Judge Elbridge (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1899. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER XXIV. SENT A MESSAGE. William went to the office door and found it locked. This was so singular a happening that the old fellow stalked about the house, marveling over it and complaining against an innovation that shut a man out of an apartment that had served so long as a sort of public domain. It was like the closing of a park or a county road. Everyone laughed at him and he snorted. In the vocabulary of William's contempt, the snort was the strongest expression. "It is all right to laugh," said he, "but I want to tell you that there has got to be a change here." He returned to the office door and knocked upon it, but his knuckles aroused no heed within. He could hear the Judge walking up and down. Bodney had been gone nearly half an hour. But the Judge had not noted the time. To him, life was but a conflicting, mental eternity, and he was in the whirling midst of it. For a long time he sat with his head on the table, one arm stretched out before him, the other hanging limp; then he staggered about the room, and then sat down with his head in his hands, To the eye turned inward all was black, till gradually a light appeared, seeming softly to shine upon a hideous shape, crouching in a dark corner. He gazed upon it, and it spoke, shrinking further back from the soft light. "I am your injustice," it said. He got up, raised a window, and stood looking out upon the sunlight in the street. But he shivered as if with cold, and his lips moved as if he were talking and swallowing his words down into deep silence. A gladness began to form in his heart. His son was innocent, but in that innocence there was a reproach. He had been unnatural as a father, and might he not many a time have been unjust as a judge? He acknowledged to himself that he must have d...