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LOVE ON A CANAL, Or, NONE,…

WHY SHE WORE A SHAWL. ...

IMPROVING THE TURF OF THE…

EXPERIENCES OF AI DETECTIVE.

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EXPERIENCES OF A DETECTIVE. By James McGovan. No. 35.-A WONDERFUL DREAM. If I were asked if I believed in dreams I should say "No if I were asked if I bad no faith in extraordinary dreams I should say—"I don't know." As a rule women believe in them most religiously—men are more sceptical. I am a man, pretty well hardened by rubbing shoulders with roguery, and a detective as well; so it will be seen that with me but a narrow margin is left for faith. Here is a case, however, that puzzled me. It was certainly a most extraordinary affair, con- taining some strange coincidences; and when the reader is made acquainted with the facts he will not wonder at my confusion, seeing that there were apparently two dreams, and the puzzle was which to believe. I will attempt no explanation, but simply give it as I find it in my notes. One clear, dry morning towards the end of January, I was standing at the head of the Old Fisbmarket Close, chatting gaily with some bro- ther officers-as we often do when not immediately required within—when a pale-faced young man, something like a student in appearance, tugged me by the arm and drew me aside. You are I)t,-tective M'Govan ? he said in a nervous, fearful tone. "TOO ARE DBTKCTIVK M'GOVAN?" "I am." I never saw you before to my knowledge," he continued impressively, yet I knew you the mo- ment I caught sight of you." Then you have the advantage of me," I an- swered with a smile." I never saw you before, and I don't know you now. You seem frightened— what's the matter ? "Oh, I've bad a fearful dream Indeed. What had you for supper ? I wish I could smile at it, and think nothing would come of it," and he shivered all over as he spoke. Was it three times repeated, in the good old fashion?" I continued lightly. "No. It came only once, but so vividly and clearly that when I woke I could scarcely believe that it bad not really happened." I thought that perhaps he had not got over the New Year festivities, but merely said—" Well, let's hear the dream." I am a divinity student," he began, and I lodge at Mrs Bain's, No.—, Park-street. Last night or this morning I dreamt that I was awakened by my landlady opening my room door, and saying at the same time to someone without, 'What name shall I say, sir?' Then I heard the answer distinctly, and in the very tones in which you have now addressed me—'Detective M Govan. I thought I started up, and was beginning to dress hastily, when you entered and motioned to Mrs Bain to retire. There was snow on your hat, overcoat, and boots, and while you were shaking it off, I was trying in vain to get my tongue to move in the utterance of some inquiry as to your business. A strange sinking at the heart had seized me. I felt that I was about to be arrested, and was anxious to know the nature of the accusation. At last I gasped out, What is it ?' You looked at me gravely in the face for a moment, and then said—' Murder, they say." I felt everything swimming under my feet, and then I heard you say, Don't fret about i t-if you are iuuocent it will soon come out.' I finished dressing, and left the house with you. When I got to the bottom of the stair, 1 saw that the ground was covered to the depth of four or five inches, and in descending the uncleared steps outside the stair my foot slipped a little, and I heard you say, Take care of your feet.' And then I woke." Rather a lame conclusion to such a wonderful dream," I coxnmented. "It's a pity you didn't dream again and finish it." "I am aware that it must seem a trifling affair to you," he earnestly replied, taking no notice of my sneer, but, believe me, it made such an im- pression on me that I could not rest till I came here to tell you of it. I am not superstitious I scarcely ever dream, and I never take spirits. I never experienced anything like it before." I advised him to go home, take a little cooling medicine, not sit up late studying, and try to think no more about it. He thanked me for the interest I had shown, and gave me his card, from which I found that his name was Mr Arthur Spence." Then we parted, and I rejoined my companions, and thought no more of the matter. But more came of it. A few days after I was aroused up in the middle of the night by one of the county police, who was standing in the middle of my room