THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR; 
 
 Mt of fyt Sinus. 
 
 BY T. S. ARTHUR, 
 
 LUTOOB OF "BICHES HATE WINGS," "BBING IN THE WOKLD," 
 
 "KEEPING VP AJPKARAVCES," "MAKISO HASTE 
 
 TO BE BICH," ETC. 
 
 NEW EDITION. 
 
 NEW YOEK: 
 J. M. FAIR CHILD & CO. 
 
 109 NASSAU-STREET. 
 1857.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1847, 
 
 BY BAKEE & SCEIBNER, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 Southern District of New York.
 
 PS 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF EMBARRASSMENTS, 5 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THEIR PROGRESS, 13 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE CRISIS, 25 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 THE FAILURE, 42 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 THE MEETING OF CREDITORS, 62 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 THE ASSIGNMENT, 74 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 COMING DOWN LOOKING TO THE FUTURE, .... 92 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 ErFErrs 106 
 
 '
 
 IV CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PiO, 
 
 NOBLE SELF-DEVOTION, 113 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 SOME CHANGE IN THE ASPECT. OF AFFAIRS,. . . 129 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 MARION'S REWARD, 139 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 THE OPERATION OF TURNER'S NO-RELEASE 
 
 SYSTEM, 154 
 
 CHAPTER Xm. 
 EVERTON OUTWITTED, 162 
 
 CHAPTER X3V. 
 THE DAWN OF BETTER DAYS, 172 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 CONCLUSION, 177
 
 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF EMBARRASSMENTS. 
 
 AFTER a severe struggle of twenty years in 
 the business world, Mr. Lewis Coleman found 
 himself inextricably involved in difficulties. 
 During at least seven years of that period, he 
 had suffered more than poverty could inflict 
 upon any man ; for, overtrading and losses had 
 so crippled him that, in the whole time, ho 
 had not once laid his head upon his pillow 
 without an oppressive weight of care on his 
 bosom. 
 
 Most men, in like circumstances, act ag Mr. 
 Colman acted. They toil on in hope, yea^ after 
 year, though all is really hopeless. lit five 
 years before, Mr. Coleman found himselfVcom- 
 pelled to stop payment, he had called his^ cre- 
 ditors together, and given up every thing' into 
 theii hands, he would have paid a better divi- 
 1*
 
 6 DEBTOR AND CREDITi R. 
 
 dend by at least thirty per cent, than he was 
 finaHy able to make. But, it is no easy mat- 
 ter to look bankruptcy in the face, even in 
 this country, where the penalties are so much 
 lighter than in other parts of the world. The 
 unfortunate debtor who commits even serious 
 mistakes in his efforts to sustain a crippled 
 business, deserves at least some consideration ; 
 and to palliate and excuse his errors is often 
 more just than to charge him with premeditat- 
 ed wrong. 
 
 We have heard it remarked by men who 
 have themselves been tried in the fire, that, as 
 far as experience and observation enabled them 
 to judge, they were satisfied that men in busi- 
 ness, whose affairs had become seriously em- 
 barrassed, were, to a certain degree, insane, 
 for in no other way could they account for 
 what they had themselves done, and seen others 
 do, in cases of great extremity. There is more 
 truth in this than persons who have never 
 been so tried, may feel disposed to believe. 
 Acts, really dishonest in themselves, when 
 viewed abstractly, are done, and these acts are 
 pronounced dishonest by creditors, and visited 
 with the harshest punishment they can inflict, 
 when, in the mind of the bewildered, distressed, 
 and agitated debtor, at the time such acts were
 
 BEGINNING OF EMBARRASSMENTS. 7 
 
 done, there was no thought of securing any 
 selfish good, but only the hope of extricating 
 himself from difficulties, and paying those to 
 whom he owed money every cent that was due. 
 But, the acts were the acts of an insane man 
 of a man whose mind had lost its clear rational 
 perceptions though judged as the cool, de- 
 liberate purposes of one who had fraud in his 
 heart. 
 
 It will not be without its uso to show how 
 Mr. Coleman did act during tae short period 
 that elapsed before the final business catastro- 
 phe came. Judged by strict rules, many things 
 in his conduct cannot be justified ; but it is the 
 ruling end of a man's life that determines the 
 quality of his acts. This should ever be kept 
 in mind in all the judgments we make upon 
 men's conduct. Cross words and violent 
 storms may drive a man sometimes a little out 
 of his way ; but when he is honest, at heart, he 
 will, as soon as opportunity offers, consult his 
 compass and chart, and by the aid of new ob- 
 servations, get his vessel once more in her true 
 course. That he is to blame for having, even 
 in the most violent storm, neglected his chart 
 and compass, no one will deny ; but the cen- 
 sure may be much more justly against his sea- 
 manship than his integrity though too few of
 
 8 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 us arc apt to think so until some sharp experi- 
 ences make us more ready to judge by kinder 
 rules. 
 
 Mr. Coleman commenced business, origin- 
 ally, with a small capital, and went on, pru- 
 dently, for a number of years, gradually accu- 
 mulating property, and coming into the self- 
 complacent state of a man well-to-do in the 
 world, who is not troubled with many inordi- 
 nate desires. But, during a season when al- 
 most everybody was beside himself on the sub- 
 ject of making a fortune in a day, Mr. Coleman 
 was tempted beyond his depth, and came near 
 going under. His losses, for him, were severe, 
 and for a short time he considered his case 
 hopeless. Upon a careful investigation of his 
 affairs, he saw that if he were to close up his 
 business, he must become a bankrupt, and from 
 that thought he shrunk away with an inward 
 shudder. 
 
 " I can and I will rescue myself!" he said, 
 with a manly and honest sentiment at heart. 
 " No one shall point to me and say ' There 
 goes Lewis Coleman, who failed and cheated 
 me out of five hundred or five thousand dol- 
 lars.' No no ! I have health and a sound 
 mind ; and I will trust to them to carry me 
 safely through."
 
 BEGINNING OF EMBARRASSMENTS 9 
 
 But Coleman, like many others in the M orld, 
 iras not long in discovering that it is much 
 easier for a man to make a slip than it is to re- 
 cover himself. The capital withdrawn from 
 his business by losses, had to be supplied by 
 loans and accommodations, temporary or per- 
 manent, as the case might be, and the interest 
 thereon deducted from his regular profits. 
 And, besides, there was now a serious draw- 
 back not brought into the account. This was 
 the great detriment his business suffered from 
 the diversion of a large part of his time and 
 thoughts now necessarily taken up in devising 
 and carrying out the ways and means of raising 
 the money instantly needed to meet his daily 
 maturing paper. Few think of the detriment 
 arising from the last mentioned circumstance, 
 yet it is amongst the most serious any business 
 has to encounter, and is, generally, the last 
 but most active of all the causes that unite to 
 destroy it. 
 
 In the overtrading operations to which allu- 
 sion has been made, Mr. Coleman lost thirty 
 thousand dollars, and a large part of this 
 amount he found it necessary to supply by bor- 
 rowing, in order to keep his business in that 
 advance position necessary to ensure the profit 
 needed to support a large family, and make up
 
 10 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 for the losses lie had unfortunately sustained 
 He might have borrowed less and still been 
 able to make his payments, but then he would 
 have been compelled to curtail at various points, 
 and, in consequence, diminish his profits, and 
 this was not to be thought of. At best the 
 profits would be too light to meet his wants. 
 
 In borrowing the sum of twenty thousand 
 dollars, which was obtained in various ways 
 and from different sources, at least two thou- 
 sand dollars in interest, legal and illegal, had to 
 be paid. This was so much taken from the 
 profits of the business. Had the whole of this 
 amount been obtained at a single operation, 
 and as a permanent loan, even at the large in- 
 terest of ten per cent., the expense thereof, 
 though a serious matter might not have been 
 too heavy a burden ; but this was not the case. 
 Only about five thousand dollars were in the 
 form of a permanent loan. As for the rest, 
 all of it was of the most temporary character. 
 A small amount, by the aid of friends, came 
 through bank ; about ten thousand dollars were 
 raised on his own paper, and on the regular 
 bills received in his business, at the serious cost 
 of one per cent, a month. Other operations 
 ranged from one and a half to two and a half, 
 nd even three per cent, a month.
 
 BEGINNING OF EMBARRASSMENTS. 11 
 
 The time and thoughts required to make these 
 operations, ever ending still beginning, occu- 
 pied, daily, the best portion of his business 
 hours, and, of necessity, nearly all the details 
 of business were left to his clerks. They could 
 sell when customers came in if they had the 
 right kind of goods to offer ; but the interest 
 they felt in what they were doing went little, it 
 any, further. Abuses, detrimental to their 
 employers, sprung up ; but, if he could not 
 see them, no one felt called upon to enlighten 
 him. But this was not all ; there was a great fall- 
 ing off in the buying department, and hundreds 
 of dollars went to other stores that would have 
 been left at Coleman's, if the assortment ot 
 goods there had been as extensive and choice 
 as before. The reason of this lay in the diversion 
 of Mr. Coleman's mind from regular business 
 by the necessity which compelled him to spend 
 half of his time and attention in raising money 
 to meet his payments. Neglect of his accounts 
 came, also, as a natural result of the causes 
 producing a neglect of other parts of his busi- 
 ness, and hundreds, even thousands of dollars 
 were left outstanding that might have been col 
 lected, and thus been made to take the place ol 
 money borrowed at an exorbitant price. 
 
 All these causes combined, produced more
 
 12 DEBTOR AN'. CREDITOR. 
 
 serious embarrassments, and those, by turning 
 the thoughts of Coleman still more and more 
 away from his business, led on to those which 
 were greater, and made the ultimate result still 
 more certainly disastrous. 
 
 There were seasons when Colenian would 
 pause, and with desperate resolution, make a 
 few hurried estimates from which to deduce the 
 probable result of his business. His nights were 
 generally sleepless for some time afterwards ; 
 or, rather, his sleep was so troubled and broken 
 that the morning found him unrefreshed. Such 
 deductions were far from being flattering to his 
 hopes. They showed every thing to be in a 
 worse condition than he had supposed ; and yet, 
 ndt so bad as the reality ; for, the estimates 
 being all hurried, were, of course, crude and 
 very defective. 
 
 " If I had but possessed the resolution to 
 stop and face this difficulty long ago, when my 
 hands were not tied as they are now, oh ! how 
 much better it would have been," he would 
 say, often, on such occasions. " But now ! 
 No no ! I cannot stop now !" 
 
 With little hope, and much despondency, 
 Lewis Coleman kept pressing on, getting more 
 and more deeply involved at every step. He 
 felt that it was so, yet, with a sort of blind con-
 
 THEIR PROGRESS. 13 
 
 fidencc in some favorable turn of fortune, went 
 forward day after day and month after month, 
 borrowing from one friend to pay another, and 
 trying to prevent a suspicion of the real state 
 of his business from getting abroad, by speak- 
 ing to almost every one he met of the many 
 profitable operations he was constantly making. 
 Many were deceived by such statements ; and 
 he made them so repeatedly and from such a 
 confirmed habit, that, when he did not reflect 
 upon the too serious reality, he more than half 
 believed them himself. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THEIR PROGRESS. 
 
 THUS, for some years, Coleman went on, ac- 
 tually losing ground, all the while, at a most 
 serious rate. For a large part of the time he 
 was in a state of mind altogether unfitting him 
 for a proper attention to business. But, not a 
 creditor or friend suspected the truth. He 
 could still buy as freely and upon as long a 
 time as ever, and this led him into still greater 
 2
 
 14 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 difficulties by tempting him to make heavier 
 operations in the hope of getting larger profits. 
 An unsafe course under any circumstances with 
 limited capital, it was ruinous for him ; for the 
 larger his operations, under his system of ne- 
 glecting the main interests of his business in 
 order to raise money for immediate use in pay- 
 ing his regular notes, accommodations, and tem- 
 porary loans, the more deeply must he of 
 necessity involve himself. 
 
 Nothing is more palpable than this to a 
 looker on who sees every thing without feeling 
 any thing. But men situated as Coleman was, 
 seem cursed with a strange blindness to the real 
 truth of their positions, and plunge on, involving 
 themselves deeper and deeper at every step, 
 until at last, they sink in hopeless ruin. 
 
 About a year before Coleman's failure to 
 meet his payments, which resulted in an entire 
 destruction of his business, he commenced 
 greatly increasing all his operations. Hereto- 
 fore his annual sales were about eighty thou- 
 sand dollars. He now pushed them to above 
 a hundred thousand, and set down, in his 
 mind, the gross profits at twenty per cent. For 
 losses of various kinds, and for store expenses, 
 he allowed ten per cent. Then deducting three 
 thousand dollars for the cost of maintaining, his
 
 THEIR TROGKESS 15 
 
 family, he had seven thousand dollars for hia 
 annual profits, which he vainly flattered him- 
 self would soon place him beyond the difficul- 
 ties that surrounded him. 
 
 There was scarcely any time during that last 
 and most disastrous year that Coleman did not 
 affirm, whenever it camo in his way to do so, 
 that his business was netting him, after deduct- 
 ing his store and family expenses, from seven 
 to ten thousand dollars. Everybody believed 
 this, and, a little strange to say, Coleman al- 
 most believed it himself though it was with 
 fear and trembling. 
 
 " If I can only stand it a year or two longer, 
 all will be well," he would say to- himself, as 
 he struggled along. And then he would make 
 some new effort to sustain himself. 
 
 At last, as his bills for the heavier purchases 
 of this year began to fall due, he found that he 
 must raise, by some means, twenty-five thousand 
 dollars, or it would be impossible to keep afloat. 
 How to raise this was the grave and important 
 question, more easy to ask than to answer. 
 But, along familiarity with money -raising ope- 
 rations, made him acquainted with various mo- 
 ney-raising means unknown to the uninitiated. 
 
 After thinking over the matter for several 
 days, Mr. Coleman wont one morning to see a
 
 J6 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 very respectable individual, leading a retired 
 life, engaged in no business, but reputed to be, as 
 he was, a man of fortune. This person's name 
 was Everton. Coleman knew him very well. 
 
 " I want an accommodation from you," ho 
 said, on meeting Everton. 
 
 " What is it ?" inquired the person ad- 
 dressed. 
 
 " I want to raise about twenty- five thousand 
 dollars." 
 
 " Well." 
 
 " For which sum I want to get your notes, 
 at the usual interest of one-half per cent a 
 month, which you receive on operations of this 
 kind." 
 
 " So much as twenty-five thousand dollars r" 
 said Everton. 
 
 " Yes. My business is rapidly extending, 
 and I want to keep pace with it. This year I 
 shall make a profit of at least twenty thousand 
 dollars, which I think very good." 
 
 "Oh yes! that will do very well. What 
 security have you to offer ? I need not tell you 
 that I never lend my credit to any one without 
 the most ample security." 
 
 Coleman looked a little serious. 
 
 " I have neither real estate, nor stocks ; for 
 I have preferred keeping what I made in my
 
 THEIR PROGRESS. 17 
 
 businoss," lie replied to this. " But I will tell 
 you what I propose to do. It is this to give 
 you my notes for fifty thousand dollars with a 
 private understanding that after I have lifted 
 one-half, the others are to be returned to me. 
 This, you see, will make you perfectly secure, 
 for in the event of any disaster happening to 
 my business, which I don't of course fear, it 
 will give you a claim of fifty thousand dollars 
 on my estate to cover twenty-five thousand 
 dollars actually due ; and it would be a despe? 
 rate state of affairs indeed, that didn't yield 
 fifty cents on the dollar." 
 
 To this proposition Everton shook his head. 
 That, he said, was an unusual, and he believed, 
 an unsafe way of doing business. If Coleman 
 had any sufficient and tangible security to offer, 
 he would not refuse to accommodate him ; but 
 unless he had, h'e would not lend him his notes. 
 
 " I have nothing to offer but the stock in my 
 store, that varies from forty to sixty thousand 
 dollars," said Mr. Coleman. 
 
 Everton sbook his head and replied 
 
 " Bad security." 
 
 " Not bad for a sum like twenty-five thou- 
 sand dollars." 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 " Say twenty thousand." Coleman was dik
 
 18 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 posed to press this matter, for it was clear to 
 him that unless he could get the sum he wanted, 
 he must inevitably be driven to the wall ; and 
 equally clear that if he could get it, all would 
 be safe. 
 
 But Everton shook his head. He did not 
 like to have anything to do with such security 
 as Coleman offered. His usual mode of doing 
 business was this : Being a man of large pro- 
 perty his credit was good, and therefore his 
 uptes could always be used. Knowing this, 
 many persons were in the habit of going to 
 him and getting his notes for a certain amount, 
 say five thousand dollars and giving their own 
 in exchange, to fall due one or two days before 
 his note. For this loaning of his credit he 
 charged the regular interest of one half per 
 cent, a month, and required security that could 
 be made immediately available : such, for in- 
 stance as state or Bank stocks ; and this se- 
 curity must be double in amount to the paper 
 loaned, unless it was of the most solid charac- 
 ter. In this way, without either using or risk- 
 ing a dollar, Everton was making his ten thou- 
 sand dollars a year, besides what his real estate 
 produced him, which was, in itself a large in- 
 come. 
 
 Coleman went away, on finding that Everton
 
 THEIR PROGRESS. 19 
 
 was iii no way dispossd to accommodate him 
 unless he could offer a different kind of se- 
 curity ; but he had been so sanguine of getting 
 the sum he wanted from this source, and had 
 built so much upon it, that the disappointment 
 threw him completely on his back, and forced 
 from him this admission, though made only to 
 himself 
 
 " If I don't get assistance from Everton, I 
 am lost ; for it is imposible to push ahead this 
 immense weight of accommodation. Two 
 thirds of my time is spent in mere money- 
 raising, to the neglect of my business ; and yet 
 with this great sacrifice, I cannot get enough 
 to meet my payments without the greatest ef- 
 forts." 
 
 Two days afterwards Coleman called upon 
 Everton again. 
 
 "I think I can satisfy you in the way of se- 
 curity," said he. 
 
 " If you can, it will be all right." 
 
 " I'll tell you what I will do." 
 
 " Well." 
 
 " My stock of goods at cash price, is worth 
 sixty thousand dollars, and generally stands at 
 about that. I will place in your hands as se- 
 curity for your notes, a confession of judgment 
 covering this entire stock, to take effect imrne-
 
 20 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 diately upon my failure to pay my notes given 
 in exchange. How will that do ?" 
 
 " I don't like it," said Everton. 
 
 " It will make you perfectly safe." 
 
 " I havn't the least doubt of that. But 1 
 am not used to dealing in such securities. lu 
 case of anything happening to you, I should be 
 compelled to sell you out, and I would rather 
 not do that. Other interests would suffer, and 
 both you and I be blamed." 
 
 " There is no danger of that. My business 
 is in too sound a condition. If I apprehended 
 the selling out of the security I offer, I would 
 not give it, for it would be putting in one man's 
 hands the power to injure all my other credit- 
 ors. But as I have said, there is no danger of 
 that." 
 
 Still Everton was disinclined to have any- 
 thing to do with a stock of goods as security 
 for the loan of his paper. But Coleman 
 pressed so hard, and finally agreed to take 
 three notes of five thousand dollars each in ex 
 change for his own of the same amounts, gua- 
 ranteed by a judgment on the entire stock in his 
 store, that Everton yielded to his wishes. 
 
 These three notes Coleman placed in the 
 hands of a street broker, offering to let them 
 go at two per cent, a month, if no better terms
 
 THXIR PROGRESS. 2\ 
 
 aouM be made. Money happened to be very 
 scarce , or, rather, hard to get from those who 
 had it ; and after trying for a day, the brokei 
 informed Colemai that he had not been able 
 to get the discount he wished. 
 
 " Will you go any higher ?" he asked, 
 
 " Higher than two per cent, a month !" 
 
 " Yes, I saw some of the best paper in the 
 market sold to day for three per cent." 
 
 " A man had better fail at once, than bo 
 shaved like that. He will surely fail in the end. " 
 
 " That is, if he continue to raise money at 
 such a rate. But it is not supposed that any 
 body does much of that kind of business. There 
 are times when the payment of a few hundred 
 dollars in an exorbitant discount prevents a 
 failure ; and when it does that, it is anything 
 but a ruinous business, I should say." 
 
 " That's a different thing." 
 
 " Of course. It isn't supposed, for a mo- 
 ment, that either you or any other business 
 man can afford to pay even one per cent, a 
 month, for all the money he uses. Street rates 
 of discount are only for extra and forced ope- 
 rations." 
 
 " Do you think you $an get this paper done 
 tor two and a half per cent. ?" asked Coleman 
 
 " I don't know ; but I can try."
 
 22 DE1JTOR AND CREl'lTOR. 
 
 " I must have five thousand to-morrow." 
 
 " Very well. You shall have it if I can 
 get it." 
 
 After the notes were obtained and the judg- 
 ment given upon his stock, not over a day 
 passed before Coleman began to feel a little 
 uneasy. He knew the character of Everton 
 very well, and was perfectly aware that the 
 judgment would be closed without a moment's 
 delay, if he failed to lift the notes he had given ; 
 and this would not only completely break him 
 up, but would involve the sacrifice, by forced 
 sale, of his entire stock, and throw his other 
 creditors out of any benefit therein. But what 
 was done could not now be helped, and he tried 
 not to let it disturb his mind. 
 
 " All I have to do," he said, speaking to 
 himself words of encouragement, "is to see 
 that these notes are taken up, and then if the 
 worst comes to the worst, all will share alike." 
 
 On the next day the money broker called to 
 see him, with the information that he could get 
 one of the notes shaved at two and a half per 
 cent, a month. 
 
 " Nothing better can be done," said tho 
 man. " Money is money, now." 
 
 " Two and a half per cent. ! outrageous 
 It is no better than robbery "' said Coleman.
 
 THEIR PROGRESS. 
 
 " Call it by what name you will," returned 
 the broker, " they can get it, and they will 
 have it. It is the price of money to-day, and 
 they always claim the highest price." 
 
 " I must have it," said Coleman, with a 
 sigh, " and, therefore, it is of no avail to stand 
 scolding about what can't be helped. Get the 
 money for me." 
 
 The broker went out and obtained it as de- 
 sired. The note had six months to run. The 
 discount, with the broker's commission added, 
 made seven hundred and twenty five dollars ' 
 The other two notes were done at very little 
 better rates. 
 
 In this operation, Coleman got the use of a 
 little less than thirteen thousand dollars for 
 six months, at a cost of over two thousand 
 dollars ; and the relief obtained thereby was 
 only temporary. In less than two months he 
 was as hard run as ever. The thirteen thou- 
 sand dollars saved him from failure ; but whe- 
 ther obtaining it as he did was not a greater 
 evil than would have been a failure at the time, 
 remains to be seen. 
 
 The sum obtained by means of Everton'a 
 notes enabled him to pay off a good deal of 
 borrowed money. When everything became 
 tight with him once more, ho had to go bacb
 
 24 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 to the old sources of temporary accommoda- 
 tion, and borrow again from day to day to meet 
 the daily wants. 
 
 Thus he dragged along, until the six months 
 were nearly ended, his heart more and more 
 oppressed with fear as the due days of the 
 notes given to Everton drew nearer and nearer. 
 He saw no prospect of taking up these notes, 
 yet everything depended upon its being done. 
 
 During all this time, by forced efforts he 
 maintained among business men, an exterior 
 of the most perfect composure. He made 
 purchases of heavy amounts of goods with the 
 air of a man who was giving instead of re- 
 ceiving a favor ; and spoke with a confident and 
 cheerful air of his business prospects. But at 
 home, alas ! how was all changed. He sat in 
 his family, a silent, oppressed, and abstracted 
 man ; and often left his bed at midnight to 
 walk the floor of his chamber, searching in his 
 own troubled thoughts for some means of ward- 
 ing off the danger that was approaching, dark 
 and swift-winged as a storm-cloud. 
 
 From every available source, Coleman now 
 borrowed money. One of his clerks had saved 
 a thousand dollars. He obtained the loan of 
 that. His wife's sister had a couple of thou- 
 sand dollars invested in the stock of an insur-
 
 THE CRISIS. 25 
 
 nce company that paid excellent dividends. 
 It was her all. At his solicitation she sold her 
 stock, and gave him the use of the proceeds, 
 he agreeing to pay her ten per cent, per annum 
 In this way, from persons who had sums of 
 money lying by them, nor which they had no 
 immediate demand, Mr, Coleman got the use 
 of over ten thousand dollars, which was like 
 so much capital placed in his business. But 
 all would not do. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE CRISIS. 
 
 BUT a single month was to intervene before 
 the notes given to Everton would fall due ; but, 
 there was, yet, no provision for them, and if 
 not taken up, all was lost. Poor Coleman was 
 almost beside himself with anxiety and alarm 
 Bitterly did he regret ever having so badly put 
 in jeopardy the interests of others as he 
 had done in giving a judgment upon his stock. 
 He blamed himself for the act ; not in view of 
 its destroying his business and thus destroying 
 3
 
 26 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 all his hopes in life, but in view of the losses 
 others would sustain. In the anguish of hia 
 mind, he forgot himself and his family, and 
 looked only to others who were to be sufferers 
 at his hands. 
 
