LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2225, 14 April 1881, Page 3

LITERATURE.

DESPERATfI DOVFS. (Continued.) ' Nay, you would be shocked by my revelation, and henceforth loatho her whom now you pr: fess to pity—nay, whom I feel Bure you indeed do sincerely pity.' [Deep glances, &ighs, pressure, &c] 'Ah me, such happiness as this, of finding one sympathetic friend, is too rare alas, to be jeopardised by rashly following the dictates of my heart and reposing in you that confidence you solicit.' The sentence was long and somewhat elaborate, but it will produce no anti-climax to divulge here that {the lady was praotical, and had that very morning written three chapters of a romance. ' Nothing you could say could alter my love,' murmured Mr Squab •L-o-ve!' echoed the lady, giving the word a lingering existence, in whioh was expressed exquisite joy and agony, that died seffy in Bweetest sadness. Apain she repeated the word, pressing her hand to her Bide. 'Love ! Love for me?' ' Aye, for you, oh loveliest incarnation r>f etherlal perfection,' said Mr Pquab, catching the high-toned expression of the lady's conversation. 'You cannot be unaware cf the pacsion you have awakened in my boßom ; nay, your expressive eyes tell me you know it, ar.d even leads me to hope my sentiments are reciprocated. Oh, say it is so, and let me net perish in agonised suspense.' Bending her head, the lady falteringly responded, 'My tell-tale eyes too truly have revealed the secret of my heart, which modesty in vain struggles to conceal ' ' Then by that love, by our love, dsrling —what's your name ?' •Mabel.' • By our love, darling Mabel, I conjure you reveal the seiret of your sorrow, and why, sorrowing, you are here.' ' I am here to forget my grief, and to revenge myself upon a faithless, wicked—what do I say ?' ' Ob, do not hesitate. I should adore you, though those lovely hands were dyed with blood !'

' I feel I may trust you and I will. Strange as it may appear, I am—

She hesitated. •Go on,' said Mr Squab, relapsing into common-place. ' Married!' she faltered, and, bending her head, Bhe clasped her nether lip with her pearly teeth, and then tremulously continued—' Ob, do n/-t spurn me—do not leave me until you have heard my story ! Listen, and pity me, for I am more sinned against than sinning.' I know it! Pray go on.'

With the trusting confidence of girlhood I placed myself in the power of a smooth and smiling villain. No sooner had he led me from the altar than a smile of triumph illumined his fiendishly beautiful countenance, and tearing me from the arms of a loving mother, and severing the holy ties of sisterhood, he bore me away to the seclusion of a den. wheie none could shield me from his inveterate hate and brutality.' 'Scoundrel!' interpolated Mr Squab, audibly grinding his teeth, ' Long and patiently I suffered in silence, striving, despite his behaviour, to be to him a good and faithful wife. Oh, how I longed for one who, like you, would wipe away my tears and comfort my aching heart But still I had to bear my hard lot in solitude.' ' Solitude, it must have been, for what communion of thought or sentiment could exist between your husband—a bear—and you—an angel ?' ' A bear he was—cruel, obstinate, morose At last I could support existence with him no longer, and I fled Then his barbarity knew no bounds, and he threatened to take the lives of all I hold dear, and lay me in an untimely grave.' ' The villain ! What is his name V After a little hesitation on tho part of the lady she responded :

* Hem ! Smith I* ' Smith ? By this hand, If I meet him, he or I shall fall, Mrs Smith, never to rise again !' ' Call me not by that hateful name, bat rather by my maiden appellation—Vavassour 1' * Nay, let me call you only Mabel!' ' Can you call me Mabel, and forget my fearful past?' 'O, think not your past misfortunes prejudice me against you, or else must I appear to you no less culpable than you Imagine I think you. For know that, though youthful, I too am married!' ' Married ? Oh heavens ! and yoni wife ?' ' Call her not my wife, for she Is Mrs hem I—Montressor no more I' ' Poor, unhappy boy ! I can understand the false, dissimulating viper she must have been, who, warmed within yonr bosom, could turn her venomous fangs against your tender heart, my own Montressor !' ' Call me Theodore.' 'The-o-dore I' 'And not forget there lives one in the world bearing the name of Smith, and let me be forever thy guardian and cherisher. Fly now with me. My brougham is waiting below. Do not hesitate.' 'Give me time for reflection.' ' Impossible. Fly!' *My heart, my heait ! Oh puardiau spirits help me, for I know not how to act., ' I am thy guardian epirit, henceforth and for aye!' ' 1 feel that you are right. Lead me away." For one moment, as Mrs Smith was stepping into the brougham, Mr Squab thought of his wife, and looked nervously at the crowd, almost expecting to see there her face, and to hear her remark upon what he felt to be, despite its Platonic character, a rather improper proceeding on his part. But the pressure of a soft hand on his as he took his seat beside Mrs Smith dispelled every terror, every thought of past and future. He rapturously pressed the hand to his iips, and when they had passed from the crowded streets, and to where the imperfect light rendered discovery impossible, he again entreated the fair Mabel to unmask, at the same time removing the mask from his own face.

