THE CRIME OF
HENRY VANE
A STUDY WITH A MORAL
By J. S. of Dale
Author of “Guerndale”
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
1884
Copyright, 1884,
By CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS.
Press of J. J. Little & Co.,
Nos. 10 to 20 Astor Place, New York.
THE
Crime of Henry Vane.
“——Make a fool of yourself, like Vane.”
“I am not so sure that is fair to Vane,” saidJohn; “no one can go through what he did,and keep perfectly sound.”
“I’ll leave it to the crowd,” said the Major;“what say you, boys?”
All were unanimous. There was no excusefor a crime like Vane’s. Evidently they allknew Vane. He was damned without one dissentingvoice.
“Who was Vane?” said I, “and what didhe do? Which commandment did he break?He must have made merry with them all—or,rather, have kept them all to get such a judgmentin this club.”
A babel of voices arose. All these menwere intimate friends; and they were sittingin one of the small smoking-rooms of the ColumbianClub in New York. John had just engagedhimself to be married, and we had givenhim a dinner; or, as Pel Schuyler put it, wewere “recording his mortgage.” Schuyler wasa real-estate broker.
“Now, look here,” said John, “how many ofyou fellows know Vane personally?”
No one, apparently. There was a moment’ssilence. Then the Major spoke up. “Bah!”said he, “I have heard the story these tenyears.” “So have I!” chimed in severalothers. “My brother knew Vane in Paris,”said Pel. “I had it from Mrs. Malgam herself,”simpered Daisy Blake, fatuously.
“Well, at least, I know nothing of it,” I said;“tell it for my benefit, John.”
“Yes, yes,” cried they, “let’s hear the correctand only version according to John.”
It was that critical moment in a dinner, whenthe fireworks of champagne have sputteredout, and the burgundy invites to somnolence.All had lit their cigars, and felt more likelistening than talking. John did not smoke.
“I will,” said he. “At that time, I was hisbest—I may say, his only friend.”
“And I say, still,” said the Major, “heacted like a fool and criminally. There can beno excuse for such conduct.”
John shrugged his shoulders and began. Ofcourse, I do not mean that he told the whole storyjust as I have written it. He related the barefacts, with little comment and without conversations.Whether you condemned the man orexcused him, John thought, his story might beunderstood, even if his folly were not forgiven.The crowd at the club did neither; and, perhaps,their judgment is the judgment of theworld; and the world is probably right. Butwe may learn from folly; it is sometimes moresuggestive than common sense. There is theordinary success and there is the exceptionalfailure; that is pleasanter, but this is moreinstructive. Extreme cases fix the law.
The world is probably right; and, to thoseof us who are healthily adapted to our environment,the world is enough. Blessed arethey who are fitted, for they shall survive. Theworld is enough; but the poet sang, love isenough. Shall we say, love is surplusage?The world is always right; and how v