 " But I cannot let all go without a struggle !' ? 
 he said, arousing himself up from a state of ab- 
 ject despondency into which he had fallen one 
 night after the sustaining excitements of the 
 day were over. " I must notletallgo without a 
 struggle ! Everton will sweep my entire stock 
 if his notes lie over, and sacrifice at least fifty 
 thousand dollars worth of goods to get his fif- 
 teen thousand. Why was I ever so mad as 
 to put myself thus in his power ? I had no right 
 to do it, and yet I thought it was for the best. 
 I believed that with the sum to be raised through 
 him, I could go on smoothly and safely. But, 
 how bitterly have I been disappointed. It is 
 now plain that I ought to have closed up my 
 business two or three years ago, instead of strug- 
 gling on in contention with every disadvantage, 
 and getting deeper and deeper into difficulties 
 all the time." 
 
 " Yes, something must be done !" he re- 
 eumed, after a pause. " This sacrifice cannot 
 oe made " 
 
 The mind of Coleman, exsited to a consido-
 
 THE CRISIS. 27 
 
 ration of the ways and means of overcoming 
 the difficulties of his position, dwelt earnestly 
 upon the subject for nearly the whole night. 
 The conclusion to which he arrived was, that 
 failure at an" early day, had become inevitable, 
 but that, in order to save his stock from being 
 swept off and sold at one third of its value to 
 satisfy the judgment that hung over it, some 
 extraordinary financiering efforts would have to 
 be made, and his mind had a dim foreshadow- 
 ing of what they would be. 
 
 One suggestion that had obtruded itself dur- 
 ing this night of anxious solicitude and enquiry, 
 was to call a meeting of creditors, state the dif- 
 ficulty he was in and confess judgment to all, 
 so as to place all on an equal footing with 
 Everton. But this was rejected, for it in- 
 volved so direct a violation of good faith with 
 a creditor, that his sense of honor would not 
 permit him to do it. He next thought of re- 
 moving at least half of his stock of goods, be- 
 fore the judgment could take hold of them. 
 But he felt, in regard to that, as he did in the 
 matter of the first suggestion, and turned away 
 from it. 
 
 The final conclusion upon which he settled 
 down, after pondering the subject for two days, 
 was thus : to raise the money necessary to meet
 
 28 DEBTOR AND CREDITCR. 
 
 the notes given to Everton, by purchasing sta 
 pie and fashionable goods from the various 
 houses with which he dealt, and sending them 
 for immediate sale, to auction and commission 
 merchants in two or three of the -neighboring 
 cities. The loss, he reasoned, would not bo 
 a great deal, and the proceeds would enable 
 him to pay off Everton and thus cancel tho 
 judgment. 
 
 Whether, viewed in the abstract, the morali- 
 ty of this course was any better than the mo- 
 rality of those he had rejected, the reader must 
 decide for himself. When a man gets involved 
 in difficulty through a wrong step, the steps 
 he takes to get out of that difficulty are too 
 often along the same path by which he got 
 into it. 
 
 Immediately upon deciding upon what he 
 would do Coleman set about the doing of it. 
 He purchased from the various houses with 
 which he dealt, packages of goods that he did 
 not want for his own sales, and had them deli- 
 vered at his store. These were sent off to other 
 cities with directions to have them sold imme- 
 diately and the cash, in good negotiable paper, 
 obtained thereon. 
 
 Among those of whom Coleman purchased 
 freely for these operations, was a merchant
 
 THE CRISIS. 29 
 
 named Erastus Turner. He was known in bu- 
 '..I^ess circles is a hard man towards the unfor- 
 tunate, and generally disposed to attribute 
 fraud in all cases of failure. It so happened that 
 this man had business in Baltimore with a com- 
 mission house to which Coleman had consigned 
 ten packages of goods bought at his store, and 
 it so happened that he saw these goods there, 
 knew them, and instantly suspected that some- 
 thing was wrong. 
 
 " Some of Coleman's goods," he said, in an 
 indifferent way, laying his hand with affected 
 carelessness upon a package near which he stood. 
 
 " Yes," replied the commission merchant, 
 almost as indifferently. 
 
 " They are fine goods," said Turner. 
 
 " I believe they are." 
 
 " For auction sales, I suppose r" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Money is a little tight with us just now. 
 I suppose Coleman finds it necessary to force 
 off some of his stock. It is better to do this, 1 
 think, than to pay an exorbitant interest on 
 money." 
 
 " So do I." 
 
 " Do you realize the cash for him ?" 
 
 " Yes. He must have cash, on good en- 
 dorsed paper." 
 
 3*
 
 SO DELTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 Turner tlid not like the appearance of all this. 
 At another commission store he saw more 
 goods that Colcnian had bought of him, and, 
 on enquiring the price which had been obtained 
 for similar goods found them ten per cent, 
 lower than the rates at which he had sold. 
 
 By the next train of cars he returned home, 
 and on his arrival, called immediately upon 
 Coleman. He introduced the subject upon 
 which he desired information, in this abrupt 
 manner. 
 
 "I saw the goods you bought from me last 
 week, at a commission store in Baltimore to 
 which you had sent them for sale at auction. 
 What is the meaning of this, Mr. Coleman ?" 
 
 Words so unexpected, found Coleman un- 
 prepared to hear them. He turned pale, looked 
 dreadfully alarmed, and stammered out some 
 incoherent reply. 
 
 " This looks like fraud, sir !" said Turner, 
 with a severe aspect and tone. 
 
 A bright flash burned in the cheek of Cole- 
 man at the word fraud ; but he commanded 
 himself by a great effort, and replied, with some 
 firmness and composure. 
 
 " When I fail to pay my bills, sir, it will be 
 time enough for you to talk of fraud." 
 
 " How do you expect to pay the bills, if you
 
 THE CRISIS. 31 
 
 force ray goods off for cash at from, ten to twen 
 ty-five per cent, below cost prices." 
 
 " I don't do it," 
 
 " But, I have certain information that yoti 
 have done it." 
 
 " You have !" 
 
 " Certainly I have. My goods are in the 
 hands of more than one Baltimore house, and I 
 have learned the prices at which tKey have been 
 sold. So, it is useless to attempt any disguise 
 with me." 
 
 Coleman stood confounded for some moments. 
 He then said 
 
 " I know, Mr. Turner, that, to you, this 
 matter must look very bad. But I can assure 
 you, that, nothing could be farther from my 
 thoughts than to wrong any one. An unusual 
 demand for money has caused me to adopt an 
 unusual expedient for supplying it." 
 
 "Bad? Look bad? Yes, it looks very bad, 
 Mr. Coleman !" replied Turner. " Very bad 
 indeed ! Buy large quantities of goods on time, 
 and send them off to other cities to be sold at 
 auction ! Who ever heard of such a thing?" 
 
 " And yet, sir, it has been done with no pur- 
 pose of fraud. This, let me again assure you," 
 eaid Coleman, looking anxious and alarmed. 
 
 " That may all be so, sir. But it look*
 
 82 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 bad very bad ; and calls for investiga- 
 tion." 
 
 " Oh sir," said the debtor in a voice of en- 
 treaty, " don't think for an instant of divulging 
 what has come to your knowledge. It would in- 
 stantly destroy my credit, and involve me in 
 certain ruin. Keep your own secret, and it 
 will be better for you and all concerned." 
 
 Turner thought for some time. 
 
 " I will keep my own secret,'' he at length 
 said, " but only on one condition." 
 
 " What is it ?" asked Coleman. 
 
 " Lay before me a statement of your affairs 
 minute in every particular. If, upon a care- 
 ful examination, I see that it is best for you to 
 go on, I will not betray what has come to 
 iny knowledge." 
 
 After reflecting upon this, hurriedly, for some 
 moments, Coleman replied. 
 
 " Give me some hours to think." 
 
 Turner bowed assent. 
 
 " Will you call here to-night, after my store 
 is closed ?" 
 
 " I will. Say eight o'clock." 
 
 " Very well. By that time I will be pre- 
 pared to give you satisfactory information 
 touching my own business, and your interests 
 as connected therewith."
 
 THE CRISIS. 33 
 
 " Oh, tliat I had possessed the courage long 
 ago to have called my creditors together !" 
 said Colenian, to himseli so soon as he was 
 alone. " How simple and easy to be compre- 
 hended, would all have been three years ago 
 how complicated and hard to be understood 
 now. How madly have I acted ! How plainly 
 will fraud be apparent to almost every eye ! 
 And yet, Heaven knows, I have not sought to 
 to wrong any one ; but only to save others, and 
 keep my own good name. Now both must suffer. 
 
 There was one man, in whose judgment Cole- 
 man had great confidence. He was a creditor and 
 a warm personal friend. His name was Hart- 
 well. After thinking for some hours over his 
 affairs, and getting more and more bewildered 
 in his own mind, Coleman at last came to the 
 wise conclusion to go to this man, and aftci 
 telling him all, seek his advice and follow it 
 
 When Hartwell heard his statement, he was 
 truly amazed. He had supposed his affairs to 
 be in the most prosperous condition. 
 
 " How could you have gone on so blindly !" 
 he said with some severity. 
 
 " Don't chide, but counsel me !" returned 
 the unhappy man in so distressed a voice, that 
 his friend's first surprise and displeasure gave 
 wav to a feeling of commiseration.
 
 34 DEBTOR AND CREDITOH. 
 
 " 1 am almost afraid that it is too late for 
 counsel to be of any avail. Your errors have 
 been of too serious a nature." 
 
 " Great losses, all around, I know must oc- 
 cur, in any event. But, even at this posture 
 of my affairs, there is a right way to take as 
 well as a wrong way. I have trusted in my 
 own judgment so long, and been led so far 
 astray by it, that I no longer dare confide in 
 its conclusions. Let your cooler perceptions 
 guide me." 
 
 " Had I not better be present at your inter- 
 view with Turner to-night. 
 
 u 8y all means." 
 
 * Make out some kind of a statement of your 
 affairs, in order that we may have something 
 definite before us. I will see that no precipi- 
 tate action is forced by Turner, if any good is 
 to come from temporary delay." 
 
 On that evening, Coleman, Turner and 
 Hartwell met. The statement which the 
 debtor made proved very unsatisfactory, and 
 showed his affairs to be in a most desperate 
 condition. 
 
 " And with these facts before your eyes," 
 eaid Turner, indignantly, after he understood 
 the exact state of Coleman's affairs, "you come 
 to my store and buy five or BIX thousand dol-
 
 THE CRISIS, 35 
 
 lars' worth of goods, ship them to Baltimore 
 and sell them for cash at a heavy loss ! D 
 you call that an honest transaction, and your- 
 self an honest creditor ?" 
 
 " But consider," interrupted Hartwell, " the 
 object in view." 
 
 " Object in view ! Is it honest to rob ono 
 man to pay another ?" 
 
 " That is calling the act by too hard a 
 name." 
 
 " No sir. It is the right name. It is rob- 
 bery, sir, and nothing else ; and ought to send a 
 man to the State's prison." 
 
 " Let me beg of you to look at this matter 
 more calmly," urged the friend of Coleman. 
 " Such language as you use never does any 
 good, and, in the present instance, is directly 
 unjust. Any one can easily see, that no fraud 
 was intended here." 
 
 " It's more than I can, then." 
 
 "I will not bear these imputations!" ex- 
 claimed Coleman, unable to hold in check his 
 enraged feelings. " They are false ! And I 
 will prove them so." 
 
 " Such proofs would be pleasant to see," re- 
 ported Turner with a sneering expression. 
 
 Maddened by such language, Coleman was 
 about replying in accordance with his feel-
 
 Sfi DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 tugs, when Hartwell restrained him, and, at tho 
 jatue time demanded of Turner a different ac- 
 tion in a matter where so much money was at 
 stake. It was some time before Turner could 
 be brought to act even decently ; his position 
 of creditor in a case where a man had acted 
 with great imprudence, seeming, in his mind, to 
 give him a carte-blanche for offering all man- 
 ner of indignity and insult. 
 
 The advice given to Hartwell was to the ef- 
 fect, that Coleman should immediately call a 
 full meeting of creditors, and place his affairs 
 in their hands for settlement, thus securing to 
 each a fair pro rata dividend upon his assets. 
 Coleman was not prepared for this. There was 
 a great deal of borrowed money that he wanted 
 to pay first, a dozen changes in the aspect of 
 his rJfairs that he wished to make before every- 
 thing went out of his hands. 
 
 " It is too late to think of that now," said 
 his friend, after Turner had left them. " You 
 cannot continue your business a single day 
 without some sacrifice of the interests of your 
 creditors. Every dollar that you raise is by a 
 forced and unnatural effort, and comes into 
 your hands seriously diminished in value. This 
 ruinous course has been pursued long enough 
 under the false vows which you have taken
 
 THE CRISIS. 37 
 
 Kow that you see more clearly, act up to your 
 truer perceptions. Remember, that, being 
 hopelessly insolvent, the property in your 
 hands is not your own, and that you have no 
 right to sacrifice one dollar of the money be- 
 longing to the whole, in order to make payment 
 to a few." 
 
 " But, if I stop, Everton will sweep the en- 
 tire stock in my store to satisfy the judgment 
 he holds, and thus injure my other creditors." 
 
 " If you stop before your notes to him are 
 due, ho will have to come in with the general 
 creditors." 
 
 " How so ? He has a judgment that will 
 take precedence of any that can be obtained." 
 
 " You can confess other judgments." 
 
 " No, 1 cannot." 
 
 " Why ?" 
 
 " It would be wrong." 
 
 " Wrong to put your other creditors on a 
 par with this one ?" 
 
 " It would be wrong to violate the pledge I 
 gave him, when he made me the loan, and no- 
 thing will tempt me to do it. I have acted 
 wrong, in many things, by a kind of blind im- 
 pulse. In groping about in the dark, I have 
 not been able to find the right way. But, be- 
 cause I erred and strayed from the true path
 
 3S DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 while in search of it, shall I now step aside 
 with my eyes open. No no. I cannot do 
 this. The act was done in good faith, and ] 
 will not violate that faith." 
 
 Hartwell pondered this rely for some time, 
 and was satisfied that it was dictated by a prin- 
 ciple of integrity in Coleman's mind. 
 
 " No matter," he said. " Perhaps you 
 ought not to do so ; though few of your credit- 
 ors will probably agree with you in this. But, 
 one thing is clear. You are insolvent beyond 
 the hope of recovery. That is plain." 
 
 " Alas ! Too plain." 
 
 " And, therefore, all the property in your 
 hands belongs to your creditors ?" 
 
 ; ' Undoubtedly." 
 
 " And should come under their control. Is 
 not that also clear ?'' 
 
 " I suppose it is." 
 
 " Then, it seems to me, that you cannot 
 hesitate a moment about the course you ought 
 to take . There is but one plain way before you. ' ' 
 
 " What is that ?" 
 
 " At once resign all your effects into the 
 hands of your creditors, and leave with them 
 the responsibility of sacrifice, if any more is to 
 be made. This is simple justice, and your 
 mind cannot help seeing that it is so."
 
 THE CRISIS. 39 
 
 " No doubt you are right," said Coleman, 
 speaking in a tone of despondency. 
 
 The thought of letting all go, without au- 
 other struggle, hopeless as he knew such a 
 struggle would be, made him feel sad. There 
 were, besides, certain persons for whom he 
 wished to provide, before he let everything go 
 out of his hands. His clerk, his sister-in-law, 
 and a dozen others to whom borrowed money 
 was owed, and who were as little able to lose 
 it -as they were, he wished to see paid off be- 
 fore any arrangement took place. But the 
 discovery made by Turner had produced a 
 crisis, and he had so exhausted his resources, 
 that he could not raise five hundred dollars 
 without borrowing it from some one. And to 
 borrow frem one to pay over to another, upon 
 the eve of a suspension, and with a view there 
 to, had in it so much the appearance of wrong, 
 that he could not get his own consent to do so 
 His friend understood clearly his position, and 
 really sympathized with him ; but, nevertheless, 
 earnestly advised him not to take the responsi- 
 bility of another step, for, let him do as he 
 would, if he attempted to hold on even a day 
 longer, he would only make bad worse. 
 
 " If I make an assignment, I will stipulate 
 that my borrowed money is to be paid in full.
 
 40 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 Will you second my wishes in this r" said 
 Coleman. 
 
 " I will, certainly, so far as the ordinary 
 temporary loans which take place between men 
 in business are concerned. But, money bor- 
 rowed at interest is a different affair ; it cornea 
 in the class of regular business transactions, 
 and must go with them " 
 
 " But here are a thousand dollars duo my 
 clerk. That, surely, ought to be paid." 
 
 " Was it borrowed on interest ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " At what interest ?" 
 
 " Ten per cent." 
 
 " He has then, no claim for a preference 
 over any other creditor. The loan was not a 
 mere temporary accommodation, for which no 
 benefit was received, but comes under the head 
 of a regular business transaction, and must take 
 its chances with the rest." 
 
 " The same, then, will hold good in regard 
 to the little all of my wife's sister?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " It is hard." Coleman was greatly dis- 
 turbed. 
 
 " It is hard, certainly," replied Mr. Hart- 
 well. " But there is only one right way, and 
 we should all endeavor to walk steadily therein.
 
 THE CRISIS. 41 
 
 and leave the consequences to Providence 
 You did not mean to wrong these people. " 
 
 " Heaven is my witness that I did not." 
 
 " And I am sure they will exonerate you 
 from all such intention." 
 
 " But that is not the thing, Mr. Hartwell. 
 It is the fact that they are wronged that they 
 actually suffer the loss. I am not in a state 
 of mind to care much about the imputation of 
 motives, when I see the actual suffering pro- 
 duced by my hand. It will be none the less, 
 whether I designed to inflict it or not." 
 
 " True. But you cannot help it now. 
 You will suffer pain ; that is unavoidable ; and 
 they will suffer pain. The only thing left for 
 you, at this extreme crisis in your affairs is, in 
 taking the few last steps left you, to be sure 
 that you take them right. More cannot be 
 asked." 
 
 Before parting that night, it was settled that 
 Coleman should suspend on the next day, and 
 call a meeting of his creditors
 
 42 DEBTOR ANI> CREDITOR. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE FAILURE. 
 
 THE family of Mr. Coleman consisted of Lis 
 wife and five children. Maria, his eldest child 
 was in her twentieth year. Henry was seven- 
 teen ; and the others were quite young. 
 
 Mr. Coleman was domestic in his feelings 
 and habits, and very much attached to his fami- 
 ly. Of his daughter Maria, who was a lovely 
 girl, he was exceedingly fond ; and proud of 
 her besides. Her education had been most 
 carefully conducted ; and her mind being rather 
 above the common order, she was, even at the 
 early age of twenty, a woman of fine attain- 
 ments, and promised to become a brilliant 
 ornament in the higher and more intellectual 
 circles. As we said, her /father was proud of 
 her and well he might be. 
 
 Henry Coleman was at Yale College, whero 
 he had been for a little over six months, having 
 entered upon a four years' course of studies. 
 He was a young man of the first abilities, and 
 his father, looking to his adoption of one of tho 
 learned professions, was educating him with
 
 THE FAILURE. 43 
 
 that end in view. The three younger children 
 were all at school. 
 
 This was the aspect of Mr. Coleman's do- 
 mestic affairs when he found himself involved 
 in difficulties from which there was no extrica- 
 tion. On parting with his friend Hartwelli 
 after the long conference they had held upon 
 the state of his business, he turned his steps 
 and his thoughts homeward. 
 
 In the great anxiety he had felt to maintain 
 his credit and carry through his business, Mr. 
 Coleman's thoughts did not often refer to the 
 changes that must take place at home, in case 
 all efforts to sustain himself should prove un- 
 availing. But, now, the struggle was over, hia 
 last effort had been made hope was at an end 
 on the next day he would give up all into the 
 hands of his creditors, and, with a blasted mer- 
 cantile reputation, be cast adrift upon the 
 world. It is by no means surprising that his 
 thoughts turned anxiously towards his house- 
 hold treasures, the moment his steps turned 
 homeward ; now, that, for a time, everything 
 else, but the consequence about to visit them, 
 was forgotten. They must go out from their 
 pleasant home, and seek another in which were 
 fewer comforts ; they must go down from the 
 circle of refinement and intelligence, so conge-
 
 44 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 nial to their taste and feelings, and take a lower 
 place. Maria could live no longer where she 
 had shone, young as she was, with so much 
 brilliancy ; and Henry must come home from 
 College, and be thrust out into the world, at his 
 early age, all the best hopes of his father, in 
 reference to him, utterly destroyed. 
 
 It is no matter of wonder that when Mr. 
 Colcman entered the room where his wife and 
 daughter were sitting, that both should start in 
 surprise at seeing the expression of his face, so 
 changed from what it was when he went out. 
 
 "Are you sick?" anxiously inquired Mrs. 
 Coleman. 
 
 " I don't feel very well," he replied. 
 
 " What is the cause of your indisposition ? 
 How do you feel ?" 
 
 These were questions that Mr. Coleman 
 could not answer very satisfactorily, and he 
 therefore evaded them until he was alone with 
 his wife, when, to her more pressing inquiries, 
 he said 
 
 " It will do no good to conceal from you the 
 painful truth, Anna, that all my efforts, for so 
 many years, have been in vain. At this time 
 of life, I hoped to be in the enjoyment of a 
 handsome competency. But, instead, I find 
 myself worse off than when I began. To-mor-
 
 THE FAILURE. 45 
 
 row I will be compelled to suspend payment, 
 call a meeting of creditors, and resign into the 
 hands of those to whom I am indebted, all I pos- 
 sess. If that all would pay off everything I owe, 
 J might not feel so dreadfully broken down in 
 spirits as I now do. But it will not." 
 
 The pale face and tremulous lips of her hus- 
 band alarmed Mrs. Coleman even more than 
 his words. She did not understand, as fully 
 as he did, the meaning of all he had said ; nor 
 were the consequences that must inevitably fol- 
 low arrayed before her mind as they stood ar- 
 rayed before his. Seeing him so utterly cast 
 down, she felt a wife's instinctive desire to 
 speak comforting and sustaining words, and 
 she therefore said, although in an unsteady and 
 choking voice 
 
 " Let us try to bear misfortune with patience 
 Prosperity has not elated us ; and we should 
 not be unduly cast down by adversity." 
 
 " Anna !" said Mr. Coleman speaking witl 
 emphasis. " If only you and T were to feel 
 the consequences, we might shrink close to- 
 gether and bear the reverse in patience and 
 hope. But this cannot be. Our children will 
 feel the change most. Maria will be cast down 
 from her present place in a wide circle of 
 friends ; Henry will have to come home from
 
 46 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 College, and go into the world and sustain him- 
 self; and all will have to become familiar with 
 things more common and uncongenial to their 
 tastes and habits. A home like this, we cannot 
 have. When my business passes from my 
 hands, I will have no present means of earning 
 a dollar. To resume business will be impossi- 
 ble ; for having neither credit nor capital left, 
 I cannot again enter into trade ; and must be 
 content with any kind of employment that 
 offers. It costs us now, to live, three thousand 
 dollars a year. 1 will be fortunate, indeed, if 
 I am able to get an income of one thousand 
 dollars. You see, how great a change we are 
 about to suffer." 
 
 This was presenting to the mind of Mrs. 
 Coleman, the painful extremity of their situa- 
 tion in a manner the most distinctly apprecia- 
 ble. 
 
 " Is it so bad as that ?" she said in a low 
 quivering voice, while tears came piercing into 
 her eyes. 
 
 " It is, Anna. I must not conceal from you 
 the truth. But, in revealing it, I trust in your 
 womanly spirit to bear with and sustain me in 
 the severe trials I have yet to pass through 
 trials that I look at, and shrink from encoun- 
 tering, with a paralyzing fear. I am sure, that
 
 THE FAILURE. 47 
 
 I could view the approach of death far raoro 
 calmly than I can the hour in which I am to 
 meet the creditors who will think themselves 
 wronged, it may be cheated, by a man in whose 
 integrity they had fully confided. Oh ! It is a 
 terrible ordeal for a man to pass through." 
 
 " But will not a consciousness of integrity 
 sustain you iu the trial r" said Mrs. Coleman, 
 endeavoring to jress down into quietude her 
 own fluttering heart. 
 
 " That is all that can sustain me. But even 
 with the consciousness that I meant to do right 
 to give strength to my shrinking spirit, it will 
 be as much as I can do to bear up under the 
 pressure that will be upon me. There are so 
 many things in my business that are open to 
 wrong construction ; and so much is owed to 
 those who cannot bear the loss without suffering. 
 There are the two thousand dollars owed to 
 your sister, for instance. The stoppage in my 
 business is so sudden and unexpected, that I 
 am unable to make any provision for her, and 
 she will have to come in with the other credi- 
 tors, and lose, perhaps, one half of what is duo 
 to her, it may be more." 
 
 " Oh ! I am sorry for that. It is all Matil- 
 da has in the world," said Mrs. Coleman with 
 a troubled look
 
 48 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 *' If I had supposed that a failure was so iiear 
 at hand, I would have managed, in some way 
 to pay off this claim, and several others simi- 
 larly situated. But, now it is too late." 
 
