A Knight of the Nineteenth CenturyRoe, Edward Payson
General
A Knight of the Nineteenth Century
Roe, Edward Payson
Fiction
Thus Mr. Arnot's system again ground out the expected result; but the
plague of humanity was that it would not endure the grinding process
with the same stolid, inert helplessness of other raw material. Though
he had had his way in each instance, he grew more and more dissatisfied
and out of sorts. This vituperation of himself would not tend to impress
his employes with awe, and strike a wholesome fear in their hearts. The
culprits, instead of slinking away overwhelmed with guilt and the weight
of his displeasure, had acted and spoken as if he were a grim old
tyrant; and he had a vague, uncomfortable feeling that his clerks in
their hearts sided with them and against him. It even occurred to him
that he was creating a relation between himself and those in his service
similar to that existing between master and slaves; and that, instead of
forming a community with identical interests, he was on one side and
they on the other. But, with the infatuation of a selfish nature and
imperious will, he muttered:
"Curse them! I'll make them move in my grooves, or toss them out of the
way!" Then, summoning his confidential clerk, he said:
"You know all about the affair. You will oblige me by going to the
office of the justice, and stating the case, with the prisoner's
admissions. I do not care to appear further in the matter, except by
proxy, unless it is necessary."
CHAPTER XII
A MEMORABLE MEETING
Mrs. Arnot had looked upon Haldane's degradation with feelings akin to
disgust and anger, but as long, sleepless hours passed, her thoughts
grew more gentle and compassionate. She was by nature an advocate rather
than a judge. Not the spirit of the disciples, that would call down fire
from heaven, but the spirit of the Master, who sought to lay his
healing, rescuing hand on every lost creature, always controlled her
eventually. Human desert did not count as much with her as human need,
and her own sorrows had made her heart tender toward the sufferings of
others, even though well merited.
The prospect that the handsome youth, the son of her old friend, would
cast himself down to perish in the slough of dissipation, was a tragedy
that wrung her heart with grief; and when at last she fell asleep it was
with tears upon her face.
Forebodings had followed Laura also, even into her dreams, and at last,
in a frightful vision, she saw her uncle placing a giant on guard over
the house. Her uncle had scarcely disappeared before Haldane tried to
escape, but the giant raised his mighty club, as large and heavy as the
mast of a ship, and was about to strike when she awoke with a violent
start.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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