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BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM.

NOW FIRST PUBLISHED.

BY B. L. FARJKON, Author of" No. 119, Groat Porter Square," " Grif," "The March of Fate," "For the Defence,"" Aaron the Jew," etc.

(All Rights Kese&ved.l

CHAPTER XVI.

Men have been driven mad by physical torture, and under the pressure of mental agony some have losb their reason. Upon no other grounds can I account for my conduct after this last crushing blow fell upon me. I offer no excuses. My wife's theory—pub forward in palliation of her own misconduct—that man is nob responsible for his actions, is entirely opposed to my view. For what I did during that dolorous time I was and am accountable. I sinned, and have been punished; and little did I deserve the heavenly consolation administered to me in the darkest hour of my life.

I did nob reply to the editor's letter. Tho charges brought against me were supported by evidence bo crushing that it would have been folly to suppose that my bare word could shake it. I had nothing else to offer, not a witness to bring forward who would testify to the wickedness of which I was a victim. My own kith and kin were my accusers, and I stood alone, unarmed, and in the eyes of the world convicted of the foulest crime.

I did not go home that day or night, Dazed and forlorn, I wandered, an outcast, through the streets and over the bridges. Sometimes I paused, and with a dull, inattentive eye, gazed upon tho stirring phantasmagoria of the city's life, or bent over the parapet of tho bridges, and caught the hushed swish of the river against the buttresses. I felt neither hunger nor thirst, and did not eat or drink, having no desire or craving for food. My senses, physically and mentally, must have been in a torpid state, for when I became conscious of surrounding circumstances I saw that it was raining hard, and must have been raining for hours. I looked at my watch; it was ten o'clock ; and I was ab the south end of Westminster Bridge.

At a short distance from me was a small group of persons, numbering six in all—l remember that I counted them almost audibly—four converted, two unconverted. One of the four, a man, was preaching; another limn was holding a large umbrella over a woman, who sat before a harmonium ; by thoir side was a fourth, an Old man, white • haired, who stood b.tro - headed. These were the converted. Of tho (wo unconverted who formed the audience ono was a beetle-browed man of about forty, the other a young girl not out of her teens. They were all of the lower classes, all poor, and the one umbrella they had between them was not for the protection of tho human from tho rain, but for tho protection of the instrument.

That the browed man was not in sympathy with the preaching was cloar enough ; his ears took in the word?, and his eyes flashed mockery, though he did not interrupt tho servico. Whether tho girl was or was not in sympathy with it was not so clear, her attention being chiefly divided between the scoffer and the weather. She shivered and laughed, and now and then her body lurched slightly. I was familiar with the signs, and though she was fair to tho eye, I bad no pity for her.

I approached nearer to the group, and my eyes followed the cue of the other man in the audience. The woman who sat before the harmonium looked up an my approach with a kind of eager gladness, but observing my inclination to side with the scoffer, she lowered her head and sighed. My senses, heretofore dead to external impressions, had become suddenly and strangely sharpened. Not a word, not a gesture, nor the meaning in either, escaped me. Meanwhile the rain poured down steadily upon us. The preaching was of tho usual orderplatitudes, platitudes, platitudes-nothing new, nothing fresh, no original application of Divine power to mundane affairs—but the preacher and his comrades wero in deadly earnest. He was not an educated man, nor a good speakor; nevertheless, there was in his method a rugged power which would have made its mark upon an audience sympathetically inclined and willing to be led. His sermon over, the woman struck up the air of a hymn upon the harmonium, and the four sang with fervour. Towards tho end the girl piped a note or two in a thin foolish treble, then stopped and simpered, then nudged tho beetle-browed man, receiving for her pains a scowl which caused her to edge nearer to me. I scowled upon her, too, and this second rebuff drew from her the weaklydefiant words, " Who cares?" "Ah," ejaculated tho scoffer, "who cares The answor came from the old man. "My brother, God cares." Loud laughed the scoffera harsh, hearty, joyless laugh. "There is no God 1" he cried, and turnod on his heel. I also turned away, echoing " There is no God !" And in my hoart believed it. 1 had not proceeded a dozen yards before 1 was conscious of being followed. A coarse hand touched my arm, and I saw the girl at my side. "It's awful, ain't it!" she said, with a

shiver. " What is?" I asked, sullenly. "Tlia rain—anil no God—everything. I say— us a copper." I throw some silver on the pavement, and she flung herself upon it with hysterical eagerness. "He was right," I muttered, as I walked away, " there is no God 1"

CHAPTER XVII. It was well on in the afternoon when I entered ray house. I had been to my chambers, anil having transacted some business which the change in my affairs seemed to mo to render imperative, I gave up the koys, and turned my back for ever upon the brighter sido of my existence. I had also visited a clergyman and a barrister with whom I had a slight acquaintance ; it was waste power, time thrown away, and I must have paid the visits without the least hope of deriving any good from them. Perhaps it was done to justify myself in some dosperate course to which I might be driven. I laid my case before them, and furnished them with all the revolting details. " What is it you want me to do ?" asked the clergyman. " Advise me. Ib is not in the power of the Church to release me—only tho law can do that—but you may give me counsel that will help me through." " Plainly, you would put your wife from you." " With all my heart and soul would I do bo if I saw the way."

" But here you are controlled by the law of God. Whom He hath joined cannot be put asunder. You are worn and excited, In a calmer mood you will think differently." " Never—never!"

" You will. Summon a man's wisdom, a man's fortitude to your aid. Be patient with your wife. Talk to her gently; show her the inevitable end of her excesses."