 "Poor Matilda!" For a short time Mrs 
 Coleman felt more deeply for her sister in the 
 loss she must sustain, than she did for herself 
 and family, in view of the great reverse that 
 was ahout to be visited upon them. 
 
 " And can nothing be done for her r" she 
 asked. 
 
 " Nothing, Anna ! Nothing. To-morruw 
 everything must go into the hands of my credi- 
 tors, and they will permit no preferences to be 
 made, except in a few cases of borrowed 
 money " 
 
 " This is borrowed money !" 
 
 " 1 know. But, it is borrowed on interest, 
 and is, therefore, considered in the light of any 
 other business transaction." 
 
 " Why must to-morrow take from your hands 
 all control over your affairs ?" 
 
 " For this reason. In view of heavy pay- 
 ments, and seeing no other means of meeting 
 them, I sent on to Baltimore, and also to other 
 places, goods which I had purchased at six 
 months' credit, and ordered them sold at 
 auction for c^ a h, or fcr what would be equiva-
 
 THE FAILURE 49 
 
 lent to cash. This was the oUy expedient I 
 could devise to meet a pressing demand for 
 money. Unfortunately, it happened that Eras- 
 tus Turner, of whom I had purchased freely, 
 discovered this, and charged it upon me as an 
 act that looked so much like fraud that he could 
 call it by no other name." 
 
 " Fraud ! Fraud in you ! Did he dare to 
 insinuate that ?" 
 
 " He did, and to my face." 
 
 " Oh Lewis ! can it be possible !" 
 
 " It is too true, Anna. And, to a suspicious 
 minded man, the act might readily bear that 
 appearance. Under this aspect of things, I 
 called in Mr. Hartwell for consultation, my 
 own mind being too bewildered to think proper- 
 ly. After giving him as clear a statement of 
 my affairs as was possible, under the circum- 
 stances, he satisfied me in a few words, that I 
 could take but one light step, and that was to 
 give up immediately." 
 
 Before Mrs. Coleman could make any re- 
 mark in reply, a servant tapped at the door. 
 
 " What is wanted?" asked Mrs. Coleman. 
 
 " There is a gentleman in the parlor who 
 wishes to see Mr. Coleman." 
 
 " A gentleman at this tune of night ! Who 
 is it ; 
 
 5
 
 50 DEBTOR A> CREDITOR. 
 
 " His name is Mr. Turner." 
 
 "Turner!" said Mr. Coleman, speaking 
 m a tone of surprise, and rising as he spoke. 
 " Very well. Tell him I will be down in a 
 moment.' 1 
 
 " What can he want ?" enquired Mrs 
 Coleman. 
 
 " To insult me again, perhaps ; or to pro- 
 pose something by which he may be secured to 
 the injury of others." 
 
 " Agree to no proposition of the kind, 
 Lewis." 
 
 " I certainly shall not. Let my past errors 
 Buffice." 
 
 And saying tin's, Mr. Coleman left the room 
 and descended to the parlor, where he found 
 Turner. It was nearly eleven o'clock at night. 
 There was a jrreat change in the creditor. He 
 met Coleman with a kindness of manner 
 strongly contrasting with the harsh and accus- 
 ing spirit displayed but a little while be- 
 fore. 
 
 " Pardon this untimely visit," he said, as he 
 extended his hand, and took that of his debtor, 
 " but many things have passed through my mind 
 since I saw you a few hours ago, and it may bo 
 better to say them to you to-night. From 
 what both you ami Harwell said, T understand
 
 THE FAILURE. 51 
 
 that you think of calling a meeting of creditors 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Yes ; that is my present design. 1 ' 
 
 " But, will not such a course be precipitate, 
 and throw your business entirely beyond your 
 control before you have any chance to make 
 at least a few changes in its present aspect ? 
 There are certain minor interests which every 
 man wishes to protect before letting his affairs 
 go out of his hands. Little matters of private 
 loans, made in good faith ; and various other 
 things needless to mention because perfectly 
 understood. It is so with you, of course, for 
 it is so with every one." 
 
 Coleman heard this with some surprise, be- 
 cause it was so unexpected from such a quar- 
 ter. 
 
 " It is, doubtless, as I say," added Turner, 
 with a smile meant to encourage his debtor to 
 epeak freely. 
 
 " It is, certainly," replied Coleman. " But 
 I suppose it is too late now to think of that." 
 
 " You may err in this conclusion ; it is 
 never too late to do anything, if the proper 
 means be used." 
 
 " I'm afraid no proper means are available, 
 ij case." 
 Yo-a are mistaken, I have the means in
 
 52 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 my hands of closing up your business almost 
 immediately; but, if I do not use those 
 means, you need not fail for some time to corno 
 not until you are better prepared to meet the 
 disaster than you are at present. No one, but 
 myself and your friend Hartwell, knows that you 
 have been forcing off goods, at a loss for cash, 
 and no one need know it." 
 
 Coleman's mind, in spite of his clearer judg- 
 ment, caught at these words ; and he was in- 
 spired with the hope of still moving on in the 
 old way a little longer, and getting into a lit- 
 tle better position. 
 
 " If you wish to continue your business un- 
 til you make the few arrangements which every 
 man naturally desires to make, it may yet be 
 done." 
 
 " How r" asked Coleman. " Or, rather, 
 under what provisions r" 
 
 " Of course," said Turner, blandly, " I have 
 not sought this interview without some refer- 
 ence to my own interest. Everyman looks to 
 that. You owe me over six thousand dollars, 
 and 1 do not wish to lose so large a sum." 
 
 " What do you propose ?" inquired Cole- 
 man. 
 
 " That you give me, in the first place, an 
 order on your consignees in Baltimore for all
 
 THE FAILURE. 53 
 
 goods of mine in their hands, or, for the proceeds, 
 if sold ; which will reduce iny account nearly 
 fifteen hundred dollars. And that you trans- 
 fer to me, in the second place, good business 
 notes to an equal amount. You can do this 
 and go on, 1 suppose, for a few weeks, perhaps 
 a few months longer, and thus be enabled to 
 get all your affairs arranged more to your lik- 
 ing than they are at present." 
 
 " By which time," said Coleman, " nearly 
 two thousand dollars due you on maturing 
 notes, will be paid." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And my present indebtedness of six thou- 
 sand dollars be reduced to about one thou- 
 sand ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Or, in other words, you would be paid 
 nearly cent, per cent, of your claim against me, 
 to the serious detriment of all my other credit- 
 ors. Mr. Turner ! I have been drawn aside 
 into many imprudences in my business ; I have 
 done wrong in more than one instance, but, 
 sir ! before I would be guilty of the act you 
 tempt me to do, I would hold my arm in that 
 lamp until the flesh dropped from the bone ! I 
 may, in the bewilderment consequent upon an 
 embarrassed business, have done worse things
 
 54 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 than this, but they wore not done with my 
 eyes open as they now are. No sir ; I cannot 
 do as you propose." 
 
 " I will waive the fifteen hundred dollars in 
 notes, if you do not like to do that," said Tur- 
 ner, his manner changing but slightly. 
 
 " It is impossible. You must now come in 
 with the rest." 
 
 " Are you resolute in this ?" inquired Tur- 
 ner, the smile fading from his countenance, and 
 both voice and eye expressing a threat. 
 
 " Entirely so." 
 
 " Take my advice sir, and reconsider what 
 you say. Remember, that you are completely 
 in my power. That I am aware of certain of 
 your transactions, unknown to all but your 
 friend Hartwell, which have a very dark as- 
 pect, and may make it go hard with you. If 
 you are wise, you will give me a sufficient rea- 
 son to be silent whenever you come before 
 your creditors insolvent." 
 
 There was no misunderstanding this threat. 
 Coleman felt the force of it; and he was 
 strongly tempted to purchase silence upon that 
 last indiscreet transaction to call it by no 
 worse name. 
 
 11 Think well, before you reject this over- 
 ture," said Turner. " Take time to reflect bo-
 
 THE FULURE. 55 
 
 fore you utter a final * no,' for if you do refuse 
 to meet my wishes, by all that is sacred ! 1 
 will push you to the utmost extremity. In 
 the eyes of the law, remember, this act of 
 yours maybe made to appear as a crime. And 
 such it really is. While you have a chance of 
 escape, be wise and improve it." 
 
 The firm bearing of Coleman was at an end. 
 He was again under the influence of doubt and 
 irresolution. 
 
 " Why do you tempt me thus r" he said, 
 with a troubled look. " As a man, why will 
 you not have some regard for a fellow man in 
 great extremity ? You ask me to do wrong ?" 
 
 " I ask no such thing. Is it wrong to pay 
 me what you owe me ?" 
 
 " Yes, if in doing so, I give you an undue 
 proportion of an insolvent estate." 
 
 " While you meet all your payments, you 
 have a right to manage your business as you 
 please." 
 
 " Then I had a right to send the goods 1 
 bought of you to auction ; and you have no 
 right to complain." 
 
 " I beg your pardon ; but that is another 
 thing. I deny your right to do that. It was 
 not honest." 
 
 " Neither is your proposition an honest one.
 
 56 DEBTOR AMD CREDITOR. 
 
 or, rather, I should say, it is far less honest than 
 that act of mine ; for it comes from a cool and 
 deliberate purpose to get more than you are 
 justly entitled to out of my estate, while that 
 was the result of an error in judgment." 
 
 " Take ca^e what you say, Mr. Coleman. I 
 am not used to being talked to in that way." 
 
 " Nor am I used to having such language 
 applied to my acts as you have applied." 
 
 " Well sir !" said Turner, rising up sud- 
 denly, and commencing to button up his coat. 
 " You must do as you please. I have given 
 you a chance to save yourself from the conse- 
 quences of your own acts, if you do not think 
 proper to avail of the opportunity, you will 
 have only yourself to blame. Depend upon it, 
 if I come into your meeting of creditors, you 
 will not get much quarter." 
 
 " See here," returned Coleman to this, and 
 speaking more resolutely than he had done ; 
 " bear in mind this fact, that even an honor- 
 able minded man may be forced into retaliation 
 in order to secure a just protection. I warn 
 you now, that if you attempt anything like per- 
 secution, I will expose this interview, and show 
 how you tried, under threats, to extort money 
 from me to the injury of the rest. Remember, 
 that if 1 am in your power, you are also in mine. >r
 
 THE FAILURE. 57 
 
 This unexpected retort half maddened the 
 bad-spirited creditor, and he replied with added 
 and more bitter threats of consequences. But 
 Coleman saw clearly the one right path before 
 him, and was not now to be turned from it by 
 either threats or persuasions. 
 
 " Then I am to understand," said Turner, 
 pausing in the door, as he made a movement 
 to go, " that you will not accede to my propo- 
 sition." 
 
 " Certainly you are," was the firm reply. 
 
 " On your own head rest the consequences," 
 said Turner from between his clenched teeth. 
 
 " I will try to bear them," answered Cole- 
 man, as he bowed with a formal air. 
 
 Turner lingered for an instant and then left 
 the house, muttering a threat as he did so. 
 
 Mrs. Coleman had waited, with anxious in- 
 terest, the termination of this interview. As 
 soon as her husband returned to the room in 
 which he had left her, she inquired eagerly as 
 to the cause of the visit. Coleman explained 
 the proposition of Turner. 
 
 " And you rejected it," said his wife prompt- 
 ly and indignantly. 
 
 " I did. And for this, he threatens me with 
 his severest displeasure." 
 
 " Let him do his worst. He cannot hurt
 
 68 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 you half so much as it would hurt you to do M 
 he proposed." 
 
 " No, not half so much." 
 
 " I have been thinking, since you were 
 away," said Mrs. Coleman, " about sister. 
 That troubles me, and I cannot help letting it 
 do so." 
 
 " And it troubles me, too ; but I see no 
 help. She will have to take whatever my as- 
 sets divide." 
 
 " There is a way by which she might be 
 paid." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " We will have td live in a style very dif- 
 ferent from what we at present maintain." 
 
 " Very different." 
 
 " We have plate, jewelry, and many things 
 in the house that will have to be dispensed with. 
 Let us sell these at once and pay Matilda her 
 claim." 
 
 For a moment or two there was a light on 
 the countenance of Mr. Coleman. But it 
 quickly faded, and he replied in a sad voice 
 
 " We can't do it, Anna, and do right." 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 The furniture and plate in my house, as well 
 as the goods in my store, alike belong to my 
 creditors. It would be as unjust to sell the one
 
 THE FAILURE. 59 
 
 &8 the other for special application in. the pre- 
 sent crisis of my affairs." 
 
 Mrs. Coleman's head drooped, and her eyea 
 rested upon the floor for some time. Thea, 
 with a deeply drawn sigh, she remarked 
 
 " I suppose you are right." 
 
 Both were now oppressed and silent foi 
 many minutes, when Mrs. Coleman said 
 
 " I have been calculating the worth of my 
 own jewelry, and the various articles I have 
 received from you and others as presents. 1 
 make it out to be about a thousand dollars, ai 
 a low valuation. Will you object to having 
 these sold, and the money they bring paid ovel 
 to Matilda ?" 
 
 Mr. Coleman thought for a good while be- 
 fore replying. Theft he asked the question 
 
 " Have we separate interests ?" 
 
 " No," was replied. " And yet, there are 
 some things recognised as distinctively mine, 
 and some things as distinctively yours, such aa 
 our clothes, and personal ornaments. Over 
 these, we have a certain right of disposal indo- 
 pendent, so to speak, of each other." 
 
 " Does the law discriminate in these in- 
 stances ?" 
 
 " No but does not common sense and com- 
 mon perception ?"
 
 60 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 " Not clearly to my mind, in viow of what 
 you propose. All we possess, is possessed 
 jointly, and debts contracted by either you or 
 me conie against this joint possession, be it what 
 it may ; and I do not see how you can make a 
 special disposition of your jewelry and other 
 things distinctively your own, any more than I 
 can of my gold watch and diamond breastpin. 
 All these are liable to seizure by my creditors, 
 and, therefore, I cannot perceive that wo have 
 any right to put them beyond their reach, 
 when we know that we are not in a condition 
 to pay the full amount of claims against us." 
 
 " Perhaps you are right," said Mrs. Cole- 
 man, again sighing deeply. " But it seems to 
 be coming exceedingly close." 
 
 " When a man is in debt beyond his ability 
 to pay, he no longer possesses, of right, a free 
 control over what he calls his own. He may 
 convey it away, or make any disposition of it 
 he pleases, but whether, in doing so he acts 
 justly or unjustly, is a question he must set- 
 tle with his own conscience. Now that I 
 am able to see clearly which has not be- 
 fore been the case for a long time I want 
 to act upon the strictest principles of equity, 
 and I want you, Anna, to see and act with 
 ine, if possible. Of course, we will neve/
 
 THE FAILURE. 61 
 
 t Matilda want while we have a loaf to divide 
 arith her. It may be, that my creditors will 
 not sweep away everything. Some, more con- 
 siderate than the rest, may induce the others 
 to go with them in sparing our household goods. 
 Should this be the case, we will be able to do 
 what you have proposed. If not, let me hope that 
 you will meet with a firm spirit the utmost extre- 
 mity to which we may be driven. It will make 
 the reverse easier to be borne by all of us." 
 
 "I will try," said Mrs. Coleman, sadly; 
 her voice and manner showing how severe, even 
 to contemplate, the trial was. 
 
 Nearly the whole of that night was spent by 
 Mr. Coleman in preparing statements to be 
 submitted to his creditors on the next day, in 
 reviewing his affairs, and in determining how 
 he would act in the various supposable aspects 
 things were likely to assume during the investi- 
 gations into his business that were about to take 
 place. He resolved to keep nothing back in 
 the first statement made to the creditors ; thus 
 disarming Turner to a great extent, by avow- 
 ing the acts upon which he meant to base his 
 ill-tempered persecution. By making the full- 
 est acknowledgments of his errors, he saw that 
 he put it out of the power of evil disposed per- 
 se ns to charge them upon him as crimes. If 
 6
 
 62 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 Turner's opposition assumed a shape likely to 
 do him a serious injury, he deliberately made 
 up his mind to do as he had said he would ex- 
 pose the propositions made for a settlement of 
 bis claim as a bribe to silence. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE MEETING OF CREDITORS. 
 
 Two hours of deep -yet unrefreshing sluu- 
 ber was all the repose that blessed the mind 
 of Mr. Coleman. It had been little better with 
 his wife. Half of the night was spent in tears. 
 Her first thoughts were with her husband, and 
 her first impulses led her to seek to sustain him 
 under his severe trials. But as she lay upon 
 her pillow, thinking about the various conse- 
 quences that must inevitably follow this great 
 reverse of fortune, her heart failed her. From 
 many of the aspects presented, she turned away 
 with a fainting spirit. The effect upon the chil- 
 dren pained her most ; especially painful was the 
 thought }f Henry's coming home from College. 
 
 Day dawned drearily upon both ; and both
 
 MEETING OF CREDITORS. 63 
 
 arose with pale and haggard countenances. 
 Marion, when the family met at the breakfast 
 table, saw that her parents were seriously 
 troubled about something, and her own heart 
 sunk in her bosom. Deep silence prevailed at 
 the table, and none but the younger children 
 did more than taste food, and that only for ap- 
 pearance sake. 
 
 As soon as Mr. Coleman could retire from 
 the table without seeming to go too abruptly, 
 he arose and left the room, and in a little while 
 after went to his store. He found Turner 
 awaiting him with a modified proposition which 
 was, to give him an order for the goods in 
 Baltimore before mentioned. 
 
 " If you will do this," he said, I will pledge 
 myself not to breathe a word about a transac- 
 tion that, if known, must inevitably create an 
 impression exceedingly unfavorable." 
 
 " It is useless, Mr. Turner, for you to ap- 
 proach me on this subject," Coleman unhesi- 
 tatingly answered. " Could I feel justified in 
 doing what you wish, I would not hesitate a 
 moment ; but with my present views, that is 
 out of the question I owe my sister-in-law 
 two thousand dollars, borrowed money. It is 
 her all. The earnest desire of my wife to 
 have her secured before the final catastrophe
 
 64 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 which is about to fall upon my business, iCmes, 
 I have not felt myself able to meet. Ste will 
 have to come in and share with the rest. If I 
 would not step aside from the right way to pro- 
 tect her, I certainly shall not do it to protect 
 you." 
 
 " Coleman ! Let me again warn you not to 
 make me your enemy in this business, for if you 
 do you will repent it when repentance will be 
 of no avail." 
 
 " I am sorry, Mr. Turner, that you press 
 this matter upon me. Is it not enough that I 
 have stated the utter impossibility of my doing 
 as you propose." 
 
 " Well, sir, as you like. But you will re- 
 gret it." 
 
 li I may suffer from your acts, but shall never 
 regret having refused compliance with your 
 wishes." 
 
 " We will see." 
 
 And Turner went away in anger. 
 
 During the whole day Mr. Coleman was en- 
 gaged in completing statements of his affairs, 
 and in preparing notifications for his creditors 
 to meet at his store, at eight o'clock that night. 
 He had frequent interviews and long consulta- 
 tions ^Vfitia. his friend Hartwell, whose Bound 
 judgment he let influence him at almost every
 
 MEETING OF CREDITORS. 65 
 
 point of his proceedings. At three o'clock hia 
 notes were protested. He was not at his office 
 when the notary came. It was a weakness 
 that prevented his meeting him ; but he could 
 not help shrinking away from the presence 
 of one whose very name has sometimes power 
 to make the heart tremble. Under the influ- 
 ence of feelings which, once suffered, no man 
 ever desires to experience again, Coleman left 
 home that evening, with the keys of his store 
 in his pocket, and calling for Hartwell, went to 
 the appointed place of meeting. Oh ! how 
 deeply did he regret the many sacrifices he had 
 made in order to sustain himself. How vainly 
 did he mourn over his folly, in giving a judg- 
 ment upon his goods, and thus letting one man 
 have the power of securing himself at a great 
 loss to others. It seemed as if every false 
 Btep he had made for years was coming back 
 to reprove him. The sufferings and self-re- 
 proaches of a life-time appeared crowded into 
 that single hour ; and he shrunk from the ordeal 
 through which he was about to pass, as he would 
 have shrunk from encountering the surgeon's 
 knife in some terrible operation. 
 
 With what different feelings did the men he 
 had summoned come up to that meeting ! A 
 few felt sympathy for the unfortunate debtor, 
 6*
 
 66 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 though they had no true conception of what he 
 was suffering; but the majority came with 
 minds eagerly bent on saving what they could 
 from the wreck of a fellow-merchant's fortunes. 
 One man cursed the intractable debtor in his 
 heart, and came firmly resolved to show him 
 no quarter ; another was trembling in fear lest 
 he should lose a few thousands, although he 
 was the possessor of hundreds of thousands ; 
 another was satisfied that there must be some- 
 thing wrong fraud, in fact else it were not 
 possible for Coleman to fail ; and another coolly 
 awaited until he should hear a statement of the 
 debtor's affairs, in order to determine whether 
 it would be most for his interest to wind him 
 up or let him go on. There were but few who 
 even dreamed that the unhappy debtor was en- 
 titled to any consideration. 
 
 Punctual to the appointed hour nearly all 
 assembled. Hartwell moved that a certain 
 merchant present take the chair, which being 
 agreed to, the meeting was ready to go to busi- 
 ness. Mr. Coleman then gave a history of his 
 affairs for several years, and stated with great 
 minuteness every transaction of more recent 
 date, dwelling particularly upon the judgment 
 to Everton, and also upon the extraordinary 
 means te had adopted in the hope of lifting
 
 MEETING OF CREDITORS. G7 
 
 die notes given to Everton, and thereby an- 
 nulling tlie judgment. He also related how 
 Turner had discovered these last transactions 
 as far as himself was concerned, and thereby 
 brought about a crisis in his affairs that could 
 not have been very long delayed. After this 
 he read a statement, showing his liabilities and 
 resources, and then sat down without any com- 
 ment thereon. 
 
 It was some time before any one made a re- 
 mark. At length a merchant said, in a grave 
 voice 
 
 " I think our friend has been to blame IB 
 many things that he has done." 
 
 " To blame !" echoed Turner, in a sharp, 
 excited voice. " Worse, I should say, than 
 merely to blame." 
 
 " And so should I," said another. " This 
 giving a judgment, in order to prefer one man 
 over another, is not a fair way to do business." 
 
 " But remark," spoke up Hartwell, " that 
 this transaction looked to no such preference. 
 It shows that upon its face." 
 
 " I am not so sure that it does," was re- 
 torted. " It's A judgment sweeping the entire 
 stock in his store, and leaving nothing for you 
 nor me, nor anybody else. That is enough 
 for me. I do not wish to look any deeper, nor
 
 68 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 comfort myself for what I am doomed to los 
 by any over nice discriminations." 
 
 " No, nor I either," said Turner. " The 
 fact is, things look bad very bad ! And I for 
 one" 
 
 From the moment Turner began to speak, 
 Coleman fixed his eyes steadily upon him, and 
 looked at him with a meaning in his glance so 
 well understood by the former, that he paused 
 in the middle of his sentence and left it unfin- 
 ished. As he did so, Coleman withdrew his 
 eyes from his face. 
 
 This meaning look, and also its effect upon 
 Turner, were noticed by many of those present. 
 
 " Buying goods on time and forcing them off 
 for cash !" said another of the creditors, in a 
 voice of surprise and rebuke. " I don't like 
 that at all. As Mr. Turner says, it looks bad 
 For my part I can't see how any man of truly 
 honest principles could do it. Why, I would 
 fail a dozen times before I would do that." 
 
 " And so would any other honest man," fell 
 sharply from the lips of Turner. Coleman's 
 eyes were again upon his face. 
 
 " Gentlemen," interposed the merchant who 
 had been called to preside at the meeting, " re- 
 marks of this kind are unnecessary. We are 
 here to make an examination into the affairs of
 
 MEETING OF CREDITORS. 69 
 
 our unfortunate debtor, who calls us in and 
 submits to us a full statement of his business. 
 It is seriously involved, I am sorry to say ; but 
 we have, now, less to do with the causes that 
 led to embarrassment, than with the actual con- 
 dition of things. Let us act like men of rea- 
 son and consideration ; not with mere passion 
 and impulse. From Mr. Coleman's own state- 
 ment it appears that his liabilities and assets 
 are about equal in amount ; but, it is very 
 plain that, in the settlement of his affairs, not 
 over fifty per cent, of the valuation here placed 
 upon his assets can possibly be realized. His 
 proposition is to relinquish everything and let 
 us make the best of what is left ; and it is for 
 us to consider whether this will enable us to 
 divide more on the dollar, than would be ob- 
 tained if we left the settlement of affairs in his 
 own hands, though under certain restrictions." 
 
 " Fifty cents on the dollar !" said Turner 
 impatiently. " After Everton's judgment 
 sweeps off his stock in trade, I should like to 
 know where fifty cents on the dollar are to come 
 from." 
 
 " That judgment can be settled, or the goods 
 in the store disposed of by common consent of 
 the creditors before it will come in force,'' 
 remarked Hartwell.
 
