Sevenoaks: A Story of TodayHolland, J. G. (Josiah Gilbert)
General
Sevenoaks: A Story of Today
Holland, J. G. (Josiah Gilbert)
Didactic fiction; Political fiction; Social problems -- Fiction
It was known, in advance, by the combination, that the working up of the
corner in Muscogee Air Line would be a long operation. The stock had to
be manipulated with great care, to avoid exciting a suspicion of the
nature of the scheme, and the General had informed the holders of his
notes that it might be necessary for him to renew them before he should
realize from his operations. He had laid all his plans carefully, and
looked forward with an interest which none but he and those of his kind
could appreciate, to the excitements, intrigues, marches and
counter-marches of the mischievous campaign.
And then came down upon him the prosecution which he had so long
dreaded, and for which he had made the only preparation consistent with
his greedy designs. Ten thousand dollars of his ready money passed at
once into the hands of Mr. Cavendish, and Mr. Cavendish was satisfied
with the fee, whatever may have been his opinion of the case. After a
last examination of his forged assignment, and the putting of Phipps to
an exhaustive and satisfactory trial of his memory with relation to it,
he passed it into the lawyer's hands, and went about his business with
uncomfortable forebodings of the trial and its results.
It was strange, even to him, at this point of his career, that he felt
within himself no power to change his course. No one knew better than
he, that there was money enough in Benedict's inventions for both
inventor and manufacturer. No one knew better than he, that there was a
prosperous course for himself inside the pale of equity and law, yet he
found no motive to walk there. For the steps he had taken, there seemed
no retreat. He must go on, on, to the end. The doors that led back to
his old life had closed behind him. Those which opened before were not
inviting, but he could not stand still. So he hardened his face, braced
his nerves, stiffened his determination, and went on.
Of course he passed a wretched summer. He had intended to get away for
rest, or, rather, for an exhibition of himself and his equipage at
Newport, or Saratoga, or Long Branch; but through all the burning days
of the season he was obliged to remain in the city, while other men were
away and off their guard, to watch his Wall street operations, and
prepare for the _coup de grace_ by which he hoped to regain his lost
treasure and his forfeited position. The legal trial that loomed up
before him, among the clouds of autumn, could not be contemplated
without a shiver, and a sinking of the heart. His preparations for it
were very simple, as they mainly related to the establishment of the
genuineness of his assignment.
The months flew away more rapidly with the proprietor than with any of
the other parties interested in the suit, and when, at last, only a
fortnight was wanting to the time of the expected trial, Mr. Balfour
wrote to Number Nine, ordering his family home, and requiring the
presence of Mr. Benedict, Mrs. Dillingham, Harry and Jim.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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