemberg, half despondently. There 
 seemed to be something in the air that furthered it. 
 ' ; Who knows what misfortunes will yet happen ? 
 I distract you from your own best interests and from 
 useful work. I am not worth it." 
 
 "You do not love me when you talk so. I have 
 no interests but you. I could not forget you." 
 
 " If I thought you could I should die. I will try 
 to be all that you desire. I shall not be what you 
 ought to have, but you must have patience with me." 
 
 The business that brought Barclay to the vicinity 
 of the little rural inland lake was duly finished, and 
 they turned homeward. The -clouds they had so 
 much admired, on their way up, had, for some time 
 past, been acting rather strangely. The tops of all 
 the battlements and peaks were blown off, and their 
 general mass was driven about in confusion, as by 
 strong upper currents, while the air at the surface of 
 the earth was abnormally calm. There was a cer- 
 tain oppressiveness at intervals, almost a difficulty in 
 breathing, that recalled to Barclay his feelings of the 
 night before. 
 
 They had planned to stop a moment, in passing, at 
 the new cottage of Fahnenstock, on the Whitefish 
 Bay road, considering that it was exactly in their 
 way. A peculiarly interesting family was assembled 
 there just at present. Besides old Fahnenstock him- 
 self, who, being a bachelor, could not very well at- 
 tend to his own comfort, it comprised the Me-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 Clarys, whom lie had brought there to keep house 
 for him during the summer months. It was an ex- 
 cellent place for the babies, who were already fat 
 and rosy. The young wife, whom we have seen 
 pinched and faded, was recovering her spirits and 
 good looks. The enterprising McClary had set up 
 the little shop for which he had wished, near the 
 city limits, and was now absent there. And then 
 there was a spinster sister of Mrs. McClary, a person 
 apparently of much executive ability and natural 
 thrift. She had but lately come to these parts, hav- 
 ing been blown out of house and home, it was said, 
 by a tornado in Missouri or Kansas, where her fam- 
 ily had lived. It appeared that Fahnenstock was 
 quite taken with this spinster sister, and some of the 
 waggish thought that, after all his long years of bach- 
 elorhood, the two might yet make a match of it. 
 
 But even more important figures than these were 
 a young bridal couple, William Alfsen and his wife. 
 Yes, Alfsen and Stanislava Zelinsky were at last 
 united, and, as it happened, were passing a day or 
 two of their honeymoon here. It had come about 
 through Ludvvig Trapschuh. Furious at her for hav- 
 ing given evidence against him at the trial, he had 
 made her life so unendurable that she had finally 
 left her home and sought a refuge elsewhere. She 
 had repaired first to Mrs. Varemberg, who received 
 her kindly, and found her occupation, and a tempo- 
 rary abiding-place with the McClarys. During all 
 this time, however, she would not marry her lover. 
 "With some curious ideas of the binding force of re-
 
 THE GOLDEN JU STICK. 343 
 
 lationship, she obstinately refused him till the consent 
 of her uncle, her guardian and the authoritative head 
 of her family, could be obtained, and there was no 
 prospect whatever that that irate person would con- 
 sent. Her sighing swain was in despair ; but cir- 
 cumstances had favored him, the obstacle had disap- 
 peared of its own accord, and they had married two 
 days before. David Lane had seen to it that they 
 had a handsome gift from him, disguising it partly as 
 a subscription to the fund to Alfsen for his services 
 in the great river fire. 
 
 The impolicy and fruitlessness of opposition grad- 
 ually impressed Trapschuh. Reports of the growing 
 prosperity of Alfsen reached his ears. Still, he was 
 not thoroughly humbled till he lost his place on the 
 Chippewa Street bridge. Though no political pro- 
 scription was declared, as has been said, an example 
 was made of a few of those holding public office, who 
 had been most prominent in the frauds, and the of- 
 fense of Trapschuh had been so flagrant that no one 
 could say anything in his favor. At the moment 
 that he was coming out of the Board of Public 
 Works, after hearing his sentence of dismissal, it 
 was on the day succeeding David Lane's installation, 
 he met Alfsen face to face. He all at once as- 
 sumed before him as humble an air as Haman, after 
 his overthrow, might have taken before Mordecai. 
 
 " I always bin friend o' yours, Billy," he. said ob- 
 sequiously, " though sometimes I guess may be you 
 don't always know it. I never got no sure objections 
 that you get married with Stanislava. She got pretty
 
 o-l 1 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 bad temper, that 's so ; but she can come back to my 
 house, if she want, and you can get married with her 
 any time what you like. I say, Billy, you could n't 
 get a feller out o' work some kind o' good job, could 
 you ? " 
 
 Alfsen let no grass grow under his feet, but imme- 
 diately proceeded to have this authorization confirmed 
 in the presence of his sweetheart, and they were mar- 
 ried forthwith. 
 
 This case, among the rest, had made conversation 
 for Barclay and Mrs. Varemberg, as they approached 
 the cottage. The ppposition of Ludwig Trapschuh 
 struck them both as a sort of parody of that to which 
 they too had been so long subjected. They recognized 
 an echo, as it were, of the same note. 
 
 " I wonder if we shall have to wait till David Lane 
 is overthrown and wrecked, in some wholesale col- 
 lapse, before we can expect to have his objections 
 withdrawn ? " suggested Barclay, with half-humor- 
 ous lightness. " That would need a long delay in- 
 deed." 
 
 All the men of the house were, at present, away at 
 their work ; only the women were at home. But 
 the women warmly did the honors of the place. 
 They ran into the garden and plucked its fairest 
 flowers, with a reckless hospitality, to press upon the 
 visitors. There had been bushes of fragrant svriuea 
 
 i O 
 
 and lilacs already in the yard, and the new tenants 
 had added roses, and especially a double row of tu- 
 lips, flanking the path from the gate to the door. 
 These flowers, vividly glowing with their various
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 345 
 
 hues of scarlet and yellow, were most trimly kept, 
 and every foot of the small domain gave evidence 
 that pains were being taken to develop its utmost 
 capabilities. 
 
 Hardly was this cottage reached, however, when 
 there came on a thunder-storm, that had been for 
 some time threatening, and all were driven for a 
 brief space within-doors. The rain very slight in 
 quantity was accompanied by violent hail ; the 
 dash of cold in the sherbet of the summer day. The 
 flower-beds, so shapely but a few moments before, 
 were much broken down, and presented to view 
 numbers of the charming tulips sadly hanging their 
 heads. Hailstones had fallen, on this occasion, of 
 sizes variously estimated according to the current 
 way of measuring at from " as large as a hen's 
 egg to as large as a man's fist." In the suburbs of 
 the town, at the same time, one mass of compacted ice 
 had fallen, estimated to be as large as a man's head. 
 
 When the guests came forth to resume their jour- 
 ney, the storm had passed over ; the sun was shining 
 through broken clouds, still in turmoil, and all nature 
 looked fresher and greener for its late ablutions. 
 The enterprising spinster sister of Mrs. McClary 
 came out with them. Looking up at the heavens, 
 shading her wrinkling forehead with her hand, she 
 felt moved to say, " 'Pears as if them clouds looked 
 like some we used to have down in our couutry. 
 There 's a kind o' curious feelin' in the air, these last 
 few days, anyway. Down there, we should V called 
 it tornader weather."
 
 346 THI-: GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " But we do not have them, fortunately," said Bar- 
 clay. " You must not let that make you uneasy here." 
 
 " No, of course not ; but the wind 's ben to the 
 south'ard so long, till to-day, when it come round, 
 an' no rain, though the clouds has gathered up every 
 day and tried to give some, that it 's looked to me 
 more 'n once just as it used to down in Kansas. But 
 of course they don't get as far north as this," she 
 concluded. 
 
 Getting under way again, Mrs. Varemberg and 
 Barclay came presently to the spot, at no great dis- 
 tance from town, where Mrs. Radbrook was giving 
 
 O O 
 
 the garden-party mentioned by Mrs. Clinton. This 
 was Ingebrand's on the Lake, a pretty spot, left 
 much in its condition of natural wildness, which was 
 patronized in a quiet way by people driving out from 
 town. It was distinguished from Ingebrand's on the 
 River, another resort of the same kind, much fre- 
 quented by pleasure-parties of rowers, whereas there 
 was but little rowing on the Jake, which was gener- 
 ally esteemed too rough and uncertain for that sport. 
 A touch of romance hung about Ingebrand's on the 
 Lake, some legend of a countess who had once oc- 
 cupied the rural dwelling on the grounds, when it 
 was a simple farm-house. It appeared that this Mrs. 
 Radbrook was noted for originality in her entertain- 
 ments, which she but rarely gave, and which were 
 the more highly esteemed on that account. Follow- 
 ing some precedent abroad, she had taken this pleas- 
 ant spot to-day for her exclusive use, and promised 
 to turn its attractions, together with those of the sea-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 347 
 
 son, to account, in a charming fete champetre. She 
 had set up a number of pretty tents and pavilions, of 
 gayly decorated canvas. In a large pavilion, open 
 to the water, an attractive collation was prepared. 
 The tents and waving pennants, with the summer 
 costumes of the ladies intermingled, upon the back- 
 ground of the moor and varied shrubbery, made a 
 gay and dainty scene, such as a Rossi, of the Span- 
 ish-Roman school, might have painted. 
 
