From that hour of night and wormwood, Mr. Bayard was another individual.
He gave men his acquaintance, but not his faith; he listened and never
believed; he had allies, not friends, and the limits of his confidence
in a man were the limits of that man's interest.
And yet in this arctic hardness there remained one generous spot. There
was one name to retain a sweetness and a perfume for Mr. Bayard that one
finds in flowers, and the perishing years had not withered it on the
hillsides of his regard. When Mr. Bayard went down on that day of storm
and the dark waters of defeat and bankruptcy closed above him, there had
been stretched one hand to save. Dudley Storms was hardly known to Mr.
Bayard, for the former was of your silent, retiring men whom no one
discovers until the time of need. His sort was evidenced on this
occasion. He did not send to Mr. Bayard, he came. He told him by
shortest possible sentences that his fortune was at his, Mr. Bayard's,
disposal to put him again upon his feet. And Mr. Bayard availed himself
of the aid thus proffered; he regained his feet; he paid off his
bankruptcy of two millions; he repaid Dudley Storms; and then he went
on--and no more slips or treason-founded setbacks--to pile up new
millions for himself.
Following that one visit of succor from Dudley Storms, he and Mr. Bayard
were no oftener in one another's company than before. The former
retreated into his native reticence and the fastnesses of his own
multitudinous affairs, coming no more to Mr. Bayard, who did not require
help. Dudley Storms was a lake of fire in a rim of ice, as somebody
somewhere once said of someone else, and labored under peculiarities of
temperament and trait-contradictions which you may have observed in
Richard. For his side, Mr. Bayard, proudly sensitive, while he never
forgot, never failed to feel in the edge of that saving favor done him
by Dudley Storms the edge of a sword; and this served to hold him aloof
from one who any hour might have had his life and fortune, without a
question, to do with as he would.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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