CHAPTER III.

Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1833, 5 April 1884, Page 5 (Supplement)

CHAPTER 111.

Herbert went out by the side- entrance, which was reserved for the bank people and favoured clients. It was a lovely autumn day, the sun was shining brightly, and the hum and movement of the streets were very pleasant. No reaction had come to him ; he was as determined as ever to show these men what he could do when the time came. He laughed as he thought how secure they felt themselves, and his heart swelled when he thought of his power and how he was about to put it to the best of uses, the avenging of the wronged. He had mapped the future of the bank out clearly, he knew what was to be done clearly. Not one of the directors had dreamt that the young man had not only grasped his own business, but that of the bank ; indeed, to understand one was to grasp the other, so closely were they related. " They call me a madman," he murmured to himself, as he turned the corner and reaohed his carriage ; " I will show them who is mad and foolish." His foot was on the step — many had paused to look at this graceful, handsome youth, whose clothes so well showed off his fine, truly moulded figure, the beauty of whose face was heightened by the colour — when he was touched on the arm. Turning around, he saw it was a bank clerk, whose face plainly expressed wonderment. Indeed, the clerks were bursting with curiosity, and even the customers hovered round to get an inkling of what had taken place. The clerks were nearly all mere youths— when they got a certain age they either bettered themselves or were dismissed for asking an increase of salary — and since Herbert had joined they had grown to adore him. When they heard of his action in raising his own employes' wages, hope rose high in their hearts. They all declared he would try and better their lot, though they felt confident he could not carry a " pill of relief." When the hubbub in the directors' room had taken place, they all felt sure the dread moment had arrived, and the battle begun. How earnestly they hoped their young champion would beat down these obdurate men. " Mr. Whinatun gave me this note," said the clerk ; "it is for you, Bir." 41 For me 1 " said .Herbert, staggered. " Surely not." And^then, as if to contradict himself, he opened it and pulled out a little slip of paper, on which was written : " I wish to see you on an urgent matter; not regarding my own but your affairs." Herbert absolutely turned pale, and the crowd who had gathered, under pretence of studying the shop windows, to look athim, were delighted. Something was going to happen or had happened, and that always delights a crowd. The fact was that Herbert at first feared Whinstun, who had had great power with the bank and his father, had been guilty of defalcations, his estate being the sufferer, and that he now wanted to be shielded so as to, in his pwn way, have time to make the defalcations good. He dismissed this idea, however, when he recollected how severe had been the scrutiny of the securities and the money. He felt indisposed to excite himself again that day, and almost resolved not to see Whinstun. But, reflecting that this might be misconstruel, he changed his mind, j and walked into the bank. He passed through the crowd of customers and olerks, whose eyes devoured him and knocked at the manager's, door. A thin voice bade him enter. Mr. Whinstun stood, us was his custom when dealing with great cases," in front of ths fire. His face was Bet and ghastly, and he bent a malicious look upon his visitor. Herbert shuddered. Thus had this man stood when he had pronounced f hc'doom of many a belter man than he. The

