Transcriber's Notes: 1. Page scan source: http://archive.org/details/betrayaljohnfor00farjgoog (New York Public Library) THE BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM BY B. L. FARJEON AUTHOR OF "Aaron the Jew," "A Fair Jewess," "The Last Tenant," "The Peril of Richard Pardon," Etc., Etc. * * * R. F. FENNO AND COMPANY 112 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK COPYRIGHT, 1896, BY B. L. FARJEON. _Betrayal of John Fordham_. THE BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM. * * * CHAPTER I. JOHN FORDHAM'S CONFESSION. My name is John Fordham, and I am thirty-four years of age. So far as I can judge I am at present of sound mind, though sadly distraught, and my memory is fairly clear, except as to the occurrences of a certain terrible night in December two years ago, which are obscured by a black cloud which I have striven in vain to pierce. These occurrences, and the base use to which they have been turned by an enemy who has made my life a torture, have brought me to a pass which will cause me presently to stand before the world as a murderer. No man accuses me. It is I who accuse myself of the horrible crime, though I call God to witness that I know not how I came to do it, save that it must have been done in self-defense. But who will believe me in the face of the damning evidence which I afterwards found in my possession--and who will believe that when the fatal deed was done I did not see the features of the man I killed, and did not know who he was? My protestations will be regarded as weak inventions, and will be received with incredulity--as probably I should receive them were another man in my place, and I his judge. It is the guiltiest persons who most loudly proclaim their innocence, and I shall be classed among them. Am I, then, weary of life that I deliberately place myself in deadly peril, and invite the last dread sentence of the law to be passed upon me? In one sense, yes. Not a day passes that my torturer does not present himself to sting and threaten me and aggravate my sufferings. My nights are sleepless; even when exhausted nature drives me into a brief stupor my fevered brain is crowded with frightful images and visions. So appalling are these fancies that there is a danger of my being driven mad. Death is preferable.