 Our friends had already met some representatives 
 from the fete, taking merry drives farther up the 
 road. They had been adjured not to miss it, and 
 now civilly stopped at it, but only for the very brief- 
 est moment. Mrs. Varemberg was in mourning, and 
 had no need to plead any excuse for not participating 
 further in the entertainment. Their presence to- 
 gether was gossiped about, as it would naturally be 
 in such a company, but there was no severity in the 
 tone. The true state of the case had begun to get , 
 abroad, as, in some mysterious way, such things 
 always will, and people invested them with a certain 
 poetry and pleasant interest. That is to say, it was 
 known that Barclay was an old lover, that he had 
 been unhappy, and that he had been true and high- 
 minded as well throughout most trying circumstances. 
 The critics at the Saturday Morning Club and the 
 charitable guild now admitted that he was probably 
 a man of flesh and blood, like others, and they se- 
 cretly admired him the more for his stout fidelity to 
 a forlorn, almost desperate ideal. 
 
 The two had left the fete but a little behind, when
 
 348 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 the threatening aspect of the weather impressed itself 
 upon them. No engrossment with their own affairs 
 could have wholly withdrawn their attention from the 
 amazing panorama that began to unroll itself in the 
 heavens. 
 
 It was no ordinary storm that was impending. 
 The entire masses of broken clouds had gathered and 
 distributed themselves into two hostile camps, over 
 against each other, in opposite quarters of the sky. 
 After gathering thus, a most turbulent commotion 
 broke out among them, and they began to approach 
 each other as in battle-array. Their rate of motion 
 increased, and, as they drew near, lightnings darted 
 from one to the other. 
 
 " Look ! look ! " suddenly exclaimed Mrs. Varem- 
 berg, in consternation. They had been urging their 
 pace to the utmost, to seek a place of safety. Blasts 
 of hot air had smitten their faces, followed immedi- 
 ately by others so cold that they involuntarily drew 
 their wraps closer around them. 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! " cried Barclay, unable to refrain from 
 almost as much agitation as his fair companion. 
 
 They were in the presence of the dread tornado. 
 
 The spinster sister of the McClarys, whose words 
 had, perhaps, seemed even to herself only desultory 
 chatter, was right. One of those rare visitants had 
 come far to the northward of its usual course, and, 
 like some fell marauder, seeking new and untried 
 fields to foray, was about to swoop down, bringing 
 ruin and dismay upon a locality that had hitherto 
 given no thought to this form of danger.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 349 
 
 The great plain of the Mississippi Valley is the 
 theatre where these mighty forces, created by the 
 torrid winds from the equator and the cold from the 
 poles, meet and struggle for the mastery. That vast 
 unimpeded stretch, the inhabitants of which pay a 
 woful price in lives and treasure for the gladiatorial 
 shows they witness, is the " battle-ground of the tor- 
 nadoes." Here the detail of the phenomenon was 
 the same as it was wont to be there. Rain had been 
 lacking for a very long time past : a veritable drought 
 had been threatened. The barometer, to-day, stood 
 remarkably low. A swift current of wind in the up- 
 per air was blowing southward, while that at the sur- 
 face of the earth was northward. 
 
 The sudden sharp exclamation of Mrs. Varemberg 
 had been drawn forth by the meeting of the great 
 opposing cloud-masses. From their point of junc- 
 tion dropped down a strange and ominous funnel of 
 dark and murky vapor. Some described it as shaped 
 like a wicker basket ; others, as like a snake, the head 
 of which was held up in the sky, while the body 
 writhed and lashed about below. At any rate, this 
 definite form began to turn round upon itself, with a 
 rapid gyratory motion, and at the same time to pro- 
 gress in a right line, taking its direction towards the 
 northeast. A violent boiling movement could be ob- 
 served within it, and it was presently filled with flying 
 debris of every kind, caught up by the suction into 
 its destroying vortex. The small end of its funnel 
 dangled just above the ground, and it had a way of 
 striking and rebounding as if highly elastic.
 
 350 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 The domes of Keewaydin were now visible, but no 
 promising point of escape from such a peril appeared 
 over a wide intervening stretch. The couple drew 
 up, upon a high ground, the better to mark the route 
 of the tornado, and thus determine their own. The 
 dread scourge struck the city, here and there, as in 
 selected spots, under their very eyes. It was like 
 some stinging whip-lash of the gods, whirled with an 
 avenging purpose. Wherever it touched, devastation 
 followed. Steeples and turrets were seen to go down, 
 and the fragments of roofs to whirl into the air. 
 Bells struck of themselves, with a lugubrious sound. 
 There was smoke, as from the shells of a bombard- 
 ment ; but the thickest of this was when some of the 
 flouring-mills along the river were wrecked, and a 
 choking white powder filled the air. 
 
 There were no buildings easy of access for the 
 refugees, and perhaps shelter ought not to be sought, 
 at such a time, even in the most solid of buildings. 
 It was uncertain what direction the desolating force 
 might finally take. Its rate of progress, now faster, 
 now slower, and again, for brief periods, coming to 
 almost an absolute stand-still, could be plainly traced ; 
 but what rule was to be laid down, by novices, for 
 this gigantic eddy in the ocean of air that beats on 
 the whole round world? Mrs. Varemberg sat pale 
 and trembling, her hand clasped in that of her lover. 
 They saw much to excite a reverent awe and dismay, 
 but fortunately they could not see all that was passing 
 in the town. 
 
 The tornado fell first upon the sparsely settled
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 351 
 
 region below the city limits on the South Side. There 
 it uprooted orchards, and beat down the soft earth of 
 gardens and ploughed lands till it seemed as if they 
 had been macadamized. It wrenched the very grass 
 from the ground, as by ravening teeth. It was not a 
 widespread and all -devouring force, however, but 
 moved in a narrow and well-defined path. Its area 
 of widest destruction was hardly more than three 
 hundred yards, while that of its greatest energy was, 
 perhaps, a hundred. It was in evidence afterwards 
 that at a quarter of a mile away one would not have 
 known what was in progress, and only a gentle breeze 
 fanned the brow. Next, it touched the line of the 
 city proper, and, as if at a given signal, every chim- 
 ney and turret went down. 
 
 Presently a minor funnel was seen to separate it- 
 self from the main one, and go whirling away on a 
 career of its own. This followed the ravine of So- 
 bieski Street to the right, unroofing or shattering to 
 pieces the Polish houses. Had the addresses of cer- 
 tain voters been looked for now, they would have 
 been missing indeed. The house of Ludwig Trap- 
 schuh was rapt into the air bodily, as on a magic 
 praying-carpet of the Arabian Nights ; and the pro- 
 prietor, not knowing it was in transit, for in the 
 few moments of the immediate passage of the storm- 
 cloud all was Plutonian darkness, attempting, in a 
 panic, to step out of his own front door, fell headlong 
 to the ground, a distance of some twenty feet, and 
 broke a leg and various ribs. 
 
 All the ordinary operations of the law of gravita-
 
 352 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 tion seemed suspended. All movable objects flew, as 
 if possessed by witchcraft, to an imperative centre of 
 attraction : heavy benches and tool-chests rose from 
 the ground, furniture and bedding leaped from .the 
 doors and windows, to join in the mad carnival. A 
 few hapless animals feeding in suburban pastures 
 suffered wofully. Cows and horses were driven, 
 dragged, and rolled away, against their utmost v resist- 
 ance, the hoof-marks in the ground showing, after- 
 wards, the desperate opposition they had made, and 
 were found with bones broken, or beaten to jelly and 
 left in a shapeless mass. Nor was it brute animals 
 alone that perished ; there were many human victims 
 as well. One of the poor Polish women, among 
 others, was found battered and dead, with her hair 
 twisted from her head, and lying in a sort of rope 
 beside her. The very soles of her shoes were torn 
 from her feet. 
 
 Many corpses were naked, and so ecchymosed, 
 the surgical term came to be freely used, discolored 
 by numberless bruises, that they might have been 
 taken for those of negroes. 
 
 Among the comic incidents, in this quarter, may be 
 mentioned that of the graceless young Barney Trap- 
 schuh. He was sitting loaferishly on a fence at the 
 time ; he made a long excursion into the air, leaving 
 shreds of his clothing on the roofs of houses and 
 trees over which he passed, and was cast down, cov- 
 ered with black mud, in a distant field. This was a 
 mud peculiar to the tornado : it was of the consist- 
 ency of paint, and was forced into the eyes, ears, and
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 353 
 
 nostrils, aud even the very pores of the skin so ener- 
 getically that it took weeks to eradicate. 
 
 The lesser funnel reached the shore. It danced 
 and spun there, for a brief space, among the sand- 
 dunes, like merry Pau-Puk-Keewis ; then, as a part- 
 ing bit of malice, wrecked a luckless shallop or two 
 it found abroad on the water, and was finally dissi- 
 pated in the lake. 
 
 The principal storm-cloud, however, kept on its 
 original course. A tithe of all its eccentric doings 
 could not be described. It lifted one of the German 
 turn-halls from its base, made it plough the ground for 
 many feet, and racked it completely to pieces. It cut 
 in two a railroad freight-house as cleanly as if with a 
 saw, leaving one half standing intact. A row of 
 boards, which had belonged to the other half, was 
 found set up in a circle, firmly driven iuto the ground, 
 some four miles from the original point of departure. 
 It did not respect even the time-honored Johaunis- 
 berger House. It raised up one end of that worthy 
 caravansary so high that the terrified inmates, who 
 had taken refuge in the cellar, reported that they had 
 glimpses of the prospect without, between the sill 
 and foundations ; but to make amends, it set it down 
 again nearly as good as ever. 
 