 70 LEBTOR AMD CREEITOR. 
 
 " True," said the chairman. " Two weeks ; 
 I understand, will elapse before the judgment 
 can be used. Long before that, this whole 
 stock can be removed ; and Everton will have 
 to come in and take his proportion with the 
 rest of us, which I consider no more than right. 
 The first thing to do. in order to begin this 
 work promptly, is for Mr. Coleman to make a 
 general assignment of everything for the mu- 
 tual benefit of his creditors. If this does not 
 protect his property from seizure under a judg- 
 ment not yet in force, which I am of opinion 
 that it will, we will at least be in a position to 
 protect our own interests." 
 
 Much more conversation passed, in which 
 many of those present took occasion to be se- 
 vere upon the debtor, and to intimate that 
 many of his avowed transactions were of a verj 
 questionable character. Some were in favor 
 of giving him the settlement of affairs, and 
 others positively objected. 
 
 " We have had enough of his management," 
 remarked one. 
 
 " Yes, Heaven knows we have !" said Tur- 
 ner. 
 
 " Gentlemen !" spoke up Coleman, a so far 
 as I am individually concerned, I would much 
 rather not have the settlement of this business
 
 MEETING OF CREDITORS 71 
 
 placed in my hands. But, I am satisfied that 
 I could make it pay a larger dividend than 
 would be obtained by any one else ; and there- 
 fore would rather be entrusted with the man- 
 agement of affairs. But that must be as you 
 think best. I do not ask nor expect to be con- 
 sidered at all in the matter." 
 
 " To this I positively object," said Turner. 
 
 " And so do I." 
 
 " And so do I," was repeated by several of 
 those present. 
 
 Coleman was stung to the quick by this op- 
 position, which involved a reflection upon his 
 integrity. But so anxious did he feel that the 
 irost possible to be obtained from the wreck of 
 his business, should be realised for the benefit 
 of creditors, that he appeared not to notice what 
 had been said, but went on to show how much 
 better for all it would be if the business of 
 closing up everything were left in his hands. 
 
 " I will never consent." 
 
 " He's too anxious to keep his hands on 
 everything." 
 
 " I've had enough of him." 
 
 And similar expressions, reached the ears of 
 Coleman from various parts of the room, spoken 
 from one to another, yet loud enough to be dis- 
 tinctly heard by all.
 
 73 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 *' I have no more to say, gentlemen Con- 
 Bult your own interests, and do what you think 
 best," said the debtor, shrinking down into his 
 place, and feeling a most oppressive and pain- 
 ful sense of humiliation. 
 
 There was for some moments a dead pause. 
 
 " I move," said Hartwell, " for the appoint- 
 ment of a committee of three persons, into 
 whose hands shall be given the statement just 
 made by Mr. Coleman ; and that they be re- 
 quested to examine the same, and report there- 
 on at a meeting to be held to-morrow night at 
 this plttce. 1 ' 
 
 To this there was a spontaneous agreement ; 
 and, after a good deal of conversation, in which 
 but little was said that did not smart upon the 
 debtor's feeling, though often no intention to 
 wound was in the mind of him who spoke, the 
 meeting adjourned, and Coleman went home, 
 BO weak in every limb, that he sank, exhausted, 
 upon a sofa, the moment he entered his room. 
 
 " Words are little things," he said to his 
 wife, after he had recovered himself, and was 
 able to relate calmly, the occurrences of the 
 evening ; " but, sometimes, they fall upon a 
 man like strokes from a sledge-hammer ; and it 
 requires no ordinary strength of mind to bear 
 up under them. There is something cowardly
 
 MEETING OF CREDITORS. f& 
 
 m the thrusting at a man who has no power to 
 defend himself." 
 
 " An honest mind is not over quick to 
 charge dishonesty upon others," remarked 
 Mrs. Coleman. 
 
 " I am aware of that ; and should not feel as 
 I do, because men who are not over nice in 
 their own dealings, think themselves authorized 
 to insult me. But, the weight of a feather 
 cannot be borne if laid upon a part that is 
 highly inflamed." 
 
 "It is hard to bear insult from those we 
 have unintentionally wronged, for we have no 
 power to defend ourselves." 
 
 " Yes ; and that is the reason why I feel so 
 acutely," replied Coleman. 
 
 In mutual efforts to sustain each other in 
 the trials upon which they were entering, Cole- 
 man and his wife spent a long time, and then 
 sought their pillows, where they lay for hours 
 before sleep came with its blessed lethoon.
 
 74 DEBTOR AND HREDITOR. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE ASSIGNMENT. 
 
 DURING the next day Coleman was visitei 
 by many of his creditors, especially by those 
 who felt their individual cases to be very 
 hard. 
 
 " It will ruin me," said one man, in great 
 agitation " utterly ruin me. How could 
 you let your affairs become so dreadfully en- 
 tangled ! You ought to have informed me of 
 this long ago, and given me a chance to save 
 myself. There are plenty who can bear the 
 loss ; I cannot." 
 
 " It is too late now to do anything," replied 
 Mr. Coleman. 
 
 " I know it is ; and that is what makes the 
 matter so much worse. I shall have to stop 
 there is no help for it." 
 
 " I only owe you two thousand dollars," said 
 the debtor. " Surely you can bear up under 
 the loss of half of that sum." 
 
 " No, I cannot. It is the last pound that 
 breaks the camel's back." And the man walk 
 ed about, greatly disturbed. 
 
 " I wish it were different," said M.r. Cole-
 
 THE ASSIGNMENT 
 
 man. " But, as things now are, only one ro- 
 Bult can be looked for. I have no longer any 
 control over my affairs, as you know." 
 
 " I shall be ruined ruined ! Nothing can 
 now save me ! The hard labor of five years 
 will be swept from my hands in a moment, and 
 I shall be turned adrift upon the world, bur- 
 dened with a growing and expensive family." 
 
 " I will be no better off," Coleman said, 
 " after a hard struggle of twenty years." 
 
 " You !" was the quick retort. " Am I to 
 blame for your failure r" 
 
 " I did not say that you were." 
 
 " Is any one blameable but yourself ?" 
 
 " Perhaps not." 
 
 " Then you should bear the consequences of 
 your own acts without complaining.'' 
 
 Stung by this rebuke, Coleman remained 
 silent while the man indulged his humor, until 
 either decency or exhaustion caused him to de- 
 sist. He had been gone but a little while, 
 when another came in 
 
 " Is it possible," he said, speaking warmly, 
 " that you sent the last lot of goods bought 
 from me to auction." 
 
 " I stated as much last evening, sir." 
 
 " But was that right ? was that honest, Mr. 
 Coleman ?"
 
 76 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 ' You must decide that matter for yourself. 
 I -have fully stated the reason why I did so " 
 
 " But no reason can justify such a proceed- 
 ing." 
 
 " Perhaps not. I sought no justification 
 when I stated the fact ; and ask none now. 
 That it was not done to secure my own pecu- 
 niary good, I believe I have the means of 
 showing." 
 
 " Buy large quantities of goods on time, and 
 force them off at auction, immediately previous 
 to failing ! Depend upon it, Mr. Coleman, 
 this looks bad very bad !" 
 
 " I grant you that it does. My reasons for 
 doing so you already have, and you must all 
 judge me as you think best. The worst part 
 of the whole affair is, that there is now no help 
 for what has been done. If the consequences 
 fell only on me ; if my property would pay all 
 I owed, I think I could meet, with a cheerful 
 face, whatever is to follow, even though not a 
 single cent be left me." 
 
 " It looks bad, sir, bad !" muttered the 
 creditor. " Very bad ! I never heard of suoh 
 a thing ! How much do you think you can 
 pay?" 
 
 " If permitted to settle up everything my- 
 self, I am sanguine that I can pay from seventy
 
 THE ASSIGNMENT. 77 
 
 (o eighty per cent, of the whole amount of in- 
 debtedness." 
 
 " You are !" This was said in a tone of 
 surprise." 
 
 " I am sure that I could do it. But if my 
 effects are placed in the hands of some one 
 who knows nothing about my business, and who 
 will not take the pains that I would to turn 
 everything to the best account, not over forty or 
 fifty per cent, may be realized." 
 
 " That is a serious difference." 
 
 " It certainly is. There will be a loss 
 this is inevitable. But, it is only just to me, 
 as well as to all concerned, to make this loss 
 as small as possible." 
 
 " No doubt of that in the world. Eighty 
 cents. You are sanguine of being able to pay 
 as high a per centage as this, if you have con- 
 trol over the property assigned." 
 
 " I am," replied Coleman, confidently. 
 
 " Then I am in favor of your being allowed 
 to settle up the business." 
 
 " I am sure it will be better for all parties." 
 
 " There are. some, however, who will oppose 
 this," said the creditor, his austerity of man- 
 ner now almost entirely gone. 
 
 " I am aware of that ; and, really, have no 
 ijxpectation of being permitted to do anything 
 7*
 
 78 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 more than deliver up my account books and 
 property into the hands of persons appointed 
 to receive them." 
 
 ' And who, not knowing anything about 
 your business, will conduct the settlement in a 
 manner entirely detrimental to the interests of 
 creditors." 
 
 " Of course. How could it be otherwise ?" 
 
 " Mr. Colenian," said this man, after reflect- 
 ing for a short time, and speaking in an insinu- 
 ating tone of voice. " I think I have some in- 
 fluence with the majority of your creditors, and 
 have no doubt but that I could do a great deal 
 towards promoting your wishes." 
 
 " I am sure of that, if you saw proper to use 
 your influence." 
 
 " And why should I not ?" 
 
 " You can, yourself, best answer that ques- 
 tion." 
 
 " Mr. Coleman." The creditor's manner 
 became more bland and insinuating. " In mat- 
 ters of this kind, a debtor ought to have a friend 
 at court." 
 
 " He ought, for there will be enough there 
 who have no very kind feelings towards 
 him." 
 
 " You may well say that. And in your 
 case, the remark is particularly true. Nearly
 
 THE ASSIGNMENT. 79 
 
 *11 with whom I have conversed express senti- 
 ments that are far from being friendly." 
 
 " I am sorry for that ; I wish it were other 
 wise." 
 
 " So do I. But as I have said, so it is 
 There is, therefore, so much the stronger rea 
 son why you should make a friend, if you can, 
 and that an influential one. I have influence 
 and you can make me your Mend, if you will." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " By so managing the affairs, if the settle- 
 ment comes into your hands, as to make the 
 loss I am about to sustain, lighter than it would 
 otherwise be." 
 
 Mr. Coleman shook his head. 
 
 " You can do so," pursued the creditor, 
 " without injury to others. Just take this view 
 of it. It is of the utmost importance for you 
 to get the settlement of this business into your 
 hands, that you may have it in your power to 
 protect not only the general interests of your 
 creditors, but the interests of a few who have, 
 doubtless, befriended you in extremity, and 
 whom you must be anxious to save from harm. 
 I have heard that you owe sums of money bor- 
 rowed from your relatives, and others, who 
 ought to be paid off in full. This you could 
 do, and yet secure to all a much larger divi-
 
 PO DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 dend, than if a person less interested than your- 
 self were to be empowered to close up the 
 estate. Now, just say that you will put me en 
 the list of those entitled to a little extra con- 
 sideration, and I will go for your being per- 
 mitted to settle up the business, and fight 
 through in spite of everything." 
 
 " If you think it right," Coleman replied to 
 this, " to advocate my appointment, I will pro- 
 mise to secure your interests as fully as I do 
 those of any relative or friend that I have, but 
 to no greater extent." 
 
 " I suppose I ought not to ask any more," 
 said the man. 
 
 " But," resumed Coleman, " I would not 
 have you suppose, for a moment, that I would 
 give my own brother an advantage in the set- 
 tlement of my affairs over the greatest enemy I 
 had in the world, were he my creditor." 
 
 The man changed color, looked disappoint- 
 ed, and bowing to Coleman, turned off and left 
 his store. 
 
 Many other interviews were held with credi 
 tors during this day of trial ; some appealing 
 for special acts in their favor, in consideration 
 of their peculiar circumstances ; some coming 
 in for the mere satisfaction of saying some hard 
 things ; others to get satisfaction on certain
 
 THE ASSIGNMENT. 81 
 
 points not clearly understood, and others t j see 
 if the debtor could not be won over so far as to 
 favor particular interests. 
 
 At length the hour, at which a second meet- 
 ing of creditors was to take place, arrived. 
 Not over half who met at first were in attend- 
 ance. Most of the absentees had expressed 
 their views to certain men who intended to be 
 present. 
 
 The report of the committee that had been 
 appointed for the purposes of inquiry and 
 investigation, did not make the debtor's state- 
 ment look quite so favorable as it at first ap- 
 peared. This gave room for such as felt dis- 
 posed, to say things that were unpleasant to 
 the feelings of Coleman ; and the opportu- 
 nity was improved, and the unhappy man 
 galled and chafed until he could with difficulty 
 retain a decent self-control. Particularly did 
 certain parties dwell upon the improper sale of 
 goods at auction they were those who had 
 suffered thereby. That they felt aggrieved, is 
 no matter of surprise. Coleman, in the wrong 
 he had suffered himself to do them, while blind- 
 ly struggling to get out of a difficulty, laid him- 
 self open to consequences such as were now 
 visiting him Neither his acts, nor the spirit 
 that punished them, can wo approve ; but, on
 
 82 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 the score of disapproval, the latter certainly i? 
 open to the severest censure, as, under the cir- 
 cumstances, uncalled for, unmanly, and cruel. 
 There is, often, in the conduct of creditora 
 towards debtors, a spirit of unmitigated base- 
 ness ; a meanness and cowardliness that all 
 honorable men despise. And there are, at the 
 game time, noble exceptions to this course of 
 conduct. We have seen men sign away claims 
 of thousands of dollars, and, in doing so, avoid 
 a word or a look that could make the unfortu- 
 nate debtor feel a pang beyond which his own 
 reflections gave. And we have seen men, in 
 view of heavy losses to themselves, forget their 
 own position, and argue the poor debtor's cause 
 as earnestly as if they were pleading their own 
 voluntarily giving up certain advantages, and 
 urging others to do the same in order that he 
 who owed them more than he could pay, might 
 not be altogether broken up and deprived of the 
 means of supporting his family. In most cases 
 of insolvency, an honest debtor that is, one 
 who, no matter what have been his errors, de- 
 signed no wrong is the one who most needs 
 commiseration. He gives up all, everything, 
 and his family are deprived, it may be, of com- 
 forts to which they have, all their lives, been 
 usod ; while his creditors lose only a certain sum
 
 THE ASSIGNMENT. 83 
 
 that rarely if ever causes the abridgment of a 
 (jingle luxury. Of course there are exceptions 
 to this. It often happens that the failure of 
 one man brings distress to many others. Bat 
 we are only speaking of what is general. 
 
 The first thing to be considered at the meet- 
 ing, was the manner in which the debtor's 
 estate should be settled. Mr. Hartwell pro- 
 posed that everything be left in the hands of 
 Mr. Coleman, under a certain supervision, with 
 instructions to him to close out all his goods, 
 and collect in his debts as rapidly as was con- 
 sistent with the general interests of creditors. 
 
 " I object to that in toto," said one of the 
 creditors, very promptly. " We have had 
 enough of mismanagement under him already. 
 I go for the speediest settlement of everything. 
 Let us have what we are to get, whether it be 
 eighty or ten cents on the dollar, and be done 
 with it." 
 
 " I'm of precisely the same opinion," said 
 Turner. u And, for one, I shall positively ob- 
 ject to giving the gentleman any further say in 
 regard to the closing up of this miserable busi- 
 ness. There is one matter of which I have 
 thought since last night, and to which I will 
 call attention. I find, that in the schedule fur- 
 nished by Coleman, not a word is said about
 
 H4 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 household furniture, plate, jewelry, etc. Now, 
 I have pretty good reasons for knowing that 
 the aggregate of all these will make a hand- 
 some amount. But, perhaps, they are already 
 made over to meet some special cases." 
 
 " I admit," said Coleman, rising and inter- 
 rupting Turner, " that these have not been in- 
 cluded in my list of assets. But, they are all 
 unincumbered, and I shall not make the small- 
 est effort to retain or dispose of them." 
 
 " At what do you estimate their value ?" 
 inquired one of the creditors. 
 
 " Take everything books, plate, &c., and 
 I suppose from two to four thousand dollars 
 might be obtained therefor." 
 
 u Quite an important item on the right side 
 of our account," said Turner. 
 
 And there were others who agreed with him 
 in this. 
 
 " Gentleman," said one of the creditors, 
 who had been nearly silent till now, " in mat- 
 ters of this kind, I need not inform you, that 
 there are always two parties. Ono is weak and 
 powerless the other strong, and too often dis- 
 posed to oppress The debtor, I think, is en- 
 titled to some forbearance ; and I am always 
 ready to consider him, as far as I can do so in 
 justice to myself. I believe, out of the fifteen
 
 THE ASSIGNMENT. 85 
 
 persons present this evening, that there is not 
 one who has not a comfortable home, and am- 
 ple means to continue these blessings to his 
 family, despite the losses he will sustain through 
 the failure of our unfortunate friend whose case 
 we are considering to-night. Now, I ask each 
 one of you to reflect a moment, and ask him- 
 self whether he will enjoy the warmth of his 
 own fireside any the better for the reflection 
 that the hearth of our debtor is cold and dark ? 
 I am sure he will not. It is bad enough for 
 him to be turned adrift upon the world to look 
 for the means of keeping the grim monster 
 want from entering his door, without our visit- 
 ing, with the extremest severity in our power, 
 his mistakes or misfortunes suddenly upon his 
 family, some members of which most of us 
 know and highly esteem. The little that each 
 one will receive as a proportion of what his 
 furniture will bring, if sold, is of too light im- 
 portance to justify our laying hands upon it 
 I am, therefore, in favor of making his furni- 
 ture, plate, etc., a present to Mrs. Coleman." 
 " And I am in favor of no such thing," re- 
 plied Turner, springing to his feet the n'oment 
 the other sat down. " With the same pro- 
 priety, we might present Coleman himself with 
 the goods iu his store, or the accounts on his
 
 86 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR 
 
 lodger, in order to give him the means of sup- 
 porting his family. In fact, give him a receipt 
 in full and let him go scot free. But, I tell 
 you, sir, that I have no fancy for letting other 
 people enjoy themselves at my expense. That 
 furniture was bought with a part of my money. 
 I have, therefore, a claim upon it, and shall not 
 relinquish it." 
 
 To this, the individual who had made the 
 more generous proposal, said 
 
 " As for stripping an unfortunate debtor of 
 everything, and turning him adrift upon the 
 world, with a large family upon his hands and 
 no means of supporting them, I never did bs- 
 lieve it just. A great deal is said about the 
 rights of property ; but I recognise the rights of 
 humanity as having some claim to be heard at 
 the same time. Not only would I spare the 
 household goods of our debtor, but I would, 
 also, cheerfully relinquish five or ten per cent, 
 on the whole amount realized in the settlement 
 of his estate, and present it to him as a small 
 capital on which to begin again, and acquire 
 the means of supporting his family, and edu- 
 cating his children To each of us this would 
 not be a serious matter ; to him it would be 
 everything. It would take nothing from our 
 personal comfort, or the comfort of our farni-
 
 THE ASSIGNMENT. 87 
 
 lies , And be almost everything to him and 
 his." 
 
 " W-J], gentlemen, you can all do as you 
 please," said Turner, in answer to this. " For 
 my part, I am in business for my own benefit, 
 and have enough to do to take care of my own 
 family. I would soon find myself coming out 
 at the little end of the horn, and so would all 
 the rest of us, if we adopted the system pro- 
 posed of paying five or ten per cent, commis- 
 sion on insolvency. It's bad enough to be put off 
 with forty or fifty per cent, on what is actually 
 due you. But, to make a gratuity of five or 
 ten per cent, of that, is cutting it a little too 
 deep for me, and I wont stand it no how. I 
 never covet other people's goods, but I think 
 I am fairly entitled to my own, and generally 
 take good care to get it if I can." 
 
 " I hope gentlemen present," returned the 
 individual who had before spoken, " will not 
 permit themselves to be influenced by any ap- 
 peals to a selfish and inhumane spirit. Our 
 debtor is a man of like feelings with ourselves, 
 find like us, has children whom he loves and 
 has to care for. Do not put your foot upon 
 his neck, now that he is down. Do not pur- 
 sue him to the last extremity. Give him a
 
 DEBTOR AND CREDIT . 
 
 chance to recover himself. It may be bettei 
 for you, as well as for himself, in the end." 
 
 *' I don't see how I am to be benefited by 
 his recovering himself," said Turner, ill-na- 
 turedly. 
 
 " He may be able to pay the balance of your 
 claim against him." 
 
 " He ! Oh, yes !" and Turner spoke sneer- 
 ingly. " I've heard of such things as fortu- 
 nate debtors paying off their old claims, but I 
 have yet to see the man who can say that he 
 ever saw the thing done, and I have my doubts 
 if it ever was done. It 1 s the same story that I 
 hear at all meetings of creditors but it's only 
 a story got up to serve a certain purpose." 
 
 As Turner ceased speaking, Hartwell said 
 
 " I certainly do approve the humane senti- 
 ments that have been expressed here to-night 
 by one of the gentlemen. They are alike 
 creditable to his head and heart. I am very 
 sure, that we are more in danger of erring on 
 the side of harshness than leniency towards our 
 unfortunate debtor. For one, I am in favor of 
 making his furniture a present to his family. 
 It would divide but a small sum to each of ua 
 while it will be of great importance to them. 
 As to the liberal suggestion of a per centago
 
 THE ASSIGNMENT. 89 
 
 on the actual proceeds of his estate as a small 
 capital to enable him to commence business and 
 support his family, I must confess that 1 like it 
 There is something noble and generous in such 
 an act that speaks well for human nature. I 
 am sure, that my fire will burn brighter as I 
 gather around it with my little ones, to think 
 that I have done my part towards keeping the 
 coals alive in his. Gentlemen ! Let us not 
 look upon the mere possession of gold as the 
 greatest good. Let us not put a few dollars 
 in one pocket at so great a cost as that of 
 bringing want and distress into a whole house 
 hold. It will cost each of us but a small sa- 
 crifice to do a great good." 
 
 " According to that," retorted Turner, 
 sharply, " we had better turn Samaritans at 
 once, and raise a general fund for the setting 
 up again of every poor devil who fails in busi- 
 ness. I reckon we shouldn't have much left 
 in the end. The fact is, gentlemen, I don't 
 claim to possess any very extra share of bene- 
 volence. I've seen enough of the world to 
 satisfy me, that any man who expects to get 
 along must learn to take care of himself, and 
 leave every one else to look after his own af- 
 fairs. As to doing anything so preposterous as 
 the gentleman suggests, I will net think of it
 
 90 DEBTOR AND CRE1 ITOR. 
 
 for a moment. What is mine is mine, and I'll 
 claim it at the very gate of Perdition ! So, 
 you all know how I stand in this business." 
 
 Some of the creditors leaned to the views of 
 Turner, and others felt and yielded to the force 
 of better convictions. Upon taking the sense 
 of the meeting, it was found that a large ma- 
 jority were in favor of letting the household 
 goods of the debtor remain untouched. 
 
 It was then proposed by one of the parties 
 present to abate a third of the claims against 
 Coleman, and give him from one to three years 
 in which to pay the balance of two-thirds ; the 
 property to remain secured to the creditors 
 under the assignment, and to be released when 
 the amount specified was paid. This, he ar- 
 gued, would give the debtor a chance to recover 
 himself, and enable him to pay a larger divi- 
 dend than would be obtained if the business 
 were settled up in a summary way. 
 
 "No, sir!" Turner decidedly objected to 
 this. " For one, I am not going to be left 
 hanging by the eyelids for two or three years 
 Whatever the estate will divide I want as soou 
 as it can be obtained. The first loss I have 
 always found to be the least. All these hu- 
 mane, debtor-considering measures, never turn 
 out to the creditor's advantage, but always to
 
 THE ASSIGNMENT. 91 
 
 his injury. Let this matter go on for two or 
 three years, and you'll not one of you get ten 
 per cent., if you do a copper. The business 
 must be closed up at once." 
 
 On this point the meeting stood, for some 
 time, nearly equally divided ; but Turner's in- 
 fluence at last prevailed, and it was determined 
 to close up everything as speedily as possible. 
 A good deal of discussion followed as to whe- 
 ther Colenian should be employed to make the 
 settlement, or whether his effects should be 
 placed in the hands of an assignee. The last 
 proposition was carried. 
 
 It was then moved that the furniture, plate, 
 etc., of the debtor be presented to his wife 
 Unexpectedly to all, Turner made no objec- 
 tion, and, as he was silent, those who had fol- 
 lowed his lead, had nothing to say. The mo- 
 tion was carried, Turner declining to vote either 
 way. 
 
 When the meeting broke up, after appointing 
 an assignee, and arranging for the speedy clos- 
 ing up of the business, Coleman again returned 
 home, but so exhausted, that his yielding limba 
 with difficulty supported the weight of his body. 
 Wretched as he felt, he had yet a sense of re- 
 lief in view of the certainty that now existed. 
 Hope, fear, and anxiety about the course his
 
 92 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 creditors \vould pursue, was at an end. They 
 had decided to take everything out of his 
 hands, and settle the estate entirely independent 
 of his co-operation. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 COilING DOWN LOOKING TO THE FUTURE. 
 
