ÆäÀÌÁö À̹ÌÁö
PDF
ePub

eaten into all classes of society in Turkey, until

THE DURAND PROPERTY.

even women lisp, and the children prattle ven-THE register of any lawyer in ordinary praegeance. It is so strong that it has made the tice contains more records of the emotions Greeks hate one of the prettiest remaining costumes in the world, as a symbol of their most bitter and cruel servitude.

By-and-by, the Greek girl will grow old. From a household servant, she will then sink into a drudge, and her head will be always bound up as if she had a chronic toothache. You will see her carrying water on washing days, or groaning and squabbling upon others as she cleans the herbs for dinner. She will have become so old even at thirty, that it is impossible to recognize her. Rouge and whitening will have so corroded her face, that it looks like a sleepy apple or a withered medlar. Her eyes are shriveled into nothing. Her teeth will have been eaten away by rough wine, and noxious tooth-powders. She will be bald when she does not wear a towering wig, that only comes out on St. Everybody's days. The plump figure and all its bumps will have shriveled into a mere heap of aching old bones, and her only pleasures in this life will be scandal and curiosity.

You will find her croaking about, watching her neighbors at the most unseasonable times. She has wonderful perseverance in ferreting out a secret. She will thus know many more things | than are true, and tell them with singular readiness and vivacity. She will be the terror of her neighborhood, and there is no conciliating her. Kindness, good humor, even money-which she prizes as much as she did when a girl, and grasps at it as eagerly-will have no effect on her. She must speak evil and hatch troubles, or she would die. The instinct of self-preservation is strong; so she will go upon her old course, come what may. She will be a terror even to her own daughter.

and passions which sway human nature than
any other sort of volume ever written or print-
ed. To the eye of a stranger, indeed, these ines
present only the abbreviated notes of ordinary
office occurrences, or the condensed history of
the progress of suits at law or in equity. But to
the eye of the man who has made or directed the
entries from day to day, a glance over the pages
recalls a hundred strange and startling, and as
many sad and sickening histories. It is no pleas-
ant retrospect for a lawyer to review this book;
and I believe it is seldom done except when ab-
solutely required for business purposes.
private histories of many families-stories that
men and women would give fortunes to have
blotted out of their own and all other persons'
memories-are in these pages; and when the
possessor dies, the record becomes unintelligible,
except as a memorandum that on such and such
days such papers were filed or served, and such
motions or decrees made.

The

For example, I open to one of the briefest pages in my old register, and find on it not more than a half dozen entries. The title of the cause is as follows: New York Supreme Court. John E. Durand vs. Stephen Halliday. We were plaintiff's attorneys.

The first entry is "March 18th. Ret'd by plff. in person."

He was a very old man. He came into the office with a feeble step, and with a humility that was painful. It is exceedingly unpleasant to see an old man so broken down as to speak with an appearance of inferiority to mere boys; and yet he did so, and asked the clerks in the office if he was intruding, in a tone so meek and quiet, that I was shocked, and called out from my inner room to bid him walk in.

He was a very tall man, bowed down by his age, but with an eye that spoke a commingling of gentleness and of confidence which won you to him irresistibly. His story was brief. He desired to bring an action against a man named Halliday, to recover the value of a large estate, placed in his hands as trustee, but which he had disposed of. The circumstances, as I afterward learned them, were these:

She has been reduced to this state by having been a thing of bargain and sale so long, that she has learned to consider money as the chief good. She has been subject to insult; to be beaten; to be carried away into the harem of a man she has never seen, and whose whole kind she despises; and has lost all natural feeling. All grace, tenderness, and affection, have been burnt out of her as with a brand. She has been looked upon as a mere tame animal until she has become little better. She has been doubted until deception has become her glory. She has been imprisoned and secluded until trickery has become her master passion. She has been kept from healthy knowledge and graceful accom-York, he had fallen into the speculating temptaplishments, from all softening influences and ennobling thoughts, until her mind has festered. When she is young, she is shut up until she becomes uncomfortable from fat; when she is old, she is worked until she becomes a skeleton. None have any respect or love for her, nor would she be now worthy of it, if they

had.

