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(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.) THE TRUE STORY OF V ALDESPIN-A. By J. A. FRAZER. CHAPTER XI,TI-I.E STAIN OF THE T SHADOW STILL. I entered the house a broken-hearted man. IV hat was life without Gertrude ? Something less than nothing. 1 would wait till my darling was safe again at home, and then giv e myself Up to the police. I prayed for the weather to ihange, that the end might come scon. an aimless, dejected way I wandered among the rooms once tenanted by those who, ItS viceroys, and archbishops, and courtiers, and generals had afterwards written their! names across the pages of the world's history. How hateful to me in their decay the salas, ttith iron-barred windovs and faded Inlanders tapestry, how paltry the Cordovan leather, the uneven mosaics, and carved panels illustrative pf the achievements of warriors of old and the lives of the saints, the antique cabinets, out of whose scratches biographies might have been written, and the har&sichord, with weak, stri- dent wires, in the counter where Venus and I'syche stood in colours more wan and faded than the faded and gold upon the walls. The name of the plaeQuita Pesares—that signified a Utopia whence care is driven, was loathsome in its grotesque irony. Even the portraits of the kings of Spain "in the little library, and the meagre knights and saints, and the court beauty, with eyes that followed you Everywhere, frowned from their ancient frames bs if my alien intrusion was avenged. The blight that had fallen upon their house, even. Upon the lichen on its crumbling walls, had extended itself to me. The few first days Pedro dogged my steps with anxious solicitude; aierwrids", under- standing that I wished to be alone, he left me to jryself, following me only with his trollhle-l looks. Ths weather continued tine and the cold intense. The wind had sunk to the low, almost imperceptible murmur may be heard in the country suring settled calm, and scarcely moved a twig of the leafless trees in the garden where the broken aymphs and eupids lav. The patio, with its gnarled Pgcrees, Rnd gargoyles, and Carlos Qumto fountain, was scarred with the unsightly marks of my reno- vating hand. e' Better have razed the old house to the ground, tnd let the sun shine, and the grass grow, luld the green trees wave over the site than insult its ancient lineage by this exposure of ¡to:¡ poverty, or try to digriify its dreariness, tongraced by woman's presence, into the sem- blance of a home. I wished the darkness that Every^ nigiit shrouded th.6 river and 'hills under its kindly pall would seal my eyes for ever- Eicre. Heaven only knows what would have been Me existence I should have dragged out if it naa not been for an incident which ocurred to Change the current of my life. But one early day in Februarv Pedro Brought, on his return from the village, a newspaper packet that had been addressed to me at the "EstanM." The outer wrapoer Was ii) the handwriting of my landlady" at fepitauuer: inside were two''London Tribunels"' if im ,9? December, addressed to me by rred. Trembling with the knowledge of what I should find I could not trust myself to Etm"d»rlvJro liad w* « 1 « the door f The centre nage bore the inevitable heading 2 end was maae more gruesome by the portrait wr the murdered man and a, woodcut of the toorn where he was found. I I need not, however, go into preliminary dc-tails what I read is written here. "THE INQUEST AND VERDICT. FURTHER DISCLOSURES. £ IR, FOSTER GIVES EVIDENCE." «.+ rr<8 1,l'-luil;v .concerning the death of the »ue C-apiaiu J. Burton, who was found mur- dered m the room of the lodger Johnson alias Graham, at No. 52, George -street,'W.C., on the afternoon of the 16th inst., was held yesterday at the of Granby Hotel, before Mr. n°' "reenhalgh, coroner of the district." Cn a side-board were placed the articles found upon the body of the deceased, viz. a gold watch and chain, a purse containing J62 17s. bd. in gold and silver; pencil and card eases, the latter empty; studs and links, and II; cambric handkerchief marked with his ini- tials. At the opposite side of the room was the blood-stained evening dress worn by the murderer when he committed the fatal (Ieed; the knife, and bottle of ether, presumably his, and a box of clothes and personal effects, afford- jng- no clue that would lead to the discovery of tlK- owner. A mother of pearl gold fan, a cedar cabinet •n crusted with Moorish silver filigree, and a gr pearl and diamond necklet, doubtless intended w, pifcents for the lady whose. tragic disap- pearance had so much intensified the mvstery, were ranged on an adjoining table, and evoked t considerable interest. The usual formalities were, followed by the identification of the corpse by Joseph L. Burton, Esq., of Whitethorn Drive, N ewark-on-T rent, brother to the nœea.ed. » Chief-superintendent Birch, of the Criminal Investigation Department, watched the case on Investigation Department, watched the case on behalf of the police. (k.T,.rs. G- witiie.