HOW FIRST PUBLISHED. BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10043, 1 February 1896, Page 3 (Supplement)

HOW FIRST PUBLISHED. BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM.

BY B. 1.. FAR.IKON, Author of "X". 11«, Great Porter Square," " Grif, ••The March of Fate," "''"or the Defence,"" Aaron the Jew," etc. (All Rights JtESERVED.J SYNOPSIS OF PBKVWI'S CHAPTERS. nuiTHis I and 11. -John i ..r.ltuim. Nt an early Afier £',» >• '- 'f "«.*«* At ~,„ ~., ,„• he . r ,IS'. ,1 le ves home. At the Aft of 21 ' ,",", • l >■» li ' ..Lara Maxwell. Her In other l "" l^!!;;"f • '■ .which fa (!i«« him. He '"' hV l rlin »iih'.ul learning her true , "rter. A! i\»fllj«rnn;ly Ulla John that she is ill lib mi ■»■ CHAPTER IV. The nest day we were in Pari*. We had ■i n.i-ci.dile crossing and two miserable railway journeys. On neither of the lines .•.mid 1 get a cotnn.uiin.Mit to ourselves, Ml, the French and English trains being rr „H lod to excess. 0;i Iho steamboat liarWra iias very ill. and 1 gave her into •■,., charge of the stewardess, being too , l!lWe myself to altrn Ito her. We were not, as may he imagine,!, a very cheerful wu'pie. nor was lli.< a cheertul commence„;,,,t of our hoiioyi.i.«.... I did ">>' bwthowever, to keep up Iv.rbaris spirits, but the, continued be .-ad and despondent, and ,ii,, not rally l.'l we teaehe I the guy city. The bright «un-nii "1 the animation of the streets oil won Ins ur us. I held her mIU | in mi.i" a-we hove to the hotel in which 1 hi I engaged rooms, and life wumed a joyful aspcet. The colour came .jraiu to Barbara's cheeks, the sparkle to licrev^s.

"Tho worst is over, dearest," I said, '• an lwe are together—and alotiQ."

