The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1891-04-05

What / have done was no murder,
but just and lawful vengeance. Never
did man love woman more truly than
loved Marie de Montauban, when
brought her hither as my bride. And
how did she repay me? Three months
after our wedding day found that she
had been false to me-false to me with a
smooth faced boy who had been my
friend and my guest, the last guest
whom these walls shall ever hold, save
the victims whom offer to my yenge-
ance. She confessed her guilt, and
died by my hand as soon as the words
were spoken; but for him reserved
doom that made him pray for death long
ere it came, and when it came at last TO
cut short his agony, embalmed his
corpse and set it up in my dining hall,
lamp in hand, to light me at my evening
meal.
A momentary shudder crept through
Madeleine's heart as she remembered
the supposed wax figure in the great
dining room, and realized how terrible
was that hatred which had carried its
vengeance even beyond the grave; bat
/
she had just seen and learned this new
horror made only passing impression.
Then" continued the letter, 81 vowed
over the body of tbs woman who had
betrayed me that my whole life should
be one long vengeance upon the accursed
sex from which she sprang, and that as
she had been false to me within three
months of our wedding morn so every
other woman who fell into my power
should die within the same time. How
! have kept my word the proofs which
this case contains may suffice to show;
and one more shall yet be added to them
ere die, let death come when it will
Gyuri Keretsenyi."
The letter dropped from Medicines
hands, The whole mystery was terribly
! clear to her now-her husband was
murderous madmanl
But even in the first shock of that fear
/ full revelation she felt strong compass
sion mingling with the instructive aver
sion in which she had always held him.
She could we'll imagine what intolerable
| agony it must have been to that strong,
simple, impulsive nature to find itself
wronged and bcfooled by the one human
being upon whom all the treasures of its
love had been outpoured Such an in
jury might well change any man into a
demon, and even now, with his life
blasted and his mind unhinged, enough
was left of his former self to show what
hero he might have been had not
woman's soft, white hand poured poison
into the clear current Of his existence.
But there was no time for such
thoughts now; her life was hanging by
hair, and it behooved her to devise
some way of deliverance ere it was too
late. Of the three months specified in
the letter as her allotted term Of grace
before being slaughtered Like her pre-
decessors, barely fortnight was now
left-practically even less in fact, for if
she could not succeed in escaping during
Keretsenyi's absence, it was hopeless to
dream Of doing SO after his return, which
might occur at any moment.
But how was this to be done? Watched
and followed everywhere as she was by
her husbands retainers, she had no
chance of getting outside OF the castle
walls alone; and even if she could con-
trive to give them the slip while riding
out in their company, what then? She
did not even know which way to turn in
order to reach the more civilized region
beyond the mountains, while her jailers
knew the whole country by heart, and
nothing would be easier than to track
her down, for in that wild district a lady
journeying by herself wassure to attract
universal attention
What could she do? Oh, if she had bat
one friend outside the walls with whom
she could communicate! But where was
such friend TO be found? And then
there came back to her, bitterly enough,
the thought Of the man who would have
given his life to save her. and who. 40