The idolized young tribune of the
people became a Judas Iscariot overnight, with no silver pieces as the
price of his apostasy. If he expected immediate preferment from the
other camp, he was again bitterly disappointed. Life meantime had become
unbearable to him. He was ostracized more studiously than any leper; it
is said that his own father cut him when they passed each other in the
street. His young wife died, heartbroken, it was believed, by the flood
of hatred and vilification that poured in upon her husband. One man
alone stood by Surface in his downfall, his classmate and friend of his
bosom from the cradle, John Randolph Weyland, a good man and a true.
Weyland's affection never faltered. When Surface withdrew from the State
with a heart full of savage rancor, Weyland went every year or two to
visit him, first in Chicago and later in New York, where the exile was
not slow in winning name and fortune as a daring speculator. And when
Weyland died, leaving a widow and infant daughter, he gave a final proof
of his trust by making Surface sole trustee of his estate, which was a
large one for that time and place.
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