 THE cruel insults, and bitter opposition of 
 Turner, had been borne by Coleinan without 
 any reference to the dishonorable proposition 
 this creditor had made to him. Once or twice, 
 he was on the eve of alluding to what had 
 passed, but the reflection that such an exposure 
 would only render opposition more malignant 
 and violent, and perhaps, do harm all round, 
 kept him silent. His forbearance only gave 
 room for grosser insult. 
 
 By this time, Mrs. Coleman had fully ap- 
 prised her eldest daughter of what was passing, 
 and of the great reverse they were about to suf- 
 fer. As might be supposed, Marion was for a 
 time overcome by such an unlooked-for and 
 distressing announcement. But her mother
 
 COMING DOWN 93 
 
 sought to turn her thoughts from, herself (oher 
 father, and awaken in her mind a feeling of 
 sympathy for him in the severe trials through 
 which he was passing. In this she was fully 
 successful, and the affectionate girl forgot all 
 the consequences she must herself bear, in the 
 earnest desire she felt to make lighter the bui 
 dens that were laid upon her beloved parent. 
 
 When Mr. Coleman returned home from the 
 meeting of creditors at which final action in 
 regard to his affairs had been taken, he found 
 both his wife and daughter awaiting him. The 
 look of earnest affection cast upon him by Ma- 
 rion as he came in, assured him that she knew 
 all, and that she was prepared to meet all with 
 sustaining patience. 
 
 In answer to the inquiries of his wife, Mr. 
 Coleman gave a minute account of what had 
 passed during the evening. Marion wept as he 
 repeated the many deeply cutting remarks he 
 had been compelled to bear, from men whose 
 own sense of honor and just dealing were by no 
 means acute. The fact that her parent, for 
 whom she felt the highest respect, as well as 
 the tenderest affection, had been so cruelly in- 
 sulted, hurt her more than anything that had 
 occurred in her whole life. 
 
 " They have spared our furniture," said Mrs
 
 S4 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 Coleman, after the first emotions awakened by 
 the recital of the husband had in some measure 
 subsided. " Even for that we ought to be 
 thankful." 
 
 " It was yielding a good deal in our favor , 
 more, I am sure, than I expected or had any 
 right to expect." 
 
 " There can now be nothing wrong in my 
 selling the things I spoke of, and paying the 
 money to sister ?" 
 
 " Nothing at all. The creditors have gene- 
 rously presented you with our household goods, 
 plate, and various little matters of personal 
 property, and, of course, we may dispose of 
 them as we see best. And it is my opinion 
 that we had better sell immediately every arti- 
 cle we can do without, and assume a style of 
 living in accordance with our altered circum- 
 stances. I do not like to think so badly of 
 Turner, but I cannot help believing, that his 
 intention is, so soon as he sees his way clear, 
 to seize upon what the creditors have spared, 
 and thus make good any loss he may sustain in 
 the final closing up of my affairs. All at once, 
 while this matter was under consideration, he 
 gave up his opposition, and let things take the 
 course desired by the majority of creditors. 
 \\ 7 hen tho sense of the meeting was taken on
 
 COMING DOWN 95 
 
 the subject, he declined voting either way. 1 am 
 satisfied that he had some purpose in his mind 
 boding no good to me, and the more I think 
 about it, the more probable does it seem, that 
 he intends seizing upon anything he can find in 
 my possession, as soon as he can see his way 
 clear to do it." 
 
 " The man who could make such dishonor- 
 able proposals as he made to you," replied 
 Mrs. Coleman, " will not, I am sure, stop at 
 anything. What you advise, is, therefore, 
 best, even if there were not other reasons for 
 doing so. Oh yes ! By all means let us turn 
 everything, not absolutely needful, into money. 
 Let us immediately remove into a smaller 
 house, and take a more humble place in so- 
 ciety. This will have to be done as a matter 
 of necessity ; by making it, in some sense, a 
 matter of choice, the sacrifice will neither seem 
 so great nor be so painful." 
 
 In this sentiment the daughter acquiesced, 
 and showed such an earnest, self-sacrificing 
 spirit, notwithstanding it was plain that her 
 heart shrunk with an instinctive fear from what 
 was before her, that Mr. Coleman was deeply 
 touched by the exhibition. 
 
 As they said, so they acted, promptly. A 
 small house, in a part of the town at some du
 
 96 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 tancc from where they lived, was taken, at a 
 very moderate rent, and furnished plainly but 
 comfortably. Then a sale of the more elegant 
 furniture that remained was advertised, and 
 everything disposed of in less than two weeks 
 from the time at which the assignment had 
 been made. The sum received therefor in- 
 cluding a handsome rosewood piano belonging 
 to Marion, was nearly three thousand dollars. 
 One thousand of this was immediately paid to 
 Mrs. Colcman's sister, and five hundred to the 
 clerk from whom a thousand dollars had been 
 borrowed. It was supposed that the dividend 
 on the property and debts in the hands of the 
 assignee would nearly, if not quite, make up the 
 balance due to these parties. The fifteen hun- 
 dred dollars that remained, Mr. Coleman de- 
 posited in bank, until he could see clearly what 
 disposition to make of it. Now that the bit- 
 terness of the terrible reverse he had sustained 
 was in some measure gone, he began to think 
 seriously about the future, and what was due 
 from him to his family, as well as to those who 
 had suffered by his failure. His first duty, he 
 clearly saw was to his family. 
 
 " God has given me these children," he 
 eaid, " and the better I can educate them, the 
 better fitted will they be to perform higher uses
 
 COMING DOWN. 97 
 
 in society I gave up every tiling, but those 1 
 owed generously returned a part ; and this 1 
 look upon as so much placed in my hands by 
 Providence as a means of sustaining my family. 
 It was not, perhaps, right for me to let a part 
 go, in a spirit of preference, to my sister-in- 
 law and clerk. Abstractly, they are no more 
 entitled to consideration than others. But if I 
 erred, it was in weakness, and I cannot now 
 help it. Would to heaven it were in my power 
 to act as justly by others. Perhaps it may be, 
 in time. But, now, those dependent upon me 
 claim my first consideration." 
 
 It so happened, that a short time before Mr 
 Coleman's failure, he had paid a half-yearly Col- 
 lege term in advance for his son. The addi- 
 tional expense for the four months that now 
 remained would be for boarding, and this it 
 was thought best to pay, and let Henry remain 
 where he was for the present. 
 
 In the settlement of Mr. Coleman^s affairs 
 under the assignment, Mr. Evertonwas thrown 
 out of any advantage his judgment upon the 
 stock in the store would give him He was 
 very angry at this, and charged dishonorable 
 conduct and a want of good faith upon the un- 
 happy debtor, at the same time that he threat- 
 ened him with the worst consequences that he 
 9
 
 98 BEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 could inflict, if he ever got him into his power. 
 It was in vain that Coleman assured him that 
 all control over his property was taken out ol 
 his hands before his notes came due. To this 
 he replied, that it was his duty, immediately 
 his affairs became so entangled that he could 
 not go on, to confess a judgment in his favor, 
 thus anticipating the action, of the provisional 
 one he held, and giving him a chance to secure 
 himself before the other creditors could come 
 in. 
 
 " No matter what I had done," Coleman 
 sighed to myself, " somebody would have felt 
 aggrieved. It is difficult for a man to lose his 
 property, and not feel angry at the instrument 
 of his loss." 
 
 At first, Coleman sought employment at a 
 salary, but nothing presented itself. He then 
 began to think seriously of commencing busi- 
 ness jn a small way upon the few hundred dol- 
 lars he had obtained from the sale of his furni- 
 ture. But he saw that it would be folly to do 
 this unless his creditors would release him from 
 the balance of their claims. A majority, he 
 knew, would grant the desired release, and do 
 it cheerfully ; but he feared that others would 
 positively refuse to sign away their rights to 
 any property he might acquire in tho future
 
 COMING DOWN. 99 
 
 It was a duty, however, that ho owed to him- 
 self and family to make the effort, and he did 
 so. Some, upon whom he called, unhesitat- 
 ingly agreed to do what he wished ; others 
 Baid, that if all the rest signed, they would not 
 refuse to do so. Some wanted time to con- 
 sider. Among those to whom application was 
 made was Turner. It was a great trial for 
 Coleman to apply to him; but duty forced 
 him to go, although he felt little hope of a fa- 
 vorable result. Unexpectedly, Turner received 
 him with a smile instead of a frown ; yet, even 
 in the smile, he could detect a want of sin- 
 cerity. 
 
 " My wish is, Mr. Turner," said the debtor, 
 with marked embarrassment in his voice, " to 
 get into some business, if possible, that will en- 
 able me to obtain a moderate support for my 
 family. I am doing nothing at present, and 
 you are aware, that I have a good many who 
 are dependent upon me." 
 
 " What is your son doing ?" asked Turner, 
 his tone of voice and his manner saying very 
 plainly ' being one of my creditors, I have a 
 right to question you upon everything pertain- 
 ing to your private as well as your business 
 affairs.'
 
 iOU DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 " He is still at College," replied Mr Cole- 
 man. 
 
 " At College ! Indeed ! How can you af- 
 ford to keep him there ?" 
 
 " It happened that I had paid a term in ad- 
 vance, very shortly before I gave up everything 
 into the hands of my creditors." 
 
 " Humph ! Oh ! Ah ! That term has not 
 expired yet ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You don't intend keeping him at College, 
 of course ?" 
 
 " I would like to do so ; but am afraid it will 
 not be in my power." 
 
 " Better bring him home, and get him int/ 
 some business. Henry is a good stout boy 
 How old is he ? 
 
 < : Seventeen." 
 
 " A very good age. You ought by all mean? 
 to get him into a store, and make him support 
 himself." 
 
 " He has talents of a superior order, and I 
 feel it my duty to give him every possible ad- 
 vantage of education." 
 
 ' c But you are not able to do so, sir ; and 
 are wrong to think of it. You should bring 
 him. home at once, and get him into a good
 
 COMING DOWX. 101 
 
 situation But what were you saying about 
 business r" 
 
 " I was saying," replied Mr. Coleman, 
 " that I wished, if possible, to commence busi- 
 ness again in a small way, in order to procure 
 the means of supporting my family. I have 
 some friends who will, I doubt not, aid me, if 
 I can commence the world again with my hands 
 free. Nearly all of my creditors upon whom 1 
 have called, agree to release me, and give me 
 a chance for my life. Will you do the same ?" 
 
 " I don't know, Mr. Coleman. I'll think 
 about that." 
 
 " Unless you do so, it will be all folly for me 
 to make an attempt to go on again.'' 
 
 " How many have agreed to release you ?" 
 asked Turner. 
 
 "Over two-thirds." 
 
 " That's very fair. Have they already 
 signed r" 
 
 " Oh, no. I have not offered a paper for 
 signatures yet." 
 
 " Why don't you do so ?" 
 
 " It's no use until I can get all to consent." 
 
 " Oh ! But it is though, Mr. Coleman. 
 
 Get as many to sign as you can. When a 
 
 name is down, you are safe for so much. Even 
 
 if a few, at la^t, should refuse to come into the 
 
 9*
 
 102 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 irrangenient, you may be able to compromise 
 with them on terms that will not be difficult to 
 meet. As for instance, as far as I am con- 
 cerned, it is not by any means probable that I 
 will sign away my claim upon you. That is a 
 thing I never did in my life, and very much 
 doubt if I ever will do it. I can promise you 
 liberal terms. One, two, three, even four or 
 five years, with interest ; but I am principled 
 against releasing any man from his obligation 
 to pay me what he owes me." 
 
 " If all act upon the same principle, Mr 
 Turner, my case, and the case of every other 
 man who happens to be unfortunate, is hope- 
 less." 
 
 " But all do not act as I do. Some think 
 differently and act differently." 
 
 " Yes, and thank God for it !" responded 
 Coleman, involuntarily expressing, and with 
 some warmth, what he felt. But neither his 
 words nor the manner in which they were ut- 
 tered, appeared in the least to offend his cre- 
 ditor, who was coolly playing his game, with 
 the set purpose of ruining for he knew well 
 the hand of his opponent. 
 
 " True," he said " Every man looks to hia 
 own interest, and one seeks it one way and 
 one in an other. My way is to obtain what
 
 COMING DOWN. 103 
 
 is duo me if possible, without circumlocution. 
 I do not release a debtor, and then trust to get 
 my own out of him by taking advantage of his 
 gratitude. No. But I give him as much time 
 as he can reasonably ask, and wait patiently 
 until he is in a condition to pay me. Can any 
 honest man ask more ?" 
 
 " If you do not release me, others will not," 
 said Coleman, in an altered voice, that camo 
 up from his throat, dry and husky. 
 
 " You don't know any such thing. Try. 
 Get your papers made out, and go to some one 
 whom you know will sign. There will be 
 plenty to follow, after he puts his name down. 
 All you obtain in this way will be so much 
 gained. If any refuse, get one, or two, 01 
 even three influential men who have signed to 
 go to them and use their best efforts to make 
 them change their purpose. My word for it, 
 you will soon have nearly all your indebtedness 
 wiped out." 
 
 " And will you not, then, make one with so 
 large and magnanimous a company ?" said 
 Coleman. 
 
 " I think not. But have no fear about my 
 opposing you. There is no such intention in 
 my mind. You may depend upon my making 
 everything as easy for you as you could wish."
 
 (04 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR 
 
 It was all in vain that Cole man urged this 
 man. He remained firm He next got a 
 friend to see Ever ton. 
 
 " Tell him no," said that individual, angrily. 
 " He played me false, and I will never forgive 
 him." 
 
 " But, my dear sir," urged the friend, " he 
 meant to act fairly towards you. Circumstan- 
 ces he did not expect to occur prevented. To 
 my certain knowledge, he was making most 
 desperate, and, I think, unjustifiable sacrifices 
 of the interests of others in order to meet your 
 notes. And these very acts so deeply incensed 
 certain of his creditors against him, that they 
 would not consent to his having any agency in 
 the settlement of his affairs. When the worst 
 came to the worst, those who assumed the con- 
 trol of his business could not see that you were 
 entitled to any more consideration than others.'' 
 
 " He could have secured me if he had seen 
 proper ; and his failing to do so is an exhibi- 
 tion of bad faith, for which I will not forgive 
 him." 
 
 " But think, Mr. Everton, of his family. 
 They have not injured you ; and, unless he is 
 free to go into business again, through the aid 
 of a few friends, his wife and children must be 
 the sufferers."
 
 COMING DOWN. 105 
 
 " I can't help it. That is their misfortune." 
 
 " You surely would not visit them so severe- 
 ly, Mr. Everton." 
 
 " I have already told you, sir," he replied, 
 in a way that was felt to be insulting, " that I 
 will not release this man from the claim I hold 
 against him ; so it is useless to argue with me 
 about it. Men that act as he acted must be 
 made to feel the consequences of their own 
 deeds." 
 
 The friend of Coleman turned from him and 
 vent away. 
 
 The poor debtor, when he heard the result 
 
 f this application, became deeply depressed 
 
 in spirits. The rift in the cloud through which 
 
 light had come, suddenly closed up, and all 
 
 was dark again darker than before. 
 
 Friends, for in his misfortunes he still had 
 friends, and they were of those who had suf- 
 fered much by him friends advised him to do 
 as Turner had suggested, and see how many of 
 his creditors would sign an unconditional re- 
 lease. A few of them led off in this generous 
 work, and used their influence to get others 
 to imitate their good example. All, finally, 
 came in but Turner and Everton, and these two, 
 no influence could reach. The hope of get- 
 ting every cent that was due to him influenced
 
 106 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 the on<;, and anger at having, as he imagined^ 
 been dealt by unfairly, extinguished in the 
 breast of the other, every feeling of humanity. 
 Reluctant as he was to do so, Coleman at 
 last consented to give Turner his notes at three, 
 four, and five years, with interest added for the 
 assumed balance of three thousand dollars that 
 would remain due after the settlement of the 
 old business under the assignee. He then re- 
 commenced business in a small way, resolved 
 to brave the chances of Everton's coming down 
 upon him, if he really meant to do so 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IT never happens that a family falls from its 
 place in the social circle by misfortune, without 
 having to bear the painful severance of many 
 cherished ties. The family of Mr. Coleman 
 was not, of course, exempt from this conse- 
 quence. At first, the shock of the fall, and the 
 earnestness with which each member entered 
 into the new arrangements that were necessary
 
 EFFECTS. 107 
 
 fa their reduced circumstances, kept them from 
 feeling that void and loneliness, and sense of 
 desertion that was to come. But, after they 
 had retired from their elegant residence, and 
 had shrunk together in the small, plainly 
 furnished, and humble abode that was now their 
 home ; and after a few weeks had passed, dur- 
 ing which but few indeed of their old frienda 
 visited them, the spirits of Marion, particularly, 
 began to droop. 
 
 Marion had been a favorite in the circle 
 where she moved. Familiar with gay company, 
 and courted and caressed wherever she went, it 
 is not surprising that she should be seriously 
 affected by the change, notwithstanding the 
 strong efforts reason prompted her to make in 
 order to compel herself to bear their altered lot 
 with patience. As days and weeks went by, 
 her parents noticed that her face became more 
 and more pensive ; and that her eye had a 
 dreamy look, and often drooped wearily when 
 she was not conscious that any were observing 
 her. 
 
 There was a cause for this that lay deeper 
 than the mere change in their outward circum- 
 stances, or the seclusion from society and old 
 friends consequent thereon. Marion's heart 
 had felt some thrills of an emotion tenders? "<ur
 
 108 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 than any that spring from mere friendship 
 There was a voice, the tones of which were 
 ever in her ears ; and a face and form of manly 
 beauty and bearing, that was ever present to 
 her eyes. Months before misfortunes had 
 driven her out from the circle where sho had 
 shone as a bright and attractive star, one, 
 favored in her eyes above the rest, had lingered 
 often by her sido, his voice falling into a lower 
 and more earnest expression when he addressed 
 her. He had never spoken of love ; but, still, 
 she felt that he regarded her with tender feel- 
 ings ; and as for her own heart, his image had 
 fallen upon it and remained, not merely reflected 
 there, but fixed in a permanent impression. 
 
 To her humbler abode, this person, who had 
 visited her often before, did not come ; and as 
 Marion no longer made one in the old circle, 
 she did not meet him abroad. The maiden 
 now first became aware of the real nature of 
 her feelings. She found that she was more 
 deeply interested in one who had never spoken 
 a word of love, than she had for a moment 
 dreamed; and that the bare thought of meeting 
 him no more, except casually and as a stranger, 
 made her heart tremble and sink heavily upon 
 her bosom. 
 
 It was in vain that Marion argued against
 
 EFFECTS. 109 
 
 what she called a weakness ; it was in vain that 
 she strode to rise superior to feelings that she 
 reproved herself for suffering to tremble in her 
 bosom. Her heart had been touched ; and the 
 impression left could not be effaced. She loved ; 
 but, alas ! in loving, she felt that her love was 
 hopeless. This being so, it is not strange that 
 she soon began to droop in the new atmosphere 
 to which she had been removed, in spite of all 
 her efforts to be cheerful and contented. 
 
 The changed circumstances of Mr. Coleman, 
 brought many new duties upon his wife and 
 eldest daughter. Into all these Marion entered 
 with a willing heart ; and in their performance 
 her spirit was sustained, though not fully. But 
 for these her cheek would have been paler, her 
 eye dimmer, and her heart sadder. 
 
 The real cause of Marion's depressed spirits, 
 her parents did not know. That it sprung not 
 from the mere fact of their changed circum- 
 stances, they felt sure ; for she had from the 
 first, with a readiness not expected, assented to 
 every proposition of retrenchment, and actively 
 joined in carrying out what had been deter- 
 mined upon. 
 
 "I am afraid," said Mr. Coleman, in speak- 
 ing of Marion. " that, unknown to us, her heart 
 10
 
 10 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR 
 
 feas been interested in some one. And that oui 
 reverses have estranged him from her." 
 
 " I know not," replied the mother. " But 
 ;t may be so. Something lies heavy at her 
 heart. Several times I have come suddenly 
 upon her and found her in tears ; and often, as 
 she goes about in the earnest, and, I know, 
 willing performance of the many household 
 duties that devolve upon her, I can hear a low, 
 half checked sigh, struggling up from her 
 bosom." 
 
 " That she should be a sufferer more than 
 the rest of us, grieves me beyond what I can 
 tell," said Mr. Coleman. " Alas ! when mis- 
 fortune visits us, we know not where its hand 
 will rest most heavily." 
 
 " And yet," replied the mother, " we must 
 try and be comforted, even with regard to her, 
 by the assurance, that no visitations of paiu 
 are permitted, except for good." 
 
 " We know that ; for we cannot believe in a 
 wise and good Providence, and think differently. 
 But, pain is ever grievous to be borne ; and to 
 sea those we love compelled to suffer pain, is 
 harder than to bear it ourselves." 
 
 " Not one of Marion's young friends have 
 been to see her,' said the mother; '' yet there
 
 EFFECTS. 1 I 1 
 
 were many to visit her and profess the warmest 
 affection but a few short months ago. Is it 
 possible for her not to feel this change ? And 
 may it not be that this entire separation from 
 companions whom she loved, is the cause of 
 her depressed feelings ?" 
 
 " It may be to some extent. But to my 
 mind it is plain that some deeper cause affects 
 her spirits." 
 
 " And if the cause be what you suppose, time 
 alone can heal it." 
 
 " And healing, may leave a disfiguring 
 wound. Ah, me ! it grieves me to the heart, 
 this visiting of my misfortunes upon my chil- 
 dren. Would to Heaven I could boar all the 
 consequences myself ! How light lighter than 
 a feather compared to the weight laid upon 
 me and mine, are the consequences of my fail- 
 ure upon each of my creditors ! And yet, 
 there are some of them who never meet me, 
 without seeking to make the weight I bear 
 heavier by a rebuking word or look ; or some- 
 thing to remind me that I have wronged them 
 out of a few hundred dollars. It may be that 
 I have, in my days of prosperity, suffered my- 
 self to feel and act towards an unfortunate 
 debtor as some of my creditors now act towards 
 me. If so, perhaps I ought not to complain
 
 112 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 But, if ever I bear that relation again towards 
 the unfortunate, I will try not to add a single 
 drop to the bitterness of a cup already too 
 Heavily drugged." 
 
 The young man who had awakened an inte- 
 rest in the heart of Marion, was named Edwaid 
 Manning. He was a relative of Everton, the 
 individual who was so angry at Coleman on 
 account of the loss he had sustained through 
 his failure in business. Manning had not been 
 very intimate with Marion, although he had 
 called upon her several times at her father's 
 house, and met her frequently in company. 
 He had always liked her; and had never passed 
 an hour in her company without seeing some 
 trait of character that had charmed him for its 
 truth, -beauty, or sweet simplicity. But, he had 
 never approached her as a lover ; had never, 
 in any way, sought to interest her feelings. 
 After her father's failure and the retiring of the 
 family from the circle of wealth and fashion 
 they had once graced, Manning no longer met 
 the lovely maiden, although she did not, en- 
 tirely, pass from his thoughts. 
 
 Everton, who was the uncle of Manning, 
 frequently spoke of Coleman in his presence, 
 about the time of the failure, in terms of strong 
 reprehension ; and, without looking very closely
 
 NOBLE SELF-DEVOTION. 113 
 
 into the affair, the nephew took it for granted 
 that Coleraan had not acted in an honorable 
 manner. For the sake of Marion, he felt some 
 regret that it was so. 
 
 How little hope there was for the weary- 
 hearted maiden, is apparent from what has 
 been written. Manning was not a lover, and 
 had never thought of becoming one. Had the' 
 lovely girl remained in the old place, and 
 among her old friends for a little while longer, 
 his heart might have yielded to the power of 
 her charms. But as it was, Marion was little 
 more to him than a pleasant friend, the parting 
 from which caused only a few regrets. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 NOBLE SELF DEVOTION. 
 
 Ai soon as the arrangement spoken of in a 
 preceding chapter had been made, Mr. Cole- 
 man re-commenced business, though in a small 
 way, trusting that Everton would not moles* 
 him until he could get in a position to sustain 
 10*
 
 114 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 himself. In order, however, to prevent the 
 goods he might purchase from others on credit, 
 as well as the little stock his own small capital 
 could procure, from being seized and sold at 
 any moment by his still angry creditor, he 
 confessed a judgment in favor of three or four 
 of his friends from whom he purchased goods, 
 in order to give them the fullest legal control 
 over every thing, if Everton commenced pro- 
 ceedings against him. 
 
 But the fact that Everton maintained a 
 hostile attitude, prevented a number of those 
 with whom he would have been glad to make 
 small bills, from selling him goods. They were 
 afraid to -un any risks. His business, in con- 
 sequence v continued to be light, and the pro- 
 ceeds barely sufficient, even with the strictest 
 economy, to meet the wants of his family. 
 