But I drop the pen in weariness, only saying, that if a Greek girl be such as I have described her, what must a Greek boy be.

Mr. Durand was a man of large wealth, but of small financial ability. He had lived a peaceful and quiet life not far from the city; but when his family persuaded him to remove into New

tions of the city. A year or two passed, and he had made two or three very fortunate operations in stock and in real estate, which, like all gambling successes, whetted his appetite for other and bolder schemes. He formed new acquaintances, made many new alliances, and among them all attached himself with special confidence to one man, a real estate broker named Halliday, who so far ingratiated himself into the old man's favor as to win his complete confidence. Durand had made several purchases, in expectation of

property. It had, therefore, a dark look on the face of it for the old man, and I was obliged to state as much to him frankly. He was prepared for that, however; and begged me to think the matter over, promising to call within a week and converse further on the subject. As he walked feebly toward the door of the office, I followed

rapid sales at large advances, and had exhausted | all his available means; and, without having become insolvent, he found himself in the very common position of speculators, with immense liabilities, and immense assets, but no ability to turn his assets into available funds. The usual consequence followed. His paper must be dishonored and his contracts unfulfilled. The immediate re-him with a melancholy gaze that he caught as sult would be disgrace in the business world, and he could not bear that. With the impetuosity of inexperience, he hastened to his friend Halliday, and besought his advice and help. Halliday held his paper to a larger amount than any other creditor, and recommended him to place his entire property in his hands, and permit him to settle up his affairs. The infatuated and frightened man assented to any thing that looked like getting him out of the personal difficulty of settling his own complicated affairs, and readily consented. His lands were conveyed by deeds, and his securities of every sort were made over to the broker, absolutely, and not a scrap of paper taken back for any of it.

A year of quiet passed, during which he had several suits at law commenced against him, but Halliday had agreed to take care of them all, and he was not annoyed. But one day, on calling at the office of the broker, he learned that he was out of town, and the next day he received the same answer. "He would not be back in a week, perhaps not in two." Two, three, and four weeks passed, and the truth began to dawn on the old man's mind, that his broker friend had left the country with the proceeds of his villainy. The old man shook under the blow. He was left destitute and penniless, with heavy judgments hanging over him, which Halliday had allowed to accumulate, and the terrible nature of his position entirely broke down his constitution. For two years he lay sick and helpless. His creditors were merciful, and finding that he was unable to pay a cent in the dollar, fully released him from all claims. His wife had a small income of a few hundred dollars, on which they lived with their only grandchild, the daughter of a son who had died some years before, and ten years passed slowly away, and Mr. Durand had grown very old. During this time they lost two other children, who had married merchants in the city, and who died leaving no children; so that their hearth was desolate but for the bright-eyed girl | that played around it and gladdened it, and grew up to young and beautiful womanhood in their lowly home.

At the time that Mr. Durand visited my office, Mr. Halliday had returned to the city; not secretly, but openly, and with a bold face-thereby indicating his determination to resist any claim that might be made on him for the property. In fact, it was a very doubtful case. There was not a particle of evidence that the sales to Halliday were not bona fide sales for full value. It was evident that Halliday had large claims against Mr. Durand, and several creditors stated that he had bought Mr. Durand's protested notes from them a few days before the day of the transfer of

he turned to bow his good-morning, and he answered it with a hopeful smile, which did more to give me confidence in him and in his hopes than a good witness to the facts would have done; but the next instant, when he was gone, I saw that his case was perfectly hopeless, and so dismissed it from my mind.

It was nearly a fortnight later that I found a lady in my room waiting my return from Court. She was young, and had a face of remarkable beauty and interest. Her features were perfectly regular, and her complexion white and pure. Her forehead was of medium height, her eyes blue, her chin small and admirably moulded; while her hair was plainly parted, showing a gleam of the white temple through the dark masses that were drawn back, but which refused to obey the comb. She was of the medium size, her form fully rounded and of exquisite proportions, and her hands and feet small and beautiful. Her air was graceful, yet somewhat constrained in a place where she was far from being at home, and I enjoyed for a moment the hesitation and embarrassment, which lent piquancy to her expressive countenance.