Mabel instantly complied. They gazed earnestly at each other in the darkness, but Love's torch dispelled the gloom. * You are more beautiful than my imagination, prompted by the lovely features your envious mask could not conceal, had pictured you,' said Mr Squab. 'And you,' responded Mabel, 'have the noble lineaments your discourse led me to conceive.' Mr Squab replied by a chaste salute ; and then the lady returned to her woes) and business. ' I fear with all your noble generosity that you -will repent the step you have taken, and regret that you ever burdened yourself with the expense of a broken-hearted woman.' 'Lively Mabel, never! What is poverty to hearts opulent with love ?' 'Oh,' said the lady. ' True I am not rich in the vulgar sense.' 'But this brougham ?' 'ls hired only for the occasion. Thrifty as I am, I could not walk along the streets in thia costume. Wnat cares passion for estate or equipage ?' ' Oh,' said the lady. ' What are jewels and riches to 'the priceless gems and treasures of mutual affection V The lady sighed, and Mr Squab continned : ' How much does your wretched husband allow you, deareßt Mabel ?' ' But a paltry pittance, scarcely sufficient to decently feed and clothe myself and the children as becomes our station in life,' replied Mabel, scornfully. - Children, did you say ?' asked Mr Squab. ' Tea, six darling little angels.' • Oh !' said Mr Squab ; and he sank back in his corner and began to calculate how much it would cost to keep twelve children, seven sisters and a mother-in-law, one wife and a friend, in the necessaries of existence. The calculation was painful, and he did not heed his fair companion's discourse until these wotds struck his ear : ' Revenge is sweet! You shall tell me what to say when we send back to the wretch the paltry pittance he thinks 1 need.' 1 Don't you think io weald be more Christian-like to take his money and forgive him ?' urged Mr Squah. ' Never, never I If you feel incapable of writing such a letter, mamma bhall como and help me.'

'Oh V said Mr Squab. Then he asked, as one would have a forlorn hope that his own senses were not to be trusted. : * Have you a mother ? ' Yea I don't think I could exist for one d*y without her. You can't imagine how clever she is.' ' Yes, I can, though. Havß yon any other near relatives V ' Some sisters, darling, I shall be quite envious if thoy come to live with ne !' 4 ln that case they h»d better not come, then, dear.' 4 Oh I was only in fun when I Raid I should be jealous. Of course, they won't care for you. * ' You may be in fan, Mrs Smith,' said Mr Pquab, now goaded to desperation by the contemplation of having to work for a family perhaps numbering forty or fifty, ' but I am in earnest, they shan't co:r.e 1' 'They shall,' said the lady quietly, yet firmly. 4 We Bhallsee," said Mr Squab, turning his faoe to the window. Mr cquab put hm feet on the opposite seat and whistled cheerfully to show his indifference and resolution, bnt presently broke off his merry tune to say : 4 If I'm to be made uncomfortable I might as well have my wife back.* 4 And if I'm not to have my own way I might as well go back to my husband.' * It isn't very complimentary to put me on a level with that fool.' 4 And it isn't kind to make bo small a distinction between me and such an idiot as the woman must have been who married yon.' 4 Idiot, madam ! I'll let you know Bhe was one of the cleverest women that I ever met.' 4 A deal too clever, I should think. Those very clever women generally make fools of themselves in the end with their dreadful tempers.' 4 She was an angel when properly managed. You derive your idea of my wife's ill-temper, surely, from the recollection of your husband's brutality.' 4 He a brute ! Dear little fellow, he had the patience and tenderness of a lapdog 1' 4 Ah, those amiable people are too stupid to be anything else.' 4 Stupid ! He was an ornament of society. His intellect was perfectly astonishing !' *My poor little wife !' [A. sigh.] 'My dear little husband!' [A sob.] 4 Oh, if you're so very fond of him, why don't you go back to him ?' 4 1 would this very moment, if he'd only ask me ' ' He's not likely to do that, with the certainty cf getting your mother and sisters as well." 'Do you think I'd let them stand in the way of reconciliation 1 No ; I've long seen the folly of that. It's irrational to expect a man to tolerate the interference of his wife's relations.' 4 My wife, I hope, wouldn't sacrifice her family so heartlessly as that. Is is reasonable that the ties knitted by long years should be suddenly and for ever broken ?' 4 Well, if you think yonr wife better than another man's why don't yon ask her to live with yon ?' 4 1 have, but she won't accept my invitation. Why don't you ask your husband's forgiveness if you think the precious flat's in the right ?' 4 1 have, but he won't read my letters * 'Allow me to observe, madam, that if yonr present professions of regard for yonr husband are true, yoar late protestations of affection for me was false.'

' Not so. I loved him madly. Bven now my heart yearnß towards you ; for something in your voice reminds me of my lost darling.' ' Very curiously that same consideration aud the faint resemblance your teeth bear to her lovely set, Ared the passion which still smoulders in my bosom.' They sank back in their corners, and for some time were lost in melancholy recollections of the partners of their affection?. Then Mr Squab, with a profound sigh, murmured : 'Dearest Octavia!' ■ Did you address yourself to me !' said the lady. 'No; I was alluding to my lost wife.' [Sigh.] ' Pardon me' [sob], ' darling Sylvius.' * What's the matter P' ' Nothing. I was apostrophizing my late husband., «Ah, Smith !' 'No, Sqnab. That is his real name. Disguise is no longer necessary. You must know, Mr Montresaor, my maiden name was not Vavassour, but Jones.' ' Is it possible ?' Mr Sqnab hastily put his feet down and turned to the lady ; the lady turned herself toward him. TV.'.e Sy had stopped before Mr Squab's rc-8i Jence, anfl the lamp placed conver.iently at the garden gate shed its effulgence into the brougham, wherefore when the driver, having descended from his box, looked through the window, &a he was about to open the door he beheld the lady and gentleman in an affectionate embrace. The fly-man was himself the father of a family, and a baehful man; so instead of opening the door he coughed, aud retiring modeßtly behind the brougham, awaited further orders.