 The time for which Mr. Coleman had paid 
 for his son's instruction at College was about 
 expiring, and, contrary to his hopes and wishes, 
 it was plain that Henry would have to come 
 home. 
 
 " There is scarcely any sacrifice I would not 
 make to keep that boy where he is," he said, 
 one evening, when they were speaking on the 
 Bubject. " One with his talent, should havo
 
 NJBLE SELF-DEVOTION. lit) 
 
 every opportunity ; but, alas ! it is out of my 
 power to give him any further advantages. He 
 must come home." 
 
 " It grieves me to think of it," replied Mrs. 
 Coleman. " But it can't be helped. The 
 expense, it is not in our power to bear." 
 
 " It will go hard with the poor boy. To fine 
 talent, he adds ambition. He looks forward to 
 a brilliant career to a high place. What 
 effect the disappointment may have upon him, 
 none can tell. It would have been far better 
 if he had never gone to College : if he had, a 
 year ago, been put to business." 
 
 " Let us not imagine the worst," said the 
 mother, while tears came into her eyes. " We 
 must do to the utmost of our ability for our 
 children : and then trust that all will come out 
 right." 
 
 During the period of thoughtful silence that 
 followed this conversation, Marion left the room 
 and retired to her own chamber. She had all 
 a sister's fervent and devoted love for her 
 brother. What her father and mother said, 
 filled her with exquisite pain. How earnestly 
 did her own heart respond to the sentiment of 
 her father, who alledged that there was scarce- 
 ly any sacrifice he would not make in order to 
 continue to Henry the advantages he now en
 
 lib DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 joyed But the same hopelessness that they 
 felt, oppressed her heart, and caused her tc 
 vrcep bitterly for a long time. Then her 
 thoughts became active, and she mused and 
 pondered over one suggestion and another that 
 came into her mind, as she sat by her "window, 
 and looked out upon the sky over which the 
 moon had thrown a soft light. Thus she sat 
 and mused until long after every other member 
 of the family had retired to rest, when, she at 
 last sought her pillow, her active mind kept her 
 awake for hours. 
 
 In the morning, her parents observed a change 
 in the expression of her countenance. Her 
 cheeks were slightly flushed, her lips had a firm 
 compression, and there was an earnest, steady 
 look about her eyes that was .unusual. They 
 again conversed about Henry, and Mr. Coleman 
 said he should write in a day or two for him to 
 come home. But Marion made no remark on 
 the subject. 
 
 Shortly after breakfast, Marion came down 
 from her room, dressed to go out. Mrs. Cole- 
 man looked surprised at so unusual a circum- 
 stance, and, naturally, asked where she was 
 going. This question the daughter did not 
 answer directly, but partly evaded it That 
 something of more than usual interest wn on
 
 NOBLE SELF-DEVOTION. 117 
 
 her mind the mother saw, but did not urge her 
 to say what it was. 
 
 The purpose that Marion had in view appear- 
 ed to be well determined in her mind, for, on 
 leaving home, she walked rapidly toward that 
 part of the town in which she had formerly 
 lived. Pausing, at last, before a handsome 
 house, she ascended the steps, and rang at the 
 street door. On being admitted, she gave the 
 servant her name, and was shown into the par- 
 lor. In a few minutes, a lady entered, and 
 taking her hand, said, in a tone of kindness and 
 interest, 
 
 " My dear Miss Coleman ! how do you do ? 
 I am glad to meet you." 
 
 Marion had not expected a cordial welcoming 
 like this from one of her old and fashionable 
 friends ; and it took her so much by surprise, 
 that when she attempted to reply, her quivering 
 lips refused to give her utterance. 
 
 " Sit down, dear," said the lady, kindly, 
 seeing that Marion, who had arisen on her en- 
 trance, was so much disturbed. " Sit down 
 Why have you not been to see me before. I 
 have thought of you often, very often ; and have 
 several times been on the eve of trying to look 
 you up. Come, take off your things ; and notf 
 that you are here, let us have a long talk."
 
 118 DEBTOR ANr CREDITOR. 
 
 U No, I thank you, Mrs. Henderson," re- 
 turned Marion, regaining, to some extent, her 
 self-possession. " I cannot stay but a little 
 while. I only wanted to see you on a particu- 
 lar subject." 
 
 And again Marion's voice trembled. 
 " My young friend," said the lady, affec- 
 tionately, as she took hold of her bonnet strings 
 in a familiar way and untying them ; " having 
 got you here, I do not intend letting you run 
 away in a minute. You know I am your friend. 
 If you have anything to say to me, say it fully 
 and freely." 
 
 As Mrs. Henderson uttered the last sen- 
 tence, she removed the bonnet of Marion, and 
 the young girl drooped forward, and hid her 
 tearful face against her. 
 
 In a little while she became composed, and 
 looking up, said, in a voice still tremulous 
 
 " Your kindness, dear Madam, has touched 
 my heart Forgive me that I cannot hide tho 
 emotions with which it is swelling. It is months 
 since my father's misfortunes removed us from 
 fcmong our former friends, and since that time, 
 yours is the kindest, and almost the only one of 
 the old faces that has looked upon me, ^idyour 
 voice the only one that has come to my ears 
 laden with old affections."
 
 NOBLE SELF-DfiVOTION. 119 
 
 *' Can this bo possible, my young friend !" said 
 Airs. Henderson. " Has the desertion, then, 
 been so complete ? But am I less to blame 
 than others ? No, I am not. Still, Marion, 
 I did not cease to think of you. The truth is, 
 I did not know to what part of the town you 
 had removed. Though I will not offer that as 
 an excuse, for I might easily have obtained that 
 information if I had sought to do so. Forgive 
 the neglect, and rest assured that it did not 
 proceed from my heart. Though you have 
 suffered misfortune, are you not still the same 
 and as worthy of my regard as ever. And I 
 know you have still many friends in the old 
 circle who will be glad to see you again. But 
 how is your excellent mother ?" 
 
 " She is well very well." 
 
 " And how docs she bear the severe reverse 
 with which you have been visited?" 
 
 " She bears it like a true woman," replied 
 Marion, " patiently and hopefully." 
 
 " Like a true woman as she is. I have been 
 greatly to blame for not having, long ago, 
 sought her out in her retirement. When she 
 was with us, I always looked upon her as one of 
 the best of us Tell her that I will be to sen 
 her very soon."
 
 120 DEUTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 " Thank you, in her name," said Marion 
 " She will appreciate the kindness." 
 
 " And now, my young friend, say to me 
 freely, what you came to say. If in anything 
 I can serve you, to do so will be one of the 
 pleasantest acts of my life." 
 
 After a few moments' silence, Marion said 
 
 " I cannot tell you, my dear madam, how much 
 your kindness touches me. I did not expect 
 to be received so warmly, even by you, towards 
 whom, permit me to say, my thoughts have 
 often turned, while my heart has felt warmer 
 as your face came distinctly before my mind. 
 But, as all the rest have been, so I expected to 
 find you, too, changed and cold." 
 
 " Do not say, Marion, that all have changed 
 I know that it is not so. But the fear lest a visit 
 to your new and humble home might seem an in- 
 trusion and be unwelcome, I am sure has kept 
 many an old friend who would have been glad to 
 grasp your hand again, from coming to see you. 
 Something of this feeling has been in my own 
 mind. It is wrong, I know, to let such a feel- 
 ing influence us ; but little impulses and feel- 
 ings often interfere with the doing of things from 
 which our own hearts would receive a high 
 gratification The neglect of those who falJ
 
 NOBLE SELF-DEVOTION. 121 
 
 rnto advevsity docs not always arise from pride 
 or indifference in their old friends. They 
 much oftener think of them with heart-warm 
 sympathy, than with coldness. As for you and 
 your family I know that a kind and generous 
 feeling prevails." 
 
 " It may be so, Mrs. Henderson," returned 
 Marion ; " but it is hard for us to believe it, 
 when there comes no token of kind remem- 
 brance. The sufferer, in his pain, is very apt 
 to think that none but those who express their 
 feelings, sympathize with him." 
 
 " And yet, your own experience, Marion, 
 will tell you that this is not so. That, often 
 the warmest sympathies are felt, where, from 
 some cause or other, there is no expression. 
 1 do not mean to justify the want of expression, 
 but only speak of it as a fact." 
 
 " I acknowledge the truth of what you say," 
 replied Marion, " and am now less willing than 
 before to attribute the neglect we have experi- 
 enced to indifference in every instance. But, 
 Mrs. Henderson, let me speak on the subject 
 of my errand, and I will speak the more freely 
 now that you meet me in such a generous spirit. 
 My brother Henry, who is in his eighteenth 
 year, was at college when my father's circum- 
 stances became reduced, and has remained 
 11
 
 122 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 there since, an advance of six months having 
 been paid shortly before our troubles came so 
 suddenly upon us But father is not able to 
 meet, any longer, the heavy expense attendant 
 upon a college course ; and it has been deter- 
 mined to bring Henry home and put him in a 
 store in order to learn some business. Henry 
 is a young man of good talents, and with the 
 advantages of a liberal and thorough education, 
 would, I am sure, rise as a man, into a position 
 of eminence and usefulness. The bent of his 
 mind is decidedly literary, and in one of the 
 learned professions towards which we have all 
 looked, he would not fail to distinguish him- 
 self. To take him from college and put him 
 into a store, under these circumstances, would 
 be to discourage him completely, and per- 
 haps do him an injury from which his mind 
 would never recover. The thought of this has 
 made me very unhappy. For a long time I 
 lay awake last night, thinking about it, and 
 finally came to the conclusion that it was 
 clearly my duty to make an effort to keep him 
 where he is." 
 
 " But, my dear Marion," said Mrs. Hender- 
 son, " what can you do ?" 
 
 " What others have done. I have read of 
 young ladies, who, on sinking from affluence
 
 NOBLE SELF-DEVOTION. 123 
 
 to poverty, have turned to good account the 
 education they possessed, and by earnest and 
 well applied efforts, saved a parent or others 
 from want. I have a good education, and I 
 believe can use it." 
 
 There was a flush of generous enthusiasm 
 upon the face of the ardent girl as she spoke. 
 
 " What can you dor" asked her auditor. 
 
 " I heard you, about a year ago," replied 
 Marion, speaking now with some hesitation, 
 " say, that if you could get a person who suited 
 you, in every respect, as a governess for your 
 children, you would take her." 
 
 " I did say so," was the prompt answer ; 
 " and are you, Marion, willing to assume so 
 responsible and arduous a task ?" 
 
 " To give my brother the advantages of 
 education, which to him are so all-important, 
 I would do anything that 1 dared do. With 
 such an end in view, labor would be sweet." 
 
 " My excellent young friend," said Mrs. 
 Henderson, speaking with a good deal of emo- 
 tion, " you propose to yourself a sacrifice ; but 
 it is a noble one. The fire of adversity is re- 
 vealing the pure gold of your character. To 
 Lave one like you for the governess and exem- 
 plar of my children, I would esteem a blessing
 
 124 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 in my household. And you arc- really in earnest 
 about this, Marion r" 
 
 But Mar-ion could not reply. These intima- 
 tions that her petition was favorably received, 
 overcame her. Her lips moved, but she had 
 no power of utterance. Tears came to her 
 relief, and she wept again freely. 
 
 " And you are really in earnest ?" said Mrs 
 Henderson, after Marion had become composed. 
 
 " Oh yes, ma'am. Have I not the strongest 
 reasons for being in earnest ? But you have 
 not replied definitely to what I said. Do you 
 still desire to have a governess for your chil- 
 dren ?" 
 
 " I do, as I said, long ago, if I can find the 
 right person." 
 
 " Will I not suit you ?" 
 
 " Yes, Marion, in every way. Though I 
 can scarcely realize the fact that you are to 
 come into niy house in the capacity of a gover- 
 ness. But if you will come, you shall be the 
 children's preceptor and the mother's friend 
 and equal." 
 
 " Oh how happy you have made me," said 
 Marion, in a low trembling voice. 
 
 " Does your mother know of this ?" inquired 
 Mrs. Henderson.
 
 NOBLE SELF-DEVOTION. 125 
 
 "Oh no!" 
 
 " Will she and your father consent to this 
 Arrangement ?" 
 
 " In order to secure so great a benefit to 
 Henry, they cannot refuse their consent." 
 
 " Will you come and see me to-morrow ?" 
 
 "I will." 
 
 " In the mean time I will converse with my 
 husband, and fix upon the compensation we 
 feel willing to make : and do you confer with 
 your parents." 
 
 When Marion left the house of. this kind 
 friend, her heart was bounding with a deep joy. 
 In the wilderness and desert place a spring had 
 gushed forth, and she was refreshing her spirit 
 with draughts of its cool refreshing water. 
 
 On the next day she called upon Mrs. Hen- 
 derson again, and was received with a kind- 
 ness and cordiality that was truly grateful. 
 
 " Have you conversed with your father and 
 mother on the subject we talked of yesterday ?" 
 p.he asked, soon after Marion came in. 
 
 " I have," was* replied. 
 
 " And did they consent to the proposed ar- 
 rangement ?" 
 
 " Not for some time. My father's ' No' waa 
 particularly emphatic. He seemed deeply hurt 
 at the thought. But I argued the matter as 
 11*
 
 126 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 earnestly as I could, and plead the cause of 
 Henry so eloquently for my heart was in the 
 matter that he at length yielded ; but seemed 
 broken down and distressed at the stern features 
 of a lot that compelled his daughter, in whom he 
 feels the natural pride of a parent, to go out 
 from home and give her labor for hire. I feel 
 pained for him. But he does not look at the 
 matter right. To me it will be a labor of love, 
 not a wearisome task." 
 
 " I know how your father must feel. I know 
 how I would feel," said the lady. " But we 
 will try and make your stay in our house as 
 little painful to both yourself and parents as 
 possible. Since I saw you I have talked the 
 matter over with my husband, and he is fully 
 as much pleased at the contemplated arrange- 
 ment as I am. And now, we will speak of the 
 terms ; and if you are pleased with them, you 
 can come into our family and irake one of 
 us whenever you are prepared to do so. My 
 husband proposes to pay every expense of in- 
 struction, boarding and clothing, required to 
 keep your brother at college, by way of com- 
 pensation for your services as the governess of 
 our children ; and to do this until his full 
 course is completed. Will that do ?" 
 
 u It is more, much more than I expected,"
 
 NOBLE SELF-DEVOTION. 127 
 
 replied Marion. " Of the gratitude I feel, I 
 will not attempt an expression. It oppresses 
 my heart." 
 
 " The obligation, I trust, will be mutual 
 If you are satisfied with the arrangement, I am 
 very sure that we shall not regret it." 
 
 In less than a week from that time, Marion 
 found a home in the family of Mrs. Henderson, 
 and was treated with all the kindness and con- 
 sideration of a friend and equal. The children 
 soon learned to respect and love her, for she 
 moved before them with so much dignity and 
 order, softened by gentleness and true affec- 
 tion, that it was impossible for them to feel for 
 her any other sentiments. As Mrs. Hender- 
 son had said she would be, she proved a bless- 
 ing in the house. 
 
 But there was one thing that was not ac- 
 cording to the wishes of this lady. She was 
 not able to induce Marion, when they had com- 
 pany, to appear among them. On such occa- 
 sions she preferred retiring to her own room, 
 or remaining with the children. It was in vain 
 that Mrs. Henderson argued with and entreated 
 her. Marion was firm. 
 
 "It is better much better " she would 
 say, " for me to keep in my own place. There 
 are those in your circle who cannot regard ma
 
 128 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 as you do ; but who will repulse me because I 
 do not stand upon the social plane they occupy 
 And I wish to avoid everything of this kind. 
 To others, I am only a governess in your fa- 
 mily ; and for me to attempt to go beyond this, 
 would be felt and repulsed as an intrusion." 
 
 It pained Mrs. Henderson to hear Marion 
 speak in this way, and she argued against her 
 with all the eloquence she could command. 
 But, nothing she said, in the least moved the 
 noble-spirited girl from her resolution. Her 
 feelings were with her judgment, and the two 
 governed her actions. 
 
 At the particular and earnest request of Ma- 
 rion, her brother was not informed of what she 
 had done. She feared, and she was right in 
 her fear, that, were he to know the truth, he 
 would not remain at College a day. His vaca- 
 tions were spent at home, and, during the pe- 
 riod, Marion was at home also ; and not the 
 first suspicion of what she was doing ever cross- 
 ed his mind. Mr. and Mrs. Henderson ap- 
 preciating the feeling that influenced Marion, 
 seconded her views, and, with great propriety 
 and delicacy, placed a fund at her disposal, 
 upon which she could draw whenever it waa 
 necessary to send money or pay bills for her 
 brother. In return for such generous kind-
 
 CHANGE IN AFFAIRS. 129 
 
 ness, she devoted herself with untirir^ assidu- 
 ity to their children, and fully repaid ttcin for 
 all 
 
 CHAPTER X, 
 
 SOME CHANGE IN THE ASPECT OF AFF, 'RS. 
 
 IN the final settlement of Mr. Coleman's af- 
 fairs, the dividend to the creditors was little 
 beyond what had been expected. It exceeded 
 fifty per cent, by only a small amount. 
 
 In his new business, after the means of sup- 
 porting Henry at College was secured, things 
 began to look a little more cheerful. There 
 was a steady improvement, and the promise of 
 increased profits. But the position of anta- 
 gonism assumed by Everton, and the remem- 
 brance of his threat, were constant sources of 
 anxiety. Scarcely a day passed, that he did 
 not feel in dread of seeing an officer enter with 
 a writ. Then, there was the fact, that every 
 month that passed brought nearer the time of 
 payment to Turner, without showing am in- 
 crease of profits adequate to the demand to 
 come upon him.
 
 130 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 These remaining claims against Coleman 
 were felt to be a millstone about his neck. 
 Sometimes, in gloomy and desponding states, 
 created by the fear of disastrous consequences 
 that might come at any moment when he be- 
 gan to -walk a little erect again, he felt like 
 giving up 
 
 " Why should I struggle on," he would say 
 to himself, when these moods of mind oppressed 
 him, " to have my feet tripped up again, all 
 my fondly cherished prospects ruined, and 
 others, it may be, involved in losses." 
 
 But these states would pass away ; and be- 
 coming more cheerful, Coleman would press on 
 in his business with an energy that promised 
 good success. 
 
 At the end of a year, Coleman found that 
 he had done very well on his limited means. 
 Besides supporting his family, he had been able 
 to add a little to his original capital in trade ; 
 and the promise was very fair for an increase of 
 at least fifty per cent, in all his operations dur- 
 ing the ensuing twelve months. 
 
 Marion still remained an inmate of Mr. 
 Henderson's family, beloved and esteemed by 
 every member of it ; and Henry was still pro- 
 secuting his studies at College. 
 
 Turner, in the mean time, had not done so
 
 CHANGE IN AFFAIRS 131 
 
 srell. Direct losses and bad operations, had 
 made rather serious work with his business, and 
 he began to be hard pressed for money. One 
 day, he took up the three notes of a thousand 
 dollars each, bearing interest from date, which 
 he had received from Colcman, and began to 
 turn over in his mind the possibility of using 
 them in some way. While thinking upon the 
 subject, he remembered the bitterness with 
 which Everton had spoken against Coleman, 
 and his threat to punish him if he should ever 
 get him into his power. At the same time it 
 occurred to him that he might be able to make 
 such representations to Everton as would in- 
 duce him to buy the notes at a heavy dis- 
 count. So, with this in his mind he went off to 
 see him ; when the following interview took 
 place 
 
 " You are aware, I suppose," said Turner, 
 "that our old friend Coleman is doing very 
 well again." 
 
 " Ah ! is that so ?" replied Everton, mani- 
 festing both surprise and pleasure. " I knew 
 he was going on again, but had not learned 
 anything touching his prospects in busi- 
 ness." 
 
 " I am told by those wLo know," said Tur- 
 ner , u that his affaire ire improving steadily,
 
 132 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 and that there is a good chance of Lis being on 
 his feet again, in a few years, and better ofl 
 than ever." 
 
 " Is there, indeed ! Blast him ! Then I'll 
 have a cut at him pretty soon. I'll never for- 
 give him for the way in which he tricked me 
 out of about seven thousand dollar? . He had 
 the cool impudence to try to get me to sign 
 off; but his efforts proved a failure. Release 
 him ! Never !" 
 
 " He tried me, in the same way," said Tur- 
 ner, " but I never released a man in my life, 
 and never will. It seems to me to be the 
 coolest thing in the world, for a fellow who 
 owes you a few thousands of dollars, to come 
 and ask you to sign off all right, title, and claim 
 to the debt, now, henceforth, and for ever. I 
 never will listen to any such proposition. I 
 will give a debtor liberal time to recover him- 
 self. After he has done that, I expect him to 
 pay what he owes me. I'll never ask a man to 
 sign off his claim against me." 
 
 " Nor will I. But as for this fellow, Cole 
 man, I have a particular grudge against him, 
 and intend getting satisfaction the moment I 
 think he has gathered enough together to meet 
 my demand." 
 
 Turner knew, very well, that Everton would
 
 CHANGE IN AFFAIRS 133 
 
 fail in his expectations of getting his demand 
 satisfied, if he used stringent measures with 
 Coleman ; for, he was aware that everything 
 he had was protected by judgments, which 
 would be entered up the moment proceedings 
 were commenced against him. But this fact 
 he chose to keep to himself. 
 
 " In that case," he said, " you will run him 
 to the wall before the notes I hold have ma- 
 tured, which will not be within two, three, and 
 four years." 
 
 " I have no wish to injure you, Mr. Tur- 
 ner," replied Everton, and, if I think every- 
 thing is going on safely, I will not press mat- 
 ters. My claim will be for principal and 
 interest both, and I think the investment a 
 very good one, now that all his old creditors 
 but you and I have signed off." 
 
 " I wish you would buy his notes," said 
 Turner, coming direct to the subject of his 
 visit. " I find myself, just now, with heavy 
 payments to make, and would like very much 
 to turn this paper into cash. I am willing to 
 ssll it at a bargain. These notes, with inte- 
 rest, added to your own claim, also bearing 
 interest, will, in about four years from this 
 time, when he is fairly going again, make the 
 Bum of nearly thirteen thousand dollars ; an i 
 13
 
 134 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 enable you to sweep him away, root and branch, 
 if you feel so disposed." 
 
 " What is your claim ?" asked Everton. 
 
 " Three thousand dollars, in notes of ono 
 thousand each, at three, four, and five years, 
 bearing interest. One year has already ex- 
 pired." 
 
 " For what will you sell me these notes ?" 
 
 " The year's interest that has already ac- 
 crued, makes the amount of the debt at this 
 time three thousand, one hundred and eighty 
 dollars. I will take twenty-five hundred dol- 
 lars for the whole." 
 
 Everton mused awhile, and then said : 
 
 " You think he is going on prosperously ?" 
 
 "I know it." 
 
 " And that, by the time the notes mature, ho 
 will be perfectly able to pay them :" 
 
 " I have not the smallest doubt in the world' 
 and, if I were not hard pressed for money, 
 would not think of parting with the claim." 
 
 " Very well. I will take the notes ; but on 
 slightly different terms from those you offer. 
 I haven't two thousand dollars in cash to spare ; 
 and, even if I had, I would not feel willing to 
 advance money on such security, and at so long 
 a time. But I will give you my notes for two 
 thousand dollars, at two, three, and four years
 
 CHANGE IN AFFAIRS. 135 
 
 to fall due throe or four days after the notes of 
 Coleman fall due. You can get them dis- 
 counted easily enough.'' 
 
 Turner shook his head at this proposition 
 It was so different from what he had made, 
 that, at the first presentation thereof, he could 
 not think of it for a moment. 
 
 " It's the best ! can do," said Everton. 
 
 " I will think about it, and see you this 
 afternoon." 
 
 " Very well. If that operation suits you, it 
 can be made. But it's the best you can do 
 with me." 
 
 In the afternoon, Turner called upon Ever- 
 ton, and the exchange of notes took place. 
 After trying for a week to get the paper of 
 Everton discounted at anything like fair rates, 
 he finally sold them at a discount of fifty per 
 cent, on the whole amount. That is, he got 
 one thousand dollars for his claim against 
 Coleman of three thousand. 
 
 " Well," he said, in seeking to console him- 
 self, " I've got a thousand dollars by holding 
 on to Coleman, which I would not have received 
 if I had released him. So far I have gained, in 
 every case, by my system. Others may sign 
 off to everybody if they like to do so, but my 
 way is to sign off to nobody."
 
 136 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 During the second year, Mr. Coleman's 
 business went on steadily improving, and in a 
 ratio considerably beyond his expectations. Ho 
 was gaining ground rapidly. But he lived in 
 constant fear of being met by the claim oi 
 Evcrton, and knocked down again ; and failed 
 to take advantage of many opportunities of 
 profit, lest others, who were ready to extend 
 him greater facilities than he had, should be 
 thrown into a loss by the breaking up of his 
 business, if his creditor commenced legal pro- 
 ceedings against him. But for this obstruction 
 in his way, he would have recovered himself 
 rapidly. As it was, his progress was slow, yet 
 steady and encouraging. 
 
