The Fatal Glove | Page 6

at Grandma Rugg's became insupportable
to Arch. He could not remain there. The old woman was crosser than
ever, and, though he gave her every penny of his earnings, she was not
satisfied.
So Arch took lodgings in another part of the city, quite as poor a place,
but there no one had the right to grumble at him. Still, because she was
some relation to Mat, he gave Grandma Rugg full half of his money,
but he never remained inside her doors longer than necessity
demanded.
In his new lodgings he became acquainted with a middle-aged man
who represented himself as a retired army officer. His name was John
Sharp--a sleek, keen-eyed, smooth-tongued individual, who never

boasted or blustered, but who gave people the idea that at some time he
had been a person of consequence. This man attached himself
particularly to Arch Trevlyn. With insidious cunning he wormed
himself into the boy's confidence, and gained, to a certain degree, his
friendship. Arch did not trust him entirely, though. There was
something about him from which he shrank--the touch of his white,
jewelled hand made his flesh creep, like the touch of a serpent.
But Mr. Sharp had an object to gain, and set himself resolutely to work
to carry his point. He made himself necessary to Arch. He bought him
books, and taught him in the evenings, when neither was engaged
otherwise. He had been well educated, and in Arch he had an apt
scholar. Every spare moment of the boy's life was absorbed in his
books.
By-and-bye Sharp learned the whole history of the wrongs, inflicted on
Arch's parents by old Mr. Trevlyn. He snapped at the story as a dog
snaps at a bone. But he was, cautious and patient, and it was a long
time before he showed himself to Arch in his true character. And then,
when he did, the revelation had been made so much by degrees, that the
boy was hardly shocked to find that his friend was a house-breaker and
a highway robber.
Long before he had formed a plan to rob the house of Mr. Trevlyn. It
was a field that promised well. Mr. Trevlyn, with the idiosyncrasy of
age, had invested most of his fortune in diamonds, and these he kept in
a chamber in his house. His chief delight consisted in gloating over
these precious stones. Night after night he would sit handling his
diamonds, chuckling over his wealth, and threatening imaginary
plunderers with destruction.
So, his servants said, and Sharp repeated the story to Arch with sundry
variations and alterations suited to the case. He had a persuasive tongue,
and it is little wonder that the boy, hating his grandfather as he did, and
resolved as he was upon revenging his father's wrongs, should fall into
the snare. He wanted Mr. Trevlyn to suffer--he did not care how. If the
loss of his diamonds would be to him a severer blow than any other,
then let it fall.

Sharp used many specious arguments to induce Arch to become his
accomplice in robbing the Trevlyn mansion, but the only one which
had any weight was that he could thus revenge his father's wrongs.
"Only assist me, and secure your revenge," said the wily schemer, "and
I will share the spoils with you. There will be enough to enrich us both
for life!"
Arch drew himself up proudly, a fiery red on his cheek, a dangerous
gleam in his dark eye.
"I am no thief, sir! I'd scorn to take a cent from that old man to use for
my benefit! I would not touch his diamonds if they lay here at my feet!
But if I can make him suffer anything like as my poor father suffered
through him, then I am ready to turn robber--yes, pickpocket, if you
will!" he added, savagely.
Sharp appointed the night. His plans were craftily laid. Mr. Trevlyn, he
had ascertained, would be absent on Thursday night; he had taken a
little journey into the country for his health, and only the servants and
his ward would sleep in the house.
Thursday night was dark and rainy. At midnight Sharp and Arch stood
before the house they were about to plunder. No thought of shame or
sin entered Archer Trevlyn's heart; he did not seem to think he was
about to disgrace himself for life; he thought only of Mr. Trevlyn's
dismay when he should return, to find the bulk of his riches swept away
from him at one blow.
"He took all my father had," he said, under his breath; "he would have
sullied the fair fame of my mother; and if I could take from him
everything but life, I would do it."
Sharp, with a dexterous skill, removed the fastenings of