 The tornado apparently did not think all objects 
 alike deserving of its attention. It seemed to pick 
 and choose, and strike at notable points, as if to de- 
 cide the day by the fall of certain leaders, as in the 
 old combats of classic and mediaeval days.
 
 :;.-. 1 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " There goes St. Jude's ! " exclaimed Barclay, as 
 they saw its prominent spire enveloped in the fog, and, 
 the moment after, the distant jangle of bells came to 
 their ears. 
 
 And so it was. A small, panic-stricken congrega- 
 tion had assembled in the church of the Rev. Edward 
 Brockston, much as the early inhabitants of Brit- 
 ain fled to their sanctuaries for refuge from the fury 
 of the Northmen, on their coasts, when the whole 
 massive structure was rapt from over their heads, for- 
 tunately doing the inmates but little harm. With a 
 few mighty gyrations, the edifice was wrenched into 
 a tall pyramid of interwoven iron, timbers, stones, and 
 bricks, a more impressive monument of the resistless 
 power that had done it than any of the others left be- 
 hind. Next, the ruin of one of the mammoth grain 
 elevators co'uld be distinguished, and the yellow wheat 
 from it floated on the river and bay for many days 
 thereafter. The Chippewa Street bridge, in the vi- 
 cinity, though this they could not see, followed 
 suit. It was twisted, like the church, into a chaotic 
 mass of materials, and the whole unceremoniously 
 dumped into the stream. When it came to be rebuilt, 
 it may be here mentioned, it was on a new and hand- 
 somer model ; for a sentiment had arisen for making 
 these so necessary but unsightly bridges, of which the 
 lake towns are full, somewhat more in keeping with 
 the comely buildings and effects of street perspective 
 which abut upon them. 
 
 The very river-bed itself was exposed to view, and 
 a heavy column of water was lifted from it and pre-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 355 
 
 cipitated over the most proper district of the city, 
 the trim Seventh Ward itself. The sides of many 
 buildings in that quarter were so encrusted with river 
 slime, weeds, and shells that they took a decidedly 
 venerable and submarine aspect. It might have re- 
 called the story of the turbid douche given by the of- 
 fended elephant to the tailor who pricked his trunk 
 with a needle. 
 
 The storm-cloud, which had once or twice wavered 
 towards the city hall, and again away from it, was 
 now plainly seen to swoop down upon that important 
 structure, as if finally to claim it for its own. How 
 could the building fail to succumb ? Mrs. Varem- 
 berg's filial thoughts flew in terror to her father. At 
 such a moment every resentful impulse vanished be- 
 fore the dread of his personal danger. She stretched 
 forth her hand mutely in his direction, as to save him. 
 
 The turbulence and obscurity cleared away from 
 the point in question, and the civic building was seen 
 still standing. There was but one change, but this 
 a notable one, the twinkling Golden Justice had 
 disappeared from its dome. 
 
 " It stands firm, but I do not see the Golden Jus- 
 tice," said Barclay, straining his eyes painfully. 
 
 "Yes, it is surely gone," said his companion. 
 " There is not a trace of it. It is too bad, is it not ? " 
 
 Little time was afforded for comment on this or 
 any other phenomenon. The tornado, either satisfied 
 with its achievement or having met with a foe beyond 
 its strength, had the look of intending a new depart- 
 ure. It made one, in fact. It greatly increased its
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 rate of speed, and shaking off the dust of the town 
 from its feet, as it were, advanced upon the suburbs 
 and the open country northward. Our lookers-on rec- 
 ognized two men who came running breathlessly up 
 the slope. These were Fahnenstock and Alfseu, mak- 
 ing for their cottage, to be with the inmates in their 
 time of danger. 
 
 " Fly, fly for your lives ! " they shouted, in voices 
 hoarse with alarm, to those who lingered. " It is 
 coming this way." 
 
 Barclay had already turned the heads of the trem- 
 bling horses away from the tempest. A decisive 
 move now seemed necessary. He lashed Castor and 
 Pollux to their utmost speed, hoping to reach a certain 
 cross-road, which turned to the left, at a little distance. 
 Following this, they might cross the path of the dan- 
 ger, now that they distinctly knew what it was, and 
 place themselves out of its reach on the other side. 
 Looking, fearfully, back over their shoulders, how- 
 ever, they saw the tornado advancing by gigantic leaps 
 and bounds. It was evident that the cross-road could 
 not be reached in time. They came to a place where 
 a score or more of fugitives from Mrs. Radbrook's 
 
 o 
 
 fete were huddled confusedly, not knowing what to 
 do next. The fete had been stricken by panic. The 
 principal pavilion had been blown down, by a sudden 
 gust, upon the very heads of the banqueters, turning 
 the revelry into a Belshazzar's feast. Many had fled, 
 with a blind purpose of reaching town ; but arrived 
 thus far, they had stopped, and were awaiting the is- 
 sue in terrified suspense.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 357 
 
 The destroying force had at first followed the line 
 of the Keewaydin River ; then broken away from it, 
 and veered more to the eastward. Woe to any pleas- 
 ure skiffs abroad on the quiet, sylvan current that 
 day ! Woe to the vegetation, the gardens, the sum- 
 mer chalets, along the banks ! The very bluffs shook 
 under its tread. A roar as of ten thousand railway 
 trains, momentarily increasing, filled the air. 
 
 The couple alighted, and Barclay, loosing the 
 horses from the conveyance, quickly secured them to 
 a rail fence. Fahneustock and Alfsen had time to 
 come up and join them. The monstrous funnel cloud, 
 looming perhaps five hundred feet in the air, was so 
 near at hand that its texture could be plainly studied 
 by any bold eyes that dared to gaze upon it. Part of 
 it was fleecy white, as if the sun were shining in the 
 midst of it ; but the greater part was murky, lurid, or 
 of a greenish hue, like the thick, unwholesome smoke 
 of factories or chemical works. 
 
 " To the lake ! to the lake ! " cried alarmed voices. 
 Forthwith, a general stampede took place to an open 
 field. Most of the fugitives hurried to its verge, 
 above the lake shore, and there threw themselves on 
 the ground. Barclay tenderly aided the steps of her 
 who leaned upon him, and urged their pace to the ut- 
 most. 
 
 " Courage ! courage ! " he said, reassuringly. " A 
 moment more and we are safe. It will not follow 
 there ; I am sure of it." 
 
 " I am not afraid," she responded more than once. 
 " You are with me."
 
 TUB GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 Perhaps through the minds of both there passed 
 the same thought, that if this were to be indeed the 
 end of all things, it would he sweet to die together. 
 They would mitigate with their warm hand-clasps 
 the chill and dreary way to eternity. 
 
 The noise of the tempest increased to an awful 
 roar. Drops of a warm, viscid, loathsome mud fell 
 in their faces and on their clothing. Green leaves, 
 rent from their parent stems, were thicker in this 
 blast than are withered ones in autumn, and inter- 
 mingled with them were broken twigs, blossoms, 
 dead birds, and wraiths of mist. . A semi-obscurity 
 enveloped the refugees, while a vast wall of murky 
 blackness seemed about to overwhelm them. Bulky 
 objects, brought from afar, the impact of which would 
 have been sudden death, fell around them. There 
 were the figure-head and part of the forecastle of the 
 brig Orphan Boy, the cupola of the Johannisberger 
 House, and the refreshment-booth of Coffee John, a 
 great section of the metal cornice of the city hall, 
 and the tongue and wheels of a heavy baggage wa^on. 
 Though the wall of gloom at no time wholly over- 
 spread the party, it was night instead of day around 
 them. It seemed a time of almost Apocalyptic ter- 
 rors. The books of judgment were about to be 
 opened, and all the vials of wrath poured forth. 
 
 Old Fahnenstock began to pray aloud, possibly 
 with a trace of exultation, even in the midst of his 
 terror, that his appalling forecasts were at last about 
 to be realized. 
 
 "O all ye lightnings and clouds," he said, "bless 
 the Lord ; praise and exalt him above all forever ! "
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 359 
 
 " I am here," murmured Paul Barclay to his be- 
 loved companion. 
 
 " I do not fear," she returned. 
 
 If she trembled, it was with some involuntary phys- 
 ical tremor, but with none of the mind or heart. She 
 rested her head against his shoulder, and they waited 
 in the darkness. 
 
 " We are but as the chaff of the threshing floor, 
 before thee," Fahnenstock went on, sonorously. " He 
 made the midst of the furnace like a blowing wind. 
 Thy kingdom hath consumed all these kingdoms, and 
 it shall stand forever." 
 
 The tornado wrecked many large trees around the 
 field, so that their upper portions were found, after- 
 wards, whipped to shreds. William Alfsen, who was 
 a little in advance of the rest, and nearer to it, was 
 violently seized by a wandering gust, whirled twice or 
 thrice round a sapling to which he clung for support, 
 and was thrown to the ground. With this, however, 
 it seemed to have reached its farthest point. It was 
 perhaps checked in part by a stout quickset hedge, 
 bordering the other side of the highroad, with which 
 it wrestled furiously, and over which it paused for 
 some time, as if recognizing an enemy rather worthy 
 of its steel. A woful snapping and crackling, such as 
 might have been made by fire, was heard in this 
 hedge, and also a loud, sucking noise as the plants 
 were drawn bodily from the ground. They were par- 
 ticularly old and tough, and it was estimated by com- 
 petent judges that a greater force was required to 
 uproot them than the strongest oaks.
 
