LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 1993, 14 July 1880, Page 3

LITERATURE.

HAWK’S NEST. i (Concluded.) ‘ Thank God !’ he exclaimed, ‘ here comes Madame Depau.' Sure enough it was that lady, accompanied by her son, who had returned home, and Doctor Twiatleton, her family doctor. * It was such a beautiful evening,’ she explained, ‘that we really couldn’t remain indoors. What do I see ?’ she exclaimed, starting in great alarm, * That is not Philip ! Dr, Twistleton, make haste, don’t you see the young man is deranged or something ? Oh, my God ! isn’t it fortunate the doctor happened to come along with ua ?’

With considerable difficulty the three men managed to carry the sufferer into the house, where his extraordinary antics were resumed. Sometimes he sang and shouted, sometimes he grinned and put out his tongue. The doctor opined that he waa laboring under a severe attack of temporary insanity. Narcotics were exhibited without any apparent relief. It was necessary to guard the patient all night, Madame Depau remaining and offering what assistance and advice her experience enabled her to command.

* I know that insanity runs in the Piker blood,’ she told Colonel Lawrence and Doctor Twistleton; * * Old Piker’ told me so many times, and, indeed, unless I am mistaken, the old man himself was very odd at times, ’

Early in the morning a servant was despatched for another physician. He came. The two doctors examined the patient and compared notes. Then they agreed upon the affidavit, and Philip Biker was removed during the day to a lunatic asylum. ‘ Isn’t It dreadful to think of, poor fellow !’ exclaimed Madame Depau ; ‘and just fancy if your daughter had married that unfortunate lunatic! ’ She was talking to Colonel Lawrence after the patient had been sent away and the medical men had taken their leave.

• Bat she never dreamed of marrying him, * replied the Colonel. ‘Oh, yes, she did: I know she did; she was quite in love with him, and now. Colonel, yon must see the propriety of urging her to marry my Alphonse, and so escape all possible danger in the future.’ • I am sure I am quite agreeable,’he replied. When Madame Depau returned to her home, she was dismayed to find that her waiting maid had been delirious all night. The cook, an elderly Yankee woman, had administered a tumbler of hot mustard and water internally. A copious discharge had followed. It was of a green colour. Alphonse told the cook that Mr Philip Hiker had become insane. The cook, a shrewd woman, began to reflect. Both the young man and the waiting maid had eaten of the spinach —the latter having purloined her share as she was clearing the dishes off the diningtable.

‘ Mary,’ she said next day, as she sat by the girl’s bedside, ‘ did Madame eat any of them spinaches ? ’ ‘No,’ said Mary ; ‘only Mr Biker,’ * And yon ? ’ added the cook, ‘Well, I ate what was left—there wasn’t much.’ The shrewd domestic asked no more questions. She began to act in her silent, quick way. Two days after she obtained leave of absence to visit her sister in New York. Instead of visiting her sister she proceeded to the lunatic asylum in which Philip Biker was confined.

Preparations for the nuptials of Alphonse Depau and Helen Lawrence were pressed rapidly onward by their respective parents. The two principals manifested no particular interest in the auspicious event; but Madame Depau had done the persuasive talking and the young lady believed that the artful woman was actuated by the best possible motives. Hence it came to pass that on the morning of the Fourth of July the bridal party was assembled in the drawing-room of Hawk’s Nest, awaiting the arrival of the Episcopal clergyman. Finally a carriage drove up to the front entrance, and four men alighted. These were the clergymen, two ronghish looking individuals, and Philip Biker. They walked up the steps, rang the bell and were admitted. The two roughlooking men did not wait for further invitation. They marched along the corridor, entered the drawing-room, approached Madame Depau, and said : ‘Madame, yon are our prisoner.’ The woman turned as pale as a corpse, and swooned away. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ indignantly exclaimed the master of the house. ‘lt means, Colonel Lawrence,’ said one of the officers, ‘ that we have a warrant for the arrest of this lady, and we mean to do our duty. ’ ‘On what charge, pray—there must be some terrible mistake,’ and turning to Philip, he asked, ‘ Can you explain this ? There must be some terrible mistake here.’

