The Spider & the Fly.

Timaru Herald, Volume XIIC, Issue 14043, 29 October 1909, Page 2 (Supplement)

The Spider & the Fly.

(By J: Bhmdell Barrett.) m. ?_ - J--:.- X T4. ..Km T

There is a certain type of Italian 1 liate. You know the kind —yellow faced, as if everything tliey ate was cooked in oil, flatnosed, and with a thin straggle of black hairs "above the sensual mouth. It is not as Italians I hate them; it is merely that they are repulsive in themselves; and Italy seems to liavc the monopoly of tlieir production. • Often when in London aloin: I go to dine at a certain restaurant -.inch frequented by foreigners, where you get, cheaply enough, all the strange and attractive dishes of which for some, reason the orthodox JEnglisli eatingplace fights shy—risotto and 'goulash and pilaff and, above all, bouillabaisse. And tlieir omelettes and coffee are poems. Hero it was that, finding myself friendless for the evening, I went to dine one night, and I looked up from my bouilabaisso to see two people being ushered into the seats just opposite to mo across the aisle. The man exchanged commonplaces with the "waiter in Italian as lie handed him liis coat and hat, then he turned to take his scat; and in ttoiiijt so. showed me a face in which my hatred c6uld find no flaw. Sallow skin, flat nose, fat lips—tliey were all' there: the Mark of the lieast in every feature. Then 1 looked at the woman and saw that she was English, and—unless I was much mistaken —a lady by birth, fair and delicate-featured; and, oil! how wearily she sank back on the scat beside him*. And for the pathos of that blank listlessness I loathed liim all the more. Ho ordered dinner i volubly, with much gesticulation of his fat richt hand, but without consulting her. When the food came he ate as they all do, as if it wete some sort of physical exercise, with heaviugs of bis shoulders, and much smacking of the vile lips. She made pretence of playing with a knife and fork for a minute, and then relapsed into inertness and dull contemplation of the table-cloth. Never during the meal did he address one word to her. When at last he leaned back and lit a cigar it was to talk Italian politics with t'>e waiterwhile T, having naid my biP, smoked cigarette after cigarette, and sat and watched, my anger rising higher every minute. At Inst he put on lus hat. took his coat over liis arm. and, with one syllable over hLs 1 shoulder to her, rose to go, she following as one walking in her sleep. I caught them up as they (came to the swinging door that gives access to the paved passage-way leading to the street. He, going ahead, thrust the door open for himself, leaving it to swing back on her so that she staggered as she stopped it with her hand. It was Jieavy, aud she was evidently glad of my help as I leaned forward and pushed it open. In the momentary delay he had advanced soino yards ahead, but turned as she came up aud said —no matter what lie said, but tliey were brutal words, and, saving them, he caught her hv the arm* with a grip which my in itself a blow. And I, without striping to think —hit liim. 1 hit hard, for, besides the weight of my body, all the wrath that bad been boiling in mo for the last two hours went into the blow, and tor a moment I was uneasy at the way lie went down. But his bullet head was hard, and he had hardly struck the floor before he was scrambling up again, gathering together his scattered coat and hat and stick; and 1 could not lielp wondering how many F.nKlishrvifui would stop to pick up their bats and things after they had been hit. Not that lie was not angry, for lie was —almost ludicrous in bis anger, as lie came before me brandishing his'arms and clamouring in polyglot incoherence for mv arrest. Hie commissionaire from the front door was already on the scene, for a man cannot fall in a. paved covered way. shedding lint f" f l sticks, wit bent making considerable noise: and behind us a crowded group of guests and waiters

from inside. She had said nothing, but now leaned against the wall, her pale cheeks aflame, with breath coining quick, and her little hands knotting and twisting themselves together in front of her.

"Take him away!" the man was howling to the commissionaire. "Here 1 walk peaceably with my wife" —1 glanced at her and saw that he lied—"when he come up and strike me from behind''; and that, I fear, was true.

"That's aIL right," said the man in uniform quietly. "Let's hear what went beEore."

" Nothing went before. He strike me from behind. I and my wife " and again I saw her shrink at the word, and again he went over the same tale.