She was Mary Durand, and had come at her grandfather's request to see me. He was not well, and had desired her to call on me, and state some particulars of a conversation which she had overheard between her grandfather and Mr. Halliday.

It was the previous evening, and Mr. Halliday had called and asked for her grandfather, who was in his bedroom. The broker was admitted at Mr. Durand's request, and shown to his bedside; while the mother and granddaughter retired, the former to another part of the house, and the latter to the next room, which was their usual sitting-room. Indeed it had once been part of the same room, but a thin partition had been put up, dividing it; but this was in fact only boards and paper, and the conversation in one room could be readily heard in the other.

The old man had lain silent when his former friend entered, and the latter appeared for a moment deeply moved at the situation in which he found his former client; but recovering himself, after a few phrases of condolence he led the conversation along into the ordinary channels, and carefully avoided any allusion to the past. But a chance remark on the state of the money market gave Mr. Durand the opportunity to recall the past, and he went into it with a suddenness and' a calm severity that startled his visitor.

[ocr errors]

Halliday, I am a very old man. I am nearly eighty years old. I am weak, feeble, sick, and, I believe, I am dying. I was rich, and am poor. I was honored, and am despised. I was respect

eaten into all classes of society in even women lisp, and the children geance. It is so strong that it h Greeks hate one of the prettiest re tumes in the world, as a symbol bitter and cruel servitude.

By-and-by, the Greek girl wil From a household servant, she will t a drudge, and her head will be al up as if she had a chronic toothache see her carrying water on washing day ing and squabbling upon others as sh herbs for dinner. She will have be even at thirty, that it is impossible to her. Rouge and whitening will have ed her face, that it looks like a sleepy withered medlar. Her eyes are sh nothing. Her teeth will have been by rough wine, and noxious tooth-pov will be bald when she does not wear wig, that only comes out on St. F days. The plump figure and all its have shriveled into a mere heap of bones, and her only pleasures in this scandal and curiosity.

You will find her croaking about her neighbors at the most unseason She has wonderful perseverance in t a secret. She will thus know many than are true, and tell them with sin ness and vivacity. She will be the to neighborhood, and there is no conc Kindness, good humor, even moneyprizes as much as she did when a girl. at it as eagerly-will have no effect must speak evil and hatch troubles, die.

The instinct of self-preservati so she will go upon her old course. may. She will be a terror even daughter.

She has been reduced to this st. been a thing of bargain and sale she has learned to consider money good. She has been subject to ins beaten; to be carried away into the man she has never seen, and whose she despises; and has lost all natur All grace, tenderness, and affection, burnt out of her as with a brand. Sho looked upon as a mere tame animal become little better. She has been deception has become her glory. Sha imprisoned and secluded until trick come her master passion. She h from healthy knowledge and grace plishments, from all softening ind ennobling thoughts, until her mi tered. When she is young, she until she becomes uncomfortable fr she is old, she is worked until a skeleton. None have any resp her, nor would she be now worth had.

But I drop the pen in wen

that if a Greek girl be

her, what must

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors][ocr errors]
[graphic]

"But you will have to get something after you sue."

66

[ocr errors]

Yes, I shall."

tlemen already arrived. I had a brief interview with Mr. Durand, whom I found fully equal to the plan I proposed acting on; and when Mr. Halliday called, he was shown into the small "I hope you may find it!" and a brutal laugh oom by another door, while I retired into the indicated the entire confidence which he had that Tont sitting-room. The absorbing nature of his his property was effectually concealed from the an must have prevented the broker, on the pre-most searching sheriff's deputy He again atbus evening, from knowing that he could be tempted to go out, and I again stopped him. erheard; for every word he uttered was as 'Frankly then, sir, I tell you that you are liainly heard in our room as where he sat. He ble to arrest on this suit, and your person will as in great haste to finish his business, and re- be made responsible for the recovery. I have tted if his old friend had suffered for want of already a sufficient amount of information to assmall sum he now brought, with the interest sure me that I shall not throw away time in pur- ten years. It was altogether something like suing you. You have your choice. Proceed thousand dollars, being the balance of mon- with me to such place as you may name, now, " realized from the sale of the lands and se- without delay, and pay over to me the entire valrities which he had received from Mr. Durand ue of the property you misappropriated, or abide herewith to pay debts. The amount being bare- the consequences of the refusal. I am ready to sufficient to cover his own debt, he had thought go with you." best to return the small balance, rather than it away on any large claim. Mr. Durand estioned him in a general way, and when Hal- | y expressed his haste there was a moment's ce, as if the old man were counting over own old promissory notes and the money, booking over the memoranda of sales that iday submitted to him. The latter then

