HERR PAULUS: BIS RISE, HIS GREATNESS, AND HIS FALL.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXV, Issue 9034, 21 April 1888, Page 3 (Supplement)

HERR PAULUS: BIS RISE, HIS GREATNESS, AND HIS FALL.

NOW FIRST PUBLISHED.

BY WALTER IS A N'T, Author qI " All Sorts and Conditions of Men," &c.

BOOK THE THIRD.

CHAPTER VI. THE THIRD B L O W.

In the silent watches of the night the words of Sir Percival came back to the unfortunate Paul. They were shouted into his ear. "A Medium's Cad." To be called r Cad of any kind, even in the Eton boys' Bense —that all persons who are not old or present members of that seminary are Cads —is humiliating. It seems aa if no one who is really a Cad—s;->y a "Gym" Cad, or a liacket Court Cad, or an Omnibus Cad, or n Touting Cad, could ever be able to hold up his head. But to be a Medium's Cad ! It is possible to descend much lower ? When line actually is a Medium it is certainly best to magnify the otlice, and be Medium the Mngnificent. Paul had been such a Medium •—he had retired : the post had already lost Its imaginary splendour, and to be called a Medium's Cad !

All his own doing—his own otlicious tleeire to prove his power—it was none Other than himself who had brought this blow. Why had he ever assisted in the restoration of this man to his sister? Why, <vhen he found and ("oved the manner of the anan, had he not left him alone ? He cursed tis own shortsighted meddling—he rolled about in his bed a prey to tho most poignant reproaches and the vainest regrets. BeMuse, whatever had been said by Sibyl in \ier newly-born kindness, everybody knew now that he had been a Medium's Cad. He might, of course, dress up the situation, but there was the plain statement, and they ull knew it to be true.

When a man stalks about, solemnly, Wrapped in a cloak of authority, puts forward claims to supernatural power, and to wisdom derived from other sources than those accessible to the ordinary student, he is raised above their gibes, even those of such a fanatic as Sir Percival. These things may be said behind his back ; they generally arc said of every person who lias risen above his fellows. But Paul was now no more than an ordinary man ; worse Dtf than most, because his past history was n load upon his shoulders which made him Humble and stagger —every stumble a fresh disgrace, and every fall a new humiliation.

More humiliations were to follow.

Xext morning, for instance, lie was confronted by a housemaid, her face tied up with a handkerchief. Beside her and behind he: , were other maids, anxious to witness a miracle of healing. "Oh! s ; ," she cried, "I've got the toothache dreadful,"

He turned pale. Twice already he had cured this damsel, in both cases assuaging t he pain so a few that minutes afterwards she tripped it merrily, and would have sung as Fhe tripped it but for fear of Lady Augusta. Now he could do nothing.

'• You've cured me twice, sir," she said. "Oh ! please sir, it's worse than either of the times before."

" I—l can't cure you any more, my good girl," Paul replied, looking loolish. " I'm very sorry. But I'm really unable to cure you." '• Oh ! sir. it won't take a minute for you. It's nothing for you to do. Last time you only looked at me and it was gone." " I can't—l have forgotten the way—l liean. I can't do it. Go to the dentist tnd have it out. I shall never be able to cure anybody again." He fled, leaving the afflicted one overwhelmed with disappointment. What had she done that he would not heal her as before ? What did he mean by saying that lie could not cure anybody any more ? But Paul was humiliated. It ivasasmall tiling, but up to this day the servants had regarded him with the awe and wonder which belong to him who works miracles. Now he would work no more miracles ; he was no better than an ordinary visitor. It is sad indeed to take the lower place. This was before breakfast. After that meal, was it fancy, or was Lady Augusta distinctly colder in her manner ? He proposed to go out and spend the day somewhere. At the door he encountered Emanuel Chick. The worthy creature wa.s in a rage ; he was in one of those rages which are called blind. Now, in a blind rage a man does not heed hia speech. He Fays what comes uppermost. " Oh !"—Emanuel Chick roared this interjection. "Oh! it's you, is it? And it is .ill your doing ! You made up your mind from the beginning that I was to be shoved out of the way. Oh ! yes, the old friends were to be shoved out of the way to make room for you. And if need be we were to be ruined. Now, Mr. Paul, or Herr Paul us, whatever you please to call yourself, I'm to see "\lr. Brudenel, and you will come along with me —or I'll drag you along."

