True Riches: Wealth Without Wings

On leaving the house of Jasper, Martin—­who, instead of having been in the city only a few hours, arrived two days previously—­took his way to the office of Grind, the lawyer.  He had seen this individual already several times, and now called on him again by appointment.  The two men, on meeting, exchanged looks of intelligence.

“Did you see him?” asked the lawyer, as Martin took a proffered chair.

“I saw him,” was replied.

“Can you make any thing out of him?’

“I think so.  He fights a little hard; but the odds are against him.”

“How much did you ask him to loan you?”

“Ten thousand?”

“Martin!  That’s cutting a little too sharp.”

“Not a hit.  He’ll never miss such a trifle.”

“You can’t bleed him that deep,” said the lawyer.

“Can’t I?  You’ll see; I could get twenty thousand.  But I’m disposed to be generous.  Ten thousand I must and will have.”

And the man laughed in a low, self-satisfied, sinister chuckle.

“He’s able enough,” remarked Grind.

“So you have told me.  And if he is able, he must pay.  I helped him to a fortune, and it is but fair that he should help me a little, now that a fortune is in my grasp.  I only want the money as a loan.”

“Wouldn’t five thousand answer your purpose?” asked the lawyer.  “That is a large sum.  It is not a very easy matter for even a rich man, who is engaged heavily in business, to lay down ten thousand dollars at call.”

“Five thousand will not do, Mr. Grind.”

“Jasper has lost, to my certain knowledge, twenty thousand dollars in three months.”

“So much?”

“At least that sum.  Money came in so fast, that he grew a little wild in his speculations, and played his cards with the dashing boldness of a gambler while in a run of luck.  I cautioned him, but to no good purpose.  One of his latest movements had been to put fifty or sixty thousand dollars in a cotton factory?”

“Poh!  What folly.”

“A most egregious blunder.  But he fancies himself an exceedingly shrewd man.”

“He has been remarkably fortunate in his operations.”

“So he has.  But he is more indebted, I think, to good luck than to a sound judgment.  He has gone up to dizzy height so rapidly, that his weak head is already beginning to swim.”

“What has become of that pretty little ward of his?” asked Martin, somewhat abruptly.

“Why didn’t you put that question to him?” replied Grind.  “You would have been more likely to get a satisfactory answer.”

“I may do so after I have the ten thousand dollars in my pocket.  That was rather a shameful business, though; wasn’t it?  I never had a very tender conscience, but I must own to having suffered a few twinges for my part in the transaction.  He received over a hundred thousand dollars for the land?”

“Yes; and that clear of some heavy fees that you and I claimed for services rendered.”

“Humph!  I’m not quite paid yet.  But, touching the child, Mr. Grind:  don’t you know any thing about her?”

“Nothing, personally.”

“What was it Jasper paid for the tract of land?”

“One thousand dollars.”

“Paid it into his own hands as the child’s guardian.”

“Yes; that was the simple transaction.”

“Has the public never made a guess at the real truth of this matter?”

“Never, so far as my knowledge goes.  There have been some vague whisperings—­but no one has seemed to comprehend the matter.”

“The purchase was made in your name, was it not?”

“Yes.”

“That is, you bought from Jasper as the child’s guardian; and afterward sold it back to him.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you hold on to it when it was fairly in your hands?  I only wish I had been in your place?”

The lawyer shrugged his shoulders, but did not commit himself by acknowledging that he had, more than once, regretted his omission to claim the property while legally in his hands, and defy Jasper to wrest it from him.

Leaving these two men, whose relation to Jasper is sufficiently apparent to the reader’s mind, we will return to the merchant, whom we left half-stupefied at the bold demand of an associate in wrong-doing.  A long time passed ere his activity of mind returned.  While he sat, brooding—­dreamily—­over what had just passed, a little daughter came into the parlour, and seeing him, came prattling merrily to his side.  But in attempting to clamber upon his knee, she was pushed away rudely, and with angry words.  For a few moments she stood looking at him, her little breast rising and falling rapidly; then she turned off, and went slowly, and with a grieving heart, from the room.

Jasper sighed heavily as the child passed out of sight; and rising up, began moving about with a slow pace, his eyes cast upon the floor.  The more he dwelt upon the visit of Martin—­whom, in his heart, he had wished dead—­the more uneasy he felt, and the more he regretted having let him depart in anger.  He would give twice ten thousand dollars rather than meet the exposure which this man could make.

Riches was the god of Leonard Jasper.  Alas! how little power was there in riches to make his heart happy.  Wealth beyond what he had hoped to obtain in a whole lifetime of devotion to mammon, had flowed in upon him in two or three short years.  But, was he a happier man?  Did he enjoy life with a keener zest?  Was his sleep sweeter?  Ah, no!  In all that went to make up the true pleasure of life, the humble clerk, driven to prolonged hours of labour, beyond what his strength could well bear, through his ill-nature and injustice, was far the richer man.  And his wealth consisted not alone in the possession of a clear conscience and a sustaining trust in Providence.  There was the love of many hearts to bless him.  In real household treasures few were as rich as he.

