LITERATURE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5134, 16 October 1884, Page 3

LITERATURE.

AN UNFOETUNATE GOODWOOD,

(Truth.)

Mr John Gamble, of 4, Montmorency terrace, Burgewoiitown, had deceived his wife. When he told her that he had to leave town on important business, and would not be back until the next day, he really was going to Goodwood with a few jolly fellows, with whom he intended afterwards to spend a bachelor evening. Hia wife was usually annoyed when important business called John away — which it invariably did about the time of the great race-meetings — but on this occasion she did not seem to be particularly upset. " And you'll not be able to be back tonight ? " she asked. " No, my dear," replied John. "Can't you possibly manage it?" she inquired. " No, my dear, it's impossible. But whydo you ask ?" "Oh," said she, in a tone of regret, which he easily saw was meant to hide her pleasure, " I don't hke you sleeping away from home. If you could only get back, I shouldn't mind how late it was ; I would, wait up for you." "It would be no use," answered John. " I'm certain to be detained over-night." John Gamble and his wife had been married nearly twelve years, and, on the whole, they had led a very happy life. Witii the exception of one quarrel — produced through his mother-in-law's remonstrance with John about his fondness for betting — he and his wife had not had & single serious disagreement since their wedding. That one quarrel, however, promised at one time to be serious enough, and, as both John and his mother-in-law were thoroughly exasperated, no one could say how it would have ended had not Mrs Gamble, just when it was reaching a crisis, brought it to a. happy conclusion by deserting to her husband, and turning her arms —or rather her tongue — against her mother, whom she herself had induced to begin the conflict. Since then Mr and Mrs Gamble had been on good terms, but Mrs Gamble's mother had ceased to visit them. Recently, however, another event had occurred which seemed likely to disturb the domestic happiness of Mr John Gamble. A young doctor, of handsome appearance and engaging manners, had come to reside at the other end of Montmorency terrace — at No. 17. In an evil moment John Gamble had called in young Doctor Skelton to attend his wife, and he had apparently made his presence exceptionally agreeable to her, for she ever afterwards refused to consult any other physician. Yet although she was continually praising his skill, John Gamble could not help noticing that since he began to> attend her and the cliildren they appeared to suffer more than ever from ill-health. At any rate, they seemed to need much. more medical attendance ; for, for some months past, so chronic had sickness in the family become, that Dr Skelton had found it necessary to pay a long visit everyday. John Gamble was naturally o£ a jealous and suspicious temperament, aud he noticed the increasing intimacy between his wife and the doctor with anything but pleasure. As yet he had not felt justified in remonstrating concerning it with Mrs Gamble, but he had. frequently pondered over it in private, and without its being once referred to by either of them it was steadily making the relations between them less and less cordial. As has been said, on the morning that John Gamble told his wife he should be unable to be at home that night, he noticed that she seemed rather pleased than otherwise by his announcement. Hitherto he*

