The writer of this chronicle is not allowed to imagine that any of his readers have read the wonderful and vexatious adventures of Lady Eustace, a lady of good birth, of high rank, and of large fortune, who, but a year or two since, became almost a martyr to a diamond necklace which was stolen from her. With her history the present reader has but small concern, but it may be necessary that he should know that the lady in question, who had been a widow with many suitors, at last gave her hand and her fortune to a clergyman whose name was Joseph Emilius. Mr Emilius, though not an Englishman by birth — and, as was supposed, a Bohemian jew in the earlier days of his career — had obtained some reputation as a preacher in London, and had moved — if not in fashionable circles — at any rate in circles so near to fashion as to be brought within the reach of Lady Eustace’s charms. They were married, and for some few months Mr Emilius enjoyed a halcyon existence, the delights of which were, perhaps, not materially marred by the necessity which he felt of subjecting his young wife to marital authority. “My dear,” he would say, “you will know me better soon, and then things will be smooth.” In the meantime he drew more largely upon her money than was pleasing to her and to her friends, and appeared to have requirements for cash which were both secret and unlimited. At the end of twelve months Lady Eustace had run away from him, and Mr Emilius had made overtures, by accepting which his wife would be enabled to purchase his absence at the cost of half her income. The arrangement was not regarded as being in every respect satisfactory, but Lady Eustace declared passionately that any possible sacrifice would be preferable to the company of Mr Emilius. There had, however, been a rumour before her marriage that there was still living in his old country a Mrs Emilius when he married Lady Eustace; and, though it had been supposed by those who were most nearly concerned with Lady Eustace that this report had been unfounded and malicious, nevertheless, when the man’s claims became so exorbitant, reference was again made to the charge of bigamy. If it could be proved that Mr Emilius had a wife living in Bohemia, a cheaper mode of escape would be found for the persecuted lady than that which he himself had suggested.

It had happened that, since her marriage with Mr Emilius, Lady Eustace had become intimate with our Mr Bonteen and his wife. She had been at one time engaged to marry Lord Fawn, one of Mr Bonteen’s colleagues, and during the various circumstances which had led to the disruption of that engagement, this friendship had been formed. It must be understood that Lady Eustace had a most desirable residence of her own in the country — Portray Castle in Scotland — and that it was thought expedient by many to cultivate her acquaintance. She was rich, beautiful, and clever; and, though her marriage with Mr Emilius had never been looked upon as a success, still, in the estimation of some people, it added an interest to her career. The Bonteens had taken her up, and now both Mr and Mrs Bonteen were hot in pursuit of evidence which might prove Mr Emilius to be a bigamist.

When the disruption of conjugal relations was commenced, Lady Eustace succeeded in obtaining refuge at Portray Castle without the presence of her husband. She fled from London during a visit he made to Brighton with the object of preaching to a congregation by which his eloquence was held in great esteem. He left London in one direction by the 5 P . M . express train on Saturday, and she in the other by the limited mail at 8.45. A telegram, informing him of what had taken place, reached him the next morning at Brighton while he was at breakfast. He preached his sermon, charming the congregation by the graces of his extempore eloquence — moving every woman there to tears — and then was after his wife before the ladies had taken their first glass of sherry at luncheon. But her ladyship had twenty-four hours’ start of him — although he did his best; and when he reached Portray Castle the door was shut in his face. He endeavoured — to obtain the aid of blacksmiths to open, as he said, his own hall door — to obtain the aid of constables to compel the blacksmiths, of magistrates to compel the constables — and even of a judge to compel the magistrates; but he was met on every side by a statement that the lady of the castle declared that she was not his wife, and that therefore he had no right whatever to demand that the door should be opened. Some other woman — so he was informed that the lady said — out in a strange country was really his wife. It was her intention to prove him to be a bigamist, and to have him locked up. In the meantime she chose to lock herself up in her own mansion. Such was the nature of the message that was delivered to him through the bars of the lady’s castle.

How poor Lady Eustace was protected, and, at the same time, made miserable by the energy and unrestrained language of one of her own servants, Andrew Gowran by name, it hardly concerns us now to inquire. Mr Emilius did not succeed in effecting an entrance; but he remained for some time in the neighbourhood, and had notices served on the tenants in regard to the rents, which puzzled the poor folk round Portray Castle very much. After a while Lady Eustace, finding that her peace and comfort imperatively demanded that she should prove the allegations which she had made, fled again from Portray Castle to London, and threw herself into the hands of the Bonteens. This took place just as Mr Boteen’s hopes in regard to the Chancellorship of the Exchequer were beginning to soar high, and when his hands were very full of business. But with that energy for which he was so conspicuous, Mr Bonteen had made a visit to Bohemia during his short Christmas holidays, and had there set people to work. When at Prague he had, he thought, very nearly uravelled the secret himself. He had found the woman whom he believed to be Mrs Emilius, and who was now living somewhat merrily in Prague under another name. She acknowledged that in old days, when they were both young, she had been acquainted with a certain Yosef Mealyus, at a time in which he had been in the employment of a Jewish money-lender it the city; but — as she declared — she had never been married to him. Mr Bonteen learned also that the gentleman now known as Mr Joseph Emilius of the London Chapel had been known in his own country as Yosef Mealyus, the name which had been borne by the very respectable Jew who was his father. Then Mr Bonteen had returned home, and, as we all know, had become engaged in matters of deeper import than even the deliverance of Lady Eustace from her thraldom.

Mr Emilius made no attempt to obtain the person of his wife while she was under Mr Bonteen’s custody, but he did renew his offer to compromise. If the estate could not afford to give him the two thousand a year which he had first demanded, he would take fifteen hundred. He explained all this personally to Mr Bonteen, who condescended to see him. He was very eager to make Mr Bonteen understand how bad even then would be his condition. Mr Bonteen was, of course, aware that he would have to pay very heavily for insuring his wife’s life. He was piteous, argumentative, and at first gentle; but when Mr Bonteen somewhat rashly told him that the evidence of a former marriage and of the present existence of the former wife would certainly be forthcoming, he defied Mr Bonteen and his evidence — and swore that if his claims were not satisfied, he would make use of the power which the English law gave him for the recovery of his wife’s person. And as to her property — it was his, not hers. From this time forward if she wanted to separate herself from him she must ask him for an allowance. Now, it certainly was the case that Lady Eustace had married the man without any sufficient precaution as to keeping her money in her own hands, and Mr Emilius had insisted that the rents of the property which was hers for her life should be paid to him, and on his receipt only. The poor tenants had been noticed this way and noticed that till they had begun to doubt whether their safest course would not be to keep their rents in their own hands. But lately the lawyers of the Eustace family — who were not, indeed, very fond of Lady Eustace personally — came forward for the sake of the property, and guaranteed the tenants against all proceedings until the question of the legality of the marriage should be settled. So Mr Emilius — or the Reverend Mealyus, as everybody now called him — went to law; and Lady Eustace went to law; and the Eustace family went to law — but still, as yet, no evidence was forthcoming sufficient to enable Mr Bonteen, as the lady’s friend, to put the gentleman into prison.

It was said for a while that Mealyus had absconded. After his interview with Mr Bonteen he certainly did leave England and made a journey to Prague. It was thought that he would not return, and that Lady Eustace would be obliged to carry on the trial, which was to liberate her and her property, in his absence. She was told that the very fact of his absence would go far with a jury, and she was glad to be freed from his presence in England. But he did return, declaring aloud that he would have his rights. His wife should be made to put herself............