stories by modern american authors-第14节

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At　the　time　he　left　for　Paris　he　had　a　vast　clientage　and　was　in

the　midst　of　a　brilliant　career。　　The　day　he　took　passage　from　New

York；　the　bar　lost　sight　of　him。　　No　matter　how　great　a　man　may　be；

the　wave　soon　closes　over　him　in　a　city　like　this。　　In　a　few　years

Mason　was　forgotten。　　Now　only　the　older　practitioners　would　recall

him；　and　they　would　do　so　with　hatred　and　bitterness。　　He　was　a

tireless；　savage；　uncompromising　fighter；　always　a　recluse。〃



〃Well；〃　said　Walcott；　〃he　reminds　me　of　a　great　world…weary　cynic；

transplanted　from　some　ancient　mysterious　empire。　　When　I　come　into

the　man's　presence　I　feel　instinctively　the　grip　of　his　intellect。

I　tell　you；　St。　Clair；　Randolph　Mason　is　the　mysterious　man　of　New

York。〃



At　this　moment　a　messenger　boy　came　into　the　room　and　handed　Mr。

Walcott　a　telegram。　　〃St。　Clair；〃　said　that　gentleman；　rising；　〃the

directors　of　the　Elevated　are　in　session；　and　we　must　hurry。〃　　The

two　men　put　on　their　coats　and　left　the　house。



Samuel　Walcott　was　not　a　club　man　after　the　manner　of　the　Smart

Set；　and　yet　he　was　in　fact　a　club　man。　　He　was　a　bachelor　in　the

latter　thirties；　and　resided　in　a　great　silent　house　on　the　avenue。

On　the　street　he　was　a　man　of　substance；　shrewd　and　progressive；

backed　by　great　wealth。　　He　had　various　corporate　interests　in　the

larger　syndicates；　but　the　basis　and　foundation　of　his　fortune　was

real　estate。　　His　houses　on　the　avenue　were　the　best　possible

property；　and　his　elevator　row　in　the　importers'　quarter　was　indeed

a　literal　gold　mine。　　It　was　known　that；　many　years　before；　his

grandfather　had　died　and　left　him　the　property；　which；　at　that

time；　was　of　no　great　value。　　Young　Walcott　had　gone　out　into　the

gold…fields　and　had　been　lost　sight　of　and　forgotten。　　Ten　years

afterwards　he　had　turned　up　suddenly　in　New　York　and　taken

possession　of　his　property；　then　vastly　increased　in　value。　　His

speculations　were　almost　phenomenally　successful；　and；　backed　by

the　now　enormous　value　of　his　real　property；　he　was　soon　on　a　level

with　the　merchant　princes。　　His　judgment　was　considered　sound；　and

he　had　the　full　confidence　of　his　business　associates　for　safety

and　caution。　　Fortune　heaped　up　riches　around　him　with　a　lavish

hand。　　He　was　unmarried　and　the　halo　of　his　wealth　caught　the　keen

eye　of　the　matron　with　marriageable　daughters。　　He　was　invited　out；

caught　by　the　whirl　of　society；　and　tossed　into　its　maelstrom。　　In

a　measure　he　reciprocated。　　He　kept　horses　and　a　yacht。　　His

dinners　at　Delmonico's　and　the　club　were　above　reproach。　　But　with

all　he　was　a　silent　man　with　a　shadow　deep　in　his　eyes；　and　seemed

to　court　the　society　of　his　fellows；　not　because　he　loved　them；　but

because　he　either　hated　or　feared　solitude。　　For　years　the　strategy

of　the　match…maker　had　gone　gracefully　afield；　but　Fate　is

relentless。　　If　she　shields　the　victim　from　the　traps　of　men；　it　is

not　because　she　wishes　him　to　escape；　but　because　she　is　pleased　to

reserve　him　for　her　own　trap。　　So　it　happened　that；　when　Virginia

St。　Clair　assisted　Mrs。　Miriam　Steuvisant　at　her　midwinter

reception；　this　same　Samuel　Walcott　fell　deeply　and　hopelessly　and

utterly　in　love；　and　it　was　so　apparent　to　the　beaten　generals

present；　that　Mrs。　Miriam　Steuvisant　applauded　herself；　so　to

speak；　with　encore　after　encore。　　It　was　good　to　see　this

courteous；　silent　man　literally　at　the　feet　of　the　young　debutante。

He　was　there　of　right。　　Even　the　mothers　of　marriageable　daughters

admitted　that。　　The　young　girl　was　brown…haired；　brown…eyed；　and

tall　enough；　said　the　experts；　and　of　the　blue　blood　royal；　with

all　the　grace；　courtesy；　and　inbred　genius　of　such　princely

heritage。



Perhaps　it　was　objected　by　the　censors　of　the　Smart　Set　that　Miss

St。　Clair's　frankness　and　honesty　were　a　trifle　old…fashioned；　and

that　she　was　a　shadowy　bit　of　a　Puritan；　and　perhaps　it　was　of

these　same　qualities　that　Samuel　Walcott　received　his　hurt。　　At　any

rate　the　hurt　was　there　and　deep；　and　the　new　actor　stepped　up　into

the　old　time…worn；　semi…tragic　drama；　and　began　his　role　with　a

tireless；　utter　sincerity　that　was　deadly　dangerous　if　he　lost。





II





Perhaps　a　week　after　the　conversation　between　St。　Clair　and

Walcott；　Randolph　Mason　stood　in　the　private　waiting…room　of　the

club　with　his　hands　behind　his　back。



He　was　a　man　apparently　in　the　middle　forties；　tall　and　reasonably