i; Mr. Brudenel, I dare say, is in his Btudy. You will find him there. I will go ttloiif,', Mr. Chick, without any compulsion." He was curious to learn what Mr. Chick wanted to say, and followed him to the Btudy. He observed, as the medium went before, that he walked with head down, swinging his shoulders and squaring his elbows, as one who is resolved on something desperate. Mr. Brudenel Mas not alone. Sibyl and Tom Mere with him, and they were conversing cheerfully about dances, weddings, festivities, and such things long forgotten in this House of Silence.

" What i.s it, Chick?" asked Mr. Brudenel, impatiently. The study was not a place where he was accustomed to interruption. " What do you want ? What does he want, Paul ?''

'' 111 tell you. sir. In one moment. Give Tne a minute. I've run all the way. I've been out of town. On business, and most beautiful manifestations were the result. And on my return I learned the dreadful news."

"What is it, then ?" "I am ruined, Mr. Brudenel. That'sall. Ruined is the word. And through you. Oh ! Nothing but that. Ruin and WTeek. And through you. Through you. No doubt to oblige this young smooth-spoken villain who carne from America or somewhere to delude and cheat you out of your money—smooth-spoken as he is. Yah !" " You ruined ! Through me !"

"I bad two thousand pounds saved. Aiter a hard life—nobody knows better than you—l'd managed to scrape together two thousand pounds. I was going from business. Think, sir, what it was to Die when every young bantam-cock who could play a set of new-fangled tricks was preferred to tho steady honest old medium— and now I've lost it all."

"Good Heavens!" said Mr. Brudenel. "You don't mean to tell me that you had shares in the company, too '!"

" Why —didn't you advise me ? Didn't I act on your advice only five weeks a#o ? I have your very letter ! I've got it in my pocket."

Like Mr. Athelstan Kilburn, Chick produced a letter.

"Here is your letter, sir. I've kept it, fortunately. Now, sir, I don't think you will deny that this is your own handwriting. And the very day after you wrote it—l heard from a. young gentleman in the city— the) very day after you wrote this letter, your own shares, all your own shares were sold. Oh ! he knows it for a fact. So that while you were actually writing the letter you knew that the Company was going to bust up, and you were going to save yourBelf. Oh ! Mr. Brudenel, to think of the Riany, many times that we've sat around the table in a circle while the blessed Bpirruts sent us their messages and the spirrut music played and our hearts were warmed ! After all these manifestations that you —you—above all men, a gentleman and ail, should play us such a turn !" Mr. Brudenel said nothing. "I will read your letter," the man went On. " Perhaps the reading of it will refresh your memory as to the writing of it. "' Dear Chick." ' « " Dear Chick.' In the friendliness of it—who would have suspected? ' If ; as you say, you are dissatis«ed with tho safety of your mortgage and «ave called up your money, I am sure you

cannot do better than buy shares, if you can get them, in my old Company —Brudenle and Company. The shares have been going up steadily ever since the Company was stnrted, and even at the present prices I believe you can get a triflo over live per cent. Any stockbroker will find out for you if there are shares in the market.

•" Yours faithfully, • " Cyrus Brudesel." '

"This is truly terrible," Mr. Brudenel cried, looking at the letter and the date. "Yes, it is quite unaccountable —quite. I wrote this letter—l remember it now— and the letter to Athelstan Kilburn in the afternoon before dinner. And on the same day, the very same day, I wrote the letters which I do not remember, for the selling out of tho shares. It is truly wonderful. No—Chick. I've no explanation to offer. I have nothing to say." He sat down, and rapped his knuckles with his eyeglasses. "That is, I have an explanation," lie added, " but you would not accept it." It was by some inscrutable working of instinct that Air. Brudenel arrived at this knowledge. Air. Emanuel Chick would certainly not accept the explanation offered to Mr. Kilburn. No one, in fact, is more stubbornly incredulous concerning supernatural forces—other than his own—than the ordinary medium of commerce. You might as well look for belief in magic from a conjurer. He believes nothing; he has no kind of feeling, for intance, as regards ghosts ; he would set up his tent calmly in tho most ancient and lonely churchyard ; ho would wrap himself in a blanket, and go to sleep in a charncl house with a lighted candle stuck in a skull, and hundreds of skulls grinning at him, miles away from any other human creature, without the slightest tremor of his nerves. To tell Emanuel Chick that his old patron had been made to write that, or any other letter, by the spirits. Mould have been an insult to his understanding. " Well, sir," said tho man, roughly, " what are you going to do for me ? You have ruined me. That you can't deny. You sold out your own shares while* you recommended me to put in my money. That you can't deny. And me, grown old in your service, though you've left oiV employing me now. what are you going to do for me ? " I don't know." The justice of the claim was not to be to be disputed, nor the accuracy of the statements. " I don't know, Chick. I can't say. I will think. Co away now."