 360 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 The air again grew lighter. The baffled or capri- 
 cious visitant distinctly turned aside, struck a new 
 course, and began to move off to the northwestward. 
 The little group of fugitives dared not at once rise 
 from the ground, or credit the reality of their de- 
 liverance ; but when it was certain, they exchanged 
 the most joyful words and hand-shakings of congrat- 
 ulation. 
 
 The danger over and dazed faculties grown calmer, 
 the sky again appeared to threaten rain, and soon all 
 was haste and confusion to be back again in town. 
 Barclay found the horses he had tethered to the fence 
 severely maimed by falling debris, and rendered 
 wholly unserviceable. He was casting about to 
 make some disposition of Mrs. Varemberg, when the 
 Radbrooks drove up and offered her a vacant seat in 
 their carriage. They had waited not far from the 
 scene of the fete itself, and had escaped with perhaps 
 less inconvenience than any of their friends. Having 
 seen Mrs. Varemberg safely bestowed, Barclay, left 
 to his own resources, set out to walk. He had pro- 
 ceeded but a little way, when he was overtaken by a 
 man in a light spring wagon, who offered to take him 
 in. It proved to be Welby Goff, of the Index. Mi-. 
 Goff was in a very affable, chatty mood, and appar- 
 ently anxious to find some one to talk to about what 
 they had both witnessed. 
 
 " I Ve been canvassing a nursery and garden-seeds 
 place, out this way," he said, by way of explaining 
 his presence on the road. " I struck it for an article 
 and advertisement, and got 'em, too. After that, I
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 361 
 
 was just going to start over Wauwatosa way, where 
 I 've had a party on the string for some time, when I 
 saw this coming, and turned round. I 've watched it 
 all along the road, and had solid comfort out of it. I 
 knew from the first it was n't near enough to do me 
 any harm." 
 
 " You are a person of judgment." 
 
 " Judgment ? A newspaper man has to be. He 's 
 got to see how close he can run to some lively new 
 sensation all the time, and then stand out from under 
 before it has a chance to fall on him." 
 
 " We shall see some curious sights when we get to 
 town," suggested Paul Barclay. 
 
 " It will be a circus, and no mistake. I would n't 
 miss it for a farm. I 've seen some of the biggest 
 things there is, in my time, I make it a point to 
 keep posted, but probably this will lay way over 
 any of ? em." 
 
 " You don't let it depress your spirits, I see ? " 
 
 " Well, hardly. There 'snot much depress about 
 this ; it 's the biggest chance to pick up news items 
 that was ever struck. You want to look out for the 
 extra Index, these next few days, that 's all. It 
 will make your hair curl." 
 
 The retreating tornado moved slowly and in ever- 
 widening circles. As if fatigued with rapine and too 
 heavily gorged with all the spoil it had gathered, it 
 was continually throwing out, over its upper rim, a 
 rain of the smaller articles it had carried up to a great 
 height. 
 
 " Chucks 'em out in a kind o' lazy way, now that
 
 362 TUE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 it has n't any more use for 'em," commented the 
 amateur in large sights, in terms that well enough 
 described the phenomenon. " A fellow could prob- 
 ably pick up stuff of a good deal of value, if he had 
 time to attend to it," he went on ; " but /'ve got to 
 get back to town." 
 
 His eyes were actively on the alert, however, among 
 these objects, and he could not forbear getting down, 
 now and then, to forage a little. He made a pretext 
 of tightening a buckle or adjusting a strap on the 
 harness, as often as he did so. 
 
 There were, indeed, marvelous items to be told of 
 this day. The Index was to revel in them, and the 
 Johannisberger House to have stories for its gossips 
 for many a year to come. Miracles of delicacy as 
 well as incredible force had been wrought. Locomo- 
 
 O 
 
 tives had been raised into the air and mill-stones 
 broken asunder, at the same time that the fragile jars 
 of colored liquid in a druggist's window had been 
 spared, though buried under jagged rubbish. There 
 were startling anecdotes to be told of letters, of legal 
 documents, and of a packet of bank-bills wrenched out 
 of a safe. One of the parties to a lawsuit was as good 
 as served with a process of court that properly be- 
 longed to him. A long-remiss debtor, in Sheboygan 
 County, had his account brought by the wind from 
 the wrecked place of business of his creditor 
 thrown into his door-yard. Conscience-stricken, as 
 if at the direct interposition of Providence, he at last 
 hastened to town and paid it. A tin-type likeness 
 of a pretty girl, whisked from her home, was found
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 363 
 
 stuck by a sharp corner into the bark of a tree, far 
 away in the country. It happened that it was found 
 by a man of romantic tendencies, who was greatly 
 interested in the circumstance, and hunted up the 
 original of the picture, with such good results that a 
 marriage eventually took place between the two. 
 
 But all this was in the future, and yet to be col- 
 lected, wondered at, and dilated upon. 
 
 The newspaper man got down finally to pick up a 
 packet of official-looking documents that lay in the 
 road. A part of them had become loosened, and 
 were about to blow away. These eluded his grasp, 
 as he first stooped for them, but, persevering, secured 
 them with the rest. 
 
 "No great find here," he said, disappointedly, after 
 looking them over as he walked back to the wagon. 
 " Latest news from fifteen years ago. Here 's a 
 copy of the old Keewaydin Advertiser, ain't even 
 published now. Did you ever see it? Here's a 
 venerable old Chamber of Commerce report. These 
 must be some of the documents that were deposited 
 in the statue on the city hall. I recollect when she 
 was dedicated. They 've come quite a journey." 
 
 He tossed them all carelessly into Barclay's lap, 
 while he went round to the other side, to give a blow, 
 with a stone, to a bolt that had begun to shake it- 
 self loose. 
 
 Paul Barclay turned over these papers with a cer- 
 tain reverence and interest. The random prediction 
 of the old weather-vane maker, ridiculous as it 
 seemed, had come true, after all. The Golden Justice
 
 364 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 had fallen, and scattered her contents broadcast, and 
 here was the bulk of them, tossed at his very feet. 
 There was no doubt as to their identity ; each was 
 plainly marked with a stamp showing its origin. 
 Here was the copy of the school census, here the 
 Chamber of Commerce report, here the copy of the 
 ancient Examiner, here Suddenly he uttered a 
 smothered exclamation. He had come upon some- 
 thing interesting indeed. 
 
 He brushed away most of the others with an in- 
 voluntary movement, and devoted himself with all 
 his eyes to a paper bearing in a plain hand the in- 
 scription, The Confession of a Repentant Man. Be- 
 low this, as a secondary head, in equally legible 
 writing, was, Being a True Account of the Connec- 
 tion of David Lane with the Disaster at the Chip- 
 pewa Street Bridge, and the Deaths of Christopher 
 Barclay and Stanislaus Zelinsky. 
 
 " What 's the matter ? " asked his companion, who 
 had again mounted to his place beside him. 
 
 " I thought we were going to get another jolt," 
 said Barclay, and quickly changed the subject. The 
 wreck of a once beautiful dwelling, that lay close at 
 hand, afforded a ready diversion. A part of its ma- 
 terial was piled up like veritable cord-wood. The 
 ornamental trees in its spacious door-yard had been 
 torn to strings by the fury of the gale, and a few 
 pitiful rags of clothing fluttered from their bare 
 stems. Barclay screened his paper from observation 
 among the others, and managed to read it piecemeal. 
 He read it twice more, without exciting suspicion,
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 365 
 
 studied every sentence intently, and then secreted it 
 about his person. 
 
 How violently his heart beat as he read ! What 
 new light this strange history, so miraculously brought 
 to his knowledge, cast back over all the past ! How 
 many things it explained ! 
 
 And now what should he do ? Had the instrument 
 been delivered to him as the means of a just retribu- 
 tion ? Was he to arise, like another Hamlet, and 
 signally avenge the slaying of his father, and the 
 unmerited suffering so long visited upon himself ? 
 
 Whatever may have been his meditations, at the 
 conclusion of them his eyes gazed lovingly in the 
 direction in which Mrs. Varemberg had disappeared. 
 He involuntarily stretched out his hand towards her, 
 as she had to her father, from the hill-top. 
 
 " Where shall I set you down ? " his companion 
 asked him, after a time, arousing him from reverie. 
 
 " I will not take you out of your way," returned 
 Barclay. 
 
 " It 's all the same to me. One place is as good 
 as another. There will be items enough every- 
 where." 
 
 " At the city hall, then, if quite convenient." 
 
 Meantime, the acute disturbance of the air, that 
 had wrought so much havoc, had grown heavy and 
 sluggish in its movements, and was fast losing its dis- 
 tinctive character. It proceeded now at some little 
 distance above the ground, to which it seldom de- 
 scended to do further harm. 
 
 During the time of its most furious energy it had
 
 366 TEE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 absorbed into itself all other forces, but now crinkling 
 lightnings began to play in its track, like satellites 
 around the triumph of some truculent monarch. 
 It ceased to be a hurricane, and then swept on some 
 twenty miles further across the country, as a violent 
 storm of rain and hail. The wind at Keewaydin 
 shifted round and blew from the north, and the 
 wounded who lay unattended where they fell began 
 to groan anew, under the pain of their stiffening 
 wounds. 
 
 The cold was so severe that night that thin ice 
 formed on the ponds, and the heaviest hoar frost 
 known in years grievously damaged all the fruit 
 crop.
 
 XVII. 
 
 ASTR^EA REDUX. 
 
 DAVID LANE had returned to his office, as we have 
 seen, to await the coming of night, and the renewal 
 of his attempt. 
 