10:

[ocr errors]

"Go to the devil!" said he, with another brutal laugh, and he stalked out of the door and into the street. I hastened to the front window, but not soon enough to see the transaction which occurred as he left the door-step. As he set foot on the pavement, a deputy sheriff laid his hand on his shoulder. "You are wanted," said he.

Halliday furiously demanded who he was. The accomplished officer muttered his reply: By-the-by, you may as well give me a little" Durand versus Halliday. Warrant against norandum of this, and I will give you a full Halliday: go with me, down to the Park. Bail pt for all claims. I will write it: I see you to-morrow." too feeble. This scrap of paper will answer. no-don't trouble yourself about ink: my il will do. Something of this sort: Rered of S. Halliday, two thousand one hundred three, seventy-five one hundredths dollars, in of his account as trustee for me in the sale my lands and stocks, and payment of my debts, the year, the same being balance in my or, after paying his demands against me, and being a full discharge therefor.' There, just n that. Perhaps I had better ask your daugh-hackman, who assisted him in lifting his capture r to step in and witness it."

[ocr errors]

Let us see first that it is all right, Mr. Halliv," said I, walking into the room, and taking he pencil memorandum from old Mr. Durand's nds.

Halliday started to his feet. He was keen nough to see the trap into which he had fallen, and he turned fiercely to the old man and uttered one furious oath, and then turned to the door. I stopped him with my hand on his shoulder. One moment, sir, if you please."

Who are you, sir?"

"Just at present that does not matter much. You doubtless perceive the position in which you Land. Mr. Durand has abundant proof that you were but his trustee in these affairs; that his conveyance to you was for the purpose of paying his debts. It is not a difficult matter to show that the property was worth ten times what you have here represented. I suppose you are aware that Mr. Durand can recover from you the entire value of the property."

"Perhaps you will sue?" Perhaps I will."

46

Halliday saw that he was caught; but in an instant he threw his foot out, and gave the deputy a side blow that might have felled an ox; but he was an old hand, and knew that trip too well. He stood firm, and with a blow that seemed like a mere pat of his hand, but which was evidently the stunning force of the slung shot, he laid Halliday on the pavement, with the blood streaming from his face. All this had passed before we reached the window, and I saw him beckon to a

into the carriage, and they drove off, while I turned back to the bedside of Mr. Durand.

The excitement of the whole scene had been too great for him, and I was startled at the paleness which had come over his features.

His eyes wandered painfully around the little room, and when we all gathered around his bed it was manifest that death was rapidly approaching.

There is something sublime and stately in the approach of a good old man to the world of spirits. The journey of life ended, the labor of life over, the sorrows of life assuaged; the doubts, fears, and difficulties of life about to be solved: there is something majestic in the tread of the old man as he solemnly approaches the unseen, and takes his leave of us, who remain to know the same trials from which he has gone. The death-bed of Mr. Durand had none of the accessories of luxurious splendor to rob death of its simple sublimity. There were no carved ceilings, no rich tapestries, no shaded lights, no heavy curtains. He lay on a low couch, his head supported on a pillow that was

ed, loved; and for ten years past I have walked with my head bowed down to the ground, afraid to meet the gaze of my fellow-men-a poor, miserable, broken-hearted old man, tottering to the grave. And how happened this? Tell me, Stephen Halliday, how happened it?"