reflection nerved and made him firm as sfael. He looked full into the manager's ace. Whinßtnn's eyes fell before that hon°st j cornful look, and his head sank. Despite himself the terror had returned, and he had ■sought this interview to play a card which he knew would have done with tho father, t» whom he had often exhibited it, and which he thought would influence the san. " Well," said Herbert in a harsher voice than would be thought possible, "what do you want with me ? I tell you at once nothing that you will say can alter my determination. Manager of thia bank you will not be, if I have tho power. The dead in their graves are crying for vengenee and they will have it." Mr. Whinstun had resolved upon a different course, but now all the fury of his nature. . a nature uttterly unaccustomed to be thwarted, burst forth, and the man became absolutely a furious madman. He saw the i work of his life time about to be snatched from his grasp, the yawning chasm of destruction at his feet, and he became desperate. Herbert almost recoiled from him. " You cannot do it, you cannot do it," he screamed or shrieked ; he could say no more ! and put his hand to his heart. I The people in the banking chamber were again electrified. " Hush," Baid Herbert ; "Do you want the bank to be alarmed ? " 11 1 care nothing," cried the furious man who had now recovered his speech— he had always been a man of violent temper, but having never till now received a severe check he had done nothing notorious — " Let them know. If lam to fall, let the house fall, the walla collapse, and the building crumble to the ground. Ha IHa ! I won't be the only one buried under the ruins ; even you, rich as you are, will not escape unhurt." " There is no need to protract this scene ; it will do no good ;" said Herbert, recovering himself, and turning to the door. "No; you must not go," cried the manager, springing forward and catching his arm ; " not at leaßt until I say what I have sent for you to hear. I will be calm enough — see if you will." Herbert shook off the hand, and stared at him firmly. There was no fear or flinching in his face. " What," asked the manager, "has led yon to take this step? What have I done to you? Did I not help to build up your fortune ? Was I not the right hand of your father ? Why, then, turn upon me?" There was almost a pathos in his tone. " Why do you ask me the question ?" said Herbert. " You know the answer well enough ; your own heart mu3t tell you. You have known for years that I looked upon you as I was taught by my mother, as not only a selfish, giasping man, but one who never hesitated at crime, though always keeping within the law, and the worst of crimes are committed within the law — to obtain an advantage. You helped my father — to help ! yourself. He took you from the dirt, and every farthing you made you owed to him. Perhaps, cramped as his nature was, he would have become a better niaii, he would have yielded to the influences of his wife, had you not been his evil spirit, his counsellor. You want to know the rea a ona. They are many, but I will give you the leading ones. When I was a boy I resolved to depose you, if ever I had the power. I have ifc now, and I will exert it. My first reason is that you aie leading the bank to ruin. Another step and you would have it in your grasp. You would get it so involved in your affairs that sustain you it must, at all hazards. The position is not that yet. The bank can realise upon your securities." "My securities," cried the banker; "the bank has not lent me a penny." " That will not do with me," eaid Herbert, sternly ; " your name does not appear, for the money is lent to your partners, men of straw, but for you. The money would not have been advanced but for your power with the directors. You have played the game for many a year, and done well. You were not satisfied ; your greed would not let you rest. For some time you have been taking up properties in Queensland, South Australia, and West Australia. Men of experience whom I havo consulted pi edict a terrible failure, unless there is unlimited capital to fall back upon. That you will not get now. You have come to the beginning of the end. That is one reason. Do you remember Tom Hoiton, who died in misery ; Tom Horton, who, but for you, would have now been the richest man in Australia ; to whom even I would have been but a small capitalist ? A man of warm, generous heart and impulsive nature ; whose hand was ever open, whom hundreds acknowledged as their benefactor, the man who gave them a start. Shrewd, for all that. But a great drought came, a drought that the wisest could not foresee and allow for. Then, when the bank of whom he had been a generous customer should have upheld him, it failed him, when, for the first time, he wanted help. Why? Because the wicked majority on the directorate saw if he were crushed they could buy his properties at a tenth the real value. They crushed the man ; they bought the properties; the drought passed away, as all knew it would — six months grace would have saved Tom Horton — and on these purchases thousands per cent, wore realised. Poor Tom Horton"— here Herbert's voice became low and his eyes clouded— "how well I remember him. He was a constant visitor at our house, and when he was there he made even my father jovial and happy. He was a man who diffused sunshine wherever he went ; and you ruined him. You I I know that my father resisted the proposal to close upon Horton for some time. Even he was not bad enough to turn upon so good a friend. Bat he waa overborne. And what became of Tom Horton ? " " What became of many a man of his reckless class," replied the manager coldly ; "he died of his own besetting sin, drink. The path of life is strewn with such wrecks. When a .man takes to drink he is beyond salvation here or hereafter." " Yes," replied Herbert, " when men like you abound. Tom Horton never recovered that terrible blow. He saw the work of an honest and laborious life cast to the winds at the word of men whom he had benefitledand and trusted. He saw his child left without a penny. He was of an age when to begin again was impossible. He was broken. I believe his mental powers were impaired. He who had been on the topmost rung could not again begin at the lowest step of the ladder. He would not commit auicide in a direct way, so he took to drink. I have seen him wandering up and down the streets of Melbourne, shoeless, hatlesß, begging for a threepence to get a drop of drink. I have sought him out and given him money and food. Ah 1 how well I remember his despairing wail : ' 'Tis no good, dear lad, I only want money to drink ; I only want to die ! ' and at last he died — in the Melbourne Hospital — the man who had feasted the magnates of this city, and whose name was a pow^r. He died. I was there— calling down (he curse of God upon you— and now that curse has come home." Mr. Whinstnn's face turned an ashy gray. Hypocrite aa he waa he was superstitious ; he dreaded the dead. " And Lucy Horton, the child of his age, the apple of his eye, the pride of his life, for whom he had plotted and dreamed and saved — what became of her?" thundered Herbert, hie fape blazing with passion. " Aak your son, sir, your drunken, ruffianly son, who spent some of the money you robbed from Turn Hoitoo to rum bia daughter. You

knew it, too ; you did not atep in to save her. Man, Lucy was my playmate." " Sweetheart," interpolated the manager, with a demon leer. JPor a moment it seemed S3 if Harbor* would have struck the wretoh down. With|a great effoit he held himself back. "Foul wretch," he cried; "she was not my sweetheart ; I was too youag then, kut I loved her as a sister, bright, beautiful being was, and had you not ruined T©ni Hor'ou that feeling might have deepened into !ove, and this day might have been united the two greatest properties in Australia. Ah 1 [ remember the firsf" time I saw your son looking at her. I can recollect how beautiful she looked when at our plp.ee one evening we set up the mistletoe. Lucy Hortoa fell. What she became when deserted by your son, you know. I saw her flaunting in silks and satin 9, living her Bhort butterfly life ; I watched her going down, down, until at an age when other women be^in life, I was called to see her in the hospital 1 , whence she was never to move again. She died, too, and she died with the curae upon you that her father had pronounced. Don't think but I tried to save her. My mother, angel that she was, braved the horrors of the place she lived in, and tried to lead her back. It was in vain. Sho knew her doom, and she accepted it. She felt she had been blotted out of the book of life, and so she died." (To be continued.)