-is called was the landlady, Rfrs. Griffiths, who gave evidence as to the finding of the body. She deposed, to quote verbatim'"The day as the. murder was, BMizer—taat's my servint, penelraen—come and tele me as she couldn't get in to tidy Mr. Johnson's room up no how. 'The door's locked,' *he ses. So I ses, 'Nonsense, it carn't be It's never locked when I go. Mebbe the catch '3,3 got stuck.' But she ses, 'No, it!' Then I ees, 'Wait a. minit, then, and I'll go.' And I we-nt, and what I seed give me the"'orrers. as I jthinks I shall never get over." By the Coroner: "At what hour did you go to Air. Johnson's room?" Witness: "Arf parst three, yer honour! flElizer went up ter make 'is bed, I tell ver, and found the door locked. She tole me", and I ees, mebbe lie's comin' back, and we'd oetter not opell it and vex im, 'e btiin' rather a I ,h and Blighty sort." The Coroner: "What do you mean by high and mighty ?" ''Well, yer honour, a sort of 'eavy swell, ver know." "Then you broke the, door open at half-past three! And you had wnited till then. Why did you not wait a little longer?" "'Cos the top attic bein' ginerally my room, all the best 'ouse and tablelinnin is kep' there in the drawer, which was wanted that evenin' %t six, the first floor givin' a. party." "Then the house being full, you g'?ve up your room to accommodate this man Johnson?" "Yes, sir, bad scran to him, till the. first floor left! Mr. Foster, which is quite a gen- tleman, although I say it, 'e 'avin' brought two young medicals as wus alius money down and 110 questions, 'e interduced us." "Mr. Foster, the dramatic author?—"Yes, fir." "A good recommendation, doubtless Which, then, was your room in the meanwhile?" "Me and Elizer 'ad a shake up on the sofy in the kitching." "The kitchen is in the basement under the Iiail. is it not?" "Yes, sir, it is." "On the night of the murder Mr. Johnson was out, I believe?" "In a cab, your honner, at nine o'clock, with Mr. Foster. "You are sure of that?" "Y e: Elizer went and fetched it, and 'ad a, ride back. The clock struck as I was a- lookin' through the blind." "At what time did be return?" "I don't know. Mr. Jenkins, as is one of my lodgers, ses at a quarter to one; but I never 'eard 'im." "Then how did he get in-had he a latch- key ?" "Of course 'e 'ad! A pretty job me and ■■{Elizer should 'ave a-lettin' of 'em in at all hours cf the night." The Coronr: "You tell us that you and the servant slept in the kitchen under the hall pas- Bage. Do you mean to say that a man could let himself in, cross over your head, and go up- stairs without waking you?" Witness (hysterically): "It's the howly truth I'm tellin' yer, sir; we didn't neither on us 'E;ar nothinli. We works 'ard, and we sleeps ?ard; and it's a blazin' shame that them male brutes should be allowed to go about murderin' ipore innercents in their beds, and ruinin' tl".( in u liat slaves night and day to pay rent and taxes idl for nothing." I Witness being about to retire in high dud- geon, By the Coroner: "Stay a moment, Mrs. Griffiths, we haven't done with you yet!" Witness "Well, sir, "opin yer won't be long, 'cos of somethmk bilin' on the fire for dinner when I came away." The Coroner: "You see that bottle on the table ?" "In course I dos, I 'ope 'avin' eyes." "Was it in the room when the murder was discovered ?' "Yes." "Had you ever seen it before?" "Many a time, yer honner. Mr. Johnson 'e brought it when "e come, an' I thought the Coroner: "Well, wliat did you think, Mrs. Griffiths ?" "1 thought it might be scent; there's no 'arm in that, I 'opes." "Certainly not. And perhaps you took the stopper out to make sure?" '"Well, sir, not deceivin' yer, I did, an' very nasty it smelt, an' I ses to myself. 'Lor, 'ere's a go! it's smetiin' salts, but, never mind, it'll come in useful when I'm took poorly. The Coroner "It's as well you were not 'took poorly,' if that is the way you meddle with tilings that don't belong to you. Then you swear the bottle you see is the same that you thought contained smailing salts?" "'Yes, sir." "And that it was the property of your lodger Johnson?" Witness (in tears): "Yes, an' I wish they'd both been dro'.vrded afore ever I seed "em. The servant girl was next called. She gave her name as Bliza. Scrubbing, ard dc--ro:ei-t: "I am general at 32, George-street. I knowed Mr. Johnson very well—'e 'ad been at our three weeks. I knowed Mr Foster by sight, cos he come 'ere two or three times. On the night afore the murder Mr. Johnson said if I'd fetch a cab 'e'd give me a shiilin', and when it come 'e couldn't find one, so he give me 'arf :t crown, and ses, 'You must work it out, me