THE DUKE OF ARCANUM

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXI, Issue XVIII, 29 October 1898, Page 557

THE DUKE OF ARCANUM

&Y

CAPLETON LONG

CHAPTER XXV (continued). Shortly after this occurrence Pintard came again to urge Chloe to embrace his scheme of extortion. Chloe worked upon him as cleverly as she had upon Coulter, and he gave up what he supposed to be his secret while she professed to be shocked at the revelation. Following Morton’s directions faithfully she gathered all the details of the crime, just as he had gathered them from Vitellius and Madame Renaud. She told him that Coulter had deserted her, leaving her with unpaid bills, and she swore vengeance upon him. Pintard’s sinister eyes gleamed with delight, for he knew that there is no torment on earth worse than peing pursued by an infuriated and reveng-eful woman. He went away chuckling at the prospects, admonishing Chloe to be as severe and unrelenting as she knew how. At the appointed time he returned to learn the result. Chloe was ready with the plausible story invented by Morton. I got all I could out of him.’ said she, ‘ but there isn’t much juice in a turnip, you know. Coulter has come to about that condition ; he is all pith and no succulence, as a result of his mania for gambling. The poor fellow would have given up all, had he owned the bank of California, for he was badly frightened. Here is fifty dollars, Pintard ; you can depend upon that much every month with a prospect of something better after awhile — probably within a year.’ ‘ Well, that’s better ’an a kick, ’specially to a bugger that’s hard up like me,’ said Pintard as he gathered between his dirty fingers the roll of bills which Chloe tendered him.

‘ I am glad to see you satisfied, Pintard, for I knew you would expect more, but I did my best with him. Fifty dollars a month isn’t bad though. It will keep you pretty well, and ty and by we will get more. Keep quiet, and if by any unfortunate accident the police should get hold of you, you must manage to let me know for I might be able to help you.’

‘ The cops ain’t goin’ to git me agin, ye kin bet on that.’ Pintard guffawed in his coarse and vulgar way ; but Chloe silenced him by saying : ‘ You must be very careful, for you are liable to meet Coulter, and then he would suspect the whole plot. Keep away and only come once a month to get your regular allowance. Don’t say a word to Madame Renaud concerning me or my whereabouts ; do you understand ?’ ‘ Of course, Mam’selle, ye’ve got a long head. Gim’me a woman e.v’ry time fur a schemer. I’ll come agin in a month.’

‘ You may go,’ said Chloe, dismiss-

ing him. ’ A’l revoir,’ and Pintard made a hasty movement in the direction of the door.

‘Au revoir,’ returned Chloe ; but the Canadian was up and away before the salutation could reach his ears. The money was burning in his pocket ; his throat was parched for want of whisky, and his tongue was stiff and tormenting for the want of a quid of tobacco. His eyes hnd wandered restlessly toward the door since

Chloe had placed the money in his hands, and when she said ‘You may go,’ it was equivalent to cutting the rope which held a captive balloon.

‘ Well, there’s another one fixed,’ Chloe exclaimed, in her usual soliloquizing way, when Pintard had gone. ‘ If the nasty villain will only keep cut of my sight, except to come and get hie lucre! shall be very thankful. I fe’r like handing him the money with a pair of tongs, his hands were so filthy. And to think that I have been consorting with such creatures for so many years ! I wonder what my father would think if he knew what had really been my lot since I left home. I don’t believe he would ever let me cross his threshold again. Thieves, cuthroats, murderers, perjurers, pimps and prostitutes ! What a mess ! Oh, horrors lit makes my very blood run cold to think of it. But I have thrown them all over at last—or nearly so —and, thanks to the ‘ Duke of Arcanum, 'I shall soon sweep my skirts of both these villains. How they will squirm when the “ Duke ” lays his hands upon them ! I can’t help it, it’s the only path to decency, and I am just as desperate in clearing it of obstructions as Coulter and Pintard would be if the situation were only reversed. Would they hesitate to kill me ? No. Then why should I show them any mercy ? Curse them ; I never shall.’

