No. 32 Main street was the most elegant store in Dalton. Silks and laces, arranged in perfect order and taste, graced its windows; the counters bore a new and polished look, and everything about it betokened unwearying care and constant watchfulness on the part of its proprietor. The clerks had a subdued look, and moved about in an automaton-like manner, like horses thoroughly broken in, or trained dogs going through with their parts. When their master passed through the store, their submissive expression was augmented, if possible; and if his keen eye detected nothing to disapprove, they shot glances of mutual congratulation at each other.

Geoffrey Haywood was not called a hard employer, nor an illiberal man, but those under him well knew that every cent they received was well and dearly earned. Nothing remiss was ever overlooked—no neglect of duty forgotten. When pay-day came, every inattention and inadvertence was found faithfully recorded against the delinquent.

Mr.Haywood himself was not bad-looking. With an erect, well-proportioned form, a luxuriant black beard and mustache always neatly combed and brushed, a fair complexion and black eyes and hair, he was called a handsome man. He had a fine set of teeth, which glistened brightly through his beard when he opened his mouth to smile. We say when he opened his mouth to smile, yet he seldom smiled. When occasion seemed to call for a look of pleasure, he would part his lips and show his teeth, but no other feature of his face altered its lines; his eyes shone no brighter—there were no crows’ feet at the corners; the embryo smile was nipped in the bud, it vanished into space, it diffused itself behind the glossy beard, and buried itself in the unfathomable depths of the glistening eyes. This movement of the mouth, this attempt at a smile, answered many purposes. It terrified delinquent debtors; it took all the starch out of a clerk whom it was desirable to awe; it sent beggars away abashed at their own audacity; it even said to the minister, “Keep on in your humble efforts, and you may possibly win my approval some day or other.”

On the day that Carlos Conrad and Leonard Lester arrived in town, Geoffrey Haywood chanced to be looking from the door of his store across the street at the hotel just as the hack drove up. He saw at once that the cousins were strangers, and that they were rather distinguished-looking.

Consequently he put on his hat and walked slowly over to the hotel, at his even, cat-like pace. No unnecessary noise did he ever make; his boots never creaked, and his cane never thumped the sidewalk or floor.

He saw on the young men’s trunk the initials “L.L.,” and “C.C.,” and read on the hotel register the names, “Carlos Conrad” and “Leonard Lester.”

The only evidence of surprise which he gave was a half-whistle, which he suppressed almost as soon as it escaped him. He immediately returned to his store and shut himself up in his private office. There he sat down and reflected as follows:

“What can this mean? Carlos is the son of old Anthony, and the colonel hates him worse than death. It can’t be that they’ve become reconciled. That would be impossible. The game was played too well and has gone on smoothly too long for that. But what can his son be doing here? and his cousin with him, too!”

Mr.Haywood’s manner, now that he was unobserved, lost something of its calm and unruffled exterior. He got up and paced the room, evidently much disturbed in mind.

“By Heaven!” he thought, “Imust find out the object of this visit. There is too much at stake to be off guard a moment. If the old man should find out the part Itook in his quarrel with his brother, Iwould in all likelihood be disturbed in my present snug berth. That cannot be the object of Carlos, though. The colonel will never see him. He will not speak to him when he finds out that he is Anthony’s son. Ha, ha! my young boy, if you have come here expecting to win favor from Colonel Conrad, you are most grandly mistaken. Ican give you that information without your taking the trouble to walk out to his house. I’ll watch you.”

The next day he observed, of course, that the two cousins called at Elm Grove, and it was with a feeling of almost terror that he noticed that they did not return for more than two hours. So disturbed with conjectures and suspicions was he that he resolved to call on Colonel Conrad at once, to satisfy the burning curiosity that tortured him.

Accordingly, in the afternoon, he set out for Elm Grove, not hurrying in the least, although so tumultuous were the feelings that raged within his breast that he would have run at the top of his speed had he acted on his natural impulse. But to act on impulse was not part of Geoffrey Haywood’s life. His policy was to be always calm, self-possessed, and unapproachable, except so far as he chose to be approached. Consequently he walked with his usual stately gait, and when he presented himself at the door of Colonel Conrad’s mansion, his manner betrayed naught but complacency and a kind of obtrusive quietness.

To the servant who answered his ring, he said:

“Ah, Barker, good afternoon. Is your master in?”

Barker said he would see, and in a few moments returned with the intelligence that his master was indisposed, and could see no one.

“Go and tell him that it’sI, Barker,” said Haywood, with some loftiness.

Barker departed again, and again returned.

“He sent me out of his room and locked the door, sir, and said as how not to disturb him no more.”

“What—ahem—are you sure you understood him aright, Barker?”

“Yes, sir, sure,” said Barker, smiling, as he thought of the very emphatic manner in which the speech had been given, which he had repeated in a somewhat modified form to Haywood.

“Is Miss Florence in?” asked the merchant.

“No, sir, she left early this morning for a visit to the Cummingses.”

Haywood stood and reflected a moment. Then he said to Barker, who had turned to depart:

“Well—ah—Barker, wait a moment. Did two young men visit your master this morning?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Could you tell me their names?”

“Well, not knowing ’em, Icouldn’t.”

“Did he see them?”

“Yes, sir, they were in his room with him more’n an hour.”

“Ah! You don’t know what their business was, of course? That is, you didn’t happen to overhear any of their conversation?”

“No, sir, only at first there was some pretty loud words passed between them, and afterward there was a good deal of talking in an ordinary tone.”

“Yes. Well it’s nothing in particular to me. Ithought possibly they might be a couple of friends of mine whom Iexpect to visit me. And, by the way, Barker, you needn’t say anything about what I’ve been asking you. Here’s a dollar. I’ve been intending to make you a present for a long time.”