But, in home treasures, how poor was Leonard Jasper!  Poor to the extreme of indigence!  The love of his children, reaching toward him spontaneously its tendrils, he rejected in the selfish devotion of every thought and feeling to business as a means of acquiring wealth.  And as to the true riches, which many around him were laying up where no moth could corrupt nor thieves break through and steal, he rejected them as of no account.

With such a man as Leonard Jasper, holding the position of head of a family, how little of the true home spirit, so full of tenderness and mutual love, is to be expected!  Had Mrs. Jasper been less a woman of the world; had she been capable of loving any thing out of herself, and, therefore, of loving her husband and children, with that true love which seeks their higher good, a different state of things would have existed in this family, spite of Jasper’s unfeeling sordidness.  But, as it was, no fire of love melted the natural perverseness inherited by the children, and they grew up, cherishing mutual antagonism, and gradually coming to regard their parents only as persons with power to thwart their inclinations, or as possessing the means of gratifying their desires.

With all his wealth, how few were the real sources of happiness possessed by Jasper!  Pressed down with anxiety about the future, and forced to toil beyond his strength, how many of life’s truest blessings were poured into the lap of Edward Claire!

The sleep of the poor clerk, that night, was sound and refreshing.  The merchant tossed to and fro on his pillow until long after the midnight watches advanced upon the morning; and then, when wearied nature claimed her due, he slept only for brief periods, continually startled by frightful dreams.

At an early hour next day, he called upon Grind, who was still his legal adviser.

“Have you seen Martin?” he asked the moment he entered the office.

“Martin!  Surely he is not in the city!” returned Grind evasively.

“He surely is,” said Jasper, fretfully.

“Martin.  Where in the world did he come from?  I thought him somewhere in the neighbourhood of the Rocky Mountains.  What does he want?

“No good, of course.”

“That may be said safely.  Have you seen him?”

“Yes.”

“When?  This morning?”

“No; he called at my house last night.”

“Called last night!  What did he want?”

“Ten thousand dollars,” replied Jasper.

“Ten thousand dollars!!” The lawyer’s well-feigned surprise completed the deception practised upon Jasper.  He did not, for an instant, suspect collusion between him and Martin.

“Yes; he very coolly proposed that I should lend him that sum, enable him to carry on some lead-mining operations in the west.”

“Preposterous!”

“So I told him.”

“Well, what did he say?”

“Oh, he blustered, and made covert threats of exposure, of course.”

“The scoundrel!” said Grind, fiercely.

“He’s a villain double-dyed.  I have never ceased to regret that we brought him into this business.  We should have had a man of better spirit—­of a nicer sense of honour.”

“Yes, Mr. Jasper, that is true enough,” replied Grind; “but the mischief is, your men of nicer honour are too squeamish for the kind of work in which we employed him.  This is the defect in all such operations.  Men cannot be thoroughly trusted.”

The merchant sighed.  He felt too deeply the force of Grind’s remark.

“You know,” said he, “this Martin better than I do.  What is his character?  Is he a mere blusterer, whose bark is worse than his bite; or is he vindictive and unscrupulous?”

“Both vindictive and unscrupulous.  I must warn you not to provoke his ill-will.  He would take delight in exposing all he knows about this business, if he is once fairly turned against you.  A fast friend—­he is a bitter enemy.”

“But see what a price he demands for his friendship!  I have already given him some five thousand dollars for his services, and now he demands ten more.  In a year he will be back, and coolly seek to levy a contribution of twenty thousand dollars.”

“I understood you to say that he only asked for a loan,” remarks the lawyer.

“A loan!  That’s mere mockery.  If you placed ten thousand dollars in his hands, would you ever expect to see the first copper of it again?”

Grind shrugged his shoulders.

“Of course you would not.  It’s a levy, not a loan—­and so he, in his heart, regards it.”

“He’s a dangerous man,” said the lawyer, “and it’s to be regretted that you ever had any thing to do with him.  But, now that your hand is in the lion’s mouth, the wisest thing is to get it out with as little detriment as possible.”

“Ten thousand dollars!” ejaculated the merchant.  “Why, it’s downright robbery!  He might just as well stop me on the highway.”

“It’s a hard case, I must own, Mr. Jasper.  You might resist him, and, at least not let him obtain what he demands without a struggle; but the question is, may you not receive a mortal wound in the contest.”

“Ah! that is the rub, Grind.  Rather than meet the exposure he could make, I would give twenty thousand dollars; yea, half, if not all I am worth.”

Can wealth, held on such a tenure, and in such a state of mind, be called riches?  Ah, no.  How the possession is changed from a blessing into a curse!

