As I stood over him, attempting to revive him by the use of such means as were at hand, I thought how great must have been the shock which had so overpowered his faculties. His strength of body, and pride of soul, were, for the time, laid low. What a pity that he had not possessed the right kind of pride; not merely the ambition to rise above the machinations of his enemies, and put them under his feet, but the pride that despises a mean action, and dreads a crime more than its consequences. Such a feeling would have been a safeguard; but I was sorry to observe that, while he was confessing his guilt, the thought of his enemies' triumph over him was uppermost in his mind.
He had now somewhat revived, and wishing to calm his exasperated feelings, (which I supposed were in some measure the cause of his present condition,) by turning his thoughts to another channel, I inquired of the Marshal, in a rather low tone, whether he had any family.
"He has a wife, I believe," was the reply, and in a moment B. was saying to himself, his eyes still shut.
"Jane, Jane, what will you think? Don't despise me, if you can help it."
He went on for some little time in this strain, displaying a high regard for his wife's affection and good opinion, and an apprehension that he might have forfeited them by his misconduct; an apprehension utterly groundless—so far, at least, as regarded affection, for the undying flame of love in a true woman's heart cannot so be quenched.
Mrs. B., as I afterwards learned, was a most estimable woman, whose influence had doubtless been of great benefit to her husband. Alas! that the power of his good angel could not have triumphed over the temptation to which he yielded!
When he had recovered sufficiently to walk about, the Marshal took him in charge, and conveyed him to a neighboring town, where the United States District Judge resided, for examination. His friends, who were highly respectable, were informed by telegraph of his arrest, and gave the required bail for his appearance at trial.
Thus we have traced out an important part of the career of one whose character was laid low, not by his enemies, but by his own hand. And whenever I pass through the pleasant town which was the scene of these transactions, a shade of melancholy comes over me, entirely at variance with the general cheerful appearance both of the place and the surrounding landscape.
On one of the last occasions that I was in that vicinity, the train on which I was traveling stopped for a few moments at this station. It was a delightful summer's day, and if the objects which met my eye, as I gazed up and down the street, had not been, many of them, monuments to me of a melancholy history, I should have thought that the place yielded in beauty to few of the villages which adorn New England. But a stranger occupied the store where the unfortunate B. maintained the contest with his rivals; the post office was in other hands; and I was just turning away from a scene that suggested nothing but unpleasant reminiscences, when Squire W. emerged from the station-house, and cordially addressed me. This was the first time I had seen him, since our memorable interview in his office.
"Good morning, Mr. H.," said he; "how is the rogue-catching business now? I suppose you have disposed of a good many since you despatched B. so summarily. When I first heard of his arrest, feeling sure of his innocence as I did. I don't know that I should have been much surprised if you had come after me next; and I felt a little sore, to tell you the truth, to think that my endorsement of him had so little weight with you. But I have since seen that you were perfectly right about it, though I am sorry that poor B. should have turned out so badly."