I will tell it more briefly than in his rambling, commenting fashion. He had little of the brotherly love that desires to cover up faults, or hide the worst of any untoward incident.
Louis’ boarding place might have proved a judicious home, but a month after his being settled with Mrs. Fuller, a young clerk came to share his comforts, one of those selfish, astute persons as Stephen afterwards learned, who with his pleasing address and flattering deference soon won Louis’ regard and confidence, and introduced him to some dangerous companions. This was followed by late hours and gaming. To a nervous, excitable nature these games of chance with an occasional victory, became a dangerous fascination. Louis was no match for his adversaries. They looked upon him as a rich, hot-headed, ignorant young fellow and drew him on until he found himself heavily in debt. The money sent for his current expenses was swallowed up, and proved but a drop in the whirlpool.
One evening he had begun with the luck in his favor and felt wonderfully elated. At midnight he would fain have left them, but they bantered him to stay, rather hinting that a defection would be from basely selfish motives. He was not to be dared and took his seat again, losing heavily on the first play. The others had been drinking and grown a trifle careless. He was watching with eager, restless eyes and detected to his surprise, a play so unusual that it brought an instant conviction to his mind that even his trusted friend might be in league against him.
He mastered his indignation and went steadily on, every sense alert with suspicion. Presently the trick was repeated, his opponent winning triumphantly. But his endurance came to an end with this, and he burst forth in angry vehemence, accusing everybody, and hurling passionate epithets that roused the wrath of the small circle, which they resented as warmly. A bitter taunt cost Louis the last remnant of self-control, and he flew at his adversary with a tiger’s strength and quickness. One tremendous blow ended the contest.
“Good Heavens! Duncan, you have killed him!” cried one of the party. “You’ll rue this night’s work!”
His youth and his impulsiveness led him astray again. Like a flash he beheld the disgrace, the awful crime, the consternation of all who knew him. Obeying his first unreasoning impulse he fled from the place. Whither should he go? Death would be preferable to arrest and scandal.
He had a small amount of money with him and it was but a few steps to the station. The train made a moment’s halt and he stepped on board in the darkness. If he had waited until morning it would have proved only a disgraceful gambling brawl. The injured youth was brought to consciousness and through the physician’s efforts saved from congestion. A few day’s illness would be the result to him, but the story spread like wild-fire, exaggerated in every respect. This was the account that came from Stuart.
Papa was horror stricken at the first moment. He buried his face in his hands and gave the letter to mother.
“Poor boy!” she said tenderly. “His unfortunate temper, his distrust of those who would have proved his best friends, and his credulity in other respects, have made him an easy victim. But what has become of him?”
“I must go immediately,” papa exclaimed. “I am in some sense his keeper. I ought to have looked after him before. Poor lad. How we prayed for him to be spared last summer! Perhaps—”