gal. and go next time for nothin. The Coroner: "And tlwn he drove away." "No, he didn't Just as 'e was goin' up come 1111'. Foster in another cab, and Mr. Johnson got in that, an' the first cabby said they was a adorn' of 'im, an' Mr. Foster larfed, and chucked him summat, ai-d told him to go to the devil." "What was he weaTing?" "Which, sir?" "The lodger Johnson what. had he got on?" "A evenin' tuit, with a big white dickey an' topper." By the Conner: "A what?' Chief-superintendent' Birch: "Shirt front and silk hat. sue means,.sir." The Coroner: "And how was Mr. Foster dressed?" "The werry blessed same." "When did you see Mr. Johnson "The mo.min' arter I was washin' the front step. He come downstairs, and ses, 'I'm goin' out all day,' he scs, 'and shan't be back till night. Tell yer Then 'e 'ooked it." "Did you notice what he wore on that last occasion ?" "A grey tweed suit, an' 'at to match, made of the same stuff, with an overcoat over his arm." "What kind of a, coat?" "A grey 'un same as gents wears in summer. The one lie 'ad on was a little un like the trousers." "It is probably a dust coat you mean. Had he anytliinc in his hand?" "Yes. I forgot, the bag!" The Coroner: "What kind of a, bag? Was it like this?" (holding up a brief bag). Witness: "No, sir: squarer, and with strap round, as they calls Gladstuns." Dr. Probe was then summoned. He deposed: "I .am the duly qualified assistant of Dr. Launcelot Anodyne, surgeon to the Metropoli- tan Police, and I reside at 10, Carmine-place, Bayswater. On the 16tli inst., being sum- moned to the scene of the murder by Inspector Davis, I found the deceased lying on the bed. The trachea and oesophagus were severed, the edges of the wound being ragged and uneven, as if the instrument used had been both blunt and small for the purpose. By the Coroner: "Then you do not think it was inflicted by a razor! "I should say most decidedly not. More probably it was done with the knife found. There was half-congealed blood on the sheet and pillows, and it had run down in a small pool at the bedside; but I thought- at the first glance the hemorrhage slight considering the frightful nature of the gash. On making an examination this was accounted for. I found a small punctured wound over the fifth rib. That was the immediate cause of death; the weapon Striking downwards had penetrated the left ventricle of the heart. The hemorrhage was chiefly internal, and the lungs and stomach were filled with blood. "The gash in the throat was inflicted after death had taken place, I suppose." Exactly. It was done in pure wanton savagery, and either by an unskLful or a care- less hand. The stab in the heart, however, was from a, small curved instrument!, and betrayed I considerable anatomical knowledge and skill. "Did ycu notice any peculiar smell in the room r "Yes; it was ether. There was a bottle of it, bearing the signature of Bigaad and Cie., Paris, on the dressing-table. It was the one yousee.andhadbeenopened." "Is it usual for such dangerous agents to be sold to prsons?"- "Assuredly not. The label is that of a well- known firm; it would be best to communicate with them. Of course, I cannot say under what restrictions it may be sold abroad." Mr. Alfred Jenkins, the next witness called, then deposed "I am bookkeeper to the Uni- versal Pure Fruit Jam Company in Dowdy- square, and I lodge at Mrs. Griffiths, where the murder took place. When I came home on the night of the i5th the servant told me that her missis had sent her to say that Mr. Johnson, the lodger in the attic, had gone to a party, so that I mustn't be surprised if I heard him come home early in the morning." By the Coroner "And you heard him come ?" "y E'.S; at a, quarter to one.. I was a.lmost asleep, but I heard him stumbling up the stairs just as the rlock struck in the hall." "Did he make more noise than usual, then?" "Yes he stumbled a good deal, as if he, were fresh, and trying to get up too quick." "Did you hear him enter his room?" "Yes. He walked about a gooclish bit at first, and it sounded as if he was talking." "Did you hear anyone else in the room 2" "No." "How many voices were there?"—"I only hard two." "Then lie might have been talking to him- self?" "\Ye11. he might!—only it sounded like quar- relling in a whisper." "I don't know that it's usual to quarrel in a whisper; but those who talk to themselves are generally grumbling, are they not?"