covered with fallen snow, and breathlessly direct- ing my attention to a note which the landlady was placing in my hand. I was wide awake, and had recognised the lieutenant's band in a moment. The scribble ran thus:— A murder on the Duddingaton-road. Please go with bearer at once and investigate. Willsend a cab after him to your lodging." I dressed hastily, and had scarcely finished when a cab rattled up the stair foot. We were soon in it, and flying southwards, and while doing so I elicited from my companion the following par- ticulars Mr Josiah Spence, bachelor, lived alone in his cottage, a retired house on the road between Duddingston and Portobello. By alone I mean without friend or relative near him. One domestic, a housekeeper, lived in the house with him, and this lady, with a man who occasionally came to trim the garden and a boy who ran errands, comprised bis whole establishment. On the previous night—for it was now long past midnight—the housekeeper, who had obtained leave of absence for a day to visit her friends, upon returning about eeven o'clock, and ringing re- peatedly at the bell, was surprised at eliciting no response. She moved further along the road to a spot from whence she could obtain a glimpse of Mr Spence's study window, but it. like every ather in the house, was enveloped in darkness. At last she got through the hedge and over the low garden paling, and made for the back door. At this a fresh surpise awaited her. It was send- ing wide open. Knowing her master's careful habits and his partiality for locking doors, she at once suspected that something was wrong. Still, unwilling to raise a false alarm, she groped her way in as far as the kitchen, and managed to strike a light. The fire was out, but otherwise nothing unusual met hec eye. Determined to satisfy herself she lit a candle, and walked straight to the study door. No one answered her knock, and she opened the door and looked in. Then she screamed right out, and got out of the house she knew not how. To the station-house at Jock's Lodge was not a great run, but when she did get there it was some time before they could make sense of her words. At last they made out that she had found her master, sitting in his chair dead, she thought, with » frightful wound, in his bead, and a bloody wood-chopper at his feet. The station master at once proceeded to the scene of the murder, leaving the balf-de- mented housekeeper under the care of his wife, who bad orders to send along after him the first policeman that dropped in. Arnved at the cot- tage, he had merely ascertained that the unfortu- nate gentleman was really dead, and then locked the doors of all the rooms, and ensconced himself in the kitchen to await the arrival of another man. As soon as the desired messenger did come be was despatched to the head office at Edinburgh, and the result of his mission is already known to the reader. That was all I could get out of the man as we rattled along through the driving snow, but I fait sora fchak,tiere was soma uncommon feature about the case, or I would never have been sent for. Nor was I wrong. We got to the cottage, and found the station-master waiting for us at the open front. I went with him straight to the open front. I went with him straight to the study, and began to look about me. The mur- dered man lay dropping forward on the table, just as he had been found. He appeared to have been killed from behind, and one terrific swoop of the wood-chopper had done the deed. A reading I stand and book on the table before him appeared but little disturbed, but on an open writing-desk, close to his left arm, I could see distinct traces of bloody fingers-both on the desk itself and the papers scattered about. And now comes the strange part of the business, and what puzzled me so much. I had ascertained that no robbery bad been committed by finding both money and notes to a considerable amount lying in the desk undis. turbed, and was gathering up the scattered papers when my attention was directed to a sheet of writing-paper lying near the fireplace, crushed into a ball and much smeared with blood, as if it had been used to wipe the murderer's hands after the deed was committed. I picked it up, and finding some writing on it, was spreading it out on the table, when the station-master at once identified the handwriting as that of the mur- dered man. There was no signature; indeed, it will be seen that the paper, properly, had no finish. It now lies before me, with the crimson