 While there he busied himself with his papers, 
 received visitors, and attended to the other duties of 
 his usual routine. Ives Wilson dropped in, and 
 talked awhile on the happy results of the late elec- 
 tion. He was getting up a column of " City Hall 
 Notes," for the nonce, in place of TVelby Goff. He 
 had a fancy for setting all departments of his paper 
 in turn an example of the way in which he himself 
 would manage their respective specialties. 
 
 The next visitor was Schwartzmann, the sculptor 
 of the Golden Justice. He came to pay his respects 
 previous to starting for Europe, where he had some 
 artistic commissions to execute for David Lane, 
 among others. 
 
 " Do you know," said he, in the course of con- 
 versation, "that the Justice, on the dome, above 
 there, pleases me about as well as anything I ever 
 did ? There are some mighty good things about that 
 figure, if I say it myself. I 've just been looking at 
 it again, from different points of view. There 's a 
 'go' about it that I 'm not always certain of getting 
 nowadays even when I want to the most."
 
 368 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 He had a sort of business-like and at the same 
 time almost impersonal and naive manner of praising 
 his own work that mainly relieved it of its offensive- 
 ness. 
 
 " But where could one have found such another 
 model as I had ? " he went on. " Your charming 
 daughter too has changed since then she is more 
 spin'tuelle of course even lovelier than before," 
 he hastened to add, by way of disclaiming disparage- 
 ment, " but just that precise union of soul and phy- 
 sique that makes the true goddess type, I hardly 
 ever expect to meet with again." 
 
 " Yes, she has changed," assented her father, ab- 
 stractedly. 
 
 This criticism served to bring vividly before him 
 anew his daughter's features, her situation, the Gold- 
 en Justice, the dizzy height to which he must climb, 
 the whole painful ordeal awaiting him. Why did 
 the talk, the actions, of all the world, even the most 
 indifferent, now seem to harp on but this single 
 theme ? 
 
 " I don't know as there 's more than one small 
 detail I 'd alter if I was doing the work over again," 
 pursued Schwartzmann. " I think I should now put 
 the figure on a cone-shaped base, instead of that glob- 
 ular one, and have it, say, a few feet lower. If she 
 should ever come down for anything, I 'd like to be 
 allowed to make that change." 
 
 O 
 
 A futile suggestion of hope, such as some others 
 he had formerly indulged, flitted through the mind 
 of the mayor. Might not he possibly encourage
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 369 
 
 Schwartzruann to head a movement for having the 
 
 O 
 
 Golden Justice taken down, and set up again on a 
 cone-shaped pedestal, some feet lower? The fancy 
 was but a passing one. Ah, no ; the emendation 
 proposed would be looked upon by the hard-headed 
 devotees of economy as the veriest trifle ; they would 
 appropriate no funds for such a purpose. 
 
 Schvvartzmann presently took his departure. The 
 mayor was immersed to the eyes in his papers, when 
 the same gust of rain and hail that devastated the 
 flowers at Fahnenstock's cottage smote upon the city 
 hall. The hail broke some lights of glass in the 
 dome of the rotunda, and rattled briskly down upon 
 the marble pavement. The janitor hastened anx- 
 iously up from his basement regions, to lend a hand, 
 like a stout beaver coming to the top when his dam 
 is assailed by trappers. 
 
 The sun shone out anew, but presently the air 
 grew obscure and yet more obscure. Even David 
 Lane, preoccupied as he tried to be, could not long 
 remain unaware that some portentous atmospheric 
 disturbance was impending. As the tornado drew 
 near, the mayor heard a distant sound like the roar 
 of the sea, which gradually increased in volume. 
 Hasty footsteps were heard in the halls without, and 
 voices speaking in alarm. The roar grew' nearer 
 and louder, till it became an infernal din. David 
 Lane rose and hurried to look out of his window. 
 
 For one brief lurid instant he had a vision as of 
 chaos come again. Trees uprooted iu the square, 
 twisting around one another like serpents or strands
 
 370 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 of rope, were coming towards him, on the wings of 
 the furious gale. The atmosphere, choked with dust, 
 torn leaves, miscellaneous small debris of every kind, 
 resembled turbulent clouds of dark smoke. The shock 
 of the mighty force impinged upon the fagade of the 
 building, and, at the same moment, all was enveloped 
 in the blackness of the night, which the tornado car- 
 ried in its bosom. A riven tree trunk burst through 
 the window, carrying sash and frame with it, and, 
 drenched with mud and weeds, lay in the midst of 
 the floor like a snag from the Mississippi. The city 
 hall rocked to its foundations. The lights were ex- 
 tinguished. The plastering of the room fell in large 
 sections, and electric sparks played upon its ceiling 
 and walls, like scintillations from an emery wheel. 
 
 The mayor, in this pandemonium, had turned away 
 with an instinctive impulse to escape, and groped his 
 way to the door. As he' laid a hand upon it, and 
 before he had time to make any effort of his own, it 
 suddenly flew open, yielding to a resistless, expansive 
 force within the building, and struck him a violent 
 blow. He was burled backwards, and fell, stunned 
 and bleeding, to the floor. 
 
 As he lay thus prone, in stupor, he knew not how 
 long, his fancy renewed the scene, of years long past, 
 at the Chippewa Street bridge. He thought that it 
 was by the collision with the propeller Pride of the 
 West that he was once more hurled down, crushed, 
 and suffering in every limb. Then he thought he 
 was again awakening from his heavy sleep, as in the 
 morning just past. The traces of havoc around him
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 371 
 
 struck on his sight at first like a part of his troubled 
 dreams. But then, with an effort, he remembered 
 where he was, the convulsion of nature that had 
 passed over, and all that had befallen him. His first 
 anxious thought was for the Golden Justice, and the 
 mission yet awaiting him. All was now still. It 
 was light again. The great building no longer vi- 
 brated. He seemed to have been lying there a very 
 long time. In reality, it was some three quarters of 
 an hour. 
 
 He rose from the floor, gathering his battered 
 frame painfully together. " Surely," he said to him- 
 self, " the dome has gone ; the statue can never have 
 weathered it." And he thought with sinking heart 
 of the fate of the papers he had made such herculean 
 efforts to obtain. 
 
 As he sallied forth, the inmates of the building, 
 who had fled in a general stampede, were cautiously 
 venturing back again, and marveling aloud to find 
 that so little damage had been done their offices and 
 the structure as a whole. David Lane overheard 
 one of them saying to another, 
 
 " The yellow gal from the dome looks as if she 
 were laid out for her wake, eh, piled up there among 
 that lot of trees. What kept the whole upper works 
 from coming down with her is more than I can see, 
 blest if it ain't ! " It was thus that the Golden Justice 
 was designated, as is perhaps the irreverent way of 
 the Americans with their statues generally, which, 
 to be sure, do not often deserve greater consideration. 
 David Lane knew well what was meant. " Oh, my
 
 372 TEE GOLDEN JUSTICE 
 
 prophetic soul ! " he might have exclaimed. His 
 worst premonitions were verified. The Golden Jus- 
 tice was down. And now those papers, could 
 they be still intact in their box ? or into whose hands 
 had they already fallen ? The people who were com- 
 ing in tried to detain him, to tell him of their in- 
 dividual experiences and inquire his own, to demand 
 his theories, to ask directions from him; but he 
 pushed them aside, and went on his way. 
 
 It was twilight now. Rather the diffused storm- 
 clouds, a mass of which had settled in the west in 
 heavy leaden strata, which the sunset enlivened only 
 with a few dull red bars, had created an artificial twi- 
 light. The mayor looked back and up at the city hall. 
 The tornado had either found it too stout an antago- 
 nist, or had not well planned the attack. It had been 
 shaken as with a mighty hand, it is true, and in cer- 
 tain spots had taken on a ragged, half-archaic appear- 
 ance ; one of the lesser domes of the wings, a great 
 iron column from one of the porticoes, and liberal 
 sections of its iron cornices, for instance, had gone ; 
 but, in the main, it had stood the ordeal. ' After some 
 profitable days' work by the ingenious race of con- 
 tractors, it would be about as good as ever. Its cen- 
 tral dome did not appear to have suffered in the least; 
 the cupola, or lantern, upon it was intact ; only the 
 Golden Justice, from its apex, had gone. 
 
 The eyes of the man whose destiny was so bound 
 up with hers roved wildly, pathetically, about. He 
 soon caught a trace of the figure. A gleam from her 
 shining surface came to him from above a formidable
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 373 
 
 mass of wreckage. Going thither, he found her lying 
 as in state, a little inclined, her head supported on 
 the ruined fountain. The uprooted tree trunks, as 
 they had been tossed together, inclosed her on three 
 sides in a bristling chevaux-de-frise, resembling some- 
 what an early Indian redoubt. 
 
 The tempest had used a certain consideration or 
 gallantry in dealing with the statue ; respected, as it 
 were, the very charming person it represented. It 
 had brought it down lightly, leaving the comely feat- 
 ures calm and smiling still, and but little distorted 
 by fractures. The chief damage appeared about the 
 lower portion of the drapery, where it had joined 
 with the supporting pedestal. Here considerable por- 
 tions of the metal had been rent away, exposing the 
 mechanical devices of the interior construction. 
 
 David Lane, bending above the figure, discerned 
 plainly the trace of Jus tampering with it the night 
 before. Breathless with anxiety and dread, he saw 
 that the metal box of the receptacle was shattered, 
 and its precious contents were missing. 
 