—"I don't know, sir." "Well. at all events, didn't you think it strange for him to be talking to someone at that hour of the night, when he occupied the rooms alone?" "Yes, I dicl-at first." "How long did the talking continue?" "Not so very long. I heard it by fits- and starts." "Did you try to listen ?" "No. I thought, perhaps, he 'had nicked up with -some girl. It. wasn't my business. I went to sleep, for I was tired." "Ami when you heard of the murder dtd you conclude the deceased wa,3 the pension the lodger had been talking to?" "Yes; and then I thought it strange I had not. heard his voice." Mr. Fred Fester.the popular of "Under the Stars." waa^next sworn. He deposed: "I reside at Musigrove-chambers, Waterside- street, and am the friend of the accused. I have often met Captain Burton, on several occasions!, the last being at the soiree at Athelstane on the night of the 15th." "The one for which you caused an invita- tion to be sent to your friend ?" "Yes." "May I ask the reason whyt)" Witness: "Mr. Tol-i-iiston-who-,e real name is John Ward1, and who is the son of the late Colonel Ward, of the 2nd Berks-was an old college friend of mine. He left England while I was still at Cambridge, and I lost sight of him till last November, when he called on me- By the Coroner: "Had you ceased to cor- respond, or are we only to infer that you did not exneot this visit ?" "Beth, We had lost sight of each other for some years, as schoolfellows often do." "Did he> say whether he had come waa. a visit of pleasure, or with the intention' of living here ?" "I understood him to say that his purpose was to marry Miss Attereliffe--a young lady he had long been engaged to—and to take her back to Spain." "Did lie tell you her father was aveTS to the match p" "He spoke of her father's opposition, but said that, years ago, Mr. Attercliffe had pro- mised to marry his daughter when he was able to keep her suitably to her station in life. Having achieved a position, he re- turned, lie said,, to claim the fulfilment of this promise." "And did Mr. Attercliffe then consent ?" "No! he flatly refused to keep his word, ,iiid. as Miss Attercliffe was almost of ag'e, any friend said something about waiting till then." The Coroner: "So, knowing that Mr. Atter- cliffe was invited to the soiree, you obtained an introduction for his ward, for the express pur- pose of contriving a. meeting for the lovers?" "I did. They were both old enough to know their own minds, aod choose for themselves." "Then you do not think your friend capable of this crime?" "What a question, sir! Certainly not; and it will he my aim and purpose to prove his innocence by bringing the real perpetrators to justice. By the Coroner: "Yet we see, every day, men who have radically changed their characters, for better or worse, in a much less period of time than that during which you lost sight of each other. Was it well, think you, to assume on his return, you knew not whence, that he was a fit and propel person to he given the entree at Athelstone House—to assume, in short, that his having been—as, doubtless, he was—. irreproachable at college was any sort of guarantee that lie was not a villain then?" Witness (indignantly): "I assumed nothing of the kind. I never doubted him. That he is capable of committing this, or any other crime, is for you, sir, to prove, not insinuate." "Certainly. On the night of the soiree did you know that your friend and Miss Atter- cliffe were going to elope on the following day ?" "I did not. I contrived the meeting out of sympathy for the lovers. I obtained.during one of the dances, an introduction to Miss Attercliffe, and asked her to accompany me to the con- servatory, where, I said she would find an old friend waiting. I had directed Ward to be at the place, and brought them together, but I had no idea they contemplated such a sudden step. I supposed they would devise some means of communicating with each other—that was all." "How long were they in the conservatory?" "A minute or two only. Captain Burton made hiR appearance and interrupted them." "And that led to high words?" "Yes." "What was mid 1" "I really cannot recollect. Everything took place so qu'ekly that I could not be posi- tive as to the exact words used." "Can you not recollect anything that was said?" "I remember that Captain Burton called Mr. Ward a sneak and a cad, and that I inter- posed. WHAT WAS LIFJ: WITHOUT GERTRUDE." "I said lie was a friend of mine, and that, as nephew of the hostess, I vouched for the respectability of any of the invited guests, i also begged him to withdraw the offensive ex- pression. He was in a passion, and replied that he would see, me in hell first. I then asked him for his card-at which he threw one on the ground, saying if I wanted him I knew where he was to be found and then, turning to Mr. Ward, struck him across the face with his glove. I sprang between to avert a public scandal, and dragged my friend to the vesti- bule. One or two others had then, come up, and someone forced Captain, Burton away. The last I heard him say was that he would 'horse- whip the hide off' Mr. Ward's 'damned car- ca,ss. These were his exact words." "Where was Miss Attercliffe all this time to "I am told a Spanish gentleman who was there took her back to the drawing-room." "Then