Chloe had some anxiety as to the way in which Pintard would receive the small amount which she claimed to have extorted from Coulter, and there was a deal of secret satisfaction when she saw him accept it goodnaturedly, without showing disappointment or a disposition to complain. She had feared that he would prove ugly and obsteperous, but the state of his exchequer was such, she found, that he was glad to secure any sum, no matter how insignificant. On reflecting over matters as they stood Chloe flattered herself exceedingly that she had carried out the instructions of the ‘ Duke of Arcanum ’ with greater success than she had anticipated. She marvelled at his shrewdness and foresight, for everything thus far had resulted as he had predicted.

About a month after this incident Coulter unexpectedly lost his position as Director-in-Chief of the telegraph office. He had gradually become enslaved by his propensity for gambling, and night after night he had courted the fickle smiles of fortune by turns at faro, roulette and other games of chance. Everything had appeared to go wrong. His losses had continually grown greater ami greater, but with the frenzy and persistence, the longing ami certain expectation which all experience who fall a prey to the insatiate mania. Coulter kept his vigils by the greein cloth, and watched, waited, ami wagered. Occasionally he would make a. small winning, just sufficient to stimulate his hopes and invite him to stay with the game until his money was gone. Fortune seemed to shun him entirely, and he found himself upon the down grade, travelling at a rapid pace and gathering momentum at every step.

Some time before Chloe’s first interview with Morton, Coulter’s resources were exhausted; then falling back upon his acquaintances he would borrow from those who would lend, taking the most desperate chances with the loans at the gambling table, in the hope of winning back what he had lost. His losses and debts harassed his mind to such an extent that he neglected his duties at the office, absenting himself for hours at a time, trying to find solace in the decoctions furnished at the various rum chapels in the neighbourhood. Here again his credit was brought into requisition, and bills for liquor and cigars were accumulated with startling figures. But he seemed wholly indifferent to them,putting them oft with one excuse or another, or continuing to add more to the column of debts when permitted to do so. Having no money for Chloe he kept out of her sight until she sent for him, telling him that she had good news to communicate. Upon learning that his mistress was the daughter of Marcellus Dunne, he thought that he saw an avenue of escape from his troubles. Chloe had previously seemed so anxious to have the marriage rites solemnized that he did not doubt in the least that she would consent to legalise the relations which existed between them. With the daughter of Marcellus Dunne for his wife, and she an heir to the snug little fortune which the ‘Duke of Arcanum’ had settled upon the cripple, his credit would ne reestablished, and he would be able to avert- the catastrophe which seemed otherwise inevitable. He had heard Chloe’s decision with mild dissatisfaction, but he did not dare to protest against it, for he well knew that he had more than once endeavoured to east her off, and to drive her into deeper depths of shame. He left her apartment that night hoping that she would reconsider her decision and marry him without waiting the length of time which she had proposed. Then they would go together and live with Marcellus Dunne. He saw the necessity of changing his manner toward her decidedly, so that she would think his old flame had been rekindled in earnest, and that he really loved her with a devotion of which she did not think him capable. Coulter saw’ Chloe thereafter as frequently as two or three times a week. She received him cordially, but to all his importunings for a speedy marriage and return to her father’s house she turned a deaf ear. ‘No, I am not ready yet; you have not courted me long enough. Jack; I like it; don’t be impatient,’ she would say in a mischievous manner. She could readily see that something troubled' him. There was a strong odour of liquor about him, and sometimes she thought he was considerably under its influence. This was unusual, for as much as Coulter had been in the habit of dissipating in other ways, he had always kept a clear head and been moderate in the use of intoxicants. Affairs had come to such a state at last with the Director-in-Chief that a reckoning could not lie further postponed. His creditors were clamouring for their pay. They came to the office to demand a settlement, but they were not admitted. They threatened him upon the streets, but he was imperturbable, Then matters were brought to the attention of the superior officers of the company. An investigation followed and Coulter was dismissed. Thus the man who had plotted against his companion, and had caused his Chief’s murder that he might gain his place, at last fell from the eoveted position through his own folly nnd weakness, leaving the scene of his authority in deeper disgrace than the victim, of his machinations had in years gone by. From the telegraph office to the gambling den was an easy transition for Coulter. He slid as naturally and easily from one to another as a turtle glides from a log into the water. That was his element and his nature prompted it mechanically. He felt