“Then, Mr. Jasper,” replied the lawyer, “there is but one course plain before you.  If you make this man your enemy, he will surely pursue you to the death.  There is no pity in him.”

Jasper groaned aloud.  Ere he could reply, the door of the office opened, and the individual about whom they were conversing entered.  With the skill of practised actors, each instantly assumed a part, and hid, under a false exterior, their true states of mind.  With something of cordiality each greeted the other:  while side-glances, unobserved by Jasper, passed rapidly between Martin and the lawyer.  A few commonplace inquiries and remarks followed, when Jasper made a movement to go, saying, as he did so—­

“Mr. Martin, I will be pleased to see you some time to-day.”

“Thank you; I will do myself the pleasure to call,” was coolly answered.  “At what time will you be most at leisure?”

“During the afternoon.  Say at four or five o’clock.”

“I will be there at four,” returned Martin, in a bland voice, and with a courteous inclination of the head.

“Very well—­you will find me in.”

The merchant bowed to the accomplices—­they were nothing better—­and retired.

“Humph!  I didn’t expect to find him here quite so early,” said Martin, with a sinister smile.  “I rather guess I frightened him last night.”

“I rather guess you did,” returned the lawyer, his countenance reflecting the light that played on the other’s face.

“Will the money come?” asked Martin.

“Undoubtedly.”

“That’s good.  Ten thousand?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?  He came to consult you, of course?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what did he say?”

“More than I need take time to repeat.  He is thoroughly frightened.  That is enough for you to know.”

“Ten thousand,” said Martin musingly, and speaking to himself.  “Ten thousand!  That will do pretty well.  But, if he will bleed for fifteen thousand, why may I not set the spring of my lancet a little deeper.  I can make good use of my money.”

“No—­no,” returned the lawyer quickly.  “Ten thousand is enough.  Don’t play the dog and the shadow.  This is over-greediness.”

“Well—­well.  Just as you say.  I can make him another friendly call in a year or so from this time.”

The lawyer smiled in a way peculiar to himself, and then said—­

“Hadn’t you better be content with five thousand now.  This goose will, no doubt, lay golden eggs for some years to come.”

“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,” was the quick answer.  “I have gone in now for the ten thousand; and ten thousand I must have.  I may be content with a smaller sum at my next appearance.”

“You are to see him at four o’clock?” said Grind.

“Yes; that was the hour I named.  So you must get all the necessary papers ready for me in time.  I don’t want to let him get the hitch on me of seeking to extort money.  I only ask a loan, and will give bona-fide security on my lead-mine.”  Then, with one of his low chuckles, he added—­“If he can get ten thousand dollars out of it, he will do more than any one else can.  Ha! ha! ha!”

“The evidence of property, which you have,” said Grind, “is all as it shows on the face?”

“It is, upon honour.”

“Very well.  Then I will draw the necessary papers, so that as little delay as possible need occur in the transference of security for the loan.”

What further passed between the parties is of no consequence to the reader.

At four o’clock, precisely, Martin was at the store of Jasper.

“I hope to find you a little more reasonable today,” said the merchant, with a forced smile, as the two men, after retiring to a remote part of the store, sat down and faced each other.

“I should be sorry to do any thing out of reason,” returned Martin.  His manner was more serious than Jasper’s.

“I think your present demand out of reason,” was answered.

“No good can possibly come, Mr. Jasper,” said Martin, with a slight air of impatience, “out of an argument between you and I, on this subject.  The sum I named to you last night I must have.  Nothing less will meet my present want.  But, understand me distinctly, I only ask it as a loan, and come prepared to give you the fullest security.”

As Mr. Martin said this, he drew a package of papers from his pocket.  “Here are the necessary documents,” he added.

“Ten thousand dollars!  Why, my dear sir, a sum like this is not to be picked up in the streets.”

“I am very well aware of that,” was the cool answer.  “Had such been the case, I never would have troubled you with procuring the sum; nor would I have gone to the expense and fatigue of a long journey.”

“You certainly ought to know enough of business, Martin, to be aware that ten thousand dollars is not always to be commanded, even by the wealthiest, at a moment’s notice.”

“I do not ask the whole sum in cash,” replied Martin.  “Three or four thousand in ready money will do.  Your notes at four and six months will answer very well for the balance.”

But we will not record further what passed between these two men.  It was all in vain that Jasper strove to escape; his adversary was too powerful.  Ere they separated, Martin had in his possession, in cash and promissory notes, the sum of ten thousand dollars!

Already were the ill-gotten riches of Leonard Jasper taking to themselves wings.  Unhappy man!  How wretched was he during that and many succeeding days!  Rolling, so to speak, in wealth, he yet possessed not life’s highest blessing, a truly contented mind, flowing from conscious rectitude and an abiding trust in Providence.  Without these, how poor is even he who counts his millions!  With them, how rich is the humble toiler, who, receiving day by day his daily bread, looks up and is thankful!