The man made no sign of going away. '•I haven't got the money," he said, sullenly, "for the quarter's rent, which is seven pounds five. I owe for a ton and a half of coal, which is thirty-five shillings. I've got no engagements ; business is terribly slack. And you've ruined me." Mr. Brudenel sighed and took a chequebook from his drawer.

'"Here,"' he said, "take this chequeIt will serve you for the present. "Two thousand pounds, at four percent.," Mr. Chick replied, looking at the cheque, "is eighty pounds a year. This is the first quarter. I will call again, Mr. Brudenel. You and me have been very friendly, and a lawyer between us would break friendship, as one may say. Good morning, sir." On this occasion no one looked at Paul. When the message of the bank-book revealed the sequestration of the money, everybody looked at him. Now everyone looked away from him. It was as if a look would have been construed into a reproach. " If one man saves his money, another man must lose it," said Tom. '' We have saved thirty-five thousand pounds, therefore other people have lost exactly that same amount. Mr. Athelstan Kilburn has lost, it appears, eight thousand, and Chick two, by our action and our advice. It seems to me, sir, that reparation will have to be made to Chick, at any rate.' , Mr. Brudenel shook his head sorrowfully. Why, when the Spirits made him sell those shares, did they not also prevent the writing of those letters ? It was true that his feet stood at last upon the Solid Rock, but still . . . there was a sense of incompleteness. Paul olYered no explanation, but he looked unhappy. At this moment a card was brought to Mr. Brudenel.

" Gentleman says he won't take a minute, sir. Wants to see you and Herr Paulus together." It was Mr. James Berry who followed on the heels of the man and stood at the open door, hat in hand, bowing pleasantly. " Berry !" cried Mr. Brudenel. " Here is another of them ! Are you here to say that you are ruined, too ?" "No, sir, no. It is only this morning that I learned, to my great joy, that you had been advised to sell out of the Company in time. No doubt it was this same adviser —my benefactor—who saved me from ruin" —he waved his hat gracefully in the direction of Paul—" Herr Paulus. And I came round, sir, to thank him—in your presence, Mr.Brudenel, sir."

" I don't quite understand, Berry." " I'd been in your service, sir, your father's service and yours and in the service of the Company for fifty years. If anybody except the Spirits had told me that the Company would fail I should have laughed in his face. But I've always been accustomed to ask the Spirits, through Mrs. Medlock, and when I was warned day after day by a man who ought to have known, being in the general manager's own olfice, and when Icould get no satisfaction at all from the Spirits, but entire silence or silliness—as, nobody knows better than you, sir, will happen at times—l grew ridgetty first, and frightened next. And Lavinia, who is truthfulness itself, confessed that she could do no more, but offered to give my case to Herr Paulus." " How long ago ?" "Some weeks ago." This was two weeks before Mr. Brudenel's sale was effected. " And I wrote my case, and gave it to Lavinia. And next day I got my orders. I Mas commanded to sell afc once."

" Did you," asked Tom, " tell Herr I'auhiri the name of the Company ?" " I did not, sir. It would have seemed black treachery in me to hint in a letter that I had suspicions of this Company, ■which has been my livelihood. No, sir, I put the case and I got my answer. Herr Puulus did not know the name of the Company, and I understand that he is a complete stranger to London. The advice was given by the Spirits, hiss friends, without his knowing anything of the Company." Paul coughed gently. Jt was not in human nature to avoid calling attention, however gently, to the triumph of tho moment. He had not known anything of the Company. "Ifc was my little all that was saved," Mr. Berry went on with emotion. "As for my pension, of course that stopped with the Company. It is only three per cent. I get on my money now, and it's a sad blow, but I can live on what I've got, and I'm saved from the workhouse—saved, sir, by Herr Paulus, whom I desire to thank in your presence, sir, and in the belief that he has saved you too." "Indeed he has, Berry," Mr. Brudenel replied. "We owe everything to Herr Paulus."

