Henry Dunbar

r to describe the amount of its wealth. It was something fabulous, people said. The offices were situated in a dingy and narrow thoroughfare leading out of King Willi

ds of sovereigns, bars of bullion built up in stacks like so much firewood, and impregnable iron safes crammed to overflowing with bank bills and

in the City; and the names of Dunbar and Dunbar, painted upon the door-posts, and engraved upon shining brass plates on the mahog

d Percival, the younger of these brothers, had lately died at eighty years of

. The junior partner, Mr. Balderby, a good-tempered, middle-aged man, with a large family of daughters, and a handsome red-brick mansion on Clapham Common, had never possessed mo

men sat together in one of the shady offices at

ment Austin, and an old clerk, a man of about sixty-five years of ag

name was Sa

hough it was the height of summer, and most people found the weather insupportably hot. His face was wizen and wrinkled, his faded blue eyes dim and weak-looking. He was feeble,

monotonous existence of perpetual toil, unrelieved by any home joys or social pleasure

w court near the bank, and went twice ev

lagstones of that City church, and to lie cheek

on a sultry August evening, in order to consult together upon rather an impor

nd-thirty years, and no living creature now employed in t

the offices of the Indian branch of the bank; first as clerk, afterwards as chief and manager

rged the acceptance of a young nobleman, a brother officer of Henry Dunbar's, and

ce of his son's honour. That which would have been called a crime in a poorer man was only considered an error in the dashing youn

ilmot, who had been a few months prior to that time engaged as messenger in the banking-house - a young fellow of nin

speedily discovered their fraudulent na

ar; the bill-brokers knew that his acceptance was a forgery; but they

d not care to see the heir of

e duly honoured; but the dashing young officer was compelled to sell his comm

ortification to the h

hind the bank on this oppressive August even

't come into the firm till ten years after he sailed for India; but I've heard t

ox and a red cotton handkerchief, "and I doubt if any one knows the rights of that story except me, and I can remember it as

Henry Dunbar is coming home in a few days, we may as well know the real

y like wildfire. It was in the year '15, sir, and our house had done wonders on 'Change. Mr. Henry Dunbar was a very handsome young man in those days - very handsome, very aristocratic-looking, rather haughty in his manners to strangers, but affable and free-spoken to those who happened to take his fancy. He was very extravagant in all hi

dering every farthing he could ge

andsome and as gentlemanly a lad as the young cornet himself; for poor Joseph - that's my brother, gentlemen - had been educated a bit above his station, being my mother's favourite son, and fifteen years younger than me. Mr. Henry took a great deal of notice of Joseph, and used to talk to him while he was waiting about to see his father or his uncle. At last he asked the lad one day if he'd like to leave the bank, and go and live with him as a sort of confidential servant and amanuensis, to write his

re the bills

y in a month or so from his father, and that if he could do anything just to preserve his credit for the time, and meet the claims of the vulgar City betting fellows who were pressing him, he should be able to make all square afterwards. Then, little by little, it came out that he wanted my brother, who had a wonderful knack of imi

the first time your broth

y a time imitate the signature of this firm, and other signatures, upon a half-sheet of letter-paper, for the mere fun of the thing: but I don't believe

ough!" murmured Mr. Bal

character, and never held his head up in an honest situation again. He went from bad to worse, and three years after Mr. Henry sailed for India, my bro

y sad story. I have heard something of it before, but

rly of his fate; but for five-and-twenty years I've never had a line from him. I can't doubt that he's dead. Poor Joseph! - poor boy! - poor boy! The misery of all this killed my mother. Mr. Henry Dunbar committed a great sin when he tempted that lad to wrong; and many

shrugged hi

n," he said; "Mr. Dunbar has had a long immunity from his sins. I should

late; when the man who committed the sin had well nigh forgotten it. Evil trees bear evil fruit, Mr. Balderb

rged bills," said Mr. Austin, the cas

rather impatient of the o

inspector, and the inspector said,' Pay the money, but don't debit it against his lordship.' About an hour afterwards the inspector carried the bill to Mr. Percival Dunbar, and directly he set eyes upon it, he knew t

ther came forward and owned to having done it, laughing at his own cleverness. I told him then that it was a fatal facility, a fatal facility, and now he has proved the truth of my words by helping my son to turn forger and thief. That signature must be honoured, though I should have to sacr

man come?" asked

I left Mr. Percival Dunbar's room, in comes Mr. Henry, da

father's room, sir?' I said; 'he

hite as I said this; but he tried to carry it off with a

at the writing-table. 'You may as well hear what I have to say. I wish somebody whom