Barker stared in astonishment, for it was the first instance of liberality he had ever witnessed on the part of Mr.Haywood. He stood speechless while that august personage moved slowly down the path and into the street.

“Alittle tight!” was the laconic comment as he pocketed the dollar.

Haywood walked to his store, and entered in silent meditation, almost forgetting the stereotyped glance which he was wont to cast around at his clerks, seeming to say to them:

“Isuspect you—every one of you. It’s useless for you to attempt to evade my scrutiny. It would be worse than folly for you to try to deceive me.”

This was with no appearance of inquisitiveness, but with a calm assertion of omniscience into their every thought and action as connected with his business.

No one ever knew how long he remained in his private office that night—how he pondered and sat in a brown study for hour after hour. If his rascality were to be exposed now—if Colonel Conrad should cast him off—what would become of him? Years before he had risked reputation, honor, everything, to get on the right side of his uncle, and become a partaker of the benefits of his wealth. He had succeeded. Anthony and William Conrad were taught to hate each other, and Haywood made the latter believe that he was his best friend.

William Conrad had been a colonel in the Mexican war, and during his military career had made acquaintances who subsequently induced him to invest a large portion of his means in gold mines. The investment was a profitable one, and brought him a large annual income.

And now, Haywood, who had acquired wealth and position through the aid of Colonel Conrad, was greatly disturbed at the visit of Leonard and Carlos. It suggested to his mind complete disgrace and utter ruin.

Besides, his uncle’s refusal did not add to his comfort. All in all, he was in a terribly perplexed and apprehensive state of mind. He determined to call again at Elm Grove the next morning, and, accordingly, on the following morning presented himself at the door.

“Oh, good-morning, Miss Florence. Is my uncle in?”

“Yes, Mr.Haywood, he is in, but Idoubt whether he is disengaged at present. He has been very busy yesterday and to-day.”

“Indeed! But Ithink he will see me. Iwish to talk with him for a moment on a matter of business.”

“Iwill ask him,” said the girl, “although he has given me strict orders not to be disturbed. Will you walk into the parlor in the meantime?”

He signified his assent, and she led the way. He stopped on the threshold for an instant in surprise, as he saw two young men in the room.

“Mr.Haywood,” said Florence, “permit me to introduce you to Mr.Carlos Conrad. This is Mr.Lester. Please excuse me for a moment.”

And she gracefully retired from the room, leaving the gentlemen to make the acquaintance of and entertain each other.

It was an awkward meeting. Haywood, for once in his life, was lost for something to say. Carlos eyed him steadily, and betrayed agitation. Leonard endeavored to open a conversation.

“We are on a visit to Dalton,” he said, “and called this morning to see our uncle, but he is indisposed, and we are forced to forego the pleasure of an interview with him.”

“Ah!” was Mr.Haywood’s sole comment.

“Yes, but we have had the pleasure of spending a few moments with the very lovely girl who just left us. Ijudge that you are acquainted with her. May Iask whether she is a relative of Colonel Conrad?”

“She is an adopted daughter of Colonel Conrad, who, as you doubtless know, never had any children. Her name is Florence Darley.”

“She has a beautiful face,” said Leonard.

“Yes,” said Haywood, showing three of his teeth, “everybody admires her beauty.”

At this moment the object of their conversation returned. She said:

“Colonel Conrad will see you for a moment, Mr.Haywood.”

Haywood rose from his seat, cast a barely perceptible look of triumph at the two young men, and left the parlor. He proceeded directly to his uncle’s room, and knocked. He was bade to enter.

He opened the door, expecting to see Colonel Conrad stretched out on a couch, with his dressing-gown on, a bottle of medicine by his side, and other indications of illness. But instead, there was the old man seated upright in his chair, with papers and writing material before him, staring at his visitor with an irritated expression, and looking the very reverse of weak.

“Ahem! Uncle Conrad,” began Haywood, “Icalled yester to see you, but——”

“Yes, Iknow you did,” replied the colonel, curtly. “You say you wish to see me on a matter of business. What is it?”

“Yes, it was a small matter, and not of so very much consequence. Yesterday, when you sent word that you were ill, Iwas quite troubled about you. So Ithought Iwould step up this morning——”

“Oh, then you haven’t any particular business with me. I’m perfectly well now, if that is all you want; never was in better health.”

Haywood’s thick beard concealed the flush of vexation that arose to his face. It was something new for him to meet with such a reception. But he had for a long time exercised a certain control over his uncle, and he could not give it up without a struggle. So he did not take the hint that his presence was no longer desired, but still lingered, and said:

“Two nephews of yours are in town. Iwas surprised at your receiving the son of——”

“What is it to you, sir?” asked the old man, in wrath. “My brother is dead. Our love or hate can no longer affect him. And if Ichoose to see his son, Isuppose it is my right, is it not?”

“Oh, certainly. And your brother is dead, is he? Dear me, how sudden! Well, it quite overcomes me. Ahem! Very sad that he should have departed without making restitution. But Iwas going to ask you if you could accommodate with a thousand dollars this morning.”

“No, nor a thousand cents. But stay—Iexpect a dividend to-morrow or next day from California, and then Imay let you have it. Good-morning.”

This was delivered in a very emphatic tone, and left no pretext for hesitation. So, with outward serenity but inward vexation, Haywood left the room. He did not enter the parlor again, being in no mood to converse with those who had caused him so much disturbance of mind. He passed silently through the hall, a little faster than his usual pace, and was soon on his way back to the store.

No one but himself knew the terrible agony of suspense and fear that agitated his darkened soul.