BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10109, 18 April 1896, Page 3 (Supplement)

BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM.

NOW FIRST PUBLISHED.

BY B. L. FARJKON, Author of "No. 119, Great Porter Square," " o'if/ "The March of Fate," " For the Defence," " Aura* the Jew," etc.

[All Bights Reserved.]

CHAPTER XXV.—(Continued.) Things wont from bad to worse with mo. Driven by necessity I wandered from placo to place, and there soernod to be no rest for the solo of my foot. When I pliod my pick on the goldfields I worked as " a lmttor,' by which is meant a man who works singlehandod. I spoilt weeks and woeks prospecting for gold and finding none. Bad luck dogged me whorevor I went, whatever I undertook. I hid a reasonable longing for money—for tho sake of my dear Ellen and my boy, and once I missed a great fortune.

I had boon compellod to part with all my belongings excopt a short-handled pick. All my other tools were gone, and tent and blankets as well *, not a shilling in my pocketa, but happily the best part of a cako of cavendish and a cutty. No man knows tho comfort that lies in a pipo of tobacco as a bushman doas; it has sustained tho courage of many a man in as desperate a plight as I was on that day. I had started in the early morning for a cattle station where I had heard there was the chaneo of a job, and towards evening found that I had missed my way. Had there boon such twilight as we enjoy in England there would have been time to get into the right track, but in Australia night treads close upon the shallows of evening. It was not the first timo I had been " bushed," and I accepted tho position as cheerfully as my circumstances would permit. The night was fine, the sky was filled with stars, tho air was sweot and warm. I had camped out under mora favourable conditions, but I made tho bast of this, comforting myself wi«h tho reflection that I had only a few hours to wait bofore I obtained a meal at the cattlo station I had missed. Moanwhile I eiaokod my pipe, and soon afterwards foil anluop upon a bed of dry leaves. I was up with the sun, and was about to resume my search for tho lost track wlion my eyes fell upon a range of hills studded with quartz. I thought of the storioa I had hoard of rich reefs being accidentally discovered by men who had lost their way in the bush, and considered that it was as likely to happen to me as to another. It is true I was hungry, but I could hold 011 a bit longer, and I determined to spend an hour or two in prospecting. So to it I wont-, selecting the most likely-looking hill, 011 tho uppermost ridge of which rested a huge boulder of quartz, which a vivid imagination might have converted into the fantastic imago of a human monster. Detaching soino pieces of stone from the base of this boulder I saw fine specks of gold in them in sufficient quantity to give promise of a paying reef. The specks were so finely distributed that tlioy could only be won by the aid of fire, water, and quicksilver, and tho pulverising stampi of a crushing machine. Tho discovery was, therefore, valueless to mo in its power to reliove ray present necessities, but I marked the spot, and determined to return to It when my circumstances wero more favourable to tho opening of a now reef. I reachod tho cattle station in the evoning, and to my disappointment learned that there was no work for me. The kindhearUd peopl* on the station gave mo a plentiful supper and a shake-down, and when I rose the next morning to continue my wanderings I was not allowed to depart empty-handed. The lifo I led in the colonies was rough and hard, but it was studded with stars of human kindness which I oan never forget. Six months afterwards I was in a position —luring a few pounds in my pocket—to visit the quartz ranges I had prospocted, my intention being to work off a prospector's claim and sot to work. Other nion were before mo; every inch of ground north and south was marked off for miles, and a thousand miners wero at work. The huge boulder in which I found specks of gold had been blasted away, and I was informed that a wonderful amount of gold had been taken from it. The claim upon which it had stood was tho richest on tho line of reef, the stono averaging five or six ounces to the ton. A quartz-crushing machine had been erected, and merrily pounding away. With a sigh I turned my back upon the Eldorado I was the first to discover. Hundreds of other men on tho goldfields have missed fortune in the samo manner by a hair's breadth.

I will not prolong this record of my throe years' sojourn in Australia. At the expiration of this time a stroke of good fortune really fell to my share, and then it was thub I received nows of an event which changed the current of my life, and led to the unconscious committal of the crimo for which I must answer to the law. On a partially deserted goldfield, whore there were still a foiv miners at work on claims which were supposed to be worked out, I took possession of a shaft, and in one of tho pillars I found a "pocket" of gold which in loss than a fortnight yielded mo botwooQ fifty and sixty ounces. Mammon worship is an evil instinct, but gold can bring unalloyed joy to suffering hearts. It brought joy to mine. I was sorely tempted. Longing for home, for a sight of Ellen and my boy, had for some time past assailed mo; thoro had beou hours when I rebelled against my lot, when it needed all my moral strength to overcome tho anguish of my soul. I had now tho moans to gratify ray cherished desire; why should I not do so! Debating the riaks of the adventure, I was tossed this way and that, now held back by the fear that my presence in London might bo discovered by my enemies to the disturbance of the lifo of peace which Ellon was enjoying, now encouraged by my ardent wish to clasp my dear ones in my arms. The question, however, was decided for mo. A mail from homo was duo, and I was oxpecting my monthly packot of letters, ; which 1 had directed to bo forwarded to a neighbouring township. So anxious was I that I sot off for this township in the middle of the night. Tho mail had arrived, and was boing delivered. Scores of bearded mon were clustered aboub the woodon building in anxious expectation. Some came away from tho little window with joy on their faces, tome fell back with a sigh of disappointment. Tho strength of the human tie which binds heart to heart is nowhere moro strikingly displayed than 011 these distant shores, where groups of rough stalwart men hurry to tho post office in the hope of receiving letters from homo. _ My packet was handed to me, and I stood aside to open it. Ellen's budget I put into my pocket; I could not read her loving words with prying eyes around mo. Tho lawyer's letter was bulkier than usual, and I tore ib opon. 1 road bub a few lines when I reeled.