" I have done so in vain."

" Even if you have done so seventy and seven times you must still persevere. If lovo will not prevail, fear may."

" She goes from bad to worse. Have I nob told you she has ruined my life 1" "There may be faults on both sides. Search your own heart; nono of us are free from error. 1 repeat, be patient, be gentle, bear with her. Remember your marriage vows. She is bone of your bone, flesh of your flesh.'' Thus he went on, much after tho style of the street preacher, but with a suavor manner and in a smoother voice.

I stopped tho flow with the scornful exclamation, " The common jargon !" and saw that I had offended him.

" As it is," he said, more coldly, " I have heard only one side. Both of you would find comfort in prayer." " She makes great pretonce at that, and has what she calls a prayer-room, in which sho spends most of her time." "Humbling herself before the Divine Throne. She recognises her imperfections, and she prays for strength. It speaks well for her."

"Her principal occupation in that room is to drink herself to the level of tho benst." "Judge not lest ye be judged," he said, with solemn impotence. " Candidly, you have aroused my pity for your poor wife."

Failure—placed in a false light by my own words—always failure. And 80 witn the barrister. . ... As I did not bring a charge of infidelity against ray wife, he Baid that she was a pure woman, and when I echoed the words bitterly he added; " Certainly, in the eyes of the law. We are discussing the legal aspects of the case." fie then spoke of cruelty, and when I described the mental torture to which I was subjected, he replied that the law did not recognise mental cruelty. As for her bestial habits, her being drunk for days together, he said 1 ought to know, from the articles on the drink question I had myself written, that a marriage could not be dissolved on those grounds. I was dumb. I had not thought of applying thoao disclosures to my own private affairs. "There is no escape for a man placed in such a position J" I asked. "None," he answered. "You navo yourself treated that branch of the subject very skilfully, Whatever the individual Injustice, the law must be obeyed. I understand now why you wroto so earnestly.' 1 That was all the comfort I got from him, and I left him with an impression in ray mind that he regarded me with curiosity rathor than with pity. It may be that he envied me the opportunities which lay at my door for the study of a deeply interesting theme. As 1 walked towards my homo 1 was overcome with faintness, and I reeled like a drunken man. Then I recollected that food had not passed my lips sinco breakfast yosterday morning. I enterod the nearest restaurant— happened to be a publichouse— standing at the counter, ate some sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs. The barmaid asked what I would take to drink, and for a moment I thought of calling for brandy, but it was not on that occasion I broke my vow never to touch spirituous liquor. I drank a glass of lemonade, and pursued my homoward way. As I entered the house I heard Barbara moaning and gibbering upstairs. The sounds were familiar to me, and it was with a sickoning feeling that I enterod the sittingroom. Maxwell was there and my step-

mother. Maxwoll was quite composed ; my stepmother looked rathor scared at my sudden entrance and wild appearance. They did not welcomo mo with effusion. Maxwoll made tho remark that they had been wondering what had become of mo, and he inquired why I had not come homo last night. I did not answor him. My stepmother volunteered the information that poor Barbara was very ill. n " you had hotter not go up to her," she said. "The sight of you will make hor worse." . Neither did I reply to her. Their presence was so hateful to me that I left the room unceremoniously. They followed me into the passage, and, my foot on the stairs, some words of what passed between them reached my ears. " .Mad, I think,'' said my stepmother. "Looks remarkably liko it," responded Maxwell, pulling at his moustache. "Or, lot us be charitable, and put it down to drink," " Supposing," she said, and finished the sentence in a whisper.

I stepped back. "Supposing you drove mer mad between you," I said, "there would bo an end of me, and you and my wife would have control of my property. Is that it, dear friends?"

They looked ab each other, and my stopmother said, boldly: "Decidedly mad. Not a doubt of it." " No, dear .stepmother," 1 ."aid, my voice and manner expressing detestation of her, "not yet mad. Sane as yoursolves. You remind me of an omission which I must repair. I have not made my will ; it is a thine that ought not to be neglected. Not) one of you shall profit by it, I promise you. Pray let mo know what you are in my house for." " We are here to protect my sister from your brutality," said Maxwoll, and it pleased me to see that I had disconcerted

them. "Indeed! From my brutality! Of which you have already (riven evidence in your secret court of inquiry. And your sister, too. Thero was a time when I fancied thero was no great love on either side. You pair of scheming devils! I will show you that I am master hero. Out! tho pair of you ! Out of my house I" And 1 advanced towards them with so threatening an air that they began to retreat. " We will see what the law says to this," blustered Maxwell. "We have witnesses

snoiitrh."

" False witnesses — false testimony. When you come to consider the matter it may not suit your purpose to appeal to the lav. Establish that, ray wife lives in fear of me, and thai I am systematically cruel to her, and you will succeed in obtaining a judicial separation. I shall not. thwart you, for it is what I pray for. The courts award her maintenance, the income of a third of what I am worth. Then 1 am free, and you and she can trouble me no more. Freo ! Can you understand what that means tome? Fools! I have ulfored her more than a third, and she has refused. Why, if I gave her cause for a complete divorce she would not avail herself of it. She is too good a wifo, too pure, too mindful of her wifely duties to desert the husband she lores so well."

(To be continued on Saturday next,

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZH18960318.2.8

Bibliographic details

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10082, 18 March 1896, Page 3

Word Count
2,326

BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM. New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10082, 18 March 1896, Page 3

BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM. New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10082, 18 March 1896, Page 3

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