 His forces deserted him, and he seated himself, 
 bowed with dismay, upon a projecting fragment of 
 the debris. " Alas ! " he said, " it has been carried 
 away by the four winds of heaven. From what quar- 
 ter will detection overtake me ? " 
 
 Later, he tried to argue with himself : " Why may 
 it not have fallen in the lake, or in some ploughed 
 field, some swamp or piece of lonely woods, where it 
 will rot undisturbed, and no human eye ever rest up- 
 on it?"
 
 374 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 He searched the vicinity with eager eyes, but no 
 vestige of any of the papers appeared. They had 
 probably been loosed and taken flight like a flock of 
 birds while still far aloft. He was roused by the 
 voices of Schwartzmann the sculptor and Ives Wil- 
 son the editor who had climbed over an end of the 
 rugged barricade. The latter was rapidly possessing 
 himself, note-book in hand, of all the striking details 
 of the sights and scenes around him, having senf 
 Welby Goff off on a more distant mission. Like his 
 subordinate, whom he had well trained, he was brim- 
 ming over with interest, not to say enthusiasm. He 
 meant to make the Tornado Edition of the Index the 
 event of his lifetime. 
 
 " As to the statue, the head is unharmed, you see. 
 It can be set up again, about as good as ever, at no 
 great expense," Lane heard Schwartzmann saying ; 
 " and this time, I would like it to have a little differ- 
 ent pedestal." 
 
 " Here is a curious thing," said Ives Wilson, stoop- 
 ing to examine it. " Here is a place that looks as if 
 it had been regularly cut out with a saw. A brace 
 is cut, too, looks as fresh as if done yesterday. It 
 beats everything what pranks the lightning can 
 play." 
 
 "If it was done by the lightning, 'yesterday' is 
 rather an ancient date, is it not?" said the first 
 speaker. " But the fact is that tornadoes have noth- 
 ing to do with electricity. It used to be thought 
 necessary to thus account for their capers, but the idea 
 is exploded. They are purely atmospheric force."
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE, 375 
 
 Wilson disputed this, Schwartzmanu reaffirmed it. 
 They caught sight of David Lane, and deferred their 
 controversy to him ; but he evaded them, and re- 
 newed, instead, his disconsolate quest about the vicin- 
 ity for some trace of the missing document. He set 
 out perhaps beside himself, and not quite conscious 
 of all he did to pick his steps first away from, and 
 then towards, the Golden Justice by many different 
 paths. 
 
 This, then, was the end of all his diplomacy, his 
 arts, his indomitable perseverance, his sufferings, his 
 feats of physical strength. He was betrayed by the 
 very elements. He would have called back the 
 pledge he had given to justice, but the opportunity 
 was taken from him. As if the wish to do so had 
 served as a signal, the secret was placed forever be- 
 yond his reach and recall. It was launched into 
 space, published broadcast. The wretched evil-doer 
 was now to face the obloquy of the world, and to be 
 visited, as well, with the condign punishment of the 
 law due his crime. He could formulate no plan for 
 his next immediate actions. Could he ever meet his 
 family again ? He hardly even thought of the perils 
 they also might have met with in the tornado. That 
 great convulsion itself was all but forgotten. Should 
 he fly and hide his shame in a foreign dominion ? 
 No, he could only dumbly await his fate. 
 
 Paul Barclay alighted at his house in the city hall 
 square. His inquiring eye missed the Golden Justice 
 from her accustomed place, and, ranging around, soon
 
 376 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 caught a glimpse of her, as David Lane had done, ly- 
 ing on her funeral pyre, or amid the stockade-like 
 heap of rubbish. He thought good to hasten at first 
 to see how his relations, the amiable Thornbrooks, h:ul 
 met the dangers of these exciting times. He found 
 them well and unharmed ; the hurricane had passed 
 by them, on the other side of the park. He then re- 
 paired to his room, hurriedly made some much-needed 
 changes in his damaged attire, sat down and read the 
 confession over again, word by word, with the most 
 sedulous care, and once more sallied forth. 
 
 He did not yet know what he should do with the 
 document so providentially conveyed to his hands. 
 His ideas were still in a whirl over this most singular 
 
 O 
 
 of situations.' It was now likely that he would see 
 David Lane ; indeed, it was with that object that he 
 had come hither. What should he say to him? 
 
 But his thoughts continually mingled together the 
 father and the daughter. He had suffered a grievous 
 wrong, his life had been marred, his mother and sis- 
 ters had been bereft of their mainstay and comforter. 
 What punishment did not the perpetrator of all this, 
 the cause of so much suffering, deserve, in spite of 
 his bizarre attempt at satisfaction, in spite of his hav- 
 ing committed himself to a fantastic ideal of justice ? 
 These had been his gloomy ponderings, at first, as he 
 rode along to town. But now he did not seem a 
 man struggling wholly with bitter resentment. He 
 had permitted himself even a speculative interest. It 
 was all so very long ago, this story. What a strange 
 revelation into the character of David Lane was it
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 377 
 
 not! Was Barclay, then, recreant to the memory of 
 his own dearly loved parent ? Ah, no ; but at present 
 the sweet affection by which he was held gave to all 
 other opinions and feelings, even this, an exceeding 
 remoteness. No doubt, too, the scenes of devastation 
 and death through which he had passed by the way, 
 and the recent memory of the mighty force of nature, 
 so dwarfing to all sublunary things, had their effect 
 upon his state of mind. 
 
 He directed himself towards the overthrown Gold- 
 en Justice, in which he had held so tremendous a 
 stake. His interest in it was now fully accounted for, 
 above and beyond all past explanations. He descried 
 David Lane pursuing his wistful search, and quickly 
 divined its object. The latter, raising his head at the 
 sound of approaching footsteps, suddenly discovered 
 the one man of all others who should have been far 
 from him at such a time, the man with whom fate 
 had brought him into such astounding relations. 
 Surely, however, it was but a coincidence. It would 
 be miraculous to suppose that Barclay had already 
 become possessed of his secret. It would come, no 
 doubt, but not so directly as this. For the time be- 
 ing, and until the blow should fall, this visitor might 
 be regarded like any other, in whose eyes he, the 
 mayor, was still the honored citizen, the figure of 
 unimpeached standing, the model of probity. He 
 thought that the younger man would recall only the 
 match with his daughter, to which the pair were 
 awaiting his consent. Alack ! his consent or his re- 
 fusal, what did it matter now ? All honorable pro-
 
 378 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 ceediugs in the world were henceforth to take place 
 without him. 
 
 " It has been a terrible day," he said, to make 
 talk, not daring to evade this new-comer as he had 
 the others, " but the worst is surely over." 
 
 " You have lost something ? You seem to be 
 searching," began Paul Barclay, in a vibrating voice. 
 
 "I searching? I have lost Oh, no," stam- 
 mered the other. " There are no doubt many ar- 
 ticles of value scattered about, but, but one has 
 not time for that as yet. I have much to do. I was 
 examining the state in which the city hall was left. 
 The damage is not extreme. It is nothing like so 
 great as I had expected. It might have been much 
 worse." 
 
 Still his eyes involuntarily sought the ground, 
 over which they wandered, at moments, with such a 
 feverish energy as if they would have burned the 
 spot on which they rested. 
 
 Barclay paused. The gaze which he fixed upon 
 the averted head of the man before him was full of 
 commiseration. 
 
 " She came down, as my weather-prophet predicted 
 she would," he said, as they stood together beside 
 the fallen Golden Justice. 
 
 Schwartzmann and Ives Wilson were still heard, 
 at the further end of the inclosure, continuing their 
 argument. 
 
 " You don't suppose anybody has been cutting up 
 the image for the value of the metal, since the 
 storm, or climbed up there to do it before?" de- 
 manded "Wilson.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 379 
 
 " Well, no, it is n't very likely." 
 
 " The way of it was this," went on the editor. 
 " The opening was made and the brace broken by 
 the lightning. That let in the wind, and gave it its 
 powerful purchase inside the figure. If it had n't 
 been weakened by the cutting of the brace, it would 
 n't have come down at all. It stands to reason. 
 You can see for yourself. Notice how that light 
 cupola stood it, if you don't think so." 
 
 Barclay's vision of the night the man, with a 
 ladder, crouched against the pedestal in the fitful 
 flashes of the storm once more came before him. 
 He could no longer doubt that it was real. David 
 Lane, too, had heard the words. His very effort to 
 escape had brought the image down. 
 
 " I don't believe it was ever done by lightning," 
 persisted Schwartzmann. 
 
 Upon this the two walked away, disappearing 
 through a gap in the chevaux-de-frise at the other end 
 of the unwieldy bulk, where they had been posted. 
 
 " I must go and look after my my house. I 
 have not been near it yet," said the mayor, apologiz- 
 ing for a move of withdrawal. He had roused him- 
 self from his preoccupation, and perhaps really har? 
 bored some such intention. But with what front was 
 he to present himself again at his home? "Would that 
 he had died, rather, by the fury of the hurricane ! 
 
 " Your daughter is safe and well," said Paul 
 Barclay. 
 
 " She is safe ? You have seen her ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have but just left her. She has come to 
 no harm."
 
 380 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 " Thank God for that ! " 
 
 There could be no doubt of the fatherly interest 
 that spoke in such a voice. He still continued, how- 
 ever, his movement to withdraw. He pleaded, also, 
 public duties that would soon demand his attention. 
 Barclay watched him depart a few steps ; then, re- 
 luctantly, 
 
 " I spoke of a loss. What if I had found the ob- 
 ject of your search ? " 
 
 " A loss ? " said the mayor, turning sharply. 
 " Have I not said " 
 
 But his glance, which had risen to meet that of 
 Barclay, discovered something stern and mysterious 
 there. It fell again before it, and he left the sen- 
 tence unfinished. 
 