>V j'iv---.i my hand loudly. Was 1 redly in love? 1 cannot answer. The lilt of ymi'li was in my veins, (lie 1 jiit of hope «a« in my heart. Call it «nat you will-love, piiwion, desire— Ji.trbau was ail in all to me, and our tend emit ,rmctiis ran-.I the hours to fly in lightning speed, i'iie embarrassments and mot fictitious of yesterday were torgotten; to-day was ours, to enjoy. We dined at the hot.-!, by Baiban's plate a candle of iet.l »:.; i, by mine a bottle of old Htirgundj. At nine o'clock, knowing that Barbara had sonic unpacking to do— for it was my intention to remain in l'aris a week —i said Unit i would tike a stroll in the street.-, and would return at ten. "It will take me quite two hours,"she said, with a trembling eagerness in her voice, "to get my boxes in order.' 1 '• I will return at eleven,"! said gaily, kissing her. 1 strolled through the brilliantly-lighted meets in a dream of deliirht There was 1,0 Maxwell near to disturb me with his mocking laughter. Barbara was her bright fed again, and the and 1 were man and wi:e. ".Man and wife," I murmured. "Nothing can cime between us now, nothing can F'.'iur.iie us. She is mine for ever, lam K..UV a married man.". I -aw in ihe window of a jeweller's shop a In i-ii'h wi'.h two hearts entwined. It was i'ir.!>it>nutic..l ot Barbara's he.ut and mint, and I went in nlld put chased it, and pur-rha.-ed also at a florin's a bouquet of the loveoest flowers. It was now ten o'clock, and 1 had -til! an hour to myself. A long time to carry a large bouquet of flowers amidst a throng oi people, but what cared 1? Why should I hide my happiness? Was 1 not proud of my beautiful Barbara, whose pure and innocent heart I had won, and whose sweet companionship wo'ild brighten my days till we wete both old and whitehaired? Let the whole world know that the flowers were for my bride—lot the whole world know that I was in love. Was not this the city of love? The hum of merry voices proclaimed it—the myriad stars, the ?oft air, the brilliant lights, the animated gestures of men and women, all proclaimed it. There were no dark shadows to blot the bright picture; joy was universal: there was no sadness, no death, no cankered care to wither the glad hopes of the luture —all was light and love. A quarter-past ten. How slowly now the minutes went by, what a hg>/ard now was time—because Barbara was not by my side ! Step more briskly, old man—tue bridegroom is going to his bride. The words of an old song came to my mind, " When time was young.'' Were you ever young, old man? Were you ever a biidegroom? They were musical words, "When time was young, when time was young," and as I sang them in a silent voice I gazed at the lovely fresh flowers I carried, and no thought, disturbed me that to-morrow they would be withered and the next day dead, Half-past ten. I stood outside the Vaudeville and watched the merry faces issuing from the lobby. An act of a famous comedy was over,and some of the audience, panting for fresh air, came into the open Laughter was added to light and love. " I will take Barbara to see this come iy before we leave Paris," I thought. It was always Barbara. She was the life blood of everything around and within me; -he was the keynote of all circumstance. Barbara, Barbara, Barbara! Surely there was music in the name. Without her could the world have ever been? A dead world, indeed, without Barbara. A quarter to eleven. Only a few minutes now to wait. I hastened to the hotel of which she was the sun, and paced the boulevard, a few yard- this way, a few yards that, and strolled into the court yard, and looked tit my watch, an J impatiently counted the seconds, and fretted and fumed until the minute hand reached eleven. Then I eagerly mounted the stairs and entered our sitting-room. Tho lights were burning, and the room had a cheerful appearance. A communicating door led to the bedroom, and I listened at I his door a moment, but heard no sound from within. I arranged the bouquet of flowers in a vase, which 1 filled with water, and then I tinned out the lights, with the intention of entering our bridal chamber. But. the door was fast. I tried very softly again and again to open it, and then' with greater force, but it would not yield. " Barbara," I called, in a low tone, "it is I, Why have you locked the door ?" No answer reached my ears. I called several times, with the same result. Long before this I had become alarmed, and had re-lit the gas in the sitting-room. Stories of dark crimes committed in this city of light flashed through my mind. The door was locked, but that might be a blind. It was scarcely possible that Barbara could be in the room; she had been decoyed from the hotel upon some false pretence, perhaps by the delivery of a false message from me. If so, what would be her fate? And even supposing her to be in her room, how to account for this frightful silence? Fool, criminal that 1 was to leave her alone, a helpless woman in a strange city ! It was I and I alone, who had brought the woman I loved into this perilous position. I rushed down to the manager of the hotel, and asked if any visitors had been admitted into my rooms during my absence, or any message delivered to my wife. The manager, who was the soul of politeness, and who was smoking a cigarette after the labours of the day, made inquiries of the concierge and of the servants who had not retired to rest. No person had called to see madamo; no message had been taken to her; sho had nob been seen to leave the hotel. Had she rung for refreshment or assistance? Mo. Had any sounds of disturbance been heard in her apartment? No, the apartment had been perfectly quiet. Were they certain that madamo could not have left the hotel without being seen ? It was not possible. She would ha/e had to pass through the courtyard, and the concierge or an assistant was constantly on the watch, noting who came and who went. Then, how to account for the facts of her bedroom door being lockod and of her not answering to my call? The servants could not account for it; the manager could not account for it. With profuse apologies he hazarded a suggestion. Was niadamo subject to fainting fits? Was it that she bad swooned? With my permission ho would accompany me to the apartment and together wo would ascertain. We ascertained nothing, we discovered no due to the mystery. Tho door defied all our efforts to open it, and no reply was given to our summons, The suspense was maddening. ,