‘ I prefer to say nothing at present,’ modestly answered the young man. ‘ The grounds for the unfortunate woman’s arrest will, no doubt, transpire in the preliminary examination before the Magistrate,’ Dismay and consternation sat upon every face. The clergyman led Helen from the apartment, while Alphonse knelt by the side of his mother, and implored her to speak to him, and to explain the cause of this terrible Interruption. Slowly she recovered consciousness, but she refused to speak concerning the position in which she found herself.

‘ Anything I did, I did it for you,’ she said to her son; ‘it is all no use now.’ Then she relapsed into moody silence, only requesting permission to visit her home and change her apparel before being committed to prison. Accompanied by Alphonse and the officers, she alighted at her own door for the last time. The officers accompanied her upstairs, and stationed themselves outside her apartment. They heard her opening bureau drawers, and they heard the water running in the bathioom. They thought she was a long time In making her toilet. Yet they were patient. At length one of them rapped on the door and said : ‘Madame, pi ay make haste; we have already waited three-quarters of an hour !’ Fifteen minutes more passed. Still the water in the bathroom was running. ‘ Be kind enough to ask your mother to make haste,’ said the man who had already spoken to Alphonse. •Mother! Mother !’ he plaintively exclaimed ; ‘ let me oome in ; perhaps I can help you ; the men are tired waiting. ’ Still there was no response, and still the water could bo heard running in the bathroom.

‘ She must have fainted,’ said poor Alphonse. ‘Gentlemen, I fear we must force open the door.’ The three men applied their shoulders to the door, and, after a vigorous and sustained effort, the lock gave way. Alphonse entered the room alone. Ha saw the mother’s clothes lying in a heap on the floor. Not seeing her, he fancied she must be taking a bath. Ho said, — • Mother, are you in the bathroom ? ’ But there was no reply, nor any sonnd of movement, save that the water continued to flow. A peculiar smell then attracted his attention. He stepped to the bathroom and looked in. He saw with horror that it was filled with bloody water. He looked nearer, and beheld his mother lying at the bottom of the tub, with her throat cut from ear to ear. The instrument of death, a large ivoryhandled carving-knife, was still held in her right hand. He threw his hands aloft, uttered a shriek like the cry of a lost soul, and fell senseless on the floor. Tho two officers entered. Madame Depau had anticipated the law’s action. She had removed her ease from an earthly tribunal to the Supreme Court above. ‘M God have mercy upon her soul!’ said both men, crossing themselves. Madame Depau had snbEtitnted the leaves of the datura stramonium —or thorn-apple—-for spinach on the day that Philip Biker dined alone with her. Her son’s botanical skill had, unconsciously to himself, contributed to the accomplishment of the crimo. He had informed his mother, in the course of a conversation, that the leaves of tho datura stramonium had been mistaken for and eaten as spinach, producing a state of chorea, with singing, dancing, laughing, and other mad frolics ; and that these delirious symptoms had been known to last eleven days. Having represented herself as exceedingly desirous of seeing this dangerous plant, he had brought her some of the leaves, at the same time informing here where it

might ba obtained on the Palisades in great quantities. The cook had suspected her mistress, because she had followed the waiting maid from the table and asked what had become of the remainder of the spinach. * Sure, I threw it out, ma’am,’ said Mary ; whereas she had eaten it in the passage. The cook had carried some particles of the 1 spinach ’ to the physician at the asylum, and had informed him of the case of Mary and of his patient, Philip Piker. Tice doctor waited till his patient recovered, and then informed him that he had been the victim of a conspiracy. The summons and arrest were the result. It only remains to be added that before another fourth of July came round, Helen became Mrs Philip Piker, and that Alphonse went to Europe and obtained the professorship of botany in a French college.