FLIGHT AND DETECTION.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 2186, 20 March 1880, Page 3

FLIGHT AND DETECTION.

That “misfortunes never come singly” (says yesterday’s “Southland News”) received another illustration in the breakdown of the Te Anau and the discomfiture of one or two of her passengers. To come at once to the story, it may lie stated that some months ago a wellknown gentleman in business in Dunedin used to delight the hearts of epicures in that city with the tasty morsels that were ever and anon dished up in his establishment. As time wore on, however, be felt that beneeded a change, and after due deliberation lie determined on purchasing a “ public,” situated in a picturesque spot not 100 miles from the heart of the city. Here be and his wife and three or four children lived happily for a time. Business increased sufficiently to warrant the employment of a barmaid, and in a few days a blithe and handsome damsel appeared on the scene. Her pretty form struck the vision of the landlord, "who basked in her presence, and determined to come as near the marital relations as ho could. Taking an inventory of bis assets, lie found himself the possessor of a legal wife and four children, a smart little hostelry, and hard cash to the tune of something like £llOO. As a sort of set-off, be was indebted to various parties in the sum of £2OO. Taking cvering everything into account be determined on vamosing “with a wife that wasn’t bis,” and marrying her for better or for worse —the latter in all human probability—when safely across the water. Keeping all bis plans to himself, our friend and the fairy creature before mentioned collected an ample supply of wearing apparel, secured the money of the former, and, under cover of the darkness of night, meandered down the winding road to Port Chalmers, where the Te Aiiau had steam up in readiness to proceed to Melbourne. The Bluff was passed in safety, though the heart of the male elopper went flipperty-ffop, lest bis sudden departure should have been bruited about the city, and the fact of his untoward proceedings in deserting his wife and family communicated to the over-vigilant Sergeant Rutledge. His fears proved to be groundless, however. As the To Anau steamed proudly out of Bluff Harbor, two individuals might have been seen on the bridge congratulating each other upon the measure of success which bad attended them so far. But their congratulations wore doomed to be short lived. Four hundred miles from port, and on a day when a stiff head wind was blowing, the news hashed through the vessel that an accident had occurred which would necessitate her return to Now Zealand waters. Days rolled on, and then, to the borrow and disgust of both parties, the steamer anchored off the Bluff. Meantime the creditors of the expublican had been made aware of his sudden departure, and armed with the necessary legal process, their agents literally came down upon him like a pack of wolves. He found in a short space of time his £9OO had dwindled down to nearly £7OO, and that there was a prospect of still further trouble should his wife take any action. She did not, however, being satisfied with an unencumbered public-house; and the “publican and sinner,” after loafing about Invercargill for a day or two with the girl for whom his dam of affection had burst, was allowed to proceed over the briny waters without further interruption.