LITERATURE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 4159, 19 August 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

UNDBB THH MIDNIGHT LAMP.

(TifuUtf'* Magazim.) Founded on Fact. (Concluded.)

Mary still pronounced me cruel and unfeeling beyond anything she oould have conwived.

" Of course her husband is a madman, who will murder hor as aoon as he gets her into his hands. You know, John, that husbard;* are always murdering their wives. " Middle-aged wives, dear, or elderly, w: -se lives are heavily insured. I shall telegraph at once."

" Then her death f I tat your door, sir — mind that!" and to Q indignant to waste upon me more words, away went Mary to take a last peep at our own sleeping ba 1 f^, at the dead baby about which there was o much myeteiy, and the poor young me ''-r whom she hud doomed to a violent dm<.th. She was still bending over her, and had called _ie up to the bedside to notice fcho extraordinary length of the lashes, and thj beauty cf tl— face in repose, when we were startled by a knock at the front door.

" It's the husband ! I know it is ; oh John, d_n'; betray her, don't give her up; you Wouldn't be so cruel."

** Nonsense, child; watch by her till I return j if she awakes say nothing abou — "

"Herh- band; as if I should 1"

Our household having long since ret— red — long, indeed, before my return — I myself opened the door. The street lamp lighted dimly two figures; one tall, stout, aud sniffled.

" Mr Merton ?".

I answered in the affirmative. "You hay» kindly given shelter to a lady ?"

"JltotSO."

The speaker nodded to his companion, who touched his nt aud vanished. The other Stranger had row entered the hall, and grasped my hand. "Mr Trem -\ne," I asked, hesitatingly. " Captain T-eraayne," how is she ? " Asleep, us. der my wife's care • sleeping as peacefully as n child." " Thank Go! ! So young — afc i"eh an hour —in such a slate — "

I aaw a lonf. shudder run through the tail, powerful fame. " And the child ?" he added, after a pause, in a horror-stricken whisper.

"She had it with her?"

I hardly knew what to answer ; bnt he had thrown off his heavy' ulster and travelling cap, and now stood before me as handsome and pleasant and honest-looking a young fellow aB I ever caw, and my heart warmed to him. He was no assassin, or ruffian, or cowardly bully, whatever Mary might say. The shado - " of a great horror tbat lay in the blue mellv v eyes had been laid there by terror, not crime.

* 'The child if dead," he said softly ; "it died fcwo duys at r o, died suddenly in convulsions in ber an .3, and the shock turned her brain. Bhe was doing so well, poor littlo thing; but afterwards she grew delirious, and in her ravings she accused herself and me. I cou'tl do nothing; sho would not have me near her, but beat i '•.••» off with hor hands, as sho could uot bear 'c -ighfc of me. And I was so fond of her an : *?•■• of me."

Here the man broke down. A*, walked to the window, then turned anu <-_ed abruptly, "May I go to her?"

I thought of Mary, and hesitated.

" She is sleeping so peacefully jusfc now ; and if she awoke suddenly and saw you " "She eh»ll nofc see me," he broke in eagerly ; " I will be so quiet, but I must Eec her. I nursed hor through a long illness a year ago, and shn would have no one near her but me j bufc nov "'

Under the heavy military moustache I saw hia lip quiver ; he paused, thon added —

" I must go to her," nofc in command, but yearning appeal, both in voice and eyes. " Will you await her a minuLe ? I will see whether she still sleeps." She still slept, the heavy peaceful sleep of a tired child, Mary keeping a stern watch and gu&rd over her. I beckoned her out of the room.

" Well !" with fretful impatient eagerness ; ° you h».ve seen him ? What is he like ? Is he horrid?"

"Judge for yourself 5 he is in the diningroom. Ha says he must see her — ho must come in."

"That he shan't, the cruel wretch; or it shall be over my prostate body !" tragically. "Well, go and tell him so."

"I will."

