Short Story.

Golden Bay Argus, Volume 5, Issue 20, 17 October 1895, Page 2

Short Story.

An Aristocratic Scoundrel

BY LAWRENCE CANE, Q.C., M.P., AND JOSEPH FORSTER. ' .Captain Houghton anti his wife, a pretty, delicate woman, with blue eyes, fair hair, good complexion and teeth, resided at one of the most popular and beautiful watering places in the north of England. Captain Houghton -was a well-to-do man, holding a good official appointment, and he and his wife were apparently a happy and contented couple. Residing at the same breezy and attractive place was a rather limp specimen of the English aristocracy, belonging to a well - known and titled family. The gentleman, the Hon. Henry Sapmore, was tall, fair, and thin ; his moustache was long and silky, and he appeared to be always trying to make it longer by incessantly pulling at it. This was the only action in which the gentleman in question showed any sign of perseverance. Captain Houghton, who was fifteen years older than his pretty wife, met the proprietor of the long silky moustache, which was really the most characteristic feature about the Hon. Henry Sapmore, at the reading-rooms and Spa, and these ordinary and inevitable meetings led, in time,- to conversation between them, and that finally resulted in an introduction of Mr. Sapmore to Mrs. Houghton. Now Mrs. Houghton was a good little woman in her pretty, silly way, and never meant any harm in anything she ever did or said ; in fact, she never meant anything with an approach to will power. She liked to look as pretty as possible, because she liked admiration ; but beyond these—to a woman—important points, she floated along the stream of circumstances with placid calm and quiet good breeding. Mrs. Houghton was pleased at her introduction to Mr. Sapmore, and loved to listen to his talk about his aristocratic relations and friends, and even admired the pronounced lisp of that gentleman, which she considered to be decidedly attractive and distinguished ; it was also a marked contrast to her husband’s manly, baritone quality of voice. Mrs. Houghton was very fond of novels of the gushing typo, where wives are misunderstood, where the moonlight sensibility, the tender poetry of their exquisite natures are uncomprehended by the almost brutal, uncompromising common sense of vulgar, matter-of-fact husbands. Now the Hon. Henry Sapmore, having, unfortunately, enough to live upon, passed the major part of his time in smoking opium-steeped cigarettes, playing a decidedly languid game of billiards, and reading the flimsiest novels of the day. The acquaintance of Mrs. Houghton was a decided and valuable addition to these not too exciting amusements. Her softness and delicacy toned in with the invertebrate life he was leading. That circumstance alone afforded the background of sympathy, and, of course, led to mischief. Captain Houghton was a robust, manly, determined man, very fond of his pretty wife, whom he trusted as much as man ever trusted woman. He looked upon Sapmore as a new kind of French poodle, who would be useful in amusing his wife while he went for a swim or a row, or a good ride on the breezy cliffs. His wife always professed that she was quite unable to walk, and he left her with Sapmore with perfect satisfaction, feeling that the man .dfantii.n really could hardly be taken seriously. To be jealous of such a man was impossible to a man like Captain Houghton.

One day, on going to my chambers, my clerk handed me a brief which set forth a very peculiar story. A gentleman had stabbed a lady in the neck with a penknife, and I was retained for the prosecution. The brief contained a considerable number of letters of a decidedly amatory kind, which had passed between the lady and gentleman. The case struck me as rather peculiar. Both tlie persons principally concerned had been staying at S , a very popular watering place ; the lady was married, and the gentleman bore a well-known aristocratic name. The case Avas to be tried in a few days, and my solicitor Avas to call on me in the course of the day. This he did, and he made mo acquainted with all the facts of the case as already set forth, and handed me several letters and copies of others. It Avas arranged that 1 Avas to see the lady and her husband, Captain Houghton, the evening before the trial. At the time appointed they arrived at my chambers. In critical cases I never leave anything unsaid the saying of which may do good or prevent the extension of evil. So soon as I looked at the fair, weak countenance of Mrs. Houghton I felt convinced that she Avas perfectly innocent of any acted evil ; folly and thoughtlessness had been the sum total of her offence.

Referring to the letters discovered on both sides, I said, “ Of course, these are all the letters Avritten by you or received by you.” “ Oh, no,” she answered, smiling blandly.

“ Good heavens, madam !” I exclaimed ; “ there are other letters—how many, pray ?” “ About a dozen, I should think,” she ansAvered, looking at me in a surprised way.

“ It is imperative that every one of those letters should be in my hands in court to-morrow,” I replied, taking out my watch and looking at the time ; I added, “ Captain Houghton, there is a train to S in an hour, but there is no possibility of returning until early tomorrow morning. Come by the first train that leaves there, and drive direct to the court, and hand me the all-impor-tant letters. All hangs upon them. If it Avere known that letters had been kept back by you, madam, the result would be fatal to the case.”

Captain Houghton, avlio, of course, did not know anything of these letters, entered heartily into my vioAVS, and promised to start by the train indicated, and to return by first morning train. “ Now, Mrs. Houghton, I must beg for your indulgence Avliile I say something very painful for me to say, and equally unpleasant for you to hear, but Avhich it is my imperative duty to utter. Believe me, I do not for one single instant doubt that in all but letters and Avords your relations with the lion. Henry Sapmore have been perfectly pure ; but at the same time, as your counsel, I should like to hear your explicit denial. It is barely possible the counsel for the defence may ask you the very question 1 am obliged to put to you, and your categorical denial to me now will considerably strengthen my hands.” This Avas a very, very painful moment for me, but Avhen 1 saAv the expression of Mrs. Houghton’s face, and saw the way in which she gripped her husband's hand, I knew it Avas all right, and I gave n'sigh of relief. “ No, Mr. Gane,” she said, “ on the salvation of my soul, no !”

Captain Houghton, for whom I felt a deep respect and liking for his chival-

1 rans frtisf In tits pretty wife, went speeding through the dark night, his mind bent od one point—the recovery of the missing letters. My only anxiety now was the fear lest the counsel for the defence should attribute anything beyond folly to mv interesting client, and should ask her the terrible question I have ventured to put to her. The morning of the trial came, and the Hon. Henry Sapmore, with his moustache in a very limp condition, appeared face to face with the lady he, in a moment of mental aberration, had cruelly wounded. His counsel approached the point I dreaded very closely indeed, but the Judge made no attempt to conceal his sympathy was strongly with the lady, and showed a great and praiseworthv reluctance to the introduction of the letters. The simple, innocent appearance of Mrs. Houghton, and the manly conduct of her husband in so firmly supporting his wife in her terribly difficult position, so open to adverse criticism, undoubtedly told terribly heavily against the very weak-minded accused, whose small brain had been so steeped in alcohol, nicotine, and opium that he was hardly accountable for his actions. I was personally surprised and pained when, after the jury had given a verdict of “ Guilty,” his lordship sentenced the lion. Henry Sapmore to five years’ penal servitude. Mrs. Houghton, in the form of a scar ou her pretty white neck, w ’ll carry the mark of her folly to the end of her life.—“ The Million.”