Short Story.

Cromwell Argus, Volume XXVII, Issue 1373, 20 August 1895, Page 7

Short Story.

CAUGHT IN HIS OWN

TRAP.

By G. Sinister.

Mr. Fenticost Purblind was—and is, for that matter—a highly moral man. That is to say, he has no pity or sympathy for those who are not highly moral. This is a very comfortable position, which, as I have observed, is frequently assumed with success by the “ leaders ot thought.” . To the sceptical and scornful—to the lost sheep —in short, the aspect of the moral posene is sufficiently contemptible. Bub it is also amusing, eminently so ; and hence it is that while we may be disposed to spit upon tho farceur, we restrain our indignation in the interest of our sense of amusement, it is in this l.ght that I approach Mr. Purblind, and reveal to the shocked ears of society how it ,<*uno o pass that Mr. Purblind fell into the trap of his own cunning and contrivance. It is a noticable circumstance that your highly moral man, who proclaims Ins own virtues and denounces other people hj, from the housetops, is, as a rule of amative disposition. Tobin aim Moheva have exhibited this fact in their plays, and every man and woman of the world know how true the satire is, Mr, 1 UP* blind was no exception to the rule. Ho was assusceptible to the tonderpassions ns Monsieur Tartuffe himself, and had as keen an eye for a pretty woman as the gayest gallant abroad. But then this was only known to Mr. Purblind himself. To the public Mr. Purblind appeared far above such miserable vanities. He said so at any rate, and as he bad, and still has, a large following of believers, we may suppose that bis assertion gained him the credit it angled for. Now the way in which these people set about their evil business is well known. Ladies have a great liking for the society of such canting hypocrites, and so it comes to.pass that they are so frequently guests at the tea table of sympathetic dames and damsels. There they hold forth, arid are listened to with admiring interest, and there it is, that they so frequently sow the seeds of discord, jealousy and misery in many « household. lor the moral expounder nf this type is ever on the alert to hint darkly at wickedness in others, which in truth resides only ir himself. Mr, Purblind was what ladies call a “ tine looking man”—tall, erect, dignified, slow in movement and speech. Phrenologically speaking, his bold head exhibited quite a wonderful array of interesting bumps. He had straight features and cold grey eyes. The latter revealed his character to the physiognomist, for if ho watched them he would look in vain f or a k i nd ly gl eai n of sympathy, even as Mr. Purblind’s tongue wagged about the loftiest of moral j sentiments. Mr. Purblind was a bachelor, on the lookout for a rich wife, and it came to pa=s that he cast a longing eye upon Mrs. lJumaraey, a wealthy widow of about thirty years of age. Now Mrs. Dumaresy had a great admiration for Mr. Purblind as a moral teacher, but not the slightest idea of him as a prospective successor to her late husband. On the contrary, of her many admirers she favored, in seer >t thought, ayoungand'rising barrister. Mr. Purblind preceived this, and at once set to work to undermine the lawyers repu tation with the lady. He did this cleverly enough, professing great admiration of Mr. Philip YaseyV talents, praising his wit, and so forth. But there was always a reservation, unexpressed by speech, but inferred by certain facial signs—a drawing down the corners of the mouth, a contraction of the brows, an uplifting of the eyes, or some one or another of the signs by which as “ Hamlet ” tells us, so much injury may be done to a reputation without resort to speech. And nobody is quicker to perceive and undtrstand these signs than a woman is—especially a widow—who may be specially interested in the subject on whom they refer, and once curiosity is aroused in such a woman’s bieast, she never rests until she hears the worst. “ Mr. Purblind,” said the lady one day, “ I want you to be candid with me.” ' “Madam,” said the gentleman unctuously, “Pm always candid. Truth ” —he pronounced it “ Teruth ” —“ is dear to me, and I would not sully the glory of that principle by equivocation. Beau-1 if ul—teruth 1” And he turned up his eyes to the ceiling. But the next moment they rested furtively on the lady’s face. It was turned to him in or >file • Im*- chi" •’•'cfr. i upon hefhand, as she leant her elbow on a table. “ Well,” said the widow, at last, “ I have noticed that whenever you speak of Mr. Vasey, you —you—” “ Appear to reserve an opinion prejudicial to that gentleman !” interrupted Mr. Purblind. “ Why, yes—that is what 1 mean.” 1 “ Are you deeply interested in him T* asked the gentleman, “ Well,” said the widow, with a quick blush, “ that is beside the question. I certainly do like him, because I think hint a perfect gentleman.” Mr. Purblind sighed. ’♦ In my view, madam, no man can be a perfect gentleman who is not perfectly moral.” “ Good gracious ! Mr. Purblind.” Mr. Vasey is clever, fascinating, kind natured, no doubt. But Iquestionhisclaim to the title you have conferred upon him as judged from wy standpoint.” The widow’s eyes filled with tears. Mr. Purblind noticed this circumstance, and ground his white teeth. “ Well, sir,” said the lady, “ in what respect does Mr. Vasey sin against you? high standard 1” * “Alas! madam, he is even as most young men of the present day. Ho is gay—that is what they call it—to gamble., and drink, and —and —lead the life of the unregenerate.” “ Sir. Purblind, these are yery serous gharges.” “ They are none the less teruth, madam,” said Mr. Purblind. “ Heed not the voice of this tempi er, madam. No happiness can result from an union with a man who does not cherish the purity of his soul even as the apple of his eye.” ' “But, Mr. Purblind, perhaps Mr. Vasey is not given to vice. The world is so wicked that it is hardly possible to pass through it unsullied.” “ I know not, madam,” said Mr. Purblind, loftily, “ how that may be. But 1 know that I—l, Penticost Purblind—a simplp Christian man, madam, have conto preserve the white spotlessness pf my moral nature unsullied. Madam, let me entreat you to pause. Marry not the man of vanities. Wed with one who would lead you in the right path, love yon with Christian love, cherish you for your soul’s sake. In short, madam, marry me.'' ... Here he would have taken the lady’s hand, had it not been for the circumstance .that his coat collar was suddenly seized frqrq behind, and he was hurled to the pjilipp end of the room. Eveq ns be under the {wee of this attack

