The Sword of Damocles: A Story of New York Life

"Well, Hopgood, I have a few questions to put to you this morning," said Mr. Sylvester in a restrained, but not unkindly tone.

The worthy man bowed, bestowed a salutatory roll of his eyes on Mr. Stuyvesant, and stood deferentially waiting.

"No, he cannot help us," was again Bertram's thought, and again his eyes faltered to his uncle's face, and again fell anxiously before him.

"It has not been my habit to trouble you with inquiries about your management of matters under your charge," continued Mr. Sylvester, stopping till the janitor's wandering eyes settled upon his own. "Your conduct has always been exemplary, and your attention to duty satisfactory; but I would like to ask you to-day if you have observed anything amiss with the vaults of late? anything wrong about the boxes kept there? anything in short, that excited your suspicion or caused you to ask yourself if everything was as it should be?"

The janitor's ruddy face grew pale, and his eye fell with startled inquiry on Mr. Harrington's box that still occupied the centre of the table. "No, sir," he emphatically replied, "has anything – "

But Mr. Sylvester did not wait to be questioned. "You have attended to your duties as promptly and conscientiously as usual; you have allowed no one to go to the vaults day or night, who had no business there? You have not relaxed your accustomed vigilance, or left the bank alone at any time during the hours it is under your charge?"

"No sir, not for a minute, sir; that is – " He stopped and his eye wandered towards Mr. Stuyvesant. "Never for a minute, sir," he went on, "without I knew some one was in the bank, who was capable of looking after it."

"The watchman has been at his post every night up to the usual hour?"

"Yes sir."

"There has been no carelessness in closing the vault doors after the departure of the clerks?"

"No sir."

"And no trouble," he continued, with a shade more of dignity, possibly because Hopgood's tell-tale face was beginning to show signs of anxious confusion, "and no trouble in opening them at the proper time each morning?"

"No sir."

"One question more – "

But here Bertram was called out, and in the momentary stir occasioned by his departure, Hopgood allowed himself to glance at the box before him more intently than he had hitherto presumed to do. He saw it was unlocked, and his hands began to tremble. Mr. Sylvester's voice recalled him to himself.

"You are a faithful man," said that gentleman, continuing his speech of a minute before, "and as such we are ready to acknowledge you; but the most conscientious amongst us are sometimes led into indiscretions. Now have you ever through carelessness or by means of any inadvertence, revealed to any one in or out of the bank, the particular combination by which the lock of the vault-door is at present opened?"

"No sir, indeed no; I am much too anxious, and feel my own responsibility entirely too much, not to preserve so important a secret with the utmost care and jealousy."

Mr. Sylvester's voice, careful as he was to modulate it, showed a secret discouragement. "The vaults then as far as you know, are safe when once they are closed for the night?"

"Yes sir." The janitor's face expressed a slight degree of wonder, but his voice was emphatic.

Mr. Sylvester's eye travelled in the direction of the screen. "Very well," said he; and paused to reflect.

In the interim the door opened for a second time. "A gentleman to see Mr. Stuyvesant," said a voice.

With an air of relief the director hastily rose, and before Mr. Sylvester had realized his position, left the room and closed the door behind him. A knell seemed to ring its note in Mr. Sylvester's breast. The janitor, released as he supposed from all constraint, stepped hastily forward.

"That box has been found unlocked," he cried with a wave of his hand towards the table; "some one has been to the vaults, and I – Oh, sir," he hurriedly exclaimed, disregarding in his agitation the stern and forbidding look which Mr. Sylvester in his secret despair had made haste to assume, "you did not want me to say anything about the time you came down so early in the morning, and I went out and left you alone in the bank, and you went to the vaults and opened Mr. Stuyvesant's box by mistake, with a tooth-pick as you remember?"

The mirror that looked down upon that pair, showed one very white face at that moment, but the screen that had trembled a moment before, stood strangely still in the silence.

"No," came at length from Mr. Sylvester, with a composure that astonished himself. "I was not questioning you about matters of a year agone. But you might have told that incident if you pleased; it was very easily explainable."