stains faded into brown, and I proceed to copy it I write this in great distress. I do not wish to be thought childish or superstitious therefore I have mentioned the matter which now gives me so much concern to no one. For three nights in succession I have had a horrible dream. I dreamt that I saw myself sitting alone in my room engaged in reading. The door opened softly, but I- was too deeply interested in the woik before Ifte to notice it or look round. Then I distinctly saw my nephew, Arthur Spence, enter the room with a wood chopper in his right hand. Still, though I groaned and struggled in my sleep, the figure of myself in the dream did not move. Then I saw Arthur Spence glide forward, raise the wood-chopper, aud strike me a fearful blow on the head. I saw myself drop forward on to the table, with blood gushing from the wound aud staining the table-cloth, and then I woke, trembling all over, and with the perspira- tion standing thick on my brow. For three nights this dream has been regularly repeated. I cannot say what troubles ma most—the thought of myselt being the victim, or the extremely improbable idea of Arthur Spence being the murderer but I write this in case- There was no more. It did not end there, I was certain but the bottom right-hand corner of the sheet had been torn away. I read it again, Arthur Spence "—surely I had heard that name before ? A moment's thought, and I had re-called the young man in High street with his wonderful dream. Here was another dream-wonderful also— indeed, just a trifle too wonderful to be swallowed at a moment's notice, I don't know how it was, but I really and truly can say that I suspected that paper from the first. Perhaps it was the absurdity of the idea that a murderer should lift up his own condemnation in writing, wipe his fingers with it, crush it lW, and leave it behind him. It was certainly possible, in the haste of guilt, but far from probable. THE MUBDEBED MAN DROPPED FOKWASD ON TABLE." Still, it left me no alternative. My first business was to make sure that it was Mr Spence's hand- writing. I locked everything up again-left a man in charge-drove to the Jock's Lodge Station- house, and began to question the housek-jepar who was roused up for tho purpose. In hunting, I believe it sometimes happens that after a hare is started another crosse.s its track, and gets hunted and caught in its stead; and though, in the present case, my inquiries were bent towards Mr Arthur Kpeace, I was not with- out hope that some other facts would start into life which would place me on the track of the real criminal.. After talking her into some degree of calmness, I asked— "Would you kno* the handwriting of your master so as to be able to swear to it ?" có Oh, yes. I could not be deceived in that respect. His hand was peculiar-round, firm, and Clumsy. He said he had acquired it by prac- tising Arabic and Sanscrit. I could swear to it anywhere. 11 I folded dow the paper I bad found »o as to expose the first tew lines. "Is that like it2" That is it." "You are perfectly Sure ?" Perfectly." I had thought as much—expaci,(J(j as oiugli loy- 80lf. It was only a faint hope I had had that it might be a forgery fpr x lud olre.ldy cominired the wntmgwith that on his books and papar-and that hope was gone. Do you know if your master bad any enemies? Did he quarrel with anyone lately?" Yes ne had a quarrei some time ago with his nephew, Arthur. I heard them at it for nearly two hours, and1 when Arther left I heard his uncle say lie would disinherit him. He repeated the same to me after, saying that the young man had fallen into bad company, and was Eqnanderinff too much money, But I don't believe he did it, for he loved Arthur better than if be bad been his II own son." Strange how everything was tendint; to crimi- nate that young man. My ideas ware beginning to waver and get confuiled. But Bl)me würds from the housekeeper arousad me, and ri veLtOO my attention. "As for enemies, I don t believe he ever had any-unless his brother Stephen could be called one, They used to be bitter foes, but I rather think they made it up some time ago." What makes you think so ?" Because they have corresponded lately." Indeed, When ? Tell me all about that." « Stephen has been a bad lot all his days He robbed my master years ago, and was imprisoned for it and, so far as I k„ow, tl)ey UaVQ 01)ly spoken since." Only once very good. Whon was that?