 In the case of Turner, affairs continued to 
 assume a discouraging aspect. He met with 
 still heavier losses, and made more serious 
 miscalculations than he had made in the year 
 before. For a greater part of the time he was 
 hard pressed for money, and in the hands of 
 " shavers" almost constantly. What they 
 drained from him was nearly equal to the profit 
 of the whole year's business. 
 
 At length, the first note given by Coleman 
 to Turner fell due, and he was not in a condi- 
 tion to lift it without making a sacrifice. As the 
 note had been extorted from him at a time when
 
 CHANGE IN AFFAIRS. 137 
 
 ho could not help himself, and as it gave to 
 Turner an undue advantage over the other 
 creditors ; and as the payment of it would take 
 that much from his business and be a serious 
 drawback upon him, Coleman, under the advice 
 of his friends, gave notice that he could not 
 take it up. Turner called upon him imme- 
 diately, and said 
 
 " I cannot do anything in this matter. The 
 note is out of my hands." 
 
 " That does not alter the case," replied 
 Coleman, firmly. " You forced me to give the 
 note ; and now that it is due, I do not feel 
 myself able to take it up." 
 
 " You will have to take it up, for I have not 
 the slightest control over it." 
 
 " No. As I have said, so I will do. The 
 note can lie over or not, just as you like," re- 
 plied Coleman. " If you have sold it, my 
 advice to you is to prepare yourself to lift it, 
 and thereby save your credit. It will not hurt 
 mine to let it remain unpaid, for all who credit 
 me understand the matter, and I act under 
 their advice. And now I give you warning, 
 that it is my intention to resist the payment of 
 all these notes. It is not right- that you should 
 be paid and others get nothing. When I have 
 something to divide, I wish to do it equally 
 12*
 
 138 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 among all. That is just. And, if I can help 
 it, I do not mean to be forced to act diffij 
 rently." 
 
 Turner made strong threats of what he -would 
 do, but failed to mention the fact that Everton 
 held the note. Had he done so, he would, 
 probably, have alarmed Coleman, and brought 
 him to terms. But the means he used in order 
 to effect his purpose failed. The note was 
 protested, and he had to lift it at a time when 
 he was harassed almost to death with demands 
 for money in his regular business. 
 
 The fact that Coleman let this note lie over, 
 was satisfactory proof to the mind of Everton, 
 that he vas not doing as well as Turner had 
 represented, and that it would be no use for 
 him to press his large claim yet. It so hap- 
 pened that he mentioned to some one the fact 
 that he held two more notes of Coleman's, 
 bought from Turner, and that he did not mean 
 to press for his own claim until after they fell 
 due. This information passed from one to 
 another until it came to Mr. Coleman's ears, 
 and gave him to understand exactly what he 
 had to depend upon. It was a great relief to 
 his mind, for it ensured him a freedom from 
 molestation for at least two years to come. 
 
 As for Turner, Coleman had settled with hig
 
 MARION S REWARD 13i> 
 
 friends the mode of quieting him before he 
 determined not to lift the note he had given 
 three years before. He was aware that hia 
 persecuting and hard creditor was himself in a 
 position to need friends, and that there were 
 those who were granting him large business 
 favors, whose word to him, just at that time, 
 would have almost the weight of a command. 
 These persons were old creditors of his, who 
 had stood by him in his new efforts to get upon 
 his feet again ; and they had advised him to do 
 as he had done. Their influence was not mis- 
 calculated. Turner called often upon Coleman 
 and threatened a great deal, but did not com- 
 mence a suit. He had good and sufficient 
 reasons for not doing so. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MARION'S REWARD. 
 
 DURING the three years that had elapsed, 
 Marion continued an inmate of Mr. Hender- 
 son's family, still loved and respected by all 
 who had an opportunity to know the excellen-
 
 140 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 ccs of her character. As at first, she kept 
 herself secluded. It was all in vain that Mrs. 
 Henderson urged her to meet her friends in the 
 parlor ; only in a few instances had she con- 
 sented to do so. On several occasions there 
 had been parties in the house, and most ol 
 those who attended were old friends and ac- 
 quaintances of Marion ; but she could not bo 
 induced to make one of the company. 
 
 " It is best for me to keep in my own 
 place," she generally replied to Mrs. Hender- 
 son, when that lady urged her to come out of 
 her seclusion. " I will save my own feelings, 
 and perhaps the feelings of others." 
 
 The collegiate course of Henry Colemai. 
 having come to its end, he returned home at 
 the age of twenty-one years, bringing with him 
 the highest and most flattering testimonials 
 from the Faculty. It was not till then that he 
 became aware of the great sacrifice his sister 
 had made, and of the debt of gratitude he owed 
 her. He was deeply affected when he was told 
 the truth affected even to tears. 
 
 "It is a benefit obtained at too dear a 
 price," he said to his father and mother, when 
 they related the touching history of Marion's 
 self-devotion. " Oh ! if I had dreamed of this, 
 the college walls would not have held me an
 
 MAR. OX'S REWARD. 141 
 
 hour. Can I ever repay her ? No ! no ! 
 What she has done admits of no valuation. 
 Why did you let her do it ? It was wrong." 
 
 "No, my son," replied Mr. Coleman, in a 
 calm voice. " It was not wrong, as the sequel, 
 I trust, will prove. But her clear reasoning 
 lucid from pure affection compelled me to see 
 with her. Your education, it is true, has cost 
 a great price how great, we may never be able 
 to estimate. Let this thought stimulate you to 
 make the best and noblest use of it in your 
 power. And I know you will. The brother 
 of such a sister, can never aim at a low 
 mark." 
 
 Just then Marion came into the room. 
 
 " Dear sister !" said the young man, in a 
 quivering voice, " I have just heard all." 
 
 He could find utterance for no more. But 
 he drew his arms around her neck, pressed his 
 lips fervently to her pure white brow, and laid 
 his wet cheek against hers. 
 
 In that moment, the self-devoted girl had a 
 full reward. 
 
 " May the blessing of Heaven go with you 
 until the latest hour of your life," said tlu: 
 young man, with deep fervor, as he at length 
 took his arms from his sister's neck, and looked,
 
 142. DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 with an earnest, loving, yet tearful smile, into 
 her face. 
 
 After a short period of deliberation, it wa? 
 determined that Henry should enter upon the 
 study of law, he expressing a decided preference 
 for it ; and he accordingly entered the office 
 of an eminent attorney. 
 
 As Mr. and Mrs. Henderson were far from 
 wishing to dispense with the services of Marion, 
 she continued in their family, though much 
 against the will of her brother. 
 
 Three or four years, in their passage, had 
 not failed to leave many of their foot prints on 
 the heart of Marion ; and, as what touches the 
 heart is reflected upon the face, her countenance 
 showed the marks of suffering. Hard as she 
 had striven to banish from her mind all thoughts 
 of Edward Manning, she had failed in her 
 efforts ; and though she had not once seen him 
 during that long period, his image was as dis- 
 tinct to her as if reflected upon her vision from 
 the surface of a mirror. This secret love was 
 wearing into her heart. But the pain it occa- 
 sioned there, had not so marked her counte- 
 nance with suffering as to mar its beauty. The 
 tone of feeling in her face, though pensive, was 
 full of interest to the oye of even the casual
 
 MARION'S R/.WARP 143 
 
 observer ; and lie who looked once, would 
 hardly fail to look upon it again twice seen, 
 it could never after be wholly forgotten. 
 
 A little while before nightfall one afternoon 
 it was nearly four years from the time tho 
 great change in Mr. Coleman's circumstances 
 had taken place Marion, released from tho 
 duties of the day, had gone down into the par- 
 lor, and was sitting at the window, looking out, 
 with a dreamy, listless feeling, upon the 
 passers by. She had not been there long, be- 
 fore a face presented itself that she bad not 
 seen except by the eyes of her spirit for years 
 It was that of Manning. He was passing, and 
 their eyes met. Involuntarily, the young man 
 paused for an instant, while a look of surprise 
 went over his face. Then slightly bowing, as 
 if half in doubt of Marion's identity, he parsed 
 out of sight. 
 
 The flushed face and strongly throbbing 
 heart of the young lady, as she rose and went 
 up quickly, to her room, indicated the effect of 
 this sudden appearance of one, the thought ol' 
 whom had been so long in her mind. When 
 the tea bell rung, she did not come down ; and 
 on being sent for, excused herself as not feel- 
 ing very well. On the next moruing, when she 
 appeared, as us-jal, ai the breakfast table, Mrs
 
 J44 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 Henderson could not help noticing a change in 
 the expression of her face, but said nothing to 
 iicr, except to enquire if she felt no better than 
 he did on the previous evening, and to urge 
 her not to weary herself with the children. 
 
 About eleven o'clock, that morning, Edward 
 Manning, who was well acquainted with Mrs. 
 F.snderson, called to see her, and, after sitting 
 for a short time, said 
 
 <l What young lady was that I saw at your 
 window last evening ?" 
 
 " At my window ." '' 
 
 a Yes, I was passing here just before night 
 fall, and saw a young lady with a verv sweet, 
 though subdued and pensive face, sitting at that 
 window. I am sure I have seen her before > Vut 
 cannot say where. I believe I dreamed about 
 her all last night. Who is she, Mrs. Hender- 
 son ?" 
 
 " You mean Marion Colenian, I presume." 
 
 The young man looked surprised. 
 
 '-' Marion Coleman !" he repeated. " Oh 
 yes ! Now I remember. But I did not expect 
 to seo her in your house." 
 
 " Although she has been with us for nearl) 
 four years." 
 
 " Is it possible ! Hovr comes it, then, that i 
 have not seen her ; a all that time !"
 
 MARION'S REWARD. 145 
 
 " It is her own fault, She has secluded her- 
 self in spite of all our efforts to induce her to 
 appear in society." 
 
 " Why so ? None moved in society with a 
 sweeter grace than she did, when we had the 
 light of her beautiful presence." 
 
 " I know. But you are aware of her father's 
 misfortunes." 
 
 " Oh yes. But I do not understand why she 
 is an inmate of your family. Her father is still 
 living." 
 
 " Let me tell you the cause," said Mrs. Hen 
 derson. " And when you have heard what 1 
 am going to relate, I am sure you will be filled 
 with surprise and admiration. She is living in 
 my family as the governess of my children." 
 
 " She is?" 
 
 " Yes. And now let me tell you under what 
 peculiar and interesting circumstances. At th<; 
 time of her father's failure, her brother Henry, 
 a young man of promising talents, had boon a 
 short time at College. The total destruction 
 of Mr. Coleman's business deprived him of the 
 means of keeping his son at Yale, and it was 
 reluctantly determined that he must come home. 
 To prevent this, Marion, of her own free will, 
 and without consulting her parents, resolved 
 to make use of the education she had received 
 13
 
 146 DEBTOR AND CKEDITOR 
 
 and of the abilities she possessed as a means of 
 continuing to her brother the advantages he 
 was receiving. Having heard me express a 
 wish to have a governess for my children if I 
 could get one who suited me in every way, she 
 came to see me, and, after stating her views 
 and feelings, asked if I thought she would do. 
 I was deeply moved by the proposition, involv- 
 ing, as it did, so noble a sacrifice on the part of 
 this excellent sister. Gladly did I accept her 
 offer, and a blessing has she been in my family 
 I esteemed her before, but have loved her as a 
 friend and sister ever since. In return for her 
 service in my family, my husband met every 
 expense of her brother at College. Henry has 
 returned a thoroughly educated young man, one 
 of whom any sister might be proud." 
 
 " And did he know of all this ?" asked Man- 
 ning. 
 
 " No. Not even a whispering of the truth 
 reached his ears. He came home at vacation, 
 and found Marion ready to meet him, and she 
 remained at home until he went back. When 
 all was told him after he left College, it is said 
 that he was moved even to tears ; and avowed, 
 most solemnly, that had he known what his sis- 
 ter was doing, he would not have remained at 
 College *or a day.
 
 MARION'S REWARD 147 
 
 " Happy brother, to have such a sister !" 
 exclaimed Manning, warming with generous 
 enthusiasm. "Noble, noble girl!" he con- 
 tinned. " A worthy ornament of her sex, all 
 should join to do her honor. And she so 
 worthy to shine in a palace, hides herself away, 
 as if ashamed to come forth into the light. 
 Mrs. Henderson, years ago, when I used to meet 
 her, I was often led to remark upon the purity 
 and truth of her character. Then I esteemed 
 her highly as an interesting and pleasant com- 
 panion ; but, what you now say, presents her 
 to me in such a new light, that my esteem, 
 which has ever remained, changes at once into 
 love. The man who plucks that sweet flower 
 from the way side, and places it in his bosom, 
 breathes an atmosphere perfumed for ever." 
 
 " To one who knows her as well as I do, 
 Mr. Manning, your words do not sound strange- 
 ly. It is even as you say. Whoever is him- 
 self worthy to claim her hand, and can win her 
 heart, will be blest beyond the common lot of 
 
 man. 
 
 " The brief glance I took of her face, as 1 
 went by, last evening," said Manning, " left 
 an impression of sadness upon my mind. la 
 he not, happy ?" 
 
 u I would hardly like to say," replied Mrs-
 
 148 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 Henderson, " that she is unhappy. She is too 
 good, and too earnest in her love for others to 
 be unhappy. But, from long observation, I 
 am satisfied that there is some void in her 
 heart. I have thought, that, in her more pros- 
 perous days, an impression had been made upon 
 her affections ; and that the one who had 
 made it, turned from her when the shadow of 
 adversity fell upon her path." 
 
 " The man who, knowing her, could turn 
 away for this cause, is unworthy of her," said 
 Manning, with a strong emphasis on hi? 
 words. 
 
 " So I think. But the impression a woman's 
 heart receives, is hard to efface." 
 
 " And for years," said Manning, musingly. 
 " this lovely girl has hidden herself in your 
 family, and through that long period, faithfully 
 devoted herself to the task of imparting in- 
 struction to your children, in order to obtain 
 the means of educating her brother ! It is a 
 touching and beautiful instance of woman's un 
 selfish love. Strange that it should not have 
 been known !" 
 
 " And it was known to many." 
 
 " It never reached my ears. But, I know it 
 now, and if I do not profit by the knowledge, 
 it will not be altogether my fault. Mrs. Hen
 
 MARION'S REWARD. 149 
 
 derson, with your permission I will meet her 
 again." 
 
 " So far as I am concerned, there is no im- 
 pediment to your doing so. I wish to intro- 
 duce her to all my friends ; but she has met 
 but few, and they called specially to see her." 
 
 " If I come here this evening and ask to see 
 her, do you think she will be engaged ?" 
 
 " No. I presume not." 
 
 " Very well. I will come. Foil needn't 
 mention my name to her, until I call." 
 
 As here proposed, Manning called. Mrs. 
 Henderson went up into Marion's room where 
 she sat reading, and said to her with a smile 
 
 " There's a gentleman in the parlor. And 
 he has asked to see you." 
 
 " To see me !" returned Marion, the color 
 instantly coming to her cheeks. " Who is it ?" 
 
 " Mr. Manning. You remember him, do 
 you not ?" 
 
 The color faded as suddenly from the face of 
 the maiden. And her whole frame began to 
 tremble. 
 
 Mrs. Henderson was taken altogether by 
 surprise, to see so strange an effect follow from 
 this cause. 
 
 " Why, Marion !" she exclaimed. " What 
 ails yoa ? Why are you so disturbed :" 
 13*
 
 150 I2EB1.1R AND CREDITOR. 
 
 Marion was now struggling hard to control 
 ner feelings ; but some time passed before she 
 had sufficient command of herself to venture to 
 speak. She then said 
 
 " Are you certain he wishes to see me ?" 
 
 " He asked for you ; and I think that is very 
 good evidence." 
 
 Marion sat silent for a good while, still en- 
 deavoring to press down her feelings into quiet- 
 ude. 
 
 " Shall I tell him you will be down r" in- 
 quired Mrs. Henderson. 
 
 " No. I cannot see him to-night," replied 
 Marion, again showing a good deal of distur- 
 bance. 
 
 " Why not r" said this kind friend. 
 
 Marion lifted her eyes to her face, and Mrs. 
 Henderson saw that they were full of tears, and 
 yet had a light in them, that, to her, seemed 
 like the light of joy. For many seconds, Ma- 
 rion looked at her, and then burying her face 
 in her hands, sobbed, for a long time, passion- 
 ately. 
 
 A dim suspicion of what this meant, came 
 stealing into the mind of Mrs. Henderson, fill- 
 ing her with a new surprise. When Marion 
 had become again composed, she said to her 
 
 " So strange an exhibition of feeling, under,
 
 MARION'S BEWARD. 151 
 
 apparently, so inadequate a cause, cannot but 
 excite my wonder. You have proved me to 
 be your friend, Marion. You know how deeply 
 everything that affects you affects me. Con- 
 fide in me now, as you have before confided in 
 me. 1 have always seen that there has been 
 something on your heart, which you strove, but 
 in vain, to conceal. Do not conceal it from 
 me any longer." 
 
 But, it was some time before the shrinking 
 delicacy of the maiden's heart would permit her 
 lips to unfold, even to her to whom she had 
 half betrayed it, the secret that had lain in her 
 heart for years. When it was unfolded, the 
 recital was accompanied by many tears. 
 
 " Then why not see him, now that he has 
 called, after so long a time, to renew the friend- 
 ship of former years." 
 
 "Not to-night, Mrs. Henderson," replied 
 Marion. "Not to-night. I could not meet 
 him with the composure due both to jnyself 
 and to him. If I have been weak enough to 
 let my heart, unsought, be won, no betrayal of 
 the secret to him must occur." 
 
 " But, what can I say to him ?" 
 
 " You must excuse me in a way not to of- 
 fend him. It would be unjust both to him and 
 to me to let that occur. You a- ay say that, at
 
 152 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 any other time I will see him. But, under- 
 standing all that is in rny heart, Mrs. Hender- 
 son, you will know how best to excuse me. Do 
 it in your own way." 
 
 " I will, Marion," replied Mrs. Henderson, 
 now speaking in a changed and pleasant voice 
 " And you need not fear that he will be of- 
 fended." 
 
 She was moving away, when she paused, and 
 looking tenderly upon Marion, added 
 
 " But I must say one good word in your ear 
 to make your heart lighter. I know that you 
 have everything to hope." 
 
 And she turned away and left the room ; 
 not, however, until she had seen the quick 
 blood crimsoning the face of the girl her words 
 had made happy. 
 
 The particulars of what passed between Mrs. 
 Henderson and the young man we will not re- 
 late. The interview lasted for an hour ; and 
 when it closed, Manning understood fully what 
 was in the heart of Marion. To learn, that, 
 through the long years of her seclusion, she had 
 thought of him and loved him in spite of every 
 effort to turn from his image, affected him 
 deeply, and made him a lover at once. 
 
 " Tell her, that I will see her to-morrow 
 evening," said Manning, as he arose to go ;
 
 MARION'S REWARD. 153 
 
 " and tell her, also that my heart is fully 
 hers." 
 
 Mrs. Henderson did tell her this and a 
 good deal more ; at the recital of which Ma- 
 rion wept and smiled, by turns, like a wayward 
 child. 
 
 On the next evening Manning was to call. 
 When the word came that he was below, await- 
 ing her, Marion was but little calmer than she 
 had been on the night previous. But she was 
 happier. She descended with a fluttering 
 heart, entered the parlor, closed the door after 
 her, and was alone with the man whom she had 
 loved, hopelessly, for years. 
 
 An hour afterwards, Mrs. Henderson joined 
 them. She found them in earnest conversa- 
 tion, and noticed a little movement that fully 
 satisfied her that all was right. The movc- 
 msnt, was a withdrawal of a hand, by Ma- 
 rion, that had been lying on that of her com- 
 panion. 
 
 We need hardly say, that, during this hour, 
 the most tender confidence was established be- 
 tween Manning and the lovely girl. They 
 understood each other as fully as if they had 
 been lovers for years.
 
 154 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE OPERATION OF TURNER'S NO-RELEASE 
 SYSTEM. 
 
 THE second note given by Coleman to Tur- 
 ner was about falling due, when tho latter, 
 whose affairs had been getting in a worse and 
 worse condition, called upon the former and 
 inquired, with considerable anxiety, if he in- 
 tended lifting it. 
 
 " I certainly do not," was replied. 
 
 " You do not !" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Mr. Coleman, you must lift this note." 
 This was said with evident agitation. 
 
 " If I consulted my own feelings as your 
 debtor in the amount of a thousand dollars, 
 most cheerfully would I do it, Mr. Turner. 
 But in strict justice, I cannot pay you, who 
 held me bound to the uttermost farthing, when 
 I was prostrate and helpless, and let others, 
 who generously released me, go without a 
 penny. You may compel me by law to settle 
 the amount of this note ; but, not until you do 
 10, will you get a farthing, except as a prorala
 
 THE NO- RELEASE SYSTEM. 155 
 
 proportion, divided amongst all to whom I arc 
 indebted. The moment I can safely do so, I 
 will make such a dividend." 
 
 Turner became exceedingly disturbed at 
 this declaration. He replied, not angrily nor 
 threateningly, but rather imploringly. 
 
 " Mr. Coleman, for mercy's sake don't as- 
 sume this position with me now. The note is 
 out of my hands, and I am not in a condition to 
 lift it at this time." 
 
 " I am sorry for you, but cannot break my 
 resolution. If the note is out of your hands, of 
 course you have had the money for it, and, 
 after using it for a time, can now return it." 
 
 " As I live," replied Turner, " I do assure 
 you, that I only got one thousand dollars for 
 your three notes of a thousand each." 
 
 " That is, you got the loan of a thousand on 
 them as collateral ?" 
 
 " No. I parted with them entirely, and all 
 I realized in doing so was one thousand dollars, 
 which I have paid back in lifting the first note 
 that fell due. If I have to take up this one, I 
 will be the loser of a thousand dollars, besides 
 my whole claim against you." 
 
 ' I am sorry, Mr. Turner, very sorry, that, 
 through me, any man should lose a dollar," rfr-
 
 L56 DEBTCR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 plied Colernan. " But your present loss arises 
 from your own act, not mine. Had you spared 
 :ne, when others spared me, you would not 
 have fallen into this difficulty." 
 
 " I shall have to coerce matters, I see," said 
 Turner, changing his manner, on finding that 
 nothing was to be gained by persuasion. 
 
 " You cannot realize your money in any other 
 way," coolly returned Coleman. 
 
 " It is not honest," retorted the creditor. 
 
 " That matter I will settle with my own con- 
 science," was replied. 
 
 " You will not lift this note ?" 
 
 " No sir." 
 
 " Then I must only take my remedy." And 
 Turner departed. 
 
 On the day following the note fell due. It 
 was with the utmost difficulty that Turner 
 could meet his regular payments. To provide 
 for this was impossible. The note remain- 
 ed in bank at the hour of three, and was pro- 
 tested. 
 
 Everton immediately called upon Turner us 
 the endorser, to know what he was going to do. 
 
 " You must make Coleman pay it. He is 
 able enough," replied Turner. 
 
 a No sir. I look to you. I've got heav^
 
 THE NO-RELEASE SYSTEM. ?.l)7 
 
 enough claims against Colcman as it is. When 
 I come down upon him, it will be for more than 
 a thousand dollars." 
 
 " He can meet this and all you have against 
 him besides." 
 
 " That's neither here nor there, Mr. Tur- 
 ner. Enough that I look to you for payment." 
 
 " I have too much regular business paper to 
 lift, to take care of this endorsement now." 
 
 " Very well, sir," and Everton turned away 
 and left his store. 
 
 In a week an officer served a writ upon Tur- 
 ner, and, in thirty days thereafter, judgment 
 was obtained. To prevent an execution, Tur- 
 ner, driven to great extremity, sent several 
 cases of goods which he had just purchased on 
 time, to auction, and got a sufficient advance 
 thereon to pay the protested note and the cost 
 of the suit brought to recover it. 
 
 Both notes were placed in the hands of a 
 lawyer, with directions for him to recover the 
 amounts they called for as quickly as possible, 
 and writs were, in turn, served upon Coleman. 
 As soon as the latter received them, he made 
 the fact known to three or four of his friends, 
 and they consulted together as to what had bet- 
 ter be done. These friends were all large cre- 
 ditors of Turner, and were in the habit of 
 14
 
 158 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 granting him many business accommodations 
 They knew that he was hard pressed, but did 
 not think him in any danger. It was deter- 
 mined to speak pretty positively to him on the 
 subject, and tell him, with something of an im- 
 plied threat, that he must not attempt to coerce 
 Colcinan into the payment of notes extorted 
 from him at a time when they, as well as others, 
 generously released him from debts which he 
 had no means of paying. 
 
 This course had the desired effect. The 
 claims were not prosecuted to judgment. 
 
 The " no release" system of Turner was not 
 working so well in this instance. Instead of 
 getting his own, even to the last farthing, the 
 unrelenting course he had pursued had already 
 cost him a thousand dollars, and there was a 
 fair probability of its costing him another thou- 
 sand, even if he escaped worse consequences. 
 