mor • at home in the interior of sueh a £. 'ace, amidst the clicking of dice and poker chips, than in the great hah of telegraphic industry, amidst tile elicking of the instruments. But he found that he could no longer play the games which he had formerly indulged in. He was obliged to descend to the level of a petty gambler with its concomitant vices, including bad liquor, bad tobacco, ami bad company, but it was made tolerable by visions of luck, that fatal mirage which hope holds out to lure them on; for where is one who feeds on superstitions and consorts with the tickle whims of fortune but who thinks that his time is yet to come, and who either patiently or impatiently awaits it? The delusion is but a hollow mockery of their lives. Coulter visited Chloe soon after his dismissal. He looked gloomy. He had come to tell her of his misfortune, and he felt no littie humiliation in doing so. He considered it prudent, however, as she would soon know of it, and he wished, moreover, to convey the idea that he was at last making a confidant of her by telling her of his troubles, thereby hoping to work upon her sympathies. Chloe prepared the way for him by remarking as soon as he entered the room: ‘Jack, you look awfully gloomy to-night; what has happened to you?’ ‘Well, Chloe, 1 feel pretty blue, to tell the truth. It seems good to have some one to tell your troubles to when you are despondent. You alre the only one I can talk to in confidence, so I have come to tell you all. I have lost my position at the office. Isn’t that enough to make a fellow lookglum ? and Coulter east an appealing g'lance, sucli as Chloe had never seen him indulge in before. Dissembler as she was, it was difficult for her to conceal the pleasure which the announcement had caused her; and although she condoled with him bv a sympathetic expression of countenance, yet inwardly she smiled, for she saw at a glance that his misfortune would render him more tractable, keep him within bounds, and cause him to be more- dependent than ever upon her. She was glad that he had lost his position, because he was not worthy of it. She was also glad liecause she wished to see him humbled as he had humbled her, and she recognised it as the working out of a just, retribution for the manner in which he had obtained it. ‘Why, you surprise me; how did it happen? I’m so sorry for you,’ answered Chloe, in a. feigned expression ot deep regret. ‘Are you truly sorry, Chloe?’ asked < ouJter, drawing her to his side and kissing her. ‘Of course I am; why shouldn’t 1 be. ami Chloe wondered if he were ’’.vpocritical as she thought. Well, d happened just as anything might happen; tlVey thought they could dispense with my services and they did so.’ ‘But. what charges did they bring against you?’ ‘What do you suppose they were mv dear?’ ‘Oh, 1 suppose it was gambling and drinking, or, perhaps, mismanagement of the office.’ No, Chloe, they- discovered that I have been living with you. I was charged with incontinence.and I could not very well deny it.’ ‘Humph! if you were dismissed on my account you are a. martyr to a g'ood cause. 1 really thought it was something worse,’ said Chloe, with an incredulous smile upon her mouth. ’Of course I am; I know it; 1 don't complain at all. I would be willing to sacrifice more than that for you any time, my dear.’ ‘Ah. how you have changed, then, for I remember quite distinctly when you refused to make me your wife because you said it would' be your ruination—that, you would lose vour place.’ ‘Chloe, are you never going to forget. that?' asked Coulter, rather impatiently.

■How can 1? You know such things always stay by one, whether they are desirable recollections or not.’

