XXVI
TWO mornings later Dr. Cheyney finished his breakfast in abstracted silence; not even Miss Lucinda’s best rice griddle-cakes calling forth a word of approval. He had been talking over the telephone with Diana Royall. He finished his perfunctory examination of the daily paper, which was full of the flight of Jacob Eaton, the collapse of the Eaton Investment Company, the ruin of many prominent citizens, and the illness of Mrs. Eaton, who had been sent at once to a private sanitarium in the city.
The absorbing topic of Eaton had almost swallowed up the hitherto absorbing topic of Caleb Trench, though Caleb once more loomed up, directing the forces of the opposition.
The doctor folded the paper viciously and put it in his pocket, then he went out and climbed into his old buggy; he remembered quite distinctly that other morning when he had climbed into it at six o’clock to drive past the Eatons at a convenient hour. It might be said that the old man was so hardened in kindly iniquity that his conscience never suffered a single twinge. He and old Henk traveled more slowly up the hill, however, than on that previous occasion.As he approached Broad Acres he was struck with the dreary aspect of the autumn, and noticed that even the house itself looked less cheerful. He had seen Colonel Royall’s name on every quotation of losses in the Eaton Company, and he drew his own conclusions.
At the door Diana met him. She was very pale.
“Dear Dr. Cheyney,� she said, holding out both hands, “it’s a relief to see you! I couldn’t tell you over the ’phone—but—� She stopped, her lips trembled.
“What is it, Diana?� the old man asked gently.
“You know the Shut Room?� She looked up imploringly.
The silence of the house behind her seemed impenetrable; the long hall was vacant.
“I know,� said the doctor, and Diana understood that he knew even more than she did.
“He’s been sitting there alone; he will not let me stay with him,� she explained.
Dr. Cheyney stood a moment in some doubt, his hand at his chin in a familiar attitude of thought. His gospel refused to intrude into the confidence of any one, but there were cases where it might be an absolute necessity to interfere; the question which confronted him was whether or not this was one of these rare instances.
“How long has it been?� he asked finally.
“Two whole days,� replied Diana, “and he has scarcely eaten a mouthful. This morning he tookonly one cup of coffee; he looks like death. And you know how it is,—that room always affects him so, he never seems himself after he has been there. Sometimes,� she added passionately, “sometimes—I wish I could wall it up!�
“I wish you could!� said Dr. Cheyney devoutly.
“He sits there and looks out of the window: and twice he has forbidden me to come there,� Diana went on. “What can I do? It—it breaks my heart to see him so, and I’m sure my mother would not wish it, but he will not listen to that.�
The old doctor’s lips came together in a sharp line: without another word he turned and went up the stairs, reluctance in his step. At the landing was a stained glass window, the work of a famous European artist, and the doctor glanced at it with a certain weariness: personally he preferred plate glass and a long glimpse of level fields. He had reached the head of the second broad flight now, and the second door to the left of the wide hall was ajar, the door which was usually shut and locked. Where the doctor stood he could see across the room, for one of the window shutters was open, and it looked still as it had looked twenty-three years before, when Diana was born. There were the same soft and harmonious coloring, the same rich old furniture, the deep-hued Turkey rug on the polished floor, the spotless ruffled curtains. It was unchanged. Life may change a thousand times while these inanimate things remain to mock us with their endurance. The doctor moved resolutelyforward and pushed open the door. Colonel Royall was sitting erect in a high-backed chair in the center of the room, his hands clasping the arms, his head bowed, and his kindly blue eyes staring straight before him. He was singularly pale and seemed to have aged twenty years. Dr. Cheyney walked slowly across the room and laid his hand on his old friend’s shoulder,—they had been boys together.
“Is it as bad as that, Davy?� he asked.
Colonel Royall roused himself with an apparent effort, and looked up with an expression in which patient endurance and great grief were strongly mingled. There was a touch, too, of dignity and reluctance in his manner, yet if he resented the doctor’s intrusion he was too courteous to show it. “I’m pretty hard hit, William,� he said simply, “pretty hard hit all around; there’s not much more to be said—that hasn’t been said already on the street corners and in the market-place.�
His wounded pride showed through his manner without destroying his delicate restraint.
The doctor drew a chair beside him and sat down unasked. His sympathy was a beautiful thing and needed no voicing; it reached out imperceptible feelers and made him intuitively aware of the raw cut where not even tenderness may lay a finger.
“It’s not all gone, David?� he inquired.