" Hold up, mato," oried a man, catching ma by the arm. " Bad news!" "No, no," I rautterod, and the denial struck mo like a spiritual blow the tnomonb it was uttered. To somo men the news which caused this shock would havo brought a never-to-ba-forgotten sorrow. To me it brought roloase from a chain vhioh had galled my soul. Barbara was dead!

It would be the worst kind of hypocrisy to nay that I felt as a man fools at the loss of one who is dear to him. Ib was impossible— impossible. There are those who doem it fitting to assume a grief which finds no place in their hearts ; it is common to see white handkerchiefs hold before tearless oyes. Let ib tell against ms thab I neither folt nor assumed such sorrow. Equally wrong—and an the same time unjust to myself—would ib be to say that I rejoiced. But an immense weight was lifted from my heart, Barbara was dead, and I was fro* I

Yos, freo to marry Ellon, to commence a new and purer life, to have a home which I could enter without fear; a home where love awaited ray earning, where I could look in my child's face without shame, where I could show by my devotion how deeply I appreciated the sacrifices his dear mother had made for me. To remove the stigma which in the eyes of the world was attached to Elle>n through her association with me—to give her my name, to call her "wife,"— this nothing to bo grateful for! Was it for this that I should put on a mournful face and conjure false tears into my eyes? No. Heaven had sent me relief, had proclaimed that my long agony was over, had lifted the curse from me. It was not for mo to play tho hypocrite. My agitation somewhat subdued, I set myself to the perusal of the lawyer's letter. Tho details of Barbara's death wero shocking and startling. Hor depraved habits had been tho cause of a miserable tragedy. The letter stated that the first intelligence the writer rocoived of the event was through the newspapers, cuttings from which he enclosed. My wife, it seems, had not removed from her lodgings in Islington where I last saw her. In the middle of the night an alarm of tiro was raised, and the lodgers in tho house had great difficulty in escaping. Barbara had not been thought of. She did nob make her appearance, and no cries proceedod from her room. When she was missed tho firemen made their way to her apartment, and brought out her charred body, Tho fire, it was proved, had originated in her bedroom, and it was supposed that she overturned a lighted candle, and so caused the catastrophe. Among the newspaper cuttings was a report of tho inquest, which my solicitor had attended, and evidence was given of Barbara's dopraved habits, one witness stating that "she was drunk from night till morning, and from morning till night," a statement which .Maxwell declared, was a calumny. His sistor had dreadful troubles; hor married life was most unhappy, but she suffered in silence. His attempts to bring obloquy upon 1110 wore frustrated by my solicitor and the evidence of the doctors. Tho latter proved that she must have been a confirmed dipsomaniac for years; the former produced receipts for tho allowance 1 made hor. Tho verdict was in accordance with the evidence.

After the funeral, the arrangements for which wero made by my solicitor, Maxwell callod upon him with a document purporting to bu Barbara's will, in which tho left everything; to him, including tho £300 ayearl had allowed her. Upun my solicitor suggesting that ho should take legal steps to obtain what ho called "his rights," ho offered to compromise and to forego his claim for a stated sum. This being scouted, he asked whether it would not bo worth my while to give him a smaller sum to got rid of him for ever. My solicitor replied that that • was a matter for my consideration upon ray return home, but that he should advise me not to give him a shilling, and there the matter ended. My solicitor said ho had gathered from my letters that I had not prospered in the colonies, and that my presence at homo was necessary for tho settlement of my financial affairs, and that ho enclosed mo a draft for £200 to defray tbo expenses of my passage and outfit. Ellen's lotter was of the usual affectionate nature, somewhat steadier in tone because of tho tragedy which she had read in the papers. She expressed herself most pitifully towards Barbara, whose errors wore expatiated by her death. " She is now at peace, and I am sure you will have nono but tendor thoughts for her." Nobility of soul, in alliance with tho tendorest feeling and tho purest sentiments, shone forth in evory lino. It softened my heart towards the dead ; it made me solemnly grateful for the living. She said not a word about her position and my intentions. She trusted mo and had faith in me. Conscious that I would do what it was rieht to do, sho mado not the most remote reference to our future.

