swore that I struck
her! Perhaps--God knows! But she failed, even before a western jury, to
convict me of cruelty. The judge that thought me half insane would not
believe me brutal, and her application for divorce was lost.

"I need not tell you that the same friends who had opposed my marriage
now came forward to implore me to allow her to break our chains. I
refused. I swear to you it was from no lingering love for her, for her
presence drove me mad; it was from no instinct of revenge or jealousy,
for I should have welcomed the man who would have taken her out of
my life and memory. But I could not bear the idea of taking her first
husband's place in her hideous comedy; I could not purchase my freedom
at that price--at any price. I was told that I could get a divorce
against HER, and stand forth before the world untrammeled and unstained.
But I could not stand before MYSELF in such an attitude. I knew that
the shackles I had deliberately forged could not be loosened except by
death. I knew that the stains of her would cling to me and become a part
of my own sin, even as the sea I plunged into yesterday to escape her,
though it has dried upon me, has left its bitter salt behind.

"When she knew my resolve, she took her revenge by dragging my name
through the successive levels to which she descended. Under the plea
that the hardly-earned sum I gave to her maintenance apart from me was
not sufficient, she utilized her undoubted beauty and more doubtful
talent in amateur entertainments--and, finally, on the stage. She was
openly accompanied by her lover, who acted as her agent, in the hope
of goading me to a divorce. Suddenly she disappeared. I thought she had
forgotten me. I obtained an honorable position in New York. One night
I entered a theater devoted to burlesque opera and the exhibition of
a popular actress, known as the Western Thalia, whose beautiful and
audaciously draped figure was the talk of the town. I recognized my wife
in this star of nudity; more than that, she recognized me. The next day,
in addition to the usual notice, the real name of the actress was given
in the morning papers, with a sympathizing account of her romantic and
unfortunate marriage. I renounced my position, and, taking advantage of
an offer from an old friend in California, resolved to join him secretly
there. My mother had died broken-hearted; I was alone in the world. But
my wife discovered my intention; and when I reached Callao, I