Chapter 20

by Upton Sinclair

　　They went out; and Montague waited a minute or two, to give them achance to get out of the way, and then he rang the elevator bell andentered the car.

　　It stopped again at the next floor, and he gave a start ofexcitement. As the door opened, he saw a group of men, with Duval,Ward, and General Prentice among them. He moved behind the elevatorman, so that none of them should notice him.

　　Montague had caught one glimpse of the face of General Prentice. Itwas deathly pale. The General said not a word to anyone, but wentout into the corridor. The other hesitated for a moment, then, witha sudden resolution, he turned and followed. As his friend passedout of the door, he stepped up beside him.

　　"Good evening, General," he said. The General turned and stared athim, half in a daze.

　　"Oh, Montague!" he said. "How are you?"

　　"Very well," said Montague.

　　In the street outside, among a group of half a dozen automobiles, herecognised the General's limousine car.

　　"Where are you going?" he asked.

　　"Home," was the reply.

　　"I'll ride with you, if you like," said Montague. "I've something tosay to you."

　　"All right," said the General. He could not very well have refused,for Montague had taken him by the arm and started toward the car; hedid not intend to be put off.

　　He helped the General in, got in himself, and shut to the doorbehind him. Prentice sat staring in front of him, still half in adaze.

　　Montague watched him for a minute or so. Then suddenly he leanedtoward him, and said, "General, why do you let them persuade you todo it?"

　　"Hey?" said the other.

　　"I say," repeated Montague, "why do you let them persuade you?"

　　The other turned and stared at him, with a startled look in hiseyes.

　　"I know all about what has happened," said Montague. "I know whatwent on at that conference."

　　"What do you mean?" gasped the General.

　　"I know what they made you promise to do. They are going to wreckthe Gotham Trust Company."

　　The General was dumfounded. "Why!" he gasped. "How? Who told you?How could you--"

　　Montague had to wait a minute or two until his friend had got overhis dismay.

　　"I cannot help it," he burst out, finally. "What can I do?"

　　"You can refuse to play their game!" exclaimed Montague.

　　"But don't you suppose that they would do it just the same? And howlong do you suppose that I would last, if I refused them?"

　　"But think of what it means!" cried Montague. "Think of the ruin!You will bring everything about your head."

　　"I know, I know!" cried the General, in a voice of anguish. "Don'tthink that I haven't realised it--don't think that I haven't foughtagainst it! But I am helpless, utterly helpless."

　　He turned upon Montague, and caught his sleeve with a tremblinghand. "I never thought that I would live to face such an hour," heexclaimed. "To despise myself--to be despised by all the world! Tobe browbeaten, and insulted, and dragged about--"

　　The old man paused, choking with excess of emotion. "Look at me!" hecried, with sudden vehemence. "Look at me! You think that I am aman, a person of influence in the community, the head of a greatinstitution in which thousands of people have faith. But I amnothing of the kind. I am a puppet--I am a sham--I am a disgrace tomyself and to the name I bear!"

　　And suddenly he clasped his hands over his face, and bowed his head,so that Montague should not see his grief.

　　There was a long silence. Montague was dumb with horror. He feltthat his mere presence was an outrage.

　　Finally the General looked up again. He clenched his hand, andmastered himself.

　　"I have chosen my part," he said. "I must play it through. What Ifeel about it makes no difference."

　　Montague again said nothing.

　　"I have no right to inflict my grief upon you," the Generalcontinued. "I have no right to try to excuse myself. There is noturning back now. I am Dan Waterman's man, and I do his bidding."

　　"But how can you have got into such a position?" asked Montague.

　　"A friend of mine organised the Trust Company of the Republic. Heasked me to become president, because I had a name that would beuseful to him. I accepted--he was a man I knew I could trust. Imanaged the business properly, and it prospered; and then, threeyears ago, the control was bought by other men. That was when thecrisis came. I should have resigned. But I had my family to thinkof; I had friends who were involved; I had interests that I couldnot leave. And I stayed--and that is all. I found that I had stayedto be a puppet, a figurehead. And now it is too late."

　　"But can't you withdraw now?" asked Montague.

　　"Now?" echoed the General. "Now, in the most critical moment, whenall my friends are hanging upon me? There is nothing that my enemieswould like better, for they could lay all their sins at my door.They would class me with Stewart and Ryder."

