LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2499, 11 April 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

[By Jasper Jyvecote]

CAUGHT IN THE TKAP.

( Concluded) Chapter 111. As the summer days passed, Herbert Holorof t became more and more intimate with Mademoiselle d'Esterre de Moulinquerelle. Each afternoon found him in the coquettish little apartment of the fascinating governess, Fifine, it is but right to say, always being present, and to whom th-s American invariably brought some bonbona, a toy, or a bouquet. Mademoiselle never consented to give him a rendezvous in the Bois or the Boulevards, and it was only by accident, prudently arranged by the yonng lady, that he even encountered her outside of the four walls of the little room in the Bne Petit Jouvin. ' My mornings go to my pupils,' she said ; 'my afternoons seem to go to you ; my evenings go to study.' 1 Rut the theatre ?' ' Too warm' ' A drive in the Bois ?' 'Can't afford ten francs.' * Purely my carriages are all at your service.' f Couldn't afford that either, you generous Monsieur Americaine.' Holcrift tried to feel offended, and remained awey a day. 6 She will write,' he said. But she made no nign ; and wben he oame to visit her upon the following day she did not refer to his absence. But Fifine did. ' Oh, Uncle Sam'—this is what he taught the child to call him— * w« were so awfully lonely yesterday, because you did not come, and Marguerite cried and ' Mademoiselle d'Estere de Moulinquerelle hastily aaught up the child und almost tickled her to death.., , , ~; De Malmette was panting to get off to tbe Engadine, and urged Holcroft to " hurry up" but the latter pleaded excuse after excuse and delay after delay. At last however, he consented to leave upon. Saturday. When he announced his intention, Fifine gave a great cry, and Marguerite, pressing her hand hard against her heart as if to stop its tumultuous beating, wished him a pleasant trip. "De Mai," said Holcroft, ss late that evening, his face radiant, he returned to his sumptuous apartments in the Champs Elysee " I am not going my boy." "No; I see you are not," returned the other. "But you are going to do a much more foolish thing—to marry a girl that—eh bein ?"

And the Frenchman shrugged his shoulders, Mr | and Mrs Holoroft, after doing the South of Europe, proposed to visit America. Mrs Holcroft became alarmingly seasick on the trip from Liverpool to Queenstown, so much so that her husband decided upon landing and proceeding on the voyage a week or two later.

It was three weeks ere Marguerite summoned oonrage to face the Atlantio,' during which they visited KUlainey, Dublin and the Giant's Causeway. They arrived in New "Vork on a Sunday morning, and I now come back to the opening of my story. ' Mrs Holcroft wishes to see you. sir, at onoe,' said a waiter. Holcroft started, Could Marguerite be il! ? He darted up the stairs, three at a time, and found his wife standing in the middle of the sitting-room, weeping hysterically, and holding a paper pressed tightly against her heart ' My heaven ! What is the matter ?' cried Ho'croft. Ho loved his wife to distraction. It was idolatry. He lived but in her presence. Every word rang from her like a peal of music in his heart. Her touch thrilled him Her fond words intoxicated. It was a very delirium of love.

'No, no, no—not ill darling, not ill, but oh, I have such news, so good, so true, so —so wonderful.'

' Be calm, my precious one.' ' I oan't, oh, I can't, I have so much to tell you, so muoh to confess.' She sank back on a sofa. • The paper is a piece of God's providence, it is aid and help from Him. Ob, Herbert, you never asked me about my past. You never enquired who I was when you asked me to be your wife. You trusted me always,' 'Always,' he passionately murmured.' 'Herbert, that paper sots me right. It came by the mail from Paris, and was crossing the Atlantio when we were in Ireland. You must have wondered why I required so much money, darling, and where it went to ?' ' Muoh 1 Why you never wanted anything, pet.* 'I spent it on lawyers, an Madame La Farge. I wanted to set myself right. Your love for me has caused a white bed of devotion to you to blossom in my heart. I will have no oauker in that bud. Better pluck it out and orush it, see it wither leaf by leaf, than to have it worraeaten by a foul secret.'

' Foul secret!' the words coming from his lips I'M? £H ??h9t 'Yes J a He, a trap, a trick. Herbert, listen to me and—promise to forgive me.' ' Why, you are ill, Marguerite.' ' No, no, no! lam well—never more so; mo7e collected even if the fire of fever be banked up. Promise to forgive me. Oh.' she added, with a wild cry, ' how can I tell you all?' The agitation of the woman effected the man, lie became deadly pale, while his chest heaved as if moved by great tidal waves of emotion. ' That day in the Bois de Boulogne, tho first day—that rush across the road by the child and my rprain—were all planned/ 'Planned?' 'Yes, A trap set by a hideous old wretch—Madame La Farge—the wife of your conoierge. ' I do not understand.' He did not. and the words came from him in a strange uncertain way.

' I was not a governess—never a governess. I was too lazy, too indolent, I was living the life of a Bchemer.'

' Stop !' thundered Holcroft, clutching her bv the wrist till his knuckles > hone white. •What, in the Seed's name, does all this mean 1 Are you mad ?' ' I am not mad.' replied Marguerite, with with a feverish eagerness. 'I was mad to decsive you ; I will do so no more. Nay, you must —you shall hear me !' Holcroft rose and staggered to a table, en whioh ho rested by both bands, upsetting a jewel esse, from out of which rolled a set of priceless pearls, a birthday gift on board the steamer to his wife, and with flaming and hungry eyes, and a face whose expression was that of a soul awaiting the dreadful judgment, stood silent—awfully, horribly silent.

'I am living the life of a schemer—l am in the power of a villain. Oh, I have the documents of the mock-marriage safe. I was living on my wits. The woman planned the trap, set it, and baited it with me. Ycu were young, rich, romantic, impetuous —we studied you. I played my game, little knowing that my heart, my happiness, was the stake I was playing for, instead of your yellow gold. Your tenderness, your gentlemanly, honorable conduct taught mo life at its best, honour at its best, the chapter in the book which ought to be road by every pure and good woman. I became good. I grew out of yourself. Many a time did 1 resolve to make you hate me; but the temptation, the utter sweetness of being loved proved too masterful, and I married you. From the instant I became your wife. I devoted the money you so freely and unsuspectingly gave me to traoing the man who dragged me into the mire through the mock marriage. Bemember, Herbert Holcroft, I was only an adventuress—l was not vile, you understand me. I traced bim, and here—here is the document which releases me from his power for ever.' Marguerite advanced toward her husband, extending the villain's written confession. With a hoarse, dumb ory, Holcroft snatohed the paper from her quivering hands, and flung it on the blazing fire. Then oame a gurgling sound in his throat, and as she stopped to pluck the precious document from the blaze, Her) ert fell heavily to tbe floor, his heart blood dying the Aubusslon carpet. # # * * # Madame Holcroft resides at Passy, that charming suburb of Paris. Her charities are unbounded. She is known ss 'La Veuve Americaine'—'The Amerloan Widow,' TUB END.