 " Give yourself no further concern for its destina- 
 tion. I have found it," said the younger man. 
 
 " Oh, no, you have not found that for which I 
 was looking. .It may be so later, but not yet, not yet. 
 You speak of other things." 
 
 " Shall I describe it to you ? Was it not a certain 
 document which had been sealed up in this statue ? 
 Was it not indorsed in a most legible hand, The Con- 
 fession of a Repentant Man ?" 
 
 "God! Ton have found it? You know all?" 
 cried the mayor, with a shudder of indescribable 
 anguish and dismay. 
 
 " Was it not called further, A True Account of 
 the Connection of David Lane with the Disaster at 
 the Chippewa Street Bridge, and the Deaths of 
 Christopher Barclay and Stanislaus Zeliiisky ? "
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 381 
 
 " How can it be possible that it has come into 
 your hands, you who should have been the last in 
 the world to hear it " 
 
 Barclay silently drew forth the paper, and ex- 
 tended it towards the other, for the conviction which 
 the sight of it must overwhelmingly produce. The 
 character and superscription were plainly visible. 
 
 David Lane fixed his eyes upon it with a pitiful 
 intensity. Then he opened wide his hands, with a 
 gesture of self-abasement and overthrow. 
 
 " What will you do with me ? " he asked simply. 
 
 It is not the habit of Anglo-Saxons, trained to ab- 
 horrence of " scenes," to express emotion in the mel- 
 odramatic way. When something important is in 
 progress, they do not saw the air, nor violently con- 
 tort their bodies. An even greater impassiveness of 
 manner than usual may take the place of demonstra- 
 tion. The voice, instead of being raised, is as likely 
 to be sunk yet lower. So any spectators who might 
 have looked on would by no means have divined the 
 tragic nature of the interview in progress between 
 the two men. Flushings and paleness would not be 
 repressed, it is true, and there were crispations of the 
 hands, and some subtle penetrating tones that seemed 
 to vibrate from the very inmost depths of the heart ; 
 but, for the most part, they faced each other, and 
 talked with portentous calm of the momentous situa- 
 tion in which they found themselves involved. David 
 Lane, indeed, broken by his previous labors and ter- 
 rors, had small force remaining for effort of any 
 kind.
 
 382 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 Paul Barclay did not directly reply to the question 
 last put to him, nor as yet exhibit his purpose. He 
 led on his interlocutor to speak of the history of the 
 affair. 
 
 " You have made some attempts to relieve your- 
 self of this heavy burden ? " he finally asked. There 
 was a definite significance in his words, and yet he 
 was hardly prepared, even now, to hear so complete 
 a corroboration of his vision as that laid before him 
 in reply. 
 
 "Yes, last night I endeavored to recover the con- 
 fession. I climbed to the dome, and had reached the 
 box, when my strength failed me. But for the wind 
 and rain I should have succeeded. I made the open- 
 ing and cut the brace of which those men were 
 speaking." 
 
 " I knew it." 
 
 " How could you possibly have known it ? " 
 
 " I was awake, and, from my window,! saw a man 
 on the dome. I learned that you had passed the 
 night at the city hall, and I found the paper. Then 
 all was explained." 
 
 " I should have gone back and finished the work 
 to - night," said the mayor mournfully. " With the 
 paper once more in my own hands, I should have 
 been free. It would have been better for all of us. 
 But Providence willed otherwise." 
 
 "And had you made no efforts of the kind be- 
 fore ? " 
 
 " Never. There had never been the same over- 
 powering stimulus, nor had there been an opportu-
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 383 
 
 nity. But at last I could endure no more. It was for 
 this alone I became mayor. In no other way could 
 I have remained in the city hall by night without 
 awakening suspicion." 
 
 This was yet a new revelation to Barclay. The 
 involvement in the affair of the destinies of a great 
 city and its inhabitants, the struggles and uncertain- 
 ties of the political contest through which they had 
 just passed, gave to it an enlarged and more dignified 
 aspect. It took the air of some strange epic, with 
 vast ramifications, centring round the fortunes of him- 
 self, David Lane, and Mrs. Varemberg. He saw 
 David Lane, broken with age and infirmities as never 
 before, bowed in humiliation to him, the younger man. 
 The pathos of such a situation, the recollection of 
 what the labors of the past night must have been, 
 and the thought of the many and varied tortures, 
 even if deserved, of all the years gone by, combined 
 with his affection to sweep away from his heart the 
 last lingering traces of resentment. Even the crime 
 itself seemed to him the unreasonable act of one, for 
 the time being, of some weaker, less responsible order 
 of humanity. He was all ready to say, 
 
 " It is the motive that is to be judged, and not the 
 consequence. Surely you have suffered enough." 
 But before he could open his mouth to this purport, 
 David Lane anticipated him with, 
 
 " I await your orders. You will exact ample ex- 
 piation : it is your due." 
 
 " Yes, I shall exact ample expiation." 
 
 " I am ready. I shall make no complaint at what-
 
 384 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 ever you please to demand," rejoined David Lane, 
 with a melancholy smile. 
 
 " Give me, then, your daughter's hand in mar- 
 riage ! " exclaimed the young man passionately. 
 
 " My daughter ? You can still demand her ? " re- 
 turned the other, with a wholly astounded air. Was 
 this the punishment for which he had sullenly braced 
 himself ? " You do not hate us unutterably ? You 
 do not let this weigh with you ? " 
 
 " There has never been a moment from the first 
 when this wretched secret would have weighed with 
 me. Oh, why did you not make it known ? I loved 
 her more than life, more than family, more than any 
 and all other interests whatever. There has never 
 been a moment, even if the guilt were a hundred-fold 
 greater, when it could have diminished my loving re- 
 gard for her, or induced me to bring discredit upon 
 one whose fair fame and standing were bound up in 
 hers. If you would have been really safe, why did 
 you not tell me ? It was that way most of all that 
 safety lay." 
 
 " Believe me, it was not my own safety I consult- 
 ed," protested the mayor, with tearful earnestness. 
 "Ah, what a lamentable error! Each successive 
 step of it led to the next. I thought it a matter of 
 conscientious duty to keep you apart. Believe me, 
 it was but a misguided desire for your welfare and 
 hers that prompted it. I dreaded what would hap- 
 pen when you should one day come to know, and find 
 yourself indissolubly bound to poor Florence." 
 
 " Let us talk of it no more. Come, let us go to
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 385 
 
 her," said Barclay, persuasively, passing his arm 
 through that of David Lane. It is doubtful if the 
 elder man could have sustained himself, so weak had 
 he grown, or even risen from his seat, without this aid. 
 He let himself be taken possession of, and even went 
 on a little way in this fashion ; but then, all at once, 
 he demurred, and drew back with horror. 
 
 " No," he said, " I cannot go, I cannot meet her. 
 She was the dearest in the world to me, and I sacri- 
 ficed her health and her happiness. My treatment of 
 her was infamous. How shall I face the scorn and 
 bitterness of my daughter when she knows the kind 
 of a father I have been to her ? " 
 
 " She knows nothing, and never shall know," said 
 Barclay, and his manner had the solemnity of one 
 registering a vow. " I had already thought it over. 
 It is best for her own peace of mind and happiness, 
 best on every account, that no word of this should 
 ever be spoken to her." 
 
 " But how can it be, if others if justice surely 
 do you mean that the paper will not be given to 
 will not be disclosed ? " exclaimed David Lane, gasp- 
 ing and confounded at the possibility of so amazing 
 a consummation. 
 
 For his sole reply, Paul Barclay began to slowly 
 tear the confession into fragments, and scatter them 
 about him. 
 
 David Lane grasped his hand with the warmth of 
 excessive gratitude. 
 
 " It is your secret and mine," said Barclay ; " let 
 it rest forever with us alone. It seems that you have
 
 386 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 suffered as much as we. Justice must be satisfied. 
 Let Florence be the bond of forgiveness and union 
 between us." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried the other abjectly, " for this I will be 
 your slave. I will do whatever you wish." 
 
 At that moment, Mrs. Varemberg herself was seen 
 approaching, from a conveyance that had stopped at 
 the curbstone. She came on with a light, gliding 
 tread, very quick and elastic for her. She had paused 
 at home only long enough to throw over her tempest- 
 tossed attire the first enveloping mantle found at 
 hand, an ample gray wrap, and to add to this a gray 
 Tyrolean hat with a white wing in it. The gray, 
 with the dash of white, in the gathering dusk of 
 evening, gave him a faint suggestion of some pensive 
 heron visiting a haunted spring. 
 
 The site was that, by the fountain, where Barclay 
 had once called her the princess of the pearls and 
 diamonds. As she drew near, he was scattering to 
 the winds the last fragments of the destroyed confes- 
 sion. David Lane precipitated himself upon the 
 hand that did this, and pressed it to his lips in a 
 fervor of reverent gratitude. 
 
 " I will be your humble slave forever," he said. 
 " Henceforth I will be and do whatever you com- 
 mand." 
 
 Tears of joy filled his eyes at the thought that 
 he was not to be disgraced in the sight of his daughter. 
 
 Mrs. Varemberg saw that something of no common 
 import had taken place between the two men. Nor 
 did it seem to be of an unfriendly nature.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 387 
 
 " You are safe, you are not harmed ? " she cried, 
 addressing her father in a voice full of anxious affec- 
 tion. The Radbrooks had broken their harness in 
 driving to town, and she had been delayed ; but on 
 arriving at home and finding her father not there, she 
 had hastened at once to seek him. 
 