 It so happened that the goods sent to auc- 
 tion by Turner, had been bought from one of 
 the individuals through whoss influence he vras 
 prevented from coercing Coleman into the pay- 
 ment of his notes ; and it so happened, that 
 this individual saw these very goods in the auc- 
 tion store before they were sold, and knew 
 them. The truth flashci across his mind, and 
 be, at the same moment, recollected how bitterly
 
 THE NO-RE.LEASE SYSTEM. 159 
 
 Turner "bad persecuted Culeman for a similar 
 transaction years before. 
 
 The inevitable conclusion to which the mer- 
 chant came, was, that Turner must be more 
 seriously embarrassed in his business than he 
 had supposed, and that a prudent course for 
 him would be to get back the money he had 
 loaned him as quickly as possible, and sell him 
 no more goods. In the course of a couple of 
 weeks, the borrowed money account was ba- 
 lanced. Two days afterwards, Turner called 
 upon him and wanted a thousand dollars. 
 
 " Havn't fifty dollars in the bank," was the 
 reply. 
 
 " I'm sorry. But can't you get it for me ?" 
 
 The merchant shook his head. 
 
 " Money is money now." 
 
 " Can't you get me five hundred ?" 
 
 " Indeed I cannot. If I wanted as much 
 myself, I wouldn't know where to get it to-day.'- 
 
 Heretofore, when other sources of accom- 
 modation failed, this one had been sure. Tur- 
 ner went away, feeling gloomy and alarmed 
 As he left the store of the merchant, a thought 
 of the goods he had sent to auction flashed 
 across his mind, and his heart sunk trembling 
 in his bosom with the fear that a discovery of 
 the transaction had been made.
 
 110 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 If so," he sighed, " all is lost." 
 It \rar< nearly three o'clock when his paper 
 was out of bank that day, and he went home to 
 dinner without his usual appetite for food. 
 
 The merchant, whose goods had been sent 
 to auction, had one or two particular friends to 
 whom, after reflection, he felt bound to com- 
 municate the fact he had discovered. This 
 sealed the fate of Turner. When they, too, 
 denied him the usual money-accommodations he 
 had received at their hands, and also, virtually 
 declined selling him any more goods, his failure 
 became inevitable. In less than a week his pa- 
 per was protested to a large amount, and suits 
 immediately commenced thereon. To struggle 
 on further was a hopeless task. After a con- 
 sultation with friends, it was deemed wisest for 
 Turner to call a meeting of creditors, and it 
 fell to his lot to pass through the painful ordeal 
 of an examination before those to whom he was 
 indebted beyond his ability to pay. In such 
 examinations, where his had been the creditor's 
 position, such a feeling as sympathy and kind- 
 ness had never warmed his heart such a thing 
 as mercy he had never shown. He had been 
 satisfied with 'nothing less than the pound of 
 flesh. But, the measure he had meted out, 
 was not measured to him again. Though ht
 
 THE NO-RELEASE SYSTEM. 161 
 
 had shown no regard for others, others regard- 
 ed him, and refrained from dealing harshly 
 with him. Even the fact of sending goods to 
 auction was not charged against him, although, 
 in a similar case, he had made a similar act the 
 basis of an insulting and cruel persecution. 
 Still, there were certain features in his busi- 
 ness, as well as in his character, as a merchant, 
 that determined his creditors to have his affairs 
 settled up by 'the agency of an assignee. The 
 final result, when everything was collected in 
 and divided, showed no better for creditors 
 than in the case of Coleman. 
 
 The wants of a large family, and the burden 
 of a large debt, drove Turner into the same 
 narrow way through which Coleman had been 
 compelled to walk. He, too, found an appeal 
 to creditors for a release, a measure of pressing 
 necessity ; and he could now see the reasonable- 
 ness, the justice, and the humanity of such a 
 release. It is gratifying to be able to say, that 
 he met with but few difficulties in the accom- 
 plishment of what he sought.
 
 162 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 EVERTON OUTWITTED. 
 
 IMMEDIATELY upon the failure of Turner, 
 Everton, from some cause or other, made up 
 his mind to press his claim against Coleman 
 before waiting until the maturity of the third 
 note which he held, and accordingly placed his 
 account in the hands of his lawyer, and di- 
 rected him to commence proceedings. This 
 occurred so soon after Edward Manning had 
 declared himself the lover of Marion, that no 
 information of this last-mentioned pleasing 
 fact had yet been communicated to the parents, 
 although the young man was on the eve of see- 
 ing the father, and formally asking for the 
 hand of his daughter. 
 
 The knowledge of what his uncle was doing 
 came first to Edward through Marion ; and he 
 was troubled by it. He had but a small pro- 
 perty himself, and his expectations from h:a 
 uncle were large. The greater part of the 
 capital he had in hij business was derived from 
 Mr. Everton, and he was at all times under 
 obligations to him. He was aware that his un- 
 cle had felt p, good deal incensed against Mr.
 
 EVERTON OUTWITTED. 163 
 
 Culeinan, at the time of his failure ; but ho 
 had supposed that all was long ago forgotten. 
 To find, instead of this, a revival of the old 
 claim, and the evident intention to prosecute 
 it to an issue, might well make him feel uneasy. 
 Of course he must do something by which the 
 progress of affairs would be arrested ; but the 
 step to take was not by any means so clear. 
 
 After thinking over the matter for one or 
 two days, he determined to disarm his uncle by 
 a kind of stratagem. With this end he called 
 upon him, and after some preliminary conver- 
 sation thus approached his subject. 
 
 " I heard a very interesting incident not long 
 since, that both surprised and pleased me." 
 " Ah ! what was it ?" 
 
 " Some years ago a merchant of our city 
 failed and was broken up root and branch. 
 His eldest son, a lad of fine talent?, had just 
 entered college ; but stern necessity required 
 that all his prospective advantages should be 
 relinquished. His father could no longer bear 
 the heavy expense. It had been fully decided 
 that the boy should come home ; when his 
 sister, a beautiful and highly accomplished 
 young girl, whom I had often met and admired 
 in her father's better days, moved by a pure 
 and self-sacrificing affection, went to a lady, a
 
 164 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 former friend, and entered her family as gover- 
 ness, in order to procure the means for continu- 
 ing her brother at College. So highly was 
 she esteemed in this family, and so warmly 
 were her wishes seconded, that the husband ol 
 the lady, in return for her services, paid every 
 expense of her brother for over three years, 
 during all of which time she continued her 
 duties as governess of his children. And it is 
 remarkable that she was able to conceal from 
 her brother during the whole time, the fact that 
 her labor was procuring him the great advan 
 tages he was enjoying." 
 
 " I should say that she was a gii'l of the 
 right kind of stuff," remarked Mr. Everton. 
 " She is one in a thousand," replied Edward 
 " Better say, one in ten thousand." 
 " Or even fifty thousand. During this long 
 period she lay hidden in the family she had en 
 tered, like a costly gem concealed in a casket 
 I had known and admired her in her better 
 days, as they are called, and often thought of, 
 but did not meet her in the darker period of 
 her patient toil." 
 
 "Was it right, Edward," said the uncle, 
 " for the family into which she had come. y to 
 .et her lie so totally cu> ;ealed ?" 
 
 c< It was her own fault that many of her old
 
 EVERTON 01 TWITTED. 165 
 
 friends were not restored to her. She felt her- 
 self to be in society only a governess, and knew 
 that if she ventured back into the old circle 
 where were many to give her a glad welcome, 
 she would be subjected to pain from the cold- 
 ness and pride of those who saw merit only in 
 a certain condition." 
 
 " And who, compared to a noble girl like 
 her," said the uncle with warmth, " were low, 
 mean, and base. Why, Edward, a woman 
 such as you have described is beyond all price. 
 Is she handsome ?" 
 
 " All admire the tender and peculiar beauty 
 of her face." 
 
 " And well formed ?" 
 
 " She is faultless in proportion." 
 
 " Accomplished and well educated, of 
 course." 
 
 " Few are her superiors in these respects." 
 
 " Of her disposition I need not ask. The 
 girl who from love of another could devote 
 herself to his good as she has devoted herself, 
 must have a loving and true heart so loving 
 and true that all other defects of character are 
 softened and dispersed by its genial warmth." 
 
 " Your inference," said Manning, " is natu- 
 ral and true !"
 
 166 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 " Have you met this paragon of her sex ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Of late ?' 
 
 " Yes. I saw her by the merest accident, 
 at the house of the lady where she lives ; and 
 when I heard her story from the lips of her 
 patron and friend, who speaks of her with the 
 warmest enthusiasm, I renewed my acquaint- 
 ance." 
 
 "And you were right, Edward. Win her, 
 if you can ; you might look the world over, 
 and not meet another so worthy to become your 
 wife. I say this, because I have seen so much 
 unhappiness spring from a regard to family and 
 fortune in marriages, that I do not want you to 
 run the risk of being cursed for life by a com- 
 panion who may have nothing else to recom- 
 mend her." 
 
 " Thank you, my good uncle, for such sound 
 advice," returned Edward, seizing the hand of 
 Mr. Everton. " And now, let me say, that 
 before this young lady was banished by misfor- 
 tune from her old place in society, her heart 
 had become interested in a young man, though 
 he was not aware of the fact." 
 
 Ah !" 
 
 ;< And during the long years of trial and
 
 EVERTON OUTWITTED. 167 
 
 seclusion through which she has passed, the 
 pains of a hopeless passion have been added to 
 her hard lot." 
 
 " And she still loves on ?" 
 
 " Yes ; but not now hopelessly ; for the 
 young man saw her of late, and was almost in- 
 stantly inspired with a kindred sentiment. He 
 called upon the lady at whose house she was 
 staying, learned her history, renewed his ac- 
 quaintance, and acknowledged himself a lover." 
 
 " Then there is no chance for you," said the 
 uncle, in a tone of disappointment. 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Is not her hand already engaged ?" 
 
 " Yes ; but to your lucky nephew." 
 
 "Ned!" exclaimed Mr. Everton, "why 
 you tricky dog, you ! What do you mean ?" 
 
 " You've given your consent, you know,' 
 said the young man, smiling. 
 
 " Oh yes, and give it now, twice over, if that 
 will help matters any. But, Edward, who i? 
 the lady ? You hav'nt told me that yet." 
 
 " I believe I must keep that secret from you 
 a little longer," replied Manning. 
 
 " You must, why so ? I've yielded my ap- 
 proval on your own recital of the merits of 
 your lady-love ; what more do you want ?
 
 168 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 Come, give me her name. I see no use of fur- 
 ther mystery." 
 
 " I don't know about that. I must think a 
 little." 
 
 " Why, Ned, what do you mean ? You're 
 a strange fellow." 
 
 " The fact is, uncle, at the time her father 
 failed, a number of years ago, he owed you 
 money, and I heard you speak hard against 
 him." 
 
 " Ah ! It isn't that Coleman's daughter ?" 
 Mr. Everton's countenance became serious. 
 
 " Yes. Her name is Marion Coleman." 
 
 "The deuce it is! Ned! Ned! That 
 won't do ! Indeed it won't ! I've a grudge 
 against Coleman, and I must have it out." 
 
 " But the grudge needn't extend to his 
 daughter. She has never crossed your path, 
 nor harmed you in any way." 
 
 " I know. But don't you see as plain as 
 daylight, that if you marry the daughter, I 
 must keep my hands off the father ?'' 
 
 " For the sake of so good a daughter, sup- 
 pose, uncle, you spare the father," suggested 
 Edward, with an insinuating smile. 
 
 "No no no no!" replied Everton, 
 quickly, " don't talk to me in that ttay. It
 
 EVERTON OUTWITTED. 169 
 
 can't be. Colcman has got to toe the- 
 mark." 
 
 " Perhaps you judge him too harshly," sug- 
 gested Manning. " He may not have intended 
 to wrong you." 
 
 " But he did ; and, I think, acted with 
 shameful bad faith." 
 
 " In trying positions, uncle, men sometimes 
 are unable to see clearly the true course of ac- 
 tion, and often do wrong when they mean to 
 do right. This may have been the case with 
 Mr. Coleman. His difficulties were of a most 
 distracting nature, I believe." 
 
 " Don't, don't talk to me in that way, Ed- 
 ward, I can't let that man escape me." 
 
 Manning had penetration enough to see that 
 his uncle was wavering. So he replied to this 
 good humoredly. 
 
 " I shall have to bring Marion here, I find. 
 You may withstand my arguments ; but hers 
 will be too powerful for you. One glance at 
 her sweet face will cause you to forgive her 
 father. So you might as well make a virtue 
 of necessity and do it at once." 
 
 " Come and see me to-morrow morning, Ed- 
 ward," said Mr. Everton abruptly. 
 
 " Very well, uncle, I will be here ;" and 
 Manning arose and departed. 
 15
 
 i70 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 On the next morning, the young man came, 
 according to appointment. Mr. Everton 
 looked at him seriously, and nodded coldly as 
 he entered. Before any remark was made, 
 Manning drew a small Morocco case from his 
 pocket, containing an exquisite miniature of 
 Marion, taken some years before, and handed 
 it to his uncle, but without saying a word. 
 Everton looked at the gentle face of the lovely 
 girl, pictured almost to the life, for nearly a 
 minute, while the eyes of Manning, which 
 were fixed steadily. upon him, could see no 
 softening of a single feature. The uncle 
 handed back the miniature, without saying a 
 word, and turning to his secretary at which he 
 was sitting, took up a pen and wrote hastily 
 upon a slip of paper, a few lines. 
 
 " There ! will that satisfy you ?" he said, 
 half fretfully, as he handed the slip of paper 
 to Edward. The young man's eyes glanced 
 over it eagerly. It was a receipt in full of all 
 demands against Coleman. 
 
 " What shall I do with this ?" asked the 
 young man. 
 
 " Do with it ? Burn it, if you will ; or, if 
 you can find no other use for it, give it to your 
 lady-love." 
 
 " Thank y>u, in her name, my dear unole."
 
 EVERTON OUTWITTED. 171 
 
 said Manning, with, much feeling " When I 
 hand her this, her heart, that is now depressed, 
 will bound again lightly." 
 
 "Depressed? what is it depressed about, 
 ha?" 
 
 " Through her I learned that you had com- 
 menced proceedings against her father, which, 
 if continued, would inevitably destroy his busi- 
 ness, and break him down again." 
 
 " Very well. It's all over now. But Cole- 
 man may thank his stars that he has so good a 
 daughter !" 
 
 " And so may I," replied the young man, 
 smiling. 
 
 " There, there ! That '11 do, Ned ! And 
 now, off with you ! and don't let me see your 
 face until until " 
 
 " My wedding night!" said Manning, with 
 a broad smile. 
 
 " I'll disinherit you, you rascal !" exclaimed 
 Everton, with affected anger. 
 
 " And leave everything to Marion," re- 
 torted the nephew, as he left the room
 
 172 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 CHAPTER XI "V . 
 
 THE DAWN OF BETTER DAYS. 
 
 ON the evening of the day the occurrence 
 mentioned in the closing of the last chapter 
 took place, Mr. Coleman came home from hi* 
 store, feeling gloomy and disappointed. He- 
 saw little hope of saving his business, now in a 
 prosperous condition, if so large a sum as tec 
 thousand dollars were recovered against him. 
 which would inevitably be the case ; for Ever- 
 ton's claim admitted of no dispute. Other 
 creditors had the power to come in and save 
 themselves ; but the ruin to him would be ine- 
 vitable. One disaster, in a life-time, was 
 enough for him, and he shrunk from the 
 thought of passing through the terrible ordeal 
 again, even more fearfully than before. Ma- 
 rion was still in the family of Mr. Henderson, 
 but the father was anxious for her to come 
 home. Henry was reading law, and had to be 
 supported until able to take care of himself; 
 and the younger children required a larger out- 
 lay of money than before for their support and 
 education.
 
 DAWN OF BETTER DAYS. 173 
 
 No wonder that Mr. Coleman felt troubled 
 He came in, and without entering the parlor, 
 where his family were sitting, went up stairs. 
 Marion was at home, but he did not know it 
 He had been sitting, for a few moments only, 
 at a small secretary, and was looking over a 
 letter, when Marion entered the room where 
 he was, and approaching him, said, with a warm 
 and loving smile 
 
 " I have something for you, dear father," 
 handing him, as she spoke, a small piece of pa- 
 per. It was the receipt Manning had obtained 
 from his uncle. 
 
 Mr. Coleman took it, and read it over, twice, 
 before he understood what it meant. Then 
 springing up, with an exclamation of sui-prise, 
 said 
 
 "Marion! Child! Who gave you this? 
 What does it mean ?" 
 
 Marion, smiling through tears of joy, re- 
 plied 
 
 " Dear father ! I can answer you nothing, 
 just now. But you will know all in a little 
 while." 
 
 " My child," said the father, with a voice 
 
 that trembled, " what new sacrifice of yourself 
 
 has obtained this. Marion Marion ! Take 
 
 it back ! Take it back ! Yo i have passed 
 
 15*
 
 174 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 through enough already. I will accept of no 
 exemptions at the price of your happiness ; of 
 your self-devotion." 
 
 " No such price has been paid, father," said 
 Marion. " In no bosom pulsates a happier 
 heart than beats in mine to-night. I did not 
 obtain this receipt for you. I did not sue for 
 it. It came into my hands to-day, unasked and 
 unexpected." 
 
 " Through whom ?" 
 
 The happy girl was silent, but tell-tale 
 blushes were warm upon her cheeks. 
 
 " Is there cause for concealment, my daugh- 
 ter?" asked Mr. Coleman. 
 
 " Mother will tell you all," murmured Ma- 
 rion, as she bent over her father, and left a 
 kiss of love upon his forehead. In the next 
 moment Mr. Coleman was alone, so surprised 
 and bewildered that he could not help saying 
 aloud 
 
 " Am I dreaming ?" 
 
 Mrs. Coleman came in from the next room, 
 as he uttered this exclamation, and soon all was 
 explained. 
 
 "Edward Manning!" said Mr. Coleman, 
 after he understood everything. " Can it be 
 possible ! One more worthy the pure love of 
 our child I do not know. Oh ! Has she not
 
 DAWN OF BETTER DAYS. 175 
 
 had her reward !" tremulously added her fa- 
 tlier. " She has passed through a long night 
 of trial and self-devotion, but the dawn of a 
 bright day is breaking." 
 
 " How we have feared and shrunk at every 
 step of our way along the dark paths we have 
 trodden !" said the mother. " But now, all 
 is ivell. How foolish a thing it is to doubt the 
 I 1 vine goodness." 
 
 Marion did not meet her father at the tea- 
 table. Nor for an hour afterwards. Early in 
 the evening Edward Manning called, and for- 
 mally applied f~v her haud. 
 
 " Edward," replied Mr. Coleman, " I can- 
 not even seem to hesitate. I have no cause for 
 doing so. Take her, and wear her as a rich 
 gem in your crown of happiness. When you 
 know her worth as I know it, you will love her 
 more deeply than ever. May she be as good 
 a wife as she has been a daughter and sister 
 With her as your companion through life, you 
 need not tremble at the thought of adversity. 
 In the darkest night, she will be a radiant star 
 in your firmament May God bless you 
 both !" 
 
 When Marion came into the room where 
 they were, on being summoned, Mr. Coleman 
 took her hand and laying it within that of tho
 
 176 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 young man, uttered, with deep emotion, t,ho 
 "ords 
 
 " Be true to each other. And may your 
 ties ever be bright, and your paths lie amid 
 leasant places." 
 
 He said this, and, turning, left the happy 
 maiden and her lover alone. 
 
 Three months from that evening, there was 
 :i small wedding party in the same room. Mr. 
 Everton was not present, but he showed his 
 feeling on the occasion, by a handsome bridal 
 present to Marion. He did not entirely for- 
 give Mr. Coleman until after ho had met the 
 daughter a few times. Then the sweetness of 
 her disposition, and the unselfishness of her 
 heart, drove out the evil spirit of revenge he 
 had so long cherished in his bosom. Being 
 willing to forgive the past, it was no hard mat- 
 tor to forget it ; and he could now meet Mr. 
 Coleman with the frankness and good feeling 
 of a friend, and desire rather to sustain him, 
 than break him down. From that time, tho 
 way of prosperity was fairly opened to Mr. 
 Coleman, and, in a few years, he found him* 
 eelf and family restored to their old places 
 But, they chose to have fewer friends so 
 called than before. Adversity had not only 
 sobers I their feelings, but given them the
 
 CONCLUSION. 177 
 
 ability to see deeper beneath the surface, and 
 to understand who were to be classed with 
 mere fashionable acquaintances, and who with 
 the select number of true-hearted friends 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 ERASTUS TURNER, after obtaining a release 
 from his creditors, found himself without a 
 friend to take him by the hand, or speak an 
 encouraging word. The entire selfishness he 
 had manifested in business, and the utter heart- 
 lessness with which he had always pursued a 
 debtor while hope of getting a dollar remained, 
 had estranged from him men of better feelings ; 
 and from those who were like himself, he had 
 nothing to hope. 
 
 Burdened with a large and helpless family, 
 and without the means of supporting them, 
 Turner sunk, for a time, almost into despair. 
 Instead of reducing his household expenses at 
 once, as Coleman had done, he weakly yielded 
 to his wife and daughters, who madly clung to 
 their old style of living like a drowning man 
 to a straw. But that would not save thrm
 
 178 DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 A few months, and pinching want enter- 
 ed their doors. When, at last, rich furni- 
 ture and costly ornaments vanished from their 
 sight under the stroke of the auctioneer's ham- 
 mer, nearly all the money that was received 
 therefor was required to pay the expense of liv- 
 ing since the time all income from business had 
 been cut off. Without employment, or the meana 
 of entering into business, poor Turner's case 
 was pitiable indeed. He could now feel for 
 others ; but sympathy came too late. He had 
 pursued many a man to the last extremity, and 
 then refused to give up his claim against him, 
 or allow him a single chance for recovery. In 
 his own misfortunes, he had found men more 
 considerate and humane than he had ever been 
 himself. Such thoughts were far from being 
 pleasant companions in his adversity. 
 
 He had been trying for weeks to get some- 
 thing to do, but without succeeding, and was 
 in an agony of distress and anxiety, when his 
 old debtor, Mr. Coleman, called to see him. 
 
 " I have made inquiry of those whom I 
 thought likely to know," said Coleman, after 
 greeting Turner kindly, " and learn that the 
 two notes you held of mine, for a thousand dol- 
 lars each, were not included in the assets of 
 your business. Are they still in your hands r " 
 
 c: Thev aro." replied Turner
 
 CONCLUSION. 179 
 
 " I am pleased to hear it. Learning, yes- 
 terday, that you had not been able to get into 
 any kind of business, or secure any employ- 
 ment, since your late misfortunes, I immedi- 
 ately saw a number of my old creditors, for 
 whose benefit I hope soon to make a small pro 
 rata dividend, and they all, with one voice, 
 gave their consent for me to settle your claim 
 in full. That is, the principal, or two thou- 
 sand dollars. Interest, I think an unfortunate 
 debtor never should pay ; because the money 
 he owes is not capital in his hands upon which 
 he is trading, but an unproductive debt. Ho 
 gives up everything, and has to start with no- 
 thing. Burden him with an annual interest 
 equal, or, perhaps, greater than the whole 
 yearly gross product of his new business, and 
 his case is hopeless. If you are ready to give 
 me up my notes for the net amount of two 
 thousand dollars, I will give you a check for 
 one thousand now, and lift the other in three 
 months. Or, if you wish to go into business. 
 I will sell you a thousand dollars worth of 
 goods at the lowest market prices, and take the 
 second note in payment thereof. With this as 
 a basis, and the credit a thousand dollars in 
 cash will enable you to obtain, you can re- 
 commence business in a sm* 11 -*" nd, I hope, 
 get on your feet agaip v
 
 ISO DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. 
 
 So manly and unexpected an offer, com 
 pletely astonished Turner ; but at the same 
 time it took a mountain from his breast. 
 
 " Mr. Coleman !" he said, grasping the hand 
 of his old debtor, " you have come to me in 
 my deepest extremity ; and have lifted me up 
 and set me upon firm ground, just as I felt my- 
 self sinking hopelessly beneath the waters of 
 misfortune. And this, too, after I had pur- 
 sued you, in your troubles, with selfish and un- 
 relenting cruelty." 
 
 " We will not speak of that now," returned 
 Mr. Coleman, quickly. " It is past. I ren- 
 der you but strict justice. In the future, if 
 either you or I should have to deal with a bro- 
 ther in misfortune, let the remembrance that 
 he is a man of like passions, procure for him 
 the utmost kindness and consideration that can 
 possibly be shown. We rarely err, when we 
 lean to the side of mercy; almost always, 
 when we deal rigorously with those who arc in 
 trouble." 
 
 Turner bowed his head and received this 
 rebuke in silence. It was not meant to wound 
 him ; and was uttered so mildly that it did not 
 vround. But the words sunk deeply into his 
 heart, and were never forgotten.
 
 
 This book is DUE on the last 
 date stamped below. 
 
 
 QL 
 
 . 
 MiViDPi IT- 1! PI 
 
 MAR IB 1996
 
 f 
 
 PS 
 1C39 
 A?8d 
 1857