" Sir,' Mr. Berry addressed the blushing Paul, " may I venture—so far—sir—may I presume to touch your hand. "Ah ! sir, you are young yet, and have u great career of usefulness before you, with the help of the Spirits—a great career. Go on, sir ; scatter blessings; do good all around; bring their help to bear on sufferers; ward oft' dangers. Oh ! What would one give for a day—only a day—of sucli powers you possess !"

" I am glad—truly glad," said Paul, to have been able to do something for you at least."

"Something indeed! And not to know the name of the Company ! Next day, to be sure, talking it over with Lavinia, she found out that you had put two and two together." Paul withdrew his hand and suddenly betrayed every sign of confusion. " To be sure," this foolish old man went on " when you'd been told that I was in the service of a shipping company, formerly the property of one man and then of his two sons and then turned into a company, it was easy to guess." "Yes," said Paul. "You think so, I daresay. Good morning, Mr. Berry." And again nobody looked at Paul when Mr. Berry had gone, and Mr. Brudenel in his chair rapped his knuckles with his eyeglasses—like one who is mentally wrestlin" , with the giant Doubt. And nobody lookeS ab Paul.

CHAPTER VII. THE FOURTH BLOW.

I do not quite know how Paul got off the stage after that situation. He did not know himself. He only remembered that he looked up and met Sibyl's eyes, and they were full of pity, and that the others were not looking ab him. Then ho murmured

something and went out of the room with Mr. James Berry, whom he left at the door. It is not enough for a man to say that the past is gone, done, finished over. Every man's past—his boyhood, his manhood, his old thoughts, his old deeds, his words— live in his memory and cling to him like the fabled shirt which could not be torn off. Sometimes that shirt burns and tortures and oats into the quivering flesh ; but it cannot be taken off. Sometimes it is a soft, warm, and comfortable cloak with which to encounter cold December blasts ; and it cannot be blown off or taken away. When the man dies, what becomes of the living past ? Everywhere he saw detection, exposure, and contempt, and always from some unseen and unsuspected hand. It was known that he had been connected with a New York spiritualist—a Medium's Cad—oh ! ye gods, to have been called a Medium's Cad ! It was known that he had learned before the sale of the shares the shaky con dition of the Company, and all along ho had posed as the most ignorant man in the world concerning companies! The very servants looked at him with eyes of contempt ; from every quarter he felt the cold nipping wind of contempt. Men have proved themselves capable of bearing any kind of misfortune except one. They cannot bear contempt at any age. Contempt maddens. To escape contempt, Spartacus and his friends braved the might of the Roman Republic. To escape contempt men will inarch to the cannon's mouth. But when contempt is served out as a ration or a helping of Fate, man bows his head and dies, or he slinks into a corner and hides.

And no one, certainly, is an object of greater or more universal contempt than the pretended trafficker in things supernatural when he is found out. Many things may bo forgiven. The author of a play that is damned is presently allowed to walk with head erect. A man may steal a pig and yet redeem the respect of his fellow creatures. A statesman may eat all his words and yet contrive to find a faithful following. But a man who has been found out in spiritualistic trickery remains an object of contempt. And Paul saw in himself an object of this contempt. Once outside the pretences with which he had clothed himself, as a starving player struts tho stage and believes himself to be king, &c.—Paul had believed in those pretences—he was as quick as any others to see the past in all its true ugliness. The contempt did not exist in two hearts at least. As one pretence after another was laid bare, one woman's heart was tilled with pity and another's with love, but there was no contempt. Since he felt that way it was natural for him to turn his steps in the direction of Beaumont-street. That tie should be broken at once and for ever.