‘But 1 have explained it all by telling yon that 1 did not know who you were at the time. But 1 see now the folly of my actions then. I should have con. seated to the marriage, and have made you a legal wife. 1 have lost my position by befriending you; but what of it? If 1 now had to choose between you and the position 1 should let the position go. 1 will get along some way, I have no fear of that.’ ‘1 hope you will; but what are your intentions ?Have you any funds for present requirements?’ ‘Nothing, absolutely nothing. I am bankrupt. I have lived on an extravagant scale, with the idea that situations never fail; but I find it was an hallucination.’

‘1 haven’t much myself, Jack, but I will share what I have with you,’ and taking out her purse, Chloe gave him some money. Coulter accepted the proffered assistance with seeming reluctance, but like every other act it was deception, for, in reality, he felt no hesitation whatever in taking it. ‘I will take it because I need it, but shall only consider it a loan,’ he said, and this without the least manifestation of gratitude. ‘Never mind,’ replied Chloe, ‘I shall have more in a few days, and if you require it I will share it with you again.’

Coulter did not urge his claims any further that night. For once he was circumspect, and contented himself with the few dollars received from Chloe, waiting and hoping for favourable results from his visit which he fancied would come in her afterthoughts, when she saw the tenderness and regard which he evinced for her. He little knew the cunning of the woman who was apparently so self-sacrificing, or the motives which prompted her generosity. The next evening Chloe went again to Morton’s residence to inform him of Coulter’s downfall. Morton smiled upon hearing the recital of her conversation with him, illustrating the rank insincerity existing between them. He encouraged her to continue her dissembling attitude, and giving her a fresh supply of funds, he instructed her to be liberal with him, and to furnish him with reasonable amounts occasionally, .so as to keep him dependent upon her as much as possible, bidding her to come again when her purse was depleted. It was not long after this that Coulter went on a protracted debauch. For several days he remained in an intoxicated state, lounging about saloons, gambling resorts and bagnios. He avoided Chloe during this time. When at length he was sobered sufficiently to take an account of results be found that he had been robbed of his watch and his diamond. His linen was soiled, his silk hat crushed and badly furred, and his garments were grey with the accumulation of dust and dirt. While in this condition he was met by the proprietor of a noted resort in which he had played a losing game for many months. He had been a frequenter of it off and on for as many years, and the proprietor knew him well. He also knew the position which he had occupied and the cause of his downfall, and in charity gave him employment at turning the rou-lette-wheel for the players.

As soon as Coulter could make himself presentable he visited Chloe again and told her that he had been ill. She knew better, however, for she had heard of his inebriated condition. He informed her that he had found employment in a bank, hut he was careful not to mention that it was a farobank. But he did not deceive her as much as he suspected, for she had shrewdly kept advised of his proceedings. She knew that he was falsifying when he assigned the reason which he did for his dismissal, and being deternfinedi to ascertain the truth, found her suspicions justified by her inquiries. His mendacity was so well understood that she questioned the truth of every utterance as much as the sincerity of every act; but she kept her thoughts to hlerself, and maintained the same agreeable demeanour toward him as formerly. Although Coulter felt at home among the habitues of the resort, yet he felt chagrined nt turning the wheel of fortune for others. It was too great a denial to witness their play without taking a. hand himself. But what could he do? He had neither

funds nor credit, and his salary was not more than sufficient for a decent living. If he played and lost there would be no alternative but to starve or steal. But the mania existed, and being uncontrollable it must be appeased. There was one resource lefC—the contents of his room—and they were sacrificed. After this, when he occupied a bed at all, it was in one of the cheap lodging-houses of the city. With the money realised from the auctioneer he was enabled to indulge for a time in the fascinating ventures of the roulette. But time only sufficed to dispel the illusion. His luck had vanished, and his money followed in the train of that which had gone before it, leaving him again flat but still consumed by his devouring propensity. Remorse, which is the natural companion of ill-fortune, then seized him, and he writhed under the tortures of a brain on fire, with visions of his former self and the realisation of his present distress. What solace is there for a mind perplexed and troubled to the verge of distraction? Whisky! Ah, he had travelled . over the same road before, and his inclinations were already bent; so seizing upon the bowl he sank again into the depths of intoxication and despair. The natural sequence of his inebriation was his being set adrift by his employer, for a man was of no use to him who was too drunk to turn a roulette-wheel, or to deal the cards at the faro table. He had given him an opportunity to sober down and reflect upon the folly of his course, and he did not profit by the opportunity. His infatuation was too strong, and where infatuation exists there is little or no reflection. Coulter’s infatuation for all sorts of dissipation blinded him to reflection, and he became a helpless victim to the preponderating influences of vice.