Colonel Royall ran his fingers through his thick white hair. “Pretty much all, William,� he saidmechanically; “the place here is free, unmortgaged, I mean, and I reckon I can hold the property in Virginia, but the rest—� He raised his hands with a significant and pathetic gesture; he had fine old hands, and they had saved and directed from his youth up until now—to this end! To have trusted too deeply to an unworthy relative. William Cheyney leaned back in his chair; the awful actuality of the calamity was borne in upon him, and he remembered, even at that moment, his feeling of confidence in the stability of Colonel Royall’s fortune, though, sometimes, he had doubted the colonel’s money sense. There was sometimes, too, a terrible synchronism between ruin and mental collapse. He looked keenly at the old man before him, who seemed suddenly shrunken and gray, and he was troubled by the absent expression of the mild blue eyes; it was almost a look of vacancy. He laid his hand tenderly on the other’s arm.
“Davy, man,� he said, “cheer up; there are worse things than financial losses.�
The colonel recalled himself apparently from very distant scenes and gazed at him reproachfully. “No one can know that better than I,� he said, with a touch of bitterness.
The doctor stretched out his hand with a bowed head. “Forgive me, David,� he said simply.
“There’s nothing to forgive,� replied Colonel Royall. “I let you say things, William, that other men could not say to me. But this is a bitter hour;my youth was not idle, I never knew an idle day, and I laid up a fortune in place of my father’s competence; I wanted to spend my old age in peace, and I trusted my affairs to a rogue. By gum, I hate to call my cousin’s son a rascal, but it seems he is! Not half the burden, though, lies in my own loss; it’s the thought of all these poor people he has ruined. Women and girls and old men who had savings—all gone in the Eaton Investment Company. What was it Caleb Trench stated about that company? It seems as if I couldn’t understand it all, I’m—I’m dizzy!� The colonel touched his forehead apprehensively.
The doctor regarded him thoughtfully over his spectacles, but he made no reservations. “Well, there isn’t any investment company; that’s about the size of it, David,� he said reluctantly. “People bought their shares and got—waste paper. They say Jacob used lots of the money campaigning; it isn’t charged that he wanted it for himself.�
“I’ve always held that blood was thicker than water,� said Colonel Royall, “and Jacob is a thief—a thief, sir!� he added, putting aside an interruption from the doctor with a wide sweep of the hand. “He’s robbed hundreds in this State because his name, his family, stood for honesty, business reputation, honor—and once I thought him fit to be my confidant!�
“We’re all deceived sometimes, David,� said the doctor soothingly, watching him with his keen skillful look, “we’re not omniscient; if we were, there’d be a lot more folks in jail, I reckon. I wouldn’t take itto heart; Jacob was on his own responsibility; they can’t blame you.�
“They ought to,� declared the colonel passionately. “I’m an old man, I’m his relative; it was my business to know what he was doing. And there’s poor Jinny! I wanted her to come here, so did Diana, and you packed her off to a sanitarium.�
“To be sure,� said Dr. Cheyney grimly; “there’s no need of having three lunatics instead of one. Jinny’s nerves were about wrecked, she needs quiet, and she’ll come out well enough; it’s not Jinny I’m worried about. You let Jacob go, don’t you shoulder Jacob; no one thinks you’re to blame!�
Colonel Royall let his clenched hand fall on the arm of his chair. “The disgrace of it!� he said, and his lips trembled. “I’ve had my share of disgrace, William!�
Dr. Cheyney rose abruptly and walked to the window. Through the open shutter he could see, from this side of the house, the distant river, and near at hand was a tall jingo tree, yellow as gold with autumn. The other trees stood half naked against the sky. Below him a few white chickens strayed on the lawn unrebuked.
“You see more of the river since the railroad cut that last crossing,� Colonel Royall remarked irrelevantly, “and have you noticed how late the jingo stays in leaf? It was so the year that—� He stopped.
The doctor turned and fixed an irate eye upon him.
Colonel Royall was leaning forward, his eyes fixed absently on the window, yet he had felt instinctively the doctor’s attitude. “It may be folly,� he pleaded, as if in extenuation, “but I don’t want the place changed; it was like this when she was happy here and�—his head sank lower—“I’ve got to sell it! I’ve got to sell it—oh, my God!�
The doctor went over and took hold of him. “Davy!� he said fiercely, “Davy, you’ve got to get out of here! I’m glad it’s to be sold; have done with it! You’ve got to eat and drink and sleep or you’ll—�
He stopped, his hands still on his old friend’s, for Colonel Royall had slipped gently into unconsciousness, and lay white and helpless in the high-backed chair.