" Yes," he concluded, "I will not hear a single word. I have left the horrible, detestable, contemptible profession." " So !" The old man had listened without a word of interruption, tlwugh his face grew darker and darker. "So ! You have left the profession, Paul?" " I have left it. I wish to heaven that I had never entered it! Better have gone before the mast —or weighed out sugar; better—anything." " Ungrateful Paul!" "It is over at last. I have done it. Oh ! what a relief—what a relief to feel that I have done with it at last!"

" You have found some other profession, Paul?"

"Not yet. There is'plenty of time. I can look about me."

" You have found a patron with money, then : as well as a wife without ?"

"No. What need of a patron? I am come to draw my money. Give me my money ; I will take it away with me. Let me regulate my accounts." " Your money ? Your money?" The old man looked him steadfastly in the face from his white shaggy eyebrows. " What money ? What accounts ?"

" My money—my share." "Oh ! your money ? This is interesting. Wait a little ; we will come to that question afterwards. Now, Paul, do you think—l ask you seriously and without any anger on account of your hot words—do you think you are using me well in this matter ? In your new-fangled notions about truth and honesty I think you have forgotten my claims."

" What are your claims ?" " Let us examine the position. Seven years ago you came to me quite poor and quite ignorant. During that long time you have been my pupil. I have kept you and clothed you. I have tausrht you all you know — nay, I have taught you things that you could never have learned except from me. Is this true, Paul ?" He spoke gravely and earnestly. "It is quite true. Ido not deny it." ,: I found in you the germ—only the germ—of that power which you have developed, by my assistance, into the highest kind of magnetic influence. I made you what you are." " What I was, what I am no longer." "You do not deny, then, that you owe everything to me ?" " In all the arts which you profess and I have practised, I acknowledge my debt to you." " Do you suppose that I have taken all this trouble for nothing? Do you think that it consists of pure love that I gave you my time and imparted to you my knowledge ?" "I never did suppose that." " On the contrary, I looked to making my profit in the future. I thought that common gratitude would attach you to me, and that when, as has now happened, I should be laid on the .shelf, you would carry on the business still, the business which I made, and which I taught you as my partner instead of my assistant. ' "Your assistant? I have been your partner —" " I thought that the time would come when I should say, ' Paul, here are deeds of partnership. Let us sign them and henceforth share.' "

Paul jumped and turned pale. " Henceforth share? What do you mean ? Why, we have shared all these years, we have been partners." '' Partners "'. Oh ! no. Certainly not. Partners ? Indeed, my gifted young friend, you are carried away by your imagination. Never partners. You entered the house as my pupil. You remained as my assistant. You were my hired help. It remains with you to determine whether you will, in good time, become my partner." "Oh ! This is monstrous. Why, I have flone the lion's share of the work for six years and more. You have spoken of the business a thousand times as one joint concern."

"So I have. So I have. The joint concern of master and servant—as we say in England.' " I was your partner," Paul cried, angrily. "As your partner, I demand my share of the money. I never had any money. You kept it all for me. Whore are the books ? Give me my money, I say, and let me go." " Reach me my desk. Thank you, Paul, thank you." The old man sat up in his chair and opened the desk. "Now, here, my paid and hired assistant, is a paper in which I have jotted down, as near as I could make it out, a statement of our position as regards each other." Paul, otherwise Paulus, otherwise Paolo, In account with Professor Melcheis, Spiritualist. Creditor. Debtor. Six years' salary \ Board and !o<tj;-\ a-s Assistant ( sr mn in# ' n the best I Spiritualist at ( $o,uuu style, at 81500 I $10,500 §1000 / a year, weven I years .. .. ) Tuition Fees for'l Beven years at V $7,000 $1000 a year .. I Dress, chiefly in , black velvet and lace, in I β-rwi the best xtylo, f 5 ' ,000 at $1000 a . ■/■ . year .. .. ' - Moneys advanced for seven years, &c, ex- y $2,100 act account in cash book European tour^ Balance due to\ *no ß no for 8 Inont »s, r 83,000 Prof.MelchersJ & 3,bw say .. ..) Total .. .. $20,600 Total .. .. $20,600 " Here is the account, Paul." He handed the document, which was very neatly written on a piece of note-paper. " I think that no one can find fault with any of the items unless, perhaps, the charge for maintenance. But that is balanced by the enormous salary which you have received— and consider the luxury in which you lived. The tuition fee is moderate indeed." "Oh," cried Paul, "this is monstrous!" " Not at all, not at all. Quite regular and moderate. Should you accept the partnership which I now offer you, thn little debt would soon be wiped off. X might even make a reduction."