And away, nothing daunted, went Mary. I smiled " ;*!he will no more resist the pleading of those h'ne handsome eyes than did her husband. He will win her over wifch a look." •—was rig-: ; Aae soon ret— rned, and not alone. "He wili hs very quiet, and she need not sco him. I thought it would be better ;" all thiß apoAjgfticrtlly.

He crossed the room as noiselessly as a woman, stoop. d over the bed in silence, then eat down be?i le it. Mary shaded the lamp, so fchafc thi* ruom was in twilight, and so we all three sab down to wait.

For moro than an hour vie waited, then Mary stole out. Captain Tremayne looked up as the door opened and closed; then, with a quick n^h, laid the brown curly head down upon the pillow as close as possible to thafc of the poor young wife without touching ifc, and hi-) hand moved up towards hers where it lay on the coverlet, but without touching that either, for fear of awaking or diat_ rbing hor. It was not until the gray streaks of daylight were struggling in tlirough the window, beside which I sat, that there was a alight stir ; she awaking at last.

K Hugh !" she breathed — dreamily at first, then urgently — " Hugh !" " Yes, dear."

She turned her face towards his whore it lay beside her. -he was only partially awake as yet, her eyes were still closed ; but the hand on the coverlet crept up softly towards him, fluttered over his face, rested one moment caressingly on the brown curls, then, with a long contented sigh, her arm stole round his neck.

" Husband, kiss me !"

" His presence has saved her," was my mental comment ; "there is nothing now to fear j" and, unnoticed, I left fche room.

Chilled and cramped with the long sitting after the sight's journey, I was not sorry to find the sitting-room bright with lump "and firelight, t'"e kettle singing on the hob, breakfast «3 co:i.:iwtabiy laid out fc--.- ! >vo as if the hour had been 9 instead of 6, j.r. ■ Mrs Merton as neat and r'reah -nd trim as if .afc midnight tragedy had been all a dream. Let caviliote sneer as they may, there is not ' ,g for a man liko a wife, if she be a good o I myself ■lay have had my doubts on the subject — wives are but women after all, aud must therefore be trying afc times, even the best of them. But I certainly had no doubts whatever as I stretched oat my feet to the blaze, and resigned myself cheerfully to being petted and waited on.

" Well ?" questioned Mrs Merton, when my creature comforts had all been duly attended to, and nofc before. I told her how matters stood ; she was delighted. " And f o they are fond of each other, after all ; and hii being unkind to her and her poor little baby w^s only a delusion. How dreadful ! How delightful, I mean ! Poor fellow — so young r-'d handsome and nice ! I felfc so sorry for _:iui " " He must have travelled down in the came train as alio did."

"Oh no ; ho told me all about it. Ho had been summoned up to town on businoss, und left; home yev.erd iy morning. In the evening the nurse left her, as she thought, asleep, to fetch something from the kitchen. Mrs Tremayne got away while the nurse was downstairs, and being traced to the station, where she had taken a ticket to London, Captain Tremayno was telegraphed to, and was stopped 83 he got into thr 'rain on his way home. Some one must -c seen you leave the statiou."

"Ashe e:_"-e to look for uer here, somebody muat have brought him ; two camo to the door."

*' It will be all right now that he bus found hor, end is fond of her; sho will „c" quite well ::.nd he will only have to coi-iiorfc her for '.Ai '•- 3 of her poor little baby."

I wipe in} pen, blot tho un-nscript, and rise. My story ia done, and, us is. is the fir.-t, so it will probably be the last of which I shall be guili y. Mrs Merton looks up from the glove she is mending. "The story done! Why, all you have written is only tho beginning of the end. You could not surely have the heart to break off in that unsatisfactory manner. Not a word aboufc Captain Tremayne's gratitude, or tho hampe 1 - they sent us afc Christmas, or the birth of their little on last year, and the yr-Mty w*y in which pi ,* coaxed you to be godfather, though her v? de, the duke, was only waiting to be asked ; or how she

insisted upon our bringing baby and Johnn) and Freddy, and how baby—" But I have seized my hat and gloves. Mary is, as I havo said, the best of wives, if jusfc a little trying at times, and her baby the most wonderful of all created babies— but I have an appointment at twelve.