a meeting was arranged for the follow- ing day?" "Not arranged; though it was perfectly un- derstood there would be one. I promised to call upon Captain Burton." "And did you?" "I first went to my friends at a quarter to nine the following morning. He was out, and I spent several hours locking for him." By the Coroner 'Did it occur to you that he had run away?" "No, sir, it did not. I knew that was the t last thing he would do. I thought he might have gone to meet Captain Burton alone On inquiring at the deceased's address, and finding i-him also out, I concluded that must be the case." "Did you communicate with the roli "No. It was not till the afternoon that I felt quite sure, they had arranged the meeting by themselves, arid shortly afterwards the murder was discovered." "After the quarrel in the conservatory, how long did your friend stay at the house?" "He left immediately afterwards. I let him out at the side door. It was then half-past twelve exactly—the clocks struck the half hour as I did so." "At that, time did Captain Burton leave?" "I do not know. I stayed about three quarters of an hour after, and he was certainly there then." "How do you account for his being found in the attic in George-street?" "I cannot account for it. The police have a theory, I believe." "Have you heard that?" Witness: "Yes, and it only tends to mystify the case still more. The ill-feeling between them was only of a few hours' existence, and it would have been impossible in so short a time to have successfully carried out such a design, unless the plot had been made and accomplices procured beforehand. I cannot too strongly point out that there are absolutely no grounds for a suspicion of anything of the sort. Mr. Ward had never seen Captain Burton till the night of the ball, and, though he had heard of him, he did not look upon him in the light of a serious rnal." You admit they were rivals in some sense, then?" I am aware that Captain Burton had made advances to Miss Attercliffe, but my friend was her accepted suitor. They had been engaged five years." Have you any reason to suppose that ill- feeling existed between Miss Ward and Mr. Attucliffe?" "Not on Ward's part. Mr. Attercliffe wished his daughter to marry Captain Burton, because he was wealthy and an English landowner. It was, I believe, a favourite saying with him that his daughter should marry acres, and not a parcel of foreign bonds. Is it true that Ward was introduced at' Lady Beetroot's as Mr. Gjraliam, of South America ?" Quite true. I introduced him by that name at his own request." "Why so?" Because, as I have said, he did not wish it to be known that lie was present." "Is it a fact that Miss Attercliffe had been forbidden to see her lover, and that her father had broken up his Norwich establishment and come to town because he discovered a clan- destine correspondence had been carried on between them?" "It is a fact that Mr. Ward had been for- bidden the house, and that Mr. Attercliffe alleged the above as lis reason for removing to town, but the correspondence had been carried on openly, and it was not until my friend wrote stating liis position and prospects, and asking again detinitely for his daughter's hand, that Mr. Attercliffe broke up his home." The Coroner "And then ?" In consequence of a note he received from Miss Attercliffe, my friend returned to Eng- land and called upon her father to renew his suit. There was a somewhat stormy scene, I believe, and he was ordered from the house. That is all I know of it." ilien you procured him lodging's under an alias, so that he could be in the neighbourhood, unknown to her father, until the young lady came of age?" "Precisely. Miss Attercliffe, though a. very amiable person, has a will of her own., and was not to be coerced into a marriage she disliked." "During the time he was in the room, did he not mention his foreign address?" "Not that I remember. I never troubled to ask him. I aid not anticipate that he would be going back for some time—certainly not with- out acquainting me with such an intention." "And did you not even know from what part of the world he "He said that he had been principally at Santander, in the North of Spain, but that he had left, or wan about to leave, tollive at an estate of his further in the interior. These details we never entered into." "Then you can give positively no clue- as to his whereabouts?" "I cannot; I wish I could! But I am assured, if he is alive, he will come forward to give what explanation he ca.n of this most unhappy affair." Police-inspector Davis having given evidence as to the finding of the body of the murdered man, By the Coroner: "Have you any objections to making known your theory as to how deceased wa.s conveyed to the attic?" Inspector Davis: "None whatever. In view of the difficulty of accounting for it, and