 There was still a certain constraint in the manner 
 in which he received her, but her lover came to her, 
 and took her tenderly in his arms. It was done 
 openly, in the presence of the other. There was no 
 need of concealment, then, no opposition any longer ? 
 
 " Our troubles are over, my darling," said Barclay, 
 in answer to her wondering looks. " You are mine. 
 The last obstacles have vanished." 
 
 "You are friends?" she exclaimed, looking from 
 one to the other, while prayers of gratitude welled up 
 from her heart. " You are reconciled ? " 
 
 " Yes, we are friends. Let us speak no more of 
 it ; there have been troubles enough in this tragic 
 day And yet our happiness, dearest, has sprung 
 out of the very midst of them." 
 
 He drew her a little nearer to her father, who 
 took one of her hands also, so that they were all 
 three united. 
 
 " We had misunderstood each other, that is all," 
 said David Lane, embarrassed, offering the only ex- 
 planation of the past that was given. 
 
 " Ah yes, you had misunderstood each other," she 
 murmured, glad of any consummation that had ended 
 it all, and oblivious as yet of details. 
 
 " That will happen, even where intentions are of
 
 388 TEE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 the best," Barclay hastened to add, with all his cheer- 
 fulness ; " and, once begun, such things are often hard 
 to set right But luckily it is all over, and now we are 
 going to be as happy as we can, all three together. 
 Tornado or no tornado, this will always be the most 
 blissful day of my life." 
 
 Nor had Mrs. Varemberg's spirits wholly deserted 
 her. She soon began to examine with interest the 
 fallen statue which lay in the midst of them, the sub- 
 ject and basis of their conference. " One can no 
 longer exclaim, * Great is Diana of the Ephesians,' " 
 she said, quoting lightly, " but rather, ' Her ' mag- 
 nificence is destroyed whom all Asia and the world 
 worshiped.' " 
 
 " Not so ; she is in an excellent state to set up 
 again, better than ever," rejoined Barclay. " We 
 have just heard Schwartzmann say so." 
 
 " Well, I do not find myself too beautiful on so 
 mammoth a scale. Thirty-six feet of loveliness is 
 rather paralyzing. I feel as if I saw myself distorted 
 in a vast magnifying mirror." 
 
 " For my part," said Barclay gallantly, " I could 
 find it in my heart to be in love with her were she a 
 hundred times as big. There never can be too much 
 of so sweet a model." 
 
 The fair, helmeted features did not seem to indi- 
 cate, even thus fallen, broken hopes or gloomy pros- 
 pects. They smiled up a definite reassurance, in- 
 stead. It was as if the trio were consulting some 
 beautiful sphinx, who foretold for them all a prosper- 
 ous destiny.
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 389 
 
 People now began to come and invade the stock- 
 ade, which had hitherto given their interview privacy. 
 The mayor was in demand to put himself at the head 
 of affairs. Urgent measures of relief were necessary. 
 Loss of life and tragic devastation had taken place in 
 many quarters of the city, particularly, perhaps, on 
 the outskirts, and messengers were now beginning to 
 arrive from those districts in hot haste, with pressing 
 appeals for aid. 
 
 Mrs. Varemberg seemed aroused the most keenly 
 of all to the duties of the hour, forgotten for the mo- 
 ment in the engrossment of their own affairs. " We 
 will go with you," she said to her father. " We will 
 celebrate our new-found happiness by doing some- 
 thing for these sufferers around us. We will help 
 you. You must make us your lieutenants." 
 
 All three went to the mayor's office. There were 
 ambulances to be sent forth, ruins to be cleared away, 
 food, clothing, and shelter to be provided. Medicines 
 and surgery were needed for the injured, and deco- 
 rous burial for the slain. David Lane, in his enfee- 
 bled condition of mind and body, would never have 
 been equal, unaided, to the heavy responsibilities thus 
 suddenly thrust upon him. It was really Barclay 
 who assumed the heat and burden of the day, while 
 Mrs. Varemberg, up to the furthest limit of her moder- 
 ate strength, acted as a private secretary, full of sym- 
 pathy and resource. And all opened liberally their 
 purses as well as their hearts. 
 
 In considerate labors like these their new existence 
 began. It was not a question of the toil of one night
 
 390 TllE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 or oue day alone, but of several. Such terror had 
 been struck by the tornado that many of the people 
 anxiously watched every passing cloud and puff of 
 air, and sat up at night, ready dressed and with lan- 
 terns burning, dreading a return of its devastations. 
 The excitement of such a time had already taken 
 something away from the sharpness and vividness of 
 those of our friends. Their future at once com- 
 menced to blend imperceptibly with the past. It is 
 a rapidly moving world of ours, that does not pause 
 long in amazement before any crises, even the most 
 stupendous, nor in wonder at any individual fortunes, 
 however remarkable. And so their fate began to be 
 woven again into the general pattern, from which it 
 had a little departed or rather departed only in 
 seeming ; for if we pick up a portion of the web, and 
 avert our eyes momentarily from the rest, it is not 
 that we have discovered a separate and complete pat- 
 tern, but that we may see the better in this close in- 
 spection the strangeness and richness of the design 
 we call life, in one of its parts, and thus come to a 
 clearer understanding of the whole. 
 
 Shall it be told here that Paul Barclay went on in 
 the career of enlightened political usefulness he had 
 marked out for himself ? He rebuilt his factory, and 
 incorporated into it all his original favorite ideas, so 
 that its fame spread far and wide. His popularity, ob- 
 tained by his able and sympathetic efforts in relieving 
 the suffering caused by the hurricane, soon made him, 
 in his turn, the mayor of the city. He next served 
 in legislative bodies by degrees approaching the
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 391 
 
 highest in the nation. It \vas thought that few were 
 better equipped than he, by reason of his extensive 
 reading and sound judgment, his good heart and pro- 
 gressive views, to play a useful part in all current in- 
 dustrial questions. He would seem, too, one of those 
 to whom the country might best turn for aid on the 
 greater economic matters, the conflicts of capital and 
 labor, the vast antagonisms of social classes even 
 to the point of taking arms in their hands, arid threat- 
 ening the perpetuity of free institutions and civili- 
 zation itself that loom up as the most pressing 
 questions of the times and the immediate future. 
 
 And, if ever combatant in the rude fray of life had 
 tender nurse to bind up his wounds, if ever philan- 
 thropist and rising public man had worthy consort to 
 grace his home, and win the stronger support to his 
 measures by her engaging personal charm, surely 
 Paul Barclay had all this in Florence Lane the 
 sweet model of that Golden Justice, which gleamed 
 again as the crowning ornament, and symbol of im- 
 partial right, of Keewaydin. 
 
 The new relation that sprang up between Paul 
 Barclay and David Lane was a strange one. There 
 was now manifested as warm regard as there had 
 once been hostility and estrangement. The mayor's 
 daughter was greatly touched by this, and, with inno- 
 cent self-complacency, ascribed it to her own influence. 
 Her heart swelled with joy and gratitude that their 
 affection for her had thus brought them together, and 
 joined them in bonds of enduring amity.
 
 392 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 
 
 By no word or implication of the younger man's was 
 the secret ever referred to, though David Lane, in 
 the earlier days, often fell into his self-accusing spirit, 
 and would have renewed the expression of his re- 
 morse. Paul Barclay would have none of it, but put 
 down, with friendly insistence, all painful recallings 
 from the past. 
 
 Thus the reunited household lived seemingly in an 
 atmosphere of perfect harmony and peace. But 
 David Lane did not long survive, to enjoy this altered 
 condition of affairs. He was gnawed within by his 
 sense of self-abasement and repentance, and perhaps 
 but suffered the more for the enforced suppression of 
 them. Within two years he passed away, leaving 
 his daughter to the sincerest regret, unalloyed by any 
 stigma upon his memory. 
 
 At the beginning of her married life, she had asked 
 her husband, it is true, " How could our happiness 
 have arisen, as you said, out of the very calamities of 
 that disastrous day ? " 
 
 Barclay had put her off with a careless answer, 
 and, so too, as often as the subject was brought up, 
 he used that kind prevarication of which perhaps the 
 recording angel makes but his lightest note. He 
 made it appear that there had never been any real 
 difference between her father and himself, save some 
 slight bickerings by reason of their different ages and 
 temperaments, and possibly an unfortunate manner 
 on both sides. Perhaps he had not been very happy 
 in his way of proposing for her hand, in the first 
 place. Their tragic experiences in the tornado had
 
 THE GOLDEN JUSTICE. 393 
 
 naturally made these bickerings seem petty, and rec- 
 onciliation had been easy when the opportunity 
 offered. With such words as these the topic was 
 dropped, and was soon wellnigh wholly forgotten. 
 
 It was only after many years had rolled away, and 
 all possibility of shock or pain from it seemed obvi- 
 ated, that Paul Barclay at last disclosed the secret to 
 his wife. In his heart he had felt that he could not 
 bear to be permanently separated from her united 
 as they were in bonds of the most tender confidence in 
 every other way even by reticence on such a sub- 
 ject. They were sitting, when he told her, on the 
 grass-grown tomb of David Lane, in the cemetery, 
 and the tears flowed freely down the cheeks of Flor- 
 ence, as she listened, but it was, then, with hardly 
 more than such a pensive and gentle sadness as might 
 be evoked by some mere far-off, unreal and fanciful 
 tale.
 
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