"I deny everything—everything," cried Paul. " You have called me your partner u thousand times. You have always spoken of one business. As for tuition, what had you to teach me after the first few months? He tore up the paper and threw the frag; ments on the table. " Give me my money, he said, hoarsely. "Give me my own and let me go." "If," said the old man, blandly, "if I said words of encouragement it was in order to make you zealous, and I will say that you became very zealous. There is not a trick of the trade, not a knot in the great web of deception which we weave, but was familiar to you. I took pride in my assistant. My old friends congratulated me upon you, Paul. You had your little weaknesses, such as inordinate vanity and a foolish desire to become a great man, which you could never be, and a constant craving for flattery. But I did take pride in you, and for the three years that you worked for me I did very well, very well indeed. The dollars rolled in. That is not to be denied. I had need of them in order to pay myself back something of that awful load of debt." "Oh ! Debt! Debt! I will not hear of it. Come, are you going to give me my share ?"

'' lam not, Paul. Once for all, lam not. If you persist in giving up a glorious business, and sacrificing my future as well as your own, not one solitary dollar do you get. This is my last word, Paul. Think it over. Think what it means."

Paul sunk into a chair. He had not looked for this. The old Professor Was his banker. If he wanted any money he asked him for it. He had always considered himself a partner, and he knew that the income of the lirm was very large during the three years when ho worked for it. And now—to be told that he was only an assistant. To be shown a sheet of paper by which it was made to appear that he owed his instructor three-and-twenty thousand dollars ! "It is my last word, Paul," the old man repoated, looking at him steadily with his keen eyes under his white eyebrows. "I shall proceed to consult a lawyer on the recovery of this debt." Paul made no reply. "Consider, my dear boy," his partner went on. "You have lost your power because you have neglected my warning, and sulTered your mind to become wholly occupied with a woman. Well—l have no objection to your marrying. I will even see that you start handsomely. When you have been married a month your mind will begin to recover its balance again, and your old power will gradually come back. Then we will all three go back to New York. I will have a deed of s partnership properly drawn up ; you shall conduct the active part of the business. I will sit by and advise. You will keep your wife in style and luxury ; you will be always learning more and more, and you will bo always becoming a greater power in the land. Listen now. Come down from your stilts and be reasonable. I have matured a scheme for getting at the private affairs of every man of standing in the city of New York ; it is a scheme absolutely safe, which shall never by any accident be connected with you and me. And you shall work the scheme. Come, Paul, I offer you the most enviable, the most delightful, the most honoured way of living possible, and you think of throwing it over for a mere scruple." Paul made no reply. " I confess, Paul, that I am loth to let you go, if by any persuasion or offers I can make you stay. I like you, boy. I have always liked you. And I admire you. I could never find, anywhere, another boy who would quite so well answer all my requirements. Indeed, I am too old now to look for another. You will bo a very great, an irreparable loss to me." Still Paul made no reply. " As for the money I nave saved," the old man kept his eyes on Paul, watching the effect of his words, " that will be no more than enough for my own simple wants. If I wished to be generous and to give you money, I could not afford it." Paul's face refused to show the least sign of being tempted. "And all for a wretched little scruple ! Paul, it makes me sorry for you. I have told you, over and over again, that in our profession we do no more harm than in other professions. They want our advice ; we sell it. They want counsel on all kinds of subjects ; we profess to give it. Very well. Sometimes it is good advice; sometimes it is bad. We do our best. Meantime we learn, and watch, and keep eyes and ears wide open. A laborious profession, Paul, but not without honour."

Then Paul arose and spoke with dignity and sadness. " Yes. It is hard upon you, after all your expectations. I will not work with you or for you any longer. lam sick and ashamed of the whole business. Whatever happens to me I will no longer be a cheat and a rogue by profession." " Words, Paul, words, empty words." " People did not come to consult us ; they came to consult the Spirits with whom we professed to communicate. I will haveno moro to do with it." " Then, Paul, let us waste no more words. (Jo from me —as you came to me—a Pauper. (To be continued.]