There came a time, however, within a few days after being thrown out by the gambler, when, through necessity, the fog cleared from Coulter’s mind. The last farthing was gone, and as for credit that had long since been exhausted. When this state of things came about, he began to see that a crisis was at hand. He must have money, and how to obtain it was a problem for him to solve. It would be absurd to suppose for a moment that he had any thought or inclination of gaining it honestly. No; all intentions and purposes of the man were to prey upon others. His thoughts were in the direction of crime. His mind was fixed with a desire to perpetrate some great crime, through which he would become enriched. He was willing to take the chances of punishment. He could match his own cleverness against the police or detectives. What greater chances could he take than those which he had already taken? He thought of bank robberies, forgeries, burglaries, swindles and even murder. He was ready to try anything which would pay for the risk. But it was ready money which he required, and, thinking that it would take too long to conceive and execute a. plan of such a character, he abandoned it for one which he thought would better suit present requirements. This was to compel Chloe by intimidation and threats to marry him and return to her father’s house. Once installed in the home of the cripple, he had no fears but that he could soon control his money. More than six months had elapsed, and Chloe was now no nearer the point of consummating the marriage than when she had sent for him to tell him that she was the daughter of Marcellus Dunne. He was desperate, and was determined now to make her yield. In this frame of mind he sought his former mistress. He had not been to see her for several days, but. small matter of concern was that. He was not going there for the purpose of making excuses, but to compel her to marry him or have it out with her.

Chloe knew that Coulter had lost his place in the bank, as he called it. She had kept well informed of his doings and whereabouts. She knew that he had been dissipating, and the moment he entered her room she was able to tell his exact condition and the probable nature of his errand. He looked sullen and ugly. She had nevet seen him look so before, and she attributed it to the after effects of his debauch; but she greeted him so pleasantly and cheerfully that he was, for a moment, disarmed.

‘Why, you have been ill again, haven't you, Jack? I’m so glad to

see you;’ and, putting her arm through his, Chloe escorted him to the little sofa.

‘No; I’ve been drunk,’ growled Coulter. ‘I should think you could see that with half an eye.’ From Chloe’s manner Coulter might have supposed that she was greatly shocked by the announcement. Leaning forward and resting her elbow on his knee, she looked up in his face in a gentle but reproachful way, saying: ‘Jack, you don’t mean it, do you?’ ‘Yes, I’ve been as drunk as a roustabout; I can’t leave the cursed stuff alone when I have the blues.’

‘Has anything gone wrong to make you despondent?’ ‘Yes; I’m out of work again, and out of money, too.’ ‘l’m sorry, real sorry, Jack.’ ‘Y’es, you’re very sorry —undoubtedly you are,’ answered Coulter, with a snarl.

Chloe perceived that there was a threatened storm —that Coulter was in ill-humour and would quarrel with her upon the slightest provocation—and she resolved to be guarded in everything she said. Straightening up and leaning against the back of the sofa she toyed silently with her bracelet; she looked sober but not offended. ‘Jack, what have I done that you should talk to me so?’ she at length inquired. 'You have brought the whole curse upon me. If you had consented to a marriage six months ago the old man would have given us a start, and I wouldn’t have been lounging around saloons and faro-banks all this time, nearly crazy with the blues.’ •Jack, listen to reason’— ’Damn your reason! there isn’t any in you.’ ‘Won’t you listen to what I have to say?’ pleaded Chloe. ‘I don’t want to hear any nonsense. I came here on a matter of business and I am going to settle it.’ Upon hearing these words, spoken so bitterly and spitefully, Chloe feared the worst. She saw that a scene could not be well avoided, but she would pacify him if she could.