- "Oh, more than a month ag:) Stephen Clune to the cottage and asked to see master. I was astonished to see him, and hardly knew him, he was so shabby and mieerable-looking. After some bother he did get to see tnastej; but the interview didn't last long nor do mucll g00(J) for he leffc shortly after cursing like a troopsr. I don't know what they were talking about, but master said to ma after, when talking about the visit, that he wasn't going to rob his nephew to feed a needy scoundrel. Good—oh, good Was not this a crossing of the scent ? My hand shook so that I could hardly scribble down the leading points of her informa- tion. Looking at the notes now, 1 can hardly decipher them. But you 8:1 id they had corresponded b-ttely ? Yes about a week ago a letter came, which I afterwards learned was from him. My master read it whila at hiS breakfast, and said » Pooh pooh!' two or three times iu the middle of it' When he had fiuished, he said, 4 Well, my brother Stephen is a sillier fool tnan I took him forand then he told me not to let the boy go away, as he bad a paper to copy and send away by post." You mean that the boy was to take it to the post-omce ? Well, did he send it away? U Yes, a letter." Did you notice the address ? Yes I was a little curious about it, for when I saw my master grunting and smiling over the letter I was afraid Ins brother was sneaking in With hi in again. The letter was addressed jts Stephen Spence, No. —, Cannon-gate, ISdin. burgh. Engwrly I pulled out the blood-stained paper. My countenance fell at once as I examined it, and my heart sank along with it. There were creases innumerable, but not a trace of tho straight folds necessary to such a paper passing through the post. As a last hope, I asked- Do you remember if the envelope n&s a large one ?" No larger than u ual just an ordinary envelope. Master always used the same size I you wijl fiod low of tkia in bis deels." Baffled again, Never miud I was determined I to get to the bottom of it. What is this Stephen Spence like ?" He's a ta^i man, with a red nose, and a bleary look about the eyes, and half-ministerial looking in dress," "Ah—hum—just so. Now, Mrs Taylor, there is only one thing more I wish to ask. Do you know if your master kept anything in the shape of a diary or journal in which he recorded the trans- actions of the day ?" Yes, of course he did you'll find it in his desk. He used to put down the most trifling things in it. I've peeped into it often when ha was out, and I was sorting the room." "You must be mistaken; I looked the whole desk through, but could find no such a thing." "Oh, but it is there, and nowhere else. It's prettily bound in dark morocco, with Diary' in large gilt letters in front." She was positive about it, and I was so certain that the desk, when I examined it, contained no such article, so I could come to hut one conclusion. In rummaging the desk, the criminal had, for some reason, appropriated the diary. I took a note of the circumstance, secretly wondering what this diary, if not yet destroyed, would reveal as to tho affair of the letter and answer, about a week ago." If I could lay my hands on anybody with this diary in their possession, I reasoned, not only would the murderer be In my grasp, but perhaps his own condemnation as well. The conclusion was rash—frightfully nsh-as will be seen pre- sently, and 111 acting upon it chance or good fortune alone kept mei from tripping; still, though I might have blundered awfully, it was decreed otherwise. Just. one thing more," I said, rising to go. Where did you generally keep that wood- chopper ? I suppose it belongs to the house ? Yes, it was always kept just within tho door of the wood-shed, in the yard behind. But it's a strange thing that the wood chopper went a missing four days ago. Master thought someone had got over the palings at the back and stolen it, and when he ordered a new one he had a padlock put on the door of the shed." "Do you think it possioie that this nephew this Arthur Spence-could have borne your master any malice?" She laughed outright. "Malice? The thing is impossible. Arthur has no more malice in him than the child unborn. He may be simple and generous, and easily led away, but he has no worse fault." Very -)od. I am much obliged to you, and will not trespass further on your repose. I may perhaps have occasion to see you to-morrow neaiiwiiile I will ivisii yovi good-iii,, I -[it I drove up to Edinburgh at once, and, as it Was now near daybreak, I made hold to go to the lieutenant's private residence, and report progress. His decision was short, and