_ad been accustomed on such occasions to ponting3 and dissatisfaction generally on her part ; and, although he had not altogether liked these, he disliked their absence now still more. Indeed, the change in her behavicur was so complete and striking that it at once made a considerable and most unpleasant impression on his mind. That unpleasant impression was not diminished by a circumstance which subsequently occurred. As the eldest boy ■was leaving for school, Mrs Gamble followed him to the hall- door. "While she was speaking to him, John happened to pass through the hall. He noticed she was giving the child a letter. When she heard her husband's step, she turned round hastily, and observing that he had seen what she had been doing, she became \ery red. He could not help connecting thi3 fact and her previous behaviour in some way or other with her acquaintance with Dr Skelton ; but he left without saying anything about it. All the way to Goodwood, however, he continued to think of what he had noticed — much more of it than of the races he wa3 going to see. Again and again he tried with all his power to dismiss the whole affair from his mind; but lie could not. Do as he would, it, and the disagreeable suspicions it had given birth to, would mingle themselves with his thoughts. He cast about in every direction for any likely and innocent cause for hi* wife's conduct ; but could find none. The more he thought of it, the' more convinced he became that the only possible explanation oi it lay in her relations with the young and handsome physician. Before he reached the course, his suspicions had hardened into absolute convictions. John's jolly friends soon discovered that John himself was anything but jolly. He did his best to participate in their gaiety, hut with little success. He pretended to take an interest in the races ; but all the time his mind was full of the gloomy suspicions about his wife, which* would, in spite of all he could do, obtrude themselves upon him. To get the better of them he bet heavily and drank copiously. I But, in the pre-occupation of his mind he forgot discretion in his betting, and lost more than a man in hi 3 position could well afford; and the champagne, instead of making him gay, made Mm quarrelsome. Over one bet he had a bitter and prolonged dispute with his oldest and dearest friend. Mat Owen, which seemed likely to end in a i complete breach, and which was only settled with much trouble by the strenuous ' •exertions of their common friends. At last the races were over, and John was heartily glad of it, for he had never spent a more miserable day in his exist •■••••c. He returned with t'i-- • 'iers to town, and although all day ■• gloomy spirits and bad temper had made him little less than an intolerable nuisance to the rest of I the company, they expected he would be i himself once again at supper, since there I ■was noplace where, as a rule, John Gamble showed with so much advantage as at table. But they were doomed to disappointment. At supper, John behaved much as he had done on the course. He remained silent and gloomy, never opening his mouth except to take brandy or champagne, or to contradict some of his neighbours. When at length, late in the evening, he announced that, as he did not feel well, he thought he would return home at once, they were all greatly relieved. He accordingly left the supper-room and drove to the railway station, reaching it just in time to catch the last train for Burgewostown. When the train arrived at the "beautiful and aristocratic suburb " of Burgewostown (as the local paper described it) it was midnight; ana by the time John reached Montmorency terrace it was close upon one o'clock. At the station he had been unable to procure a cab, and so had to walk. The -istance, to those who confined their peregrinations to the side-path, was only about half a mile ; but as John felt impelled (probably on account of its _ ot being properly lighted) to cross the street at least a hundred times in the course of the journey, it was not strange that it seemed to him at least three times that distance. When at length he came to his own house, he saw how just his suspicions were. Although it was long after his wife's usual time for retiring, tie drawing-room on the first floor was lighted up. What could she ' be j doing at that hour of the night ? > What did she mean by talking j about sitting up for him, if she did I not intend to be in bed at one o'clock in ! the morning ? He felt sure there was ! something wrong, and w.is walking for- i ward to knock at the door when it occurred ' to him that, if he knocked she could let ont < of the house any person there might be in I it before he coul d effect an entrance. To I discover really what she was doing he • must surprise her ; but how was he to do ! that? He had no latch-key; even if he ■ had, most probably the door was bolted in- j aide. He tried the windows on the ground floor: they were all fastened. He felt ; fairly nonplussed. As a last resource, he • resolved to go to the back of the house, J get over the garden wall, and see if he ! could not gain admittance through some of \ the back windows. j He went to the back. The terrace, i though not a very long one — there were j only twenty houses in it — was all built on ! the one plan, and so, from the rear at least, it was rather difficult to distinguish the hou3e3 from each other. But, as John ; Gamble lived at number four, he was able ' to discover his house by counting the fourth from the end. Having in this way j identified it, he scaled the garden wall. ) As it was only about five feet high he con- . trived to do this without much difficulty. ; Once over, he made his way through the ' garden to the back of the house. He began I trying all the windows to see if any of them . had been left unfastened. To his delight, ■ the kitchen one was unlatched. He raised it cautiously. Scrambling upon the sill — • the house had no basement story — he sat there for a moment wondering how, in his ; present somewhat unsteady condition, he could get in without letting the window drop or making any other disturbance, when he recollected that there was a table just below the window. He put in his foot , and felt it. Considering himself now -secure lie slipped down upon it. As he did so the table went from beneath him, and ; he fell heavily and with a terrible clatter ' on the floor. The. table had not been ] exactly underneath the window, and, his weight coming upon it sideways had up- i turned it. Considerably shaken and con- < fused by the fall he arose, and listened to i hear if the noise had disturbed the in- • mates. Apparently it had not, for he could \ hear no footsteps. To make sure that no 1 one should leave the house before he got j out of the kitchen, he hurriedly groped his ' way through the kitchen to the door, and ; through ' the door to the bottom of the ! stairs. The fall seemed to have increased j the effect of the drink he had taken, for, in spite of all his efforts to go quietly and ! -cautiously, at every step he collided against • something or other. Getting upstairs gave ! him still more difficulty. j At length he reached the lobby of the _ rst floor. He stele as noiselessly as possible to the drawing-room door, and listened earnestly if he could hear any sound within. There was none ; hut the room was s— ll lighted. He felt now in an awkward position. He began to -tioubt if 'h i 3 suspicion 3 were, after all, well founded. If they were, he would know how to act ; but if, as notr seemed likely, they were not, how could he explain to hi 3 wife his present position and condition f While he stood hesitating what to do, the door of the room w_3 suddenly flung violently open, and Dr Skelton sprang npon him. Had John been prepared for -such an encounter, he would probably have been more than a match for the doctor; but he was taken by surprise. he made a strong resistance. He struggled fiercely and desperately ; but couldn't for a moment hold his own. He felt the contest was going against him ; but ju3t a3 he raised his voice for help, hi 3 antagonist lifted him bodily from the ground, and threw him headlong down ; the stairs. Ilu fell en the landing with j terrible force, and at once became unconseioua. ! How long it was before he recovered j consciousness, John could not tell. When j he did, however, he found himself lying j .fcilf stripped in bed, and covered with •