the fact that the house next door was empty, I made a thorough examination of both premises. I found no secret communication such as some- times exists in old houses, but in the ceiling of the attic where the body was found is a square trap-door, such as is left by builders for repair- ing the roofs. This had been recently disturbed, so I procured a short ladder and climbed up. Under the rafters was this rope" (pointing to one about three yards long, with a running noose,) "and sufficent of the bricks in the parti- tion wall between No. 32 and the. empty house had been loosened to make a hole big enough for a man to creep through. They had been re-placed, but the floor was covered with fresh mortar and plaster that had been trodden under foot. Satisfied that the entry had been effected here, I went down again, and, with Sergeant Stretcher and Detective Lynx, obtained admis- sion to No. 33. This has been to let, furnished, for a considerable time. Here we found further proofs of the correctness of my theory. The door opened with a latchkey—the bolt being fastened back from the inside-—although the agent assured us it was left double-locked. Up the stairs, which are carpeted, I found a bit of gili, moulding broken from a picture- frame, and the dust on the bannisters had been brushed off here and there." The Coroner: "Did you search all the rooms ?" Witness: "Every one. I am relating all that has, or seems to have, any bearing on the case. In the attic corresponding to the one next door there was a cane-bottomed chair, a round, wooden washstand, an iron bedstead—all covered with thick black dust in places dis- turbed. and brushed off so recently that none had fallen to cover the traces. In the grate were the ashes of a, fire and some sticks and bits of coal in the little fender. There were also footprints in the dust on the carpet. These were accurately measured, and together with the room photographed at once. On climbing iuto the loft over the ceiling all possible doubt was done away with. The bricks were more carelessly re-placed on this side and easily re- movable by hand. In one corner was the crow- bar that had been used to loosen them, and a strong, rough pocket-knife, with 'J. B.' on its white handle. That was all we found, except this sheet of paper (produced), containing the words, 'Thou art the murderer,' which we found on the floor in the sitting-room" "Can the writing be traced?" "I should say not. It is probably a hoax, and is written in a false hand. Still, it may be a clue." "Do you suppose that the murder was com- mitted where the corpse was found?" Witness: Yes, decidedly! Everything points to that. There was no sign of a struggle anywhere. It's my opinion that the deceased was first drugged, and then taken through the empty house and let down by the rope into the bedroom. There are creases under the arms of the coat such as a rope would cause, and white marks elsewhere made by the plaster when he was dragged through the w-tll." "Do you think the murderer accomplished that feat alone?" "Oh no! He must have had an accomplice or accomplices. I should say probably three men were concerned in it." Mr. Fred. Foster being' re-called, By the Coroner (showing the paper found in Ward's room) "Do you recognise this writ- ing?"—"I do not." "Is it like the handwriting of your friend?" —"Certainly not—not in the least." "In what respect does it differ from it?"—In every respect. It is no more like his writing than it is like mine." "Then you have no idea where it came from?" —"I have not, most assuredly." This gentleman's fstatements being taken down, and the statements of Police-inspector Davis having been verified by per- sonal inspection of the, scene of the murder and microscopic examinations of the coat worn by the deceased, the Coroner summed up in an able speech, dwelling upon the satisfactory manner in which Mr. Foster had acquitted himself of a painful and trying duty, and the jury retired. In about a "quarter of an hour they returned, and the foreman handed in the verdict, which was one of 117ilful murder against the lodger Johnson, alias Ward, and some person or persons un- known." It was a relief to finish the last line, and know that I had read the worst. That I was the murderer I was, alas! only too well aware, but the sickening array of detail confused and stunned me, and carried me to a lower depth of despair. I was struck by the absurdity of the efforts of the police to invest with a halo of sensation and mysterywhat was so simple and self-evident, but I doubt, if realised, the conclusiveness of the proofs against me till afterwards, when this chapter of my life had resolved itself into the nightmare of the past. To this day it is one I shrink from looking back upon. Let me draw it to a conclusion as quickly as I may. On another page was a leader devoted to the subject, smartly written, disposing of the evi- dence in a masterly manner, and directing it- work of supererogation!