"Yes sir, I know, and I beg pardon for alluding to it, but I was so taken aback, sir, by your questions; I wanted to tell the exact truth, and I did not want to say anything that would hurt you with Mr. Stuyvesant; that is if I could help it. I hope I did right, sir," he blundered on, conscious he was uttering words he might better have kept to himself, but too embarrassed to know how to emerge from the difficulty into which his mingled zeal and anxiety had betrayed him. "I was never a good hand at answering questions, and if any thing really serious has happened, I shall wish you had taken me at my word and dismissed me immediately after that affair. Constantia Maria would have been a little worse off perhaps, but I should not be on hand to answer questions, and – "

"Hopgood!"

The man started, eyed Mr. Sylvester's white but powerfully controlled countenance, seemed struck with something he saw there, and was silent.

"You make too much now, as you made too much then of a matter that having its sole ground in a mistake, is, as I say, easily explainable. This affair which has come up now, is not so clear. Three of the boxes have been opened, and from one certain valuables have been taken. Can you give me any information that will assist us in our search after the culprit?"

"No sir." The tone was quite humble, Hopgood drew back unconsciously towards the door.

"As for the mistake of a year ago to which you have seen proper to allude, I shall myself take pains to inform Mr. Stuyvesant of it, since it has made such an impression upon you that it trammels your honesty and makes you consider it at all necessary to be anxious about it at this time."

And Hopgood unused to sarcasm from those lips, drew himself together, and with one more agitated look at the box on the table, sidled awkwardly from the room. Mr. Sylvester at once advanced to the screen which he hastily pushed aside. "Well, sir," said he, meeting the detective's wavering eye and forcing him to return his look, "you have now seen the various employees of the bank and heard most of them converse. Is there anything more you would like to inquire into before giving us the opinion I requested?"

"No sir," said the detective, coming forward, but very slowly and somewhat hesitatingly for him. "I think I am ready to say – "

Here the door opened, and Mr. Stuyvesant returned. The detective drew a breath of relief and repeated his words with a business-like assurance. "I think I am ready to say, that from the nature of the theft and the mysterious manner in which it has been perpetrated, suspicion undoubtedly points to some one connected with the bank. That is all that you require of me to-day?" he added, with a bow of some formality in the direction of Mr. Sylvester.

"Yes," was the short reply. But in an instant a change passed over the stately form of the speaker. Advancing to Mr. Gryce, he confronted him with a countenance almost majestic in its severity, and somewhat severely remarked, "This is a serious charge to bring against men whose countenances you yourself have denominated as honest. Are we to believe you have fully considered the question, and realize the importance of what you say?"

"Mr. Sylvester," replied the detective, with great self-possession and some dignity, "a man who is brought every day of his life into positions where the least turning of a hair will sink a man or save him, learns to weigh his words, before he speaks even in such informal inquiries as these."

Mr. Sylvester bowed and turned towards Mr. Stuyvesant. "Is there any further action you would like to have taken in regard to this matter to-day?" he asked, without a tremble in his voice.

With a glance at the half open box of the absent Mr. Harrington, the agitated director slowly shook his head. "We must have time to think," said he.

Mr. Gryce at once took up his hat. "If the charge implied in my opinion strikes you, gentlemen, as serious, you must at least acknowledge that your own judgment does not greatly differ from mine, or why such unnecessary agitation in regard to a loss so petty, by a gentleman worth as we are told his millions." And with this passing shot, to which neither of his auditors responded, he made his final obeisance and calmly left the room.

Mr. Sylvester and Mr. Stuyvesant slowly confronted one another.

"The man speaks the truth," said the former. "You at least suspect some one in the bank, Mr. Stuyvesant?"

"I have no wish to," hastily returned the other, "but facts – "

"Would facts of this nature have any weight with you against the unspotted character of a man never known by you to meditate, much less commit a dishonest action?"

"No; yet facts are facts, and if it is proved that some one in our employ has perpetrated a theft, the mind will unconsciously ask who, and remain uneasy till it is satisfied."

"And if it never is?"

"It will always ask who, I suppose."

Mr. Sylvester drew back. "The matter shall be pushed," said he; "you shall be satisfied. Surveillance over each man employed in this institution ought sooner or later to elicit the truth. The police shall take it in charge."

Mr. Stuyvesant looked uneasy. "I suppose it is only justice," murmured he, "but it is a scandal I would have been glad to avoid."

"And I, but circumstances admit of no other course. The innocent must not suffer for the guilty, even so far as an unfounded suspicion would lead."

"No, no, of course not." And the director bustled about after his overcoat and hat.