no perceived tliat it had come trom the man whose character he had been maligning. “You canting scoundrel,” gasped the young lawyer, “ so you have been caught in your own trap, eh V You a moral man —you a Christian saint—; you, you foul wretch, to seek to wed this lady. It makes my blood boil to think you should have ever so much as touched her hand, ” The discomfited Mr. Purblind glanced at the widow. He saw at once that he had been made the victim of a preconcerted plan to expose him. “I forgive you,” said he, with a wretched effort to assume his usual magnanimous manner. “I forgive you,” and he turned to leave. ‘•Stop,” roared the lawyer. “Not yet, you villain !” And Mr, Vasey went to the door and threw it open. A young woman with two children Mitered. Mr. Purblind gave a great gasp, and staggered back. “ Now, sir,” said the lawyer, “do you know (his person ?’’ “1 do not !” desperately answered the moral teacher, as ho mopped his forehead with liis handkerchief. “(Jh, Bartholomew !” cried the young woman, “ how can you ?” “ 1 know you not,” cried the philanthropist. “ Let mo pass.” “Mot yet,"said Vasey. “Tell us,young woman, what you know of this precious person T “ fie is my husband,” said the woman. “His name is Bartholomew Vance.” “It is not—it is not,” gasped Mr. Purblind. “ 'l'llat was the name he married me under,” said the woman; “seven years ago, in Auckland. When ho left me, he said lie would return within a few months—that is four years ago. I only heard from him once, when he sent me ten pounds, and said that business called him to England. He commended mo and the children to the care of Heaven—didn’t you, Bartholomew?” “ Woman!” groaned the wretched Mr. Purblind, “I know you not.” And with a desperate rush he escaped from the room, followed by his'wife and children.