broad　across　the　shoulders；　muscular　without　being　either　stout　or

lean。　　His　hair　was　thin　and　of　a　brown　color；　with　erratic　streaks

of　gray。　　His　forehead　was　broad　and　high　and　of　a　faint　reddish

color。　　His　eyes　were　restless　inky　black；　and　not　over…large。　　The

nose　was　big　and　muscular　and　bowed。　　The　eyebrows　were　black　and

heavy；　almost　bushy。　　There　were　heavy　furrows；　running　from　the

nose　downward　and　outward　to　the　corners　of　the　mouth。　　The　mouth

was　straight　and　the　jaw　was　heavy；　and　square。



Looking　at　the　face　of　Randolph　Mason　from　above；　the　expression　in

repose　was　crafty　and　cynical；　viewed　from　below　upward；　it　was

savage　and　vindictive；　almost　brutal；　while　from　the　front；　if

looked　squarely　in　the　face；　the　stranger　was　fascinated　by　the

animation　of　the　man　and　at　once　concluded　that　his　expression　was

fearless　and　sneering。　　He　was　evidently　of　Southern　extraction　and

a　man　of　unusual　power。



A　fire　smoldered　on　the　hearth。　　It　was　a　crisp　evening　in　the

early　fall；　and　with　that　far…off　touch　of　melancholy　which　ever

heralds　the　coming　winter；　even　in　the　midst　of　a　city。　　The　man's

face　looked　tired　and　ugly。　　His　long　white　hands　were　clasped

tight　together。　　His　entire　figure　and　face　wore　every　mark　of

weakness　and　physical　exhaustion；　but　his　eyes　contradicted。　　They

were　red　and　restless。



In　the　private　dining…room　the　dinner　party　was　in　the　best　of

spirits。　　Samuel　Walcott　was　happy。　　Across　the　table　from　him　was

Miss　Virginia　St。　Clair；　radiant；　a　tinge　of　color　in　her　cheeks。

On　either　side；　Mrs。　Miriam　Steuvisant　and　Marshall　St。　Clair　were

brilliant　and　lighthearted。　　Walcott　looked　at　the　young　girl　and

the　measure　of　his　worship　was　full。　　He　wondered　for　the

thousandth　time　how　she　could　possibly　love　him　and　by　what　earthly

miracle　she　had　come　to　accept　him；　and　how　it　would　be　always　to

have　her　across　the　table　from　him；　his　own　table　in　his　own　house。



They　were　about　to　rise　from　the　table　when　one　of　the　waiters

entered　the　room　and　handed　Walcott　an　envelope。　　He　thrust　it

quickly　into　his　pocket。　　In　the　confusion　of　rising　the　others　did

not　notice　him；　but　his　face　was　ash　white　and　his　hands　trembled

violently　as　he　placed　the　wraps　around　the　bewitching　shoulders　of

Miss　St。　Clair。



〃Marshall；〃　he　said；　and　despite　the　powerful　effort　his　voice　was

hollow；　〃you　will　see　the　ladies　safely　cared　for；　I　am　called　to

attend　a　grave　matter。〃



〃All　right；　Walcott；〃　answered　the　young　man；　with　cheery　good

nature；　〃you　are　too　serious；　old　man；　trot　along。〃



〃The　poor　dear；〃　murmured　Mrs。　Steuvisant；　after　Walcott　had　helped

them　to　the　carriage　and　turned　to　go　up　the　steps　of　the　club；

〃The　poor　dear　is　hard　hit；　and　men　are　such　funny　creatures　when

they　are　hard　hit。〃



Samuel　Walcott；　as　his　fate　would；　went　direct　to　the　private

writing…room　and　opened　the　door。　　The　lights　were　not　turned　on

and　in　the　dark　he　did　not　see　Mason　motionless　by　the　mantel…

shelf。　　He　went　quickly　across　the　room　to　the　writing…table；

turned　on　one　of　the　lights；　and；　taking　the　envelope　from　his

pocket；　tore　it　open。　　Then　he　bent　down　by　the　light　to　read　the

contents。　　As　his　eyes　ran　over　the　paper；　his　jaw　fell。　　The　skin

drew　away　from　his　cheekbones　and　his　face　seemed　literally　to　sink

in。　　His　knees　gave　way　under　him　and　he　would　have　gone　down　in　a

heap　had　it　not　been　for　Mason's　long　arms　that　closed　around　him

and　held　him　up。　　The　human　economy　is　ever　mysterious。　　The　moment

the　new　danger　threatened；　the　latent　power　of　the　man　as　an

animal；　hidden　away　in　the　centers　of　intelligence；　asserted

itself。　　His　hand　clutched　the　paper　and；　with　a　half　slide；　he

turned　in　Mason's　arms。　　For　a　moment　he　stared　up　at　the　ugly　man

whose　thin　arms　felt　like　wire　ropes。



〃You　are　under　the　dead…fall；　aye；〃　said　Mason。　　〃The　cunning　of　my

enemy　is　sublime。〃



〃Your　enemy？〃　gasped　Walcott。　　〃When　did　you　come　into　it？　　How　in

God's　name　did　you　know　it？　　How　your　enemy？〃



Mason　looked　down　at　the　wide　bulging　eyes　of　the　man。



〃Who　should　know　better　than　I？〃　he　said。　　〃Haven't　I　broken

through　all　the　traps　and　plots　that　she　could　set？〃



〃She？　　She　trap　you？〃　　The　man's　voice　was　full　of　horror。



〃The　old　schemer；〃　muttered　Mason。　　〃The　cowardly　old　schemer；　to

strike　in　the　back；　but　we　can　beat　her。　　She　did　not　count　on　my

helping　youI；　who　know　her　so　well。〃



Mason's　face　was　red；　and　his　eyes　burned。　　In　the　midst　of　it　all