　　"I see," said Montague, in a low voice.

　　"And now the crisis comes, and I find out who my real master is. Iam told to do this, and do that, and I do it. There are no threats;I understand without any. Oh, my God, Mr. Montague, if I should tellyou of some of the things that I have seen in this city--of theindignities that I have seen heaped upon men, of the deeds to whichI have seen them driven. Men whom you think of as the mosthonourable in the community--men who have grown grey in the serviceof the public! It is too brutal, too horrible for words!"

　　There was a long silence.

　　"And there is nothing you can do?" asked Montague.

　　"Nothing," he answered.

　　"Tell me, General, is your institution sound?"

　　"Perfectly sound."

　　"And you have done nothing improper?"

　　"Nothing."

　　"Then why should you fear Waterman?"

　　"Why?" exclaimed the General. "Because I am liable for eighty percent of my deposits, and I have only five per cent of reserves."

　　"I see!" said Montague.

　　"It is a choice between Stanley Ryder and myself," added the other."And Stanley Ryder will have to fight his own battle."

　　There was nothing more said. Each of the men sat buried in his ownthoughts, and the only sound was the hum of the automobile as itsped up Broadway.

　　Montague was working out another course of action. He moved toanother seat in the car where he could see the numbers upon thestreet lamps as they flashed by; and at last he touched the Generalupon the knee. "I will leave you at the next corner," he said.

　　The General pressed the button which signalled his chauffeur, andthe car drew up at the curb. Montague descended.

　　"Good night, General," he said.

　　"Good night," said the other, in a faint voice. He did not offer totake Montague's hand. The latter closed the door of the car, and itsped away up the street.

　　Then he crossed over and went down to the River drive, and enteredLucy's apartment house.

　　"Is Mrs. Taylor in?" he asked of the clerk.

　　"I'll see," said the man. Montague gave his name and added, "Tellher it is very important."

　　Lucy came to the door herself, clad in an evening gown.

　　One glance at his haggard face was enough to tell her that somethingwas wrong. "What is it, Allan?" she cried.

　　He hung up his hat and coat, and went into the drawing-room.

　　"What is it, Allan?" she cried again.

　　"Lucy, do you know where Stanley Ryder is?" he asked.

　　"Yes," she answered, and added quickly, "Oh! it's some bad news!"

　　"It is," said he. "He must be found at once."

　　She stared at him for a moment, hesitating; then, her anxietyovercoming every other emotion, she said, "He is in the next room."

　　"Call him," said Montague.

　　Lucy ran to the door. "Come in. Quickly!" she called, and Ryderappeared.

　　Montague saw that he was very pale; and there was nothing left ofhis air of aristocratic serenity.

　　"Mr. Ryder," he began, "I have just come into possession of somenews which concerns you very closely. I felt that you ought to know.There is to be a directors' meeting to-morrow morning, at which itis to be decided that the bank which clears for the Gotham TrustCompany will discontinue to do it."

　　Ryder started as if he had been shot; his face turned grey. Therewas no sound except a faint cry of fright from Lucy.

　　"My information is quite positive," continued Montague. "It has beendetermined to wreck your institution!"

　　Ryder caught at a chair to support himself. "Who? Who?" hestammered.

　　"It is Duval and Waterman," said Montague.

　　"Dan Waterman!" It was Lucy who spoke.

　　Montague turned to look at her, and saw her eyes, wide open withterror.

　　"Yes, Lucy," he said.

　　"Oh, oh!" she gasped, choking; then suddenly she cried wildly, "Tellme! I don't understand--what does it mean?"

　　"It means that I am ruined," exclaimed Ryder.

　　"Ruined?" she echoed.

　　"Absolutely!" he said. "They've got me! I knew they were after me,but I didn't think they'd dare!"

　　He ended with a furious imprecation; but Montague had kept his eyesfixed upon Lucy. It was her suffering that he cared about.

　　He heard her whisper, under her breath, "It's for me!" And thenagain, "It's for me!"

　　"Lucy," he began; but suddenly she put up her hand, and rushedtoward him.

　　"Hush! he doesn't know!" she panted breathlessly. "I haven't toldhim."

　　And then she turned toward Ryder again. "Oh, surely there must besome way," she cried, wildly. "Surely--"

　　Ryder had sunk down in a chair and buried his face in his hands."Ruined!" he exclaimed. "Utterly ruined! I won't have a dollar leftin the world."

