Families -- Fiction; Forgery -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
Ormsby greeted Dick's mother with marked coldness. He extended to her the
politeness accorded to an enemy before a duel. He motioned her to a seat
near his desk, and took up a position on the hearthrug. His pale face was
hard set, and his dark eyes gleamed. His hands were clenched behind his
back, and his whole attitude was that of a man holding himself in check.
The very mention of the name of Swinton was enough to fill his brain with
madness.
"I have come to pay you some money," said Mrs. Swinton quietly, as she
unfastened the catch of her muff bag. "Here is a check for seven thousand
dollars. It is the sum required by you to make good the discrepancy in my
father's account with your bank. He is an old man in his dotage; and, as
he repudiates his checks, you must not be the loser." She spoke in a dull
voice--a monotone--as though repeating a lesson learnt by heart.
Ormsby was rather staggered. How Mrs. Swinton could raise seven thousand
dollars without getting it from Herresford was a mystery, and he had
never expected the miser to disgorge.
"May I ask you why you bring this money?" he demanded, at last.
"I have explained."
"I hope you don't think, Mrs. Swinton, that we are going to compound a
felony, just because the criminal's family pursues the proper course, and
reimburses our bank."
"Of course I do. When the money is paid, my family affairs are no
business of yours."
"A warrant is out for your son's arrest, Mrs. Swinton, and we shall have
him to-night. It pains me exceedingly to have to take this course,
but--"
"You hypocrite!" she cried, starting up. "You are taking an unfair
advantage of your position. You are playing a mean, contemptible trick.
You are jealous of my son. Your action is not that of a man, but of a
coward. Are you not satisfied with having robbed him of his wife that you
must hound him down?"
"On the contrary, your son has robbed me of the woman I love," said
Ormsby, with cutting emphasis, "and he shall not have her. She may not
marry me, but she shall not mate with a felon."
"If it is money you want, you shall have more."
"You insult me, Mrs. Swinton. It is not the money I care about. It is the
principle. Your son insulted me publicly--struck me like a drunken
brawler--and worked upon the feelings of a pure and innocent woman, who
will break her father's heart if she persists in the mad course she has
adopted. But she'll change her mind, when she sees your son in
handcuffs."
"It must not be! It must not be!" cried the guilty woman. "If you were a
man and a gentleman, you would not let personal spite and jealousy come
into a matter like this. You would not ruin my son for life, and break my
heart, because you cannot have the girl, who pledged herself to Dick
before you had any chance with her. You'll be cut by every decent person.
Every door will be shut against you. If you do what you threaten,
everyone shall know the truth--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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