quickly given. "Goandarrpst Arthur Spence, and then see after the other whom you suspect." I was not surprised at the order. Some of my chums at the office had already given me their opinion that this would be the result. But I was dissatisfied, and would much rather have taken a different course of action. However, there was nothing else for it. I trudged off through the snow—which snow lay about four inches deep on the ground, and was still falling lightly—and got to No. —, lark- street. I found Mrs Bain's on the second landing, asked to see Mr Arthur Spence, and was at once conducted along a dark Lobby. What name shall I say, sir?" said the woman, just as she op nod the door, and pausing with her hand on'the latch. "Detective M'Govan," I said, rather gruffly, for I was thinking of something else, and did not like being stopped and interrupted.. She entered the room, but I followed c.ose at her heels, aijd caught sight of niy man dressing hastily in front of a concealed bed., The moment our eyes uAt he stageered against the bed, and turned deadly white. I motioned the woman from the room, coolly knocking the snow from my hat ic; I did so, and the moment she was gone turned on the young man. He appeared to be struggling for utterance, ana at last got out with a gasp- "What is it?" I thought of the opinion of my chums, and that of the lieutenant as well, and said- Murder, they say." I thought he was going to faint, so I added cl1>3enly- Don't fret about it. if you are innocent it will soon come out." I said no more. He moved about as if lie was in a dieatn, with a vacant look about his eyes that made me feel uncomfortable. But he was soon ready, and we iett the house together. Just as we reached tho pavement his foot flipped on the snow, and I cried out wiirriiigly- "Takecareofyourfeet." The moment the words escaped my lips I stag- gered back with a sharp cry— *«Good God!" I must have looked pale, for he appeared to wake up at once, and stretched out his hands with great concern, as if to save me from falling. Are you ill, sir ?" "No. Do you remember tlie. IreaT),, you told me about the other day in tho H'gh-street ?" Remember it ?—it has not been off my mmd ever f-ince." Well, here I find niave unconsciously aioea in its literal fulfilment. The thought only flashed upon me now." -1 "I knew something would come of it," he said gravely. "Will you tell me what has happened, wily I itii arre.ited?" "Thou y°u do not ,know? You have not heard ?" s, I live heard nothing. Where were you the night before het?" He started, looked confused, and remained Spaak, man a good deal depends on it. Wore you nt home ?" "No." Out ,f towil "No." "What part of it? "The New Town." The whole night?" '*Tli, wli,Ie nigl)t, ati,i AFI Ivell. "Good. Then you CHl find witnesses to prove it, sind so establish an alibi? He wrung his hands in an agony of despair. I could not—I could not! it woulu ru11* my reputation-damn my prospects for life 11 Whew, you are in bad company then "Ask me nothing. Though it were to save my life I could not answer." Your stubbornness is almost suicidal; but if you will not speak, I must see if your companiona win." Oh, sir, in mercy let the matter rest. I am willing to suffer anything than disgrace." Do you know what the penalty of murder is? —it is hanging." "But I m innocent." Perhaps. You must prove that. The thought appeared to pull him up, but still he wavered. What would life be to me with a blasted repu- tation ?" I cannot ssy. You should have thought of that when you went out the lIight before last. His agitation became fearful. 3 But you have not told me who is murdered, lie, list. I was near letting it out, but fearing the effects of the sudden announcement in his present agitated state I stopped just in time.. You will know soon enough. Follow mo to the office. Perhaps a little relfection in the cool retirement of a cell niiy bring you to reason." A look of abject resignation crossed his face, and he said— Will you grant me one request ? Lot ma walk before you about a dozen yards; I will not run away.. I had not the slightest fear of him, and con- sented at once. And so we progressed till we reached the end or Bristol-place then came an interruption.