Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1880-06-07
Tricked and Tracked.
BY MARY MARK-LEMON.
PART I.-TRICKED.

cident occurred in my life, which may
possibly prove interesting to those who.
like myself, are too easily imposed
upon; and although, by the recital, l
hold myself open to the ridicule of the
mind masculine, which, by its own
showing, is never duped or deceived by
impostors, yet, in order to warn those
of my own sex who are more readily
wrought upon, l will narrate, as nearly
as l can, strange adventure which
befel me during the winter of 1869.
am the wife of an English officer,
and, at the time of which | write, was
residing in Paris. Late in June, my
husband hadAreceived orders to be in
readiness to sail with his regiment for
G. the following month; but, as his alb
sence was not likely to be of long dura-
tion, had decided not to accompany
him, and had determined to make Paris
my headquarters during the time of our
enforced separation.
The preparations for his departure
had to be pressed forward with all ex-
pedition, and. as is so often the case
when time is valuable, every possible
difficulty seemed to crop up to hinder
the progress of our work.
The eliminating point at last arrived,
when my husbands body-servent fell
suddenly i'll, and sent in his resignation
the very week they were expecting to
start. We at once made inquiries on
all sides for man competent of filling
the vacant post. In this instance for
tune favored US. Just as we were be-
ginning to despair of success, French
man, who spoke very tolerable English,
applied for the situation and his ref
erences being satisfactory, we hastily
engaged him, heartily glad to have
brought an unpleasant affair to so for
tunate conclusion.
Although L had many friends resid-
ing in Paris, | had no near relations l
could ask to remain with me during my
temporary exile; my husbands people
all lived in Ireland, and, with the ex-
ception of few scattered cousins, my
only existing relative was one brother
(some years younger than myself, to
whom l was greatly attached, but who
for years past had been source of con-
slant anxiety to me by reason of his
wild and reckless manner of living. My
husband had assisted him in numerous
difficulties, but his patience had at
last become exhausted and he had had
to tell my brother plainly and decisive.
ly, that only in case of extremity, such
as an illness, which should really in
capacitate him from work, or from some
such urgent cause, would he supply him
again with pecuniary help. Several
letters passed between them at this pc.
riod then followed an interval of ST.
lence, which had remained unbroken ur
to the time of which l write. This nat
urally caused me much uneasiness al
times but 1 could only hope he had al
length felt the necessity of putting his
shoulder to the wheel, and was striving
to regain the good name he had lost by
his own foolish conduct.
Time passed slowly away. Many O.
my friends had returned to England fol
the Winter, and l was more than eve
alone; my husband had now been gon,
some months, and, although his letter.
began to breathe vague hope of hi
|, return, l knew that some time must ye
elapse before we should meet again
One evening Il remember it was tht
22d of january, was sitting by my
self, vainly trying to get interested il
the book l was reading, when not
was brought me by one of the servant
of the hotel, who said the bearer wa
waiting my reply. The letter was neat
ly folded, and addressed in a woman
handwriting to "The Lady of Captain
, Ralph Branscombe," and was marked
"Private." 1t was. however, rather /;
strange-looking document; and break
ing the seal in a spirit of curiosity,
! read the following:
"Madame,-I write this to you OF
behalf of your brother, Monsieur Rich
ard Willoughby, who lies at this house
dying. Would you see him alive, yor
must come at once-without hesitation
, Madame, the poor gentleman is yer,
! sick-sick to death in mind and body
for he lies in fear of arrest, and wors
than arrest, even in his dying state
He prays you ask your husband to as
sist him, as he promised, in this hi
last sore strait. No one but Captai
Branscombe may accompany you, Q
{ know of your errand: you must brin
, with you fifty pounds in gold, if possi
: BILE. English money will do, but nc
! notes. Your escort will only be littl
child, but he knows every turn of th
!. way you will have to traverse. Com
! on foot-to drive might excite suspicion
: Monsieur repeats, 10 one but sRalpt
/ may come with you; he is too i'll t
write anything more than his name