　　"No, no," cried Lucy, "it cannot be!" And she put her hands to herforehead, striving to think. "It must be stopped. I'll go and seehim. I'll plead with him."

　　"You must not, Lucy!" cried Montague, starting toward her.

　　But again she whirled upon him. "Not a word!" she whispered, withfierce intensity. "Not a word!"

　　And she rushed into the next room, and half a minute later came backwith her hat and wrap.

　　"Allan," she said, "tell them to call me a cab!"

　　He tried to protest again; but she would not hear him. "You can ridewith me," she said. "You can talk then. Call me a cab! Please--saveme that trouble."

　　He gave the message: and Lucy, meanwhile, stood in the middle of theroom, twisting her hands together nervously.

　　"Now, Allan, go downstairs," she said; "wait for me there." Andafter another glance at the broken figure of Ryder, he took his hatand coat and obeyed.

　　Montague spent his time pacing back and forth in the entrance-hall.The cab arrived, and a minute later Lucy appeared, wearing a heavyveil. She went straight to the vehicle, and sprang in, and Montaguefollowed. She gave the driver the address of Waterman's great marblepalace over by the park; and the cab started.

　　Then suddenly she turned upon Montague, speaking swiftly andintensely.

　　"I know what you are going to say," she cried. "But you must spareme--and you must spare yourself. I am sorry that you should have toknow this--God knows that I could not help it! But it cannot beundone. And there is no other way out of it. I must go to him, andtry to save Ryder!"

　　"Lucy," he began, "listen to me--"

　　"I don't want to listen to you," she cried wildly--almosthysterically. "I cannot bear to be argued with. It is too hard forme as it is!"

　　"But think of the practical side of it!" he cried. "Do you imaginethat you can stop this huge machine that Waterman has set inmotion?"

　　"I don't know, I don't know!" she exclaimed, choking back a sob. "Ican only do what I can. If he has any spark of feeling in him--I'llget down on my knees to him, I will beg him--"

　　"But, Lucy! think of what you are doing. You go there to his houseat night! You put yourself into his power!"

　　"I don't care, Allan--I am not afraid of him. I have thought aboutmyself too long. Now I must think about the man I love."

　　Montague did not answer, for a moment. "Lucy," he said at last,"will you tell me how you have thought of yourself in one singlething?"

　　"Yes, yes--I will!" she cried, vehemently. "I have known all alongthat Waterman was following me. I have been haunted by the thoughtof him--I have felt his power in everything that has befallen us.And I have never once told Ryder of his peril!"

　　"That was more a kindness to him--" began the other.

　　"No, no!" panted Lucy; and she caught his coat sleeve in hertrembling hands. "You see, you see--you cannot even imagine it ofme! I kept it a secret--because I was afraid!"

　　"Afraid?" he echoed.

　　"I was afraid that Ryder would leave me! I was afraid that he wouldgive me up! And I loved him too much"yousee what kind of a person I have been! And I can sit here, and tellyou that! Is there anything that can make me ashamed after that? Isthere anything that can degrade me after that? And what is thereleft for me to do but go to Waterman and try to undo what I havedone?"

　　Montague was speechless, before the agony of her humiliation.

　　"You see!" she whispered.

　　"Lucy," he began, protesting.

　　But suddenly she caught him by the arm. "Allan," she whispered, "Iknow that you have to try to stop me. But it is no use, and I mustdo it! And I cannot bear to hear you--it makes it too hard for me.My course is chosen, and nothing in the world can turn me; and Iwant you to go away and leave me. I want you to go--right now! I amnot afraid of Waterman; I am not afraid of anything that he can do.I am only afraid of you, and your unhappiness. I want you to leaveme to my fate! I want you to stop thinking about me!"

　　"I cannot do it, Lucy," he said.

　　She reached up and pulled the signal cord; and the cab came to ahalt.

　　"I want you to get out, Allan!" she cried wildly. "Please get out,and go away."

　　He started to protest again; but she pushed him away in frenzy. "Go,go!" she cried; and half dazed, and scarcely realising what he did,he gave way to her and stepped out into the street.

　　"Drive!" she called to the man, and shut the door; and Montaguefound himself standing on a driveway in the park, with the lights ofthe cab disappearing around a turn.