"Seo, moiißieur," said the manager, stooping and putting his eye to tho keyhole, " the door is looked from within. Thekoy is in tho lock. Bo tranquil; madame is safe; sho has fallen into a sound sleep. I myself sloop so soundly that--" I interrupted him impatiently. " If my wife has fallen asleep she must bo awakened." Ho did not see the necessity ; if I would bo patient madame would horsolf awake when she had slept enough; then all would bewell. "My wife must be awakened," I repeatod vehemently. Undoubtedly," ho then said, falling complacently into my humour. "If you insist, monsieur, madame must bo awakened." "Buthow?" Icried.inafoverof anxiety, which with every passing moment grew more intense. "As monsieur says," ho replied, with exasperating coolnoss, but how?" " The lock must bo forced." "A million pardons, monsieur, Tho lock of this door is of a particular kind. It is not a common lock—no, no. It was put on especially for a distinguished visitor, who frequently occupies this apartment, It is what is called a patent lock, and is the property of our distinguished visitor. I cannot consent that it shall bo forced." "Then wo will have a piece cut out of tho door. By that mean? wo can react) the key, and turn tho lock from within." "Again, a million pardons. The door is of oak ; it was made for our distinguished visitor. I cannot consent, raonsiour, that tho door shall bo destroyed." " Hang you ! Stand asido 1" I pushed him away, and applied my shoulder to the door. I was young, I was strong, but I might as well have set myself against a rock. The door held firm and fast, and the noise I made did not arouse Barbara. Kvcn in tho midst of my despair I heard the manager remark, "These eccentric English!" Finding my efforts vain I beat the panels with my fists. A servant entered, and whispered to the manager. "Desist, monsieur," ho said, stepping forward, " you ara disturbing our visitors. It cannot be permitted. In tho adjoining apartment is a sick gentleman. He has already inquired whether there is a tiro or an earthquake. If monsiour pleases, there is another way." "What is it? Quick—quick !'' "The window of tnudamo's room looks out upon » courtyard at the back. It is easily reached by a ladder. Tho night is warm ; madame may have left) hor window unfastened—" I stopped any further explanation by hurrying him to the courtyard at the back. On the way he insisted upon informing mo that the hotel was of the highest character and eminently respectable. No robbery had ever taken place in it, no crime had ever been committed within its walls. Madame was fatigued by her journey, and had probably taken an opiate. I should find her asleep in her bed, quito safe-quite safe. " The ladder—the ladder I cried, in a frenzy. " Where is the ladder ?" It was soon brought- though I thought it an age before it was fixed against tho wall —and a porter commenced to ascend. But I pulled him back with a rough hand, and said 1 would go up myself. " These eccentric English !" I heard the manager again remark to those assembled around him. His surmise was correct. The window was closed, but not fastoned ; I pushed it open, and stepped into the room. It was dark, but by the light admitted through the open window I saw the form of my wife huddled upon the bed. I laid my hands upon her, and called, "Barbaradear Barbara I" A faint moan was tho only response. "Great God!" I cried. " Sho is dying I swiftly lighted tho gas, and the room was flooded with light. Then I discovered the horrible truth. An empty brandy bottle rolled from the bed to the floor, and on the dressing-table was a corkscrew, with the cork still in it. The cork was new and tho bright capsule by its side denoted that the bottle muse have been full when it had been opened. I bent over Barbara's stupefied form, tho fumes of liquor which tainted her hot breath wore sickening. My wifo was not dying. Sho was drunk I The whole room was in a state of disorder ; the bed curtains were torn, articles of feminine attire were scattered about, brushes and combs and othor toilet requisites had been swept from the table, a chair had been upset; but at that moment I took little note of these signs, my attention being centred upon the degrading human spectacle which lay before me on the bed—my wife, the woman I had idealised as an embodiment of purity and simplicity. I was not allowed to remain long undisturbed ; I heard a smart rapping at the bedroom door, and I became instantly conscious that I had a new part to play. I closed and fastened the window, and drew the curtains across it; I lowered the gas almost to vanishing point, and then, turning the key in the lock, I opened the door just wide enough to see the manager's face. " Madame is safe?'' he inquired. " Quite safe," I replied. "As I said. Asleep." " Yes, asleep." "As I said. There has been no crime or robbery ?" " There has been no crime or robbery." "And madame is well?" "Quite well." " I trust you are satisfied, monsieur." "Perfectly satisfied." " Is anything more required ?" " Nothing more." "No assistance of any kind ? The chamber maid is hero. Shall sho attend to madame ?" " Her assistance is not needed. Goodnight." "Good night, raonsiour." As he and the attendants left the adjoining room I heard him remark, for the third time, " These eccentric English !" [To he continued on Weduesilay next]