bruises and wounds. At first he could not comprehend how he came there. The shock of his fall had driven all the events of the night out of his head. He lay for a time wondering at his position, and trying to remember what had happened, but in vain. At length, through the haziness which still obscured his vision, he saw the face of Dr Skelton bending over him. The sight of it brought back everything to his mind. He gazed on the man with loathing, and then, turning his eyes away, he thought with agony of his lost wife and i the children she had disgraced. Dr Skelton ' interrupted his thoughts. \ " How do you feel now, Mr Gamble ? " he said gently. "I am very sorry for what j has occurred. Can I do anything for j you ? " ! " You scoundrel !" exclaimed John, passionately. "How dare you come here? ' How dare you show your treacherous face here?" " Now, now, that's really too bad," said the doctor, soothingly. " I may have been too hasty with you, but you were more to blame than I. But we'll not talk of that now. Here, take this : it will revive you. You're not so much injured as you think. It's more the shock you had than anything else that's troubling you [" " Shock, indeed !" cried John, glaring at the doctor. " Shock, indeed !" The doctor, however, took no notice, but tried once again to persuade the outraged husband to sip the draught. He pushed it rudely away. " Take your infernal medicine away from me;' he shouted. "Do you want to poison me ? Where's my wife ?" " She'll be here in a minute," answered the doctor. "Don't trouble yourself about her." ! "I don't intend to," answered John, fiercely. "You can have her altogether, for all I care." " Don't talk that way, man ; you'll hurt her feelings." " She has thought a great deal about my feelings, hasn't she ? Oh, Mary, Mary," he then moaned, half-unconscious apparently of the doctor's presence. "Poor fellow, your brain's wandering," said the doctor, in a kindly tone. "Do take some of this ; it will do you a world of good." " Take your poison away, I tell you !" shouted John. "Are you not satisfied with one crime ? Are you not content with robbing me oi my happiness, but must also have my life ?" " Upon my soul, you'll provoke me," exclaimed Dr Skelton, angrily. " You're the most unreasonable man I ever met. I hear a man wandering at midnight through my house. I naturally attack him ; and | because, when he's knocked down, he proves to be an acquaintance turned gen-tleman-burglar, he thinks he's entitled to insult me. Why, man, what treatment do you expect when you become a housebreaker ?" " Become a housebreaker ?" repeated John, gazing at Dr Skelton in bewilderment. " Your house ! This is my house, isn't it ? It is No. 4, Montmorency Terrace ?" " No, it's my house ; it's 17, Montmorency terrace. John looked dazed and uncomfortable. He reflected a moment. "It must be No. 4," he said. " I remember I counted it. It is the fourth house from the end of the terrace." "Ah ! yes," replied Dr Skelton, smiling, " but from the wrong end." John remained silent for some time. At length the doctor said to him: "Mrs Gamble will be, I'm afraid, very much annoyed and upset at your adventure. But I suppose I must go and tell her. It is, however, doubly unfortunate, as she took advantage of your absence to ask her mother over, and she is now at your house. But there, it can't be helped. I will run and bring them both here." "No, no, doctor," replied John, very humbly. "You needn't trouble. If you don't object, I'll stop here for the rest of the night."