Our future! How brightly it spread beforo me. There was a new sweetness in the air, a fairer colour in the skies. How strangely, how strangoly are woo and joy commingled ! Blosscd with a good woman's love, with no fear of poverty beforo me, I would not havo changed places with tho highest in tho world. Tho money I had capitalisod to secure Barbara's allowance was not without a chango upon it, and reverted to me. Tho future was assured, the way was cloar, tho sun shone upon a flower strewn path. Alas ! the reality ! There whs nothing to detain me a day longer in the colonies; the richest claim 011 the goldtiolds would not have tempted me to delay my journey homo. I had monoy enough for con ton!, and love made mo rich. I looked through the shipping advertisements in a Melbourne newspaper. A mail steamer was advertised to leave for ljondon this very day; I could not catch it, and I should havo to wait a fortnight for tho next. Another merchant steamer was to leave for Liverpool in two days. I determined to tako paseago in it. I could get to Molbourno in timo. As I walked to tho telegraph office, the man who had saved me from falling when I opened my solicitor's letter passed by and looked mo in the face. " Better, mate?'' ho asked.

" Yes,'' I answered. "It was good news, then?" he said. "Ye»,"lsaid mechanically, and caught my breath. What if I had told him that the good nows was tho death of my wife ? From the telegraph office I despatched throe messages. One to tno shipping agent in Melbourne to socuro a cabin in tho outgoing steamer; tho second to my solicitor in London, announcing my intended departure from the colony ; tho third to Ellon, " I am coming home." Wondorful was tho contrast between this soa voyago and the lass I had undertaken. For the greater part of the time I think I must havo boon tho happiest man on board. On tho first voyage I had schoolod myself into resignation and submission to my fate, and had taken but a fitful interest in tho novel aspects of life by which I was surrounded.* Now they appealed to me sympathetically, and I instinctively responded to tho appeal. I chatted and mado friends, I found zest in the simple ainuuoinents of ship life. I spent many happy hours in contemplation of the future, and in arranging tho details. Ellen and I would go to some quiet country place, where we were not known, and there we would get married. Dociding not to livo in London, we would discuss together in what part of England wo would malto our home. Tho sunniest month of my lifo had been passed in Swannai;e, and I would havo chosen that delightful spot bocause of its memories, and bocauso it would havo been Ellon's choice, had I nob beon restrained by the thought of Maxwell. Although with Barbara's death his powor over me had practically disappeared, still in tho circumstances of our lifo in Swannage—Ellen a single woman, and I a marriod man living apart from my wifeMaxwell's malice might sow thorns in our path. As far as was possible, this must bo avoidod. Wo must) select some part of England where wo were strangers, where tho people we mixed with had no personal experience of our past. There, in a little cottage with a garden we would pass our days, and there I would resume my literary labours, and under a nom de plume strive to obtain a footing in the field most congenial to me. My adventures on the gold fields would supply ma with attractive themes.

In this endeavour I had no personal vanity to serve: it was simply that I recognised the mischief of living an idle life. I would have no more wasted days. If I did not succeed with the pen I would bring my muscles into piny. I laughed as tlio idea occurred to mo that I might eventually become a market pardoner, a cultivator of fruits. Straightway my thoughts travelled gaily in that direction. Towards the end of the voyage I became impatient. The nearer we got to England the greater was my eagerness to seo Ellen. I was on the threshold of a new existence, and I was in a fover to cross it. This uncontrollable desire burnb within me to the oxolusion of every othor topic. I became restless and abstracted, and I withdrew from cordial relationship with my fellowpassengers. This moodfor which I cannot account except on the grounds of pure «elfiihno«s~laßtod ft week, and then I took myself to task and endeavoured to make myself companionablo; but I was not regarded with the same favour, and my society was not courted. It taught me a ioisou, and I inwardly reproached myself with ingratitude. L It is perhaps necessary to mention that I still retained the name that I had adopted, and that I appoared on the passenger list as John Fletcher. Time enough, I thought, to resume u)y 4 own name whan

Ellen and I were married. But my principal reason for retaining the name of Fletcher was tho fear that some of the passengers might havo read the account of the fire in which Barbara perished. Newspapers nowadays (leal largely in horrors, and accounts of tho fire had been published in tho Melbourne journals. Naturally I shrank from identification. The date of my arrival in Liverpool was the 30th of November, and I landed late at night in the midst of a snowstorm. From a railway guide on board ship I noted that a train for London started from Lime-street at midnight, and by this train I had decided to travel to London. Fatal decision ! Had I been struck down dead in the streets my fate would havo been the happier! [To be continued on Wednesday next.]