—with crushing effect against me. The substance I give below. For the sake of what I went through at the time I read his article, the writer will, perhaps, for- give me if I mar what I try to condense. Were we about to compile a, list of the most daring criminals of modern times we should certainly give a high place of honour to the author of the George-street murder. "Every age has its Brindilliers, its Kelly, and its Peace, but this is the first time that the victim of a homicidal mania has been con- veyed to the abode of the murderer and done to death in an attic at the top of a crowded house, where the slightest opposition must have roused every person sleeping under that roof. And, what is even more surprising is that the victim in the present instance is not a defenceless woman or child, not an unsuspecting girl lured to her death by the wiles of the tempter, but an athletic man in the prime of life, drugged, conveyed through the streets to an empty house, thrust ,by main force through a trap-door in- the ceiling and a hole in the partition wall, and let down at infinite trouble aiici risk into a bedroom immediately above the sleeping apart- ments of other lodgers. The question that. is heard on every hand may well be, Why all this superfluous trouble and danger, when the murder could have been! compassed with greater expedition and safety in the open street, or concealed for a- longer period in the empty house through which the victim was takn? No more bitter satire on our boasted civilization could be written; and we say again, it is an instance of cold-blooded daring and ferocity for which the annals of crime in this country happily furnish no parallel. "Consider it as we may, however, this tragedy in high life is a curious answer to those who urge that the oid passions of love and jealousy are dying out in this practical, money-making age, and it will, we doubt not, be used in argu- ment by that section of the community which claims that to the spread of education is directly attributable a. proportionate increase in the number and degree of certain crimes." "For here we have again two rivals, both gentlemen of education, and, if we may believe the evidence at the inquest, refinement, as ready to fight for women's smiles as any plumed gallant in Prince Charlie's time, or whiskered chevalier of La Belle France, in 'the good old days of old.' One was a worthy English squire, Captain of the Trentshire Yeomanry Cavalry, and an officer and gentleman much respected and esteemed; the other a son of a British colonel who deserved well of his country in India and the Crimea—had been engaged In those commercial and mercantile pursuits which are sometimes held to deaden the feelings and harden the heart. That they did not render him proof against iusceptibility to the tender passion is evident. The fatal and cowardly act of which he i3 declared guilty attest T.ts volcanic nature. The cedar cabinet "encrusted with Moorish filigree," the fan of mother-of- pearl damaskeened in gold, and the diamond necklet, evidently intended as so many gages d'amour, may, as love trinkets go, be fairly con- f,idered as proof of its sincerity. But upon this subject, or the question of his guilt, it is not our intention to enter. What would be more to the present purpose would be to bring about his apprehension, and that of his accom- plices. And we must own that, beyond the fact that the crowbar and knife found would seem to point to one of the house-breaking fraternity as one of the latter, we are no nearer to-the satisfaction of seeing visited on the guilty person the penalty of his crime than when we announced, its discovery a week ago." "Still, from more slender threads than those in the hands of the police has the rope been spun which has swung murderers from the gallows. "The assassin has, as yet, indeed, baffled. IS pursuers, and ?s still at large to menace the live of the law-abiding citizens. We state the faC^ with regret. Impunity encourages outrage, crime follows crime. But let him beware. -1 detectives of Scotland Yard are on his t-rao » and when he least expects it he will betray hi self into their hands. ed "For, strange as it may appear, the e. cfiian man has fewer chances of evading justice t one who is entirely illiterate. In the la there is no accounting for individual idi°s>^ crasy his very blunders may be his safegua^. The former proceeds by data and ratiocma^^ that may be determined and anticipated. being so, we look forward with every con'* „ qj, to chronicling at no distant period the ,ar. and pending trial of the most celebrated crinu of our times." • (To be continued. Commenced June 2, loJ



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