This eBook was produced by David Widger
In the kindliest natures there is a certain sensitiveness, which, when wounded, occasions the same pain, and bequeaths the same resentment, as mortified vanity or galled self-love.
It is exactly that day week, towards the hour of five in the evening, Mr.Hartopp, alone in the parlour behind his warehouse, is locking up hisbooks and ledgers preparatory to the return to his villa. There is acertain change in the expression of his countenance since we saw it last.If it be possible for Mr. Hartopp to look sullen,—sullen he looks; if itbe possible for the Mayor of Gatesboro' to be crestfallen, crestfallen heis. That smooth existence has surely received some fatal concussion, andhas not yet recovered the shock. But if you will glance beyond theparlour at Mr. Williams giving orders in the warehouse, at thewarehousemen themselves, at the rough faces in the tan-yard,-nay, at MikeCallaghan, who has just brought a parcel from the railway, all of themhave evidently shared in the effects of the concussion; all of them weara look more or less sullen; all seem crestfallen. Could you carryyour gaze farther on, could you peep into the shops in the High Street,or at the loungers in the city reading-room; could you extend the visionfarther still,—to Mr. Hartopp's villa, behold his wife, his little ones,his men-servants, and his maid-servants, more and more impressivelygeneral would become the tokens of disturbance occasioned by thatinfamous concussion. Everywhere a sullen look,—everywhere thatineffable aspect of crestfallenness! What can have happened? is thegood man bankrupt? No, rich as ever! What can it be? Reader! thatfatal event which they who love Josiah Hartopp are ever at watch toprevent, despite all their vigilance, has occurred! Josiah Hartopp hasbeen TAKEN IN! Other men may be occasionally taken in, and no onemourns; perhaps they deserve it! they are not especially benevolent, orthey set up to be specially wise. But to take in that lamb! And it wasnot only the Mayor's heart that was wounded, but his pride, his self-esteem, his sense of dignity, were terribly humiliated. For as we know,though all the world considered Mr. Hartopp the very man born to be takenin, and therefore combined to protect him, yet in his secret soul Mr.Hartopp considered that no man less needed such protection; that he wasnever taken in, unless he meant to be so. Thus the cruelty andingratitude of the base action under which his crest was so fallen jarredon his whole system. Nay, more, he could not but feel that the eventwould long affect his personal comfort and independence; he would be morethan ever under the affectionate tyranny of Mr. Williams, more than everbe an object of universal surveillance and espionage. There would be onethought paramount throughout Gatesboro'. "The Mayor, God bless him! hasbeen taken in: this must not occur again, or Gatesboro' is dishonoured,and Virtue indeed a name!" Mr. Hartopp felt not only mortified butsubjugated,—he who had hitherto been the soft subjugator of the hardest.He felt not only subjugated, but indignant at the consciousness of beingso. He was too meekly convinced of Heaven's unerring justice not to feelassured that the man who had taken him in would come to a tragic end. Hewould not have hung that man with his own hands: he was too mild forvengeance. But if he had seen that man hanging he would have saidpiously, "Fitting retribution," and passed on his way soothed andcomforted. Taken in!—taken in at last!—he, Josiah Hartopp, takenin by a fellow with one eye!