,' I answered, '

to look innocent and surprised; but it wouldn't do, for his lips tremb

ar handed him

at's the mat

the bill in his hand; but his uncle checked him. 'Do not add perjury to the cri

head. 'I meant to take them up before they fell due, Uncle Hugh,' he said. 'I did, indeed; I stood to win a hatful of money upon the Liverpool Summer Meeting, and I m

eds. They act under the pressure of circumstances. They don't mean to do any wrong - they don't intend to rob any body of a sixpence. But that first false step is the starting point upon the

the forged signature was his own doing, or the work of any body else. The cornet hesitated for a little, and then told his uncle the name of his accompl

he banking house in an hour's time, and was brought straight into the p

didn't tremble, and he had altogether

taxed him with

it, Joseph Wil

. 'If my master has betrayed me, I have no wish to deny anyt

n, and I give you warning that you will get no character from me. I respect your brother Sampson, and shall retain him in my service in spite of what you have done; bu

hat and walked slow

him. Remember he is little more than a boy; and w

ty,' he answered, sternly: 'his master

s; but, when his hand was on the handle of the

'I have been very much attached to you, sir, and I don't want to thin

bent forward upon his breast, and seemed as if

before, 'he has nothing to say for you

ashing fire. 'Let him consider it a lucky escape,' he said, pointing to Mr. Henry Dun

fore any body c

Dunbar turned

chosen to fling your chances into the gutter. You must begin again, and begin this time upon the lowest step of the ladder. You will sell your commission, and sail for Calcutta by the next ship that leaves

rted from his chair a

u don't mean it, Uncle Hugh; surely you don't mea

entered the room. He sat with his elbow resting upon the arm of his

ow, even when his s

r you to prove whether you are worthy to inherit it. You will have to begin life afresh. You have played the man of fashion, and your aristocratic associates have led you to the position in which you find yourself to-day. You must turn your back upon the past,

for some minutes, then h

that I have been harshly

go?" said

leave of a living creature, and I fully believe that he never in his heart forgave either his father or his uncle. He worked his way up, as you know, sir, in the Calcutta counting-house, and by slow degr

a very beautiful girl, and Percival Dunbar idolized her. But now to return to business, my good Samps

m, s

er in England, and will require a business man about him to manage matters for him, and take all trouble off his hands. These Anglo–Indians are apt to be indolent, you know, and he may be all the worse for

s ruin; but I am ready to do what you wish, Mr. Balderby. It's business, and I'm ready to do anything in the way of business. I'm only a sort of machine,

e of that

start for Sout

t. I leave everything in your hands. Miss Laura Dunbar will come up to town to meet her father at the house in Portland Place. The poor girl is very anxious to see him, as she has not set eyes upon him since she was a chi

clerk a pocket-book contai

istence. His picture was painted when he was a young man, and exhibited in the Royal Academy; but his father didn't think the likeness a good one, and sent it back to the artist, who promised to alter and improve it. Strange to say, this artist, whose name I forget, delayed from day to day performing his promise, and at the expiration of a twelvemonth left

ed, "he was very handsome - tall

ss Dunbar: is she

gether different, and her expre

't detain you any longer. You

ir, per

ls at Southampton - say the Dolphin - and wait there till the Electra steamer com

k bowed and

ur new chief very speedily. He must know that you and I cannot be entirely ignorant of the sto

l hate us because of that very crime of his own, knowing that we are in the secret, and will be all the more