‘What business do you wish to settle with me, Jack? I thought that your visits here were devotional, but they seem to be emotional,’ said Chloe in her brightest and happiest way. ‘Y’ou’re very funny when you wish to avoid a racket. But I think that we had better have an understanding. I want to know if you are ready to fulfil that promise; you have kept me waiting long enough.’ ‘What promise do you refer to, Jack? I was not aware that I had made any.’ ‘Y’ou lie when you say it. Y’ou know that you have promised to be my wife.’ ‘Oh!’ said Chloe, ‘that was conditional, and the time has not expired yet. Moreover, you couldn’t take care of a wife just now while you are out of work.’

‘No; but you could take care of a husband.’

‘Don’t be foolish, Jack. I can do more for you as I am than I could should we marry and go to my father’s house. You see he is very queer and very set in his ways. He has prescribed a certain length of time in which I am to make an effort at reformation; then, if I convince him at the end of that period that I am a changed woman he will gladly receive me home, and a husband with me, should I choose to bring one. If I should disobey his orders now and return home, with or without a husband, he would cast me off forever. Then what would become of us? You would only have a burden instead of a fortune in your wife.’ While Coulter appeared to be considering his reply, Chloe continued: ‘No; don’t be uneasy, I will do what I can for you. You must try and get a place somewhere, so when the time comes for me to return home I can show a husband who has some means with which to provide for his wife. I’m sure my father would think all the more of you.’ Coulter seemed to cool down considerably under Chloe’s gentle remonstrance.

‘But I’m all out—busted, collapsed—not even a place to lay my head. I’ve had to sell everything in my room to live. I’ll have to come here and stay with you.’ ‘No, if it has come, to that I will give up my room to you and go elsewhere.* ‘Well, it has come to that: 1 must have the room. I bought the stuff

and it belongs to me. You have a rich father and I have nothing; besides, sis, I must have some money. There’s nothing like being plain. Have you any?’

‘Y’es, Jack, I can spare you ten dollars.’

‘Ten dollars! humph!’ growled Coulter.

Taking out her purse Chloe opened it to give him some money; but in the very act of her charity Coulter snatched it from her hand. Her face flushed with indignation, while his brightened with a look of villainous exultation. At first she was upon the point of giving way to her anger and making a struggle to recover it; but upon reflection she leaned back passively on the sofa and endeavoured by her silence and coolness to give him to undertsand that her feelings had been outraged by his conduct. Coulter merely glanced at her, however. He was too eager to secure the contents of the purse to waste his attention on its owner. Chloe had gone the previous day to Morton’s house to receive her regular allowance; and Pintard not having appeared, and having disbursed but a trifling amount, there was a plethora in the purse. Plucking its contents and eyeing it a moment with a greedy gaze, Coulter thrust it in his pocket and then threw the empty purse on the floor. Chloe could no longer restrain her indignation.

‘Give me that money, sir, or I’ll have you arrested.’

Coulter guffawed in an exasperating manner; and Chloe again demanded: ‘Give me that money, I say, or I’ll have you arrested.’

‘lf you do, then I’ll tell who you are—daughter of Marcellus Dunne, a prostitute. How would the old man like to see that in the papers, sis? 1 think I have you on the hip. Y’ou’d better shut up and say nothing about it. Now, I’ll give you fifteen minutes to pack up and get out. Do you hear?’

‘Do you mean iU?’ asked Chloe, appealingly. ‘Yes, I mean it; and, what is more, you must keep me supplied with money till you make up your mind to be my wife. As long as you do this there will be no trouble; but, just the moment you stop, God help you.’