^ A seedy-looking scamp—known to us as The Skylark," pome of whoilc tricks I may 1wticein the papur-had crossed the street and suddenly accosted him. Aly pi-isorer stopped, and appeared to listen reluctantly to ti ie beggar at his side. Then I saw something offered to him—something like a book wrapped_m pa par —at which he stared vacantly, and then i stepped suddenly between them and snatched it from his hand. What is this 7" I sharply demanded. A SEEDY-LOOKING SCAMP." -I if Only a book which he was asking me to keep for him," answered the young simpleton, blushing a little. He is a relation of mine—an uncle." I toreoff the paper,and conld have shouted with joy as I aw the gilt letters of the words "DIAUY" shining in the light. In a moment I had seized the astonished Sky? lark by the collar and whistled sharply to a policeman on the other side. Stephen Spence, in tho name of the law I arrest yon for the murder of your brother If ha had been shot through the heart his fape could not have exhibited a more instantaneous change. Like a flash it became—red nose and all —whiter than the ground. He appeared perfectly stupefied, till the cold steel handcuff from my pocket fastened his wrist securely to that of the policeinau. Then be found hia tougus. "What means this audacious outrage?'' he cried, crying to simulate virtuous indignation, and tailing miserably. "It was a good plot—ingenious, clever—but it's all thrown away," I returned. You thought to kill two birds with one stone—revenge on your brother and nephew in one sweep—but it's no go. Let's see what the Diary' says, if none has been torn out." I opened In.t\ book, in spite of the fast-gathering I crowd, and, I.ure enough, tlic lea-veg for more than a week pn.44 were gone Torn out, too-I could see the remaining shreds still sticking into the binding. "You infernal double-dyed scoundrel I burst forth. You tore out your own condemnation, forth. You tore out your own condemnation, and then tried to palm the book on this poor lad to be another proof of your guilt, along with the II 'horrible ire.!vln' %vllicll you concocted, and got your brother to copy." It was almost a random thrust, but it struck home—denper than I had anticipated. Heaven have mercy on me," he groaned, staggering aimlessly about. I-I am ill-take me away." We got him into and away to the office, but he got rapidly worse; and before night it was commoniy believed amongst us that the "Sky- lark" would fly no more. Brain fever set in, and soon shook the shattered remains of life out of him. But before his death, which happened about a week after, lie had a few lucid moments and from hi" confession we got the missing links in his diabolical plot. Chagrined at his own miserable state, and his brother's wealth and'comfortable condition, in a moment of bravado and intoxication he had gone down to the cottage and demanded money, e alleging—perhaps truly—that he was starving. The demand was met by the deceased with a contemptuous refusal, and the statement that all his wealth would go, not to a needy scoundrel, but. to his sister's son, Arthur Spence. The Skylark" left the house furious—mad- (ieuel -and with but one thought racking his brain—how to plan and execute a fearful revenge on both. The ide of the "horrible dream" was soon concocted-the original of the ingenious piiper I had found (iepatci!ed,ql,)ng with a penitent letter, to the deceased, with a request that- he would take a copy of it, retain the said copy in a place of safety, and return him the original." The rest was easy-the wood-chopper was stolen on a dark night, and on the first night of the housekeeper's absence the murder was com- mitted. He easily obtained access to the house by the back door, stole cautiously behind his brother as he sat, and dealt the murderous blow. 1 iis rifling of the desk and discovery of the diary, containing an account of the horrible dream busi- containing an account of the horrible dream busi- ness, and a. copy of the penitent letter which accompanied the request, followed and the idea of transferring the book to the. keeping of Arthur Spence was, as I guessed, an after-plot, to fasten the guilt, if possible, even more securely upon the young man. As to the other dream I will say nothing. I have given the facts the reader can form his own opinion. But though the affitir was in a manner hushed up at the tiine, 1 have often wondered that some romance-maker did not get hold of the details and work them into a story.

v-:-_1" ANECDOTES OF ACTORS.

.--.-.-"'''----::r HER PREPARATION…

Y GOLOFN GYMREIG. -----oIl'----

-----_.__.-BARDDONIAETH.

-"':.--:...:-A RED-SKIN EXPERIENCE.

A BUDGET OF FAMOUS JOKES.

APPEARANCES WERE DECEPTIVE

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A 6AFEGUARD AGAINST INSECTS.

[No title]