"How should I know, Mr. Durand? When I left the country you were in an unfortunate position; but I certainly supposed that you would extricate yourself without difficulty. Did not your creditors release you?"

"Yes, all of them-to a man-except you. I have no release or receipt from you, although I owed you a hundred thousand dollars."

"But I was paid."

sent his granddaughter to relate this conversation to me, and to request me to take no further proceedings in the matter.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Durand; but do you concur in your grandfather's views of this matter?"

"I am not accustomed to judge of such subjects, sir.".

"But you must have an opinion; have you not?"

"Mr. Leggett thought that Mr. Halliday's voice was not sincere."

"Who is Mr. Leggett?"

"A friend of my grandfather, who was with me in the sitting-room during this conversation.

"And how? Did. I pay you, or did you pay I should not have remained to listen, but that I yourself!"

66

Why, both. You transferred property to me to pay your debts, and I paid myself first of all; certainly you designed that I should do so, did you not?"

"Yes, first, but not last."

had company, and we were forced to hear it all."
"Was any other person present?"
"Mr. Harrison also was with us."
"Who is he?"

"A friend of mine, a merchant in the city."
I smiled at the distinction she had made be-

"Why, there was hardly enough to pay my-tween the two gentlemen-one of whom was her self."

[blocks in formation]

"And what amount of stocks and bonds?" "Some fifty thousand dollars worth." "And these were hardly enough to pay your claim! You surely do not mean here, in my room, to claim that there was any other consideration for the conveyance of all that property to you, except solely the agreement you made to relieve me of the trouble of settling my own complicated affairs?"

"No, I do not deny that. But I say again, the property was hardly sufficient to pay my claim. It was all poor property, and I had to force it off from my hands immediately, or it would have sunk me. I did as well as I could, and I realized only enough to pay myself, and the small balance which my clerk paid over to you after I left."

"He paid no balance to me."

grandfather's friend, and the other her own. But I certainly took a different view of Mr. Halliday's character and intentions from that of her grandfather, and I saw very clearly a design on Halliday's part to effect a complete and final settlement by paying Mr. Durand some sum of money and obtaining his receipt in full on account of these old transactions.

The more I reflected on the matter the clearer it became to me, and I resolved on a decided course of action. I cautioned Miss Durand to explain my ideas to her grandfather, and prepare him for the evening interview; and I also took the liberty of requesting Mr. Leggett and Mr. Harrison to call on me immediately, if convenient, and if not so, to let me see them at their respective places of business.

They were both in my office within a half hour, and I was glad to find them clear-headed, intelligent men. I could not conceal from myself the belief that they were both of them suitors of Miss Durand, yet there was no ill-feeling between them. They were evidently surprised at meeting, and still more so when I requested them to sit down and write out separate accounts of the conversation they had overheard the evening previous at the residence of Mr. Durand.

"He did not! I am astonished. The scoundrel wrote to me that he had done so. It shall be paid immediately. It was a thousand and some odd dollars. I will call to-morrow evening I was entirely satisfied with the exactness and pay it to you. It will perhaps be a conve- with which these accounts agreed with each nience to you. Believe me, Durand, I did the other, and with Miss Durand's statements, and best I could for you. I will convince you of it, then I took the liberty of asking them to pass the if you still doubt me, by showing you all the ac- evening with the same lady. They hesitated a counts of my sales. I left in haste, but I directed little; but on my assuring them that they might that clerk Johnson to exhibit every thing to you. be of great service to her, they consented, and I I suspected him of cheating me, but not of cheat-parted from them to meet them at my client's ing you, when he made me his final account."

This closed the conversation, and had well nigh convinced the feeble old man of his old adviser's honesty. He had slept with somewhat more calmness than usual, and woke in the morning with a great fear that the lawyer he had consulted might take some step against Halliday, whom he was now ready to forgive; and he had

house.

It was a small house in a retired street, where he had gone to avoid the gaze of those who used to meet him in more fashionable parts of the city. There was a painful poverty in the appearance of the little door, the dark knocker, the small entry, and the simple furniture of the room into which I was shown, and where I found the gen

« ÀÌÀü°è¼Ó »