Chloe had never been afraid of Coulter before, but now she was trembling from head to foot. She did not dare to resist him. There was no other course than to submit, for it would never do to have him talk about her. ‘How much money do you wish me to give you?’ asked Chloe.

‘I want a hundred dollars a month until you become my wife.’ ‘And how shall I get it to you? You are going to drive me away.’ ‘I will meet you at the Tivoli on the night of the first of every month. See that you be on hand with the money.’

Chloe said nothing more, but began to pack her trunk. She put her jewellery in her pocket, and placed her small pistol in her bosom. When she had finished she put on her hat and wraps, opened the door,/ and seizing hold of the handle, by a great effort dragged the trunk into the hall and shut the door. Having neither a place to go to nor money with which to obtain a lodging, she sat down upon the stairs a few moments completely overcom|e. Tears came to her eyes, but she brushed them away heroically, and then descended to the street.

It was past nine o’clock, but the shops were still bright with illumination and the streets full of people. For some distance Chloe walked along, endeavouring to calm her unquiet state of mind, and meditating what she should say to Morton, and where she could obtain shelter for the night, liaising her eyes mechanically, and glancing through a window, she saw that she was before a pawn-shop; then an idea occurred to her. She had her jewellery in her pocket and she could obtain money by pledging it; and, acting upon the impulse, she entered the place and hastily made a bargain with the proprietor. A few minutes later she had found a lodging and sent for her trunk.

Chloe, was more distressed by the fact that Pintard had not come for his money as usual than from the indignity which she had suffered from Coulter. He was now three days overdue and she feared that he might go to the room and encounter Coulter. Further, she was without funds to pay him should she see him. Pintard had always come for his money in the

early part of the day. She still had the key to her old room, for Coulter, having carried one himself, had not thought to demand it when she left. Might she not go there and wait for Pintard? It seemed an excellent idea, and she adopted it, for she knew that it would never do for Pintard to go there and meet Coulter. Arriving at the door, she placed her ear to the keyhole and listened for some time without hearing a sound. Then peering through she saw the light from the window. There was no key in the lock, and she knew that Coulter was gone. In an instant she was insiii. surveying the room. The bed being unused, she concluded that he had gone away soon after her departure, and had spent the night in dissipation. There being little danger of his returning she sat down to rest and wait for the Canadian. Two hours had thus passed when Chloe heard footsteps in the hall, and a knock at the door. Her heart fluttered with excitement, for she thought Pintard had come at last. Noiselessly she tripped to the door and opened it, but instead of Pintard, she found herself confronted by an ill-visaged youth who handed her a note, remarking: ‘The jailor said you would pay me for the trouble.’ Chloe opened the note and read: ‘A man by the name of Pintard has been arrested and jailed. He wants you informed of it. Please pay the lx>y for the delivery of this information. (Signed) ‘Turnkey.’ To say that Chloe felt greatly relieved by the news which the note contained inadequately expresses her feelings. She felt a mighty burden lifted from her shoulders, and her happiness was so great that she could scarcely restrain herself from a voluble demonstration in the messenger’s presence. Giving him a satisfactory recompense, she dismissed him without rewarding Pintard with a thought for his trouble. Coulter continued his dissipation until his stolen funds gave out. Then he began to sell off the contents of Chloe’s room, gambling with the proceeds and keeping' in a constant state of intoxication. On the first of each month he found Chloe waiting for him at the Tivoli with the sum which he had demanded, and which Morton regularly supplied for his indulgence. With this he entered into fresh carousals, extending them until it was exhausted. He did not make any further demands upon his former mistress, he was contented so long as the money was forthcoming, and she was well satisfied to be rid of him. She wa.s provided with the necessary means by Morton to establish herself in comfortable apartments, and she. felt happier than she had in many years; but she longed for an end to the double part which' she was playing under his instructions. (To be Continued.)