But from the street outside passersby, attracted by that mysterious instinct which leads people to the scene of a disturbance, had thronged into the vestibule, and these I sa\y parting as a policeman pushed his .way through. "What's all this about?" said lie. .

But, not to my surprise, my enemy suddenly cooled. "He struck me from behind," he said sulkilc, "while I was walking with my wife." And I saw the officer looked keenly at the woman, who leaned panting against the wall. " Well, you bad better all go ■home quietly now and not do it again." The Italian muttered surlily; and then an idea came to me.

"Not till we have settled this thing, officer," I said, and it was the first timo I had spoken. "I charge that man with assaulting me." t The Italian broke out into angry ejaculations, but the policeman checked him. I persisted in my charge, and, after some delay, we were all in a cab on our'wav to Bow .Street.

"I am sorry," I said to her as I helped to hand her in, "but I am sure ft is for the best." I had at the time no idea who the man was in whose presence we were ushered, who sat magisterially at bis desk while we were given chairs in a wide semicirclo about him, and the policeman w-ho_ had brought us stood up and told Tiis story. "This one," pointing to the Italian, "says he was walking quietly with his wife here when this gentleman"—and ian a gentleman—"came and knocked him down without provocation: but it's him"—indicating mc —"as charges th" other with assault." The facts were soon told, with details of hour and place, and the Inspector (let ine merely call him so} took our- names and addresses, which are immaterial, except that the Italiin sooke for the woman, saying simply, "She's my wife." Then the Inspector asked me to state the charge.

Long residence in London lias bred in me abiding confidence in the common sense of the police; so I made no attempt to invent a charge. "If yon will allow me to make n suggestion," I said. "I think it might be well if wo heard the lady's account of the matter first."

'PIio Inspector turned to her and asked omp gentle question, and then another—gentle hut very skilful—until at last the story came out, swept out hy n flood of tears. When she began she sat rigidly upright in her chair; she finished kneeling upon the hare floor wiffh her face buried in her arms upon the seat. And the tears! I had no idea that any human being could weep so piteously, or that so frail a body rould endure through, such shattering paroxisms of sobbing. I wondered- through how many days and weeks of arid misery that flood had been dammed up. It was an old story. Gentle by birth and breeding and iustinct, she had started—wilfully, doubtless—to make a living by hex voice, on pitiably small resources." The Italian was a: teacher and musical agent who, seeming kind at first, had held out promises, the fulfilment of which was always post-' poned, till at last, baffled, weary, hopeless, and iu need of mere food, she had found herself in his power. No! No! No! She was not his wife, and the shuddering vehemence with which she' denied it —denied it as something infinitely worse than her present plight —spoke volumes as to the character of the man. If only she could get away from him anyhow—anywhere! Sho could not go to her people—could not, she said—and she had nowhere to turn for even one day's food or one night's lodging. "When the broken sentences ended, tih'o huddled, body still heaved and shook with the terrible sobs that welled up from the very depths and foundations of her being. I am not ashamed that I longed to kneel by her side to comfort her. At last the Inspector spoke: " Would" you be willing," ho asked, "to put yourself in charge of our Matron for a day or two till there is time to look around?" * Yes, yes—anything to get away from him if only she could somehow be helped to stand alone and have a chance. She was sure she could make her way—certai.n of it—and even in her misery her tone took on strength: —even a note of pride—as she spoke of her confidence iu her voice. The Inspector _said. something to the policeman in a low voice, ami the latter left the room 'while we waited in silence broken only hy tile rhythmical sobbing of the figure bowed upon the chair. Presently the policeman returned and laid siharjil gently on her shoulder. "Come this; way. please, miss," he said ; and she' followed him out of the room'by: a" side door without word or look at any of us. "I Hyill send up to your address for her things in the mouiing," said the Inspector to the Italian, who sitting with his eyes fixed upon the floor, onlv grunted in reply. "And now, sir," turning to me, "do you wish to press your charge?" Not I, indeed. I had already attained far more than I hoped ; so the Italian was asked if he had any complaint to make against me. "No," ho said, jumping to his feet and thrusting his list (ratb"r late, as it seemed to me) in 1113' face, "but some day "