LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 401, 24 September 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

BY A 15 (WAY.) The Shadow on the Blind. (From the Melbourne Town and Country.) The may say what they like about the easy life of a policeman, but I’m certain there is not anything so wearing as the continual crawling up and down they are obliged to endure. It is a lazy life to be sure that is its curse absolute —and I am certain that no healthy man would willingly prefer, to any manual labour, the dawdling stroll a bobby is condemned to for nearly half his walking hours. Nothing can make a man so intimately acquainted with locality as night patrol; it is so infinitely wearisome. One gets to know not only the houses* on his beat, but every salient stone in every visible wall. You can tell to a minute when every light shall have disappeared in all the regular homes, and know exactly when the master is on the loose in all the regular ones. You are sorry when the last cab brings home the last theatre-goer, because you know there will be no break in your misery for the next three hours, and glad when the light disappears from the hard worked dressmaker’s window, because you know the night is wearing on, and that you will be relieved before you arc quite worn out. And of course an empty house on your beat is a vacancy you don’t at all approve of. You sec no cabs stopping at that door, and no light in that window. You begin, as _ its weeks of vacancy accumulate, to wonder if it will be occupied when you go on to-morrow nndit, and feel aggravated when it is not; and finally to take a greater interest in that empty house than you do in any one of the occupied ones in your rounds. At least it was so, I got to feel about a certain little place situated in one of the (piiet streets on my beat. It was a pretty cottage, with an ornamental verandah, and about thirty feet deep of a garden in front, and it had on one end of the verandah, in ornamental letters, ‘ Errol Cottage. ’

In the little front garden had for weeks been stuck up on the end of a stick an aggravating white placard, declaring that the cottage was to let furnished, and that all about it could be discovered by application to a neighbouring house agent. I had enough of curiosity to enejuire about it myself during one of my'strolls past the said agent’s door, and I found that the late tenant, a gentleman in a subordinate Government position, had been obliged to go to England on business likely to detain him for a year, and that in the interim Errol Cottage was to be let to any suitable offerer f( v tenancy. However, Errol Cottage had, as 1 have said, been for weeks empty, and when at last 1 saw a light in the front room window, when 1 made my first round, 1 was really pleased. When one has become really curious about any object, animate or inanimate, it is not to be wondered at that they should endeavour by all lawful means to satisfy that curiosity.

So, when 1 had seen all square on my beat, I popped into a convenient little grocer’s shop at a corner nearly opposite Errol Cottage to discover whatpsort of tenants had take i it. But I was baulked in that laudable *> 1 . j et for the woman who attended to the shop a el all the business of the neighbourhood as well, for she was an inveterate gossip, could give me no information whatever. ‘ Whoevcr’s in the house,’ she said as she joined me at the door and looked over at the lighted window ‘ must have come into it since dark. 1 knew the house was took, for when Mr Amory called for the rent he said he’d let Errol Cottage to an old lady, but that all I know about it yet.’ I bade the garrulous female good night, and passed on, but T found myself drawn irresistibly, as it were, to the neighbourhood of the interesting cottage ; and when the hour was getting late, and the streets silent, I paused in my patrol, to make a close and particular examination of that lighted window.

As a self-contained cottage, the place was isolated ; it stood back a hit from the street, and between two rows of two-storied socalled brick ‘ terraces ; ’ so that when L stood almost at the little gate of Errol Cottage, and without a lamp-post within twenty yards of mo, I stood but little chance of being observed by any one in the cottage. The light was in the parlour or sittingroom, as could be seen by the lace curtains shadowed distinctly on the thin white blind; and that the blind was a thin one could easily be decided by noting how distinctly the globe of light from the lamp coaid be scon through it. I stood there ten minutes I dare say, without seeing anything or hearing the faintest sound, and was just about to turn away with an anathema at my own folly when a dark body intervened between me and the lamp, and a distinct shadow was thrown on the blind. It is strange how slight a circumstance will at some times make the strongest impression upon the strongest minds. lam by no means a man easily impressed by trifles, or easily interested in ordinary circumstances, but the woman’s figure that was thrown boldly in shadow on the window of Errol Cottage that night made a strange impression on my memory. Doubtless, after events helped to fix it there, but if I were an artist 1 could outline it this moment without altering one line. The window was a large one, and formed of two panes only of plate glass, so that there were no cross frame bars to interfere with my view of the perfect figure on the blind. It was in profile a woman’s figure, and it was the shadow of a person holding up a small phial in one hand, as if examining its contents between her and the light. The shadow remained about seven or eight seconds at the most, yet I had time to notice its every particular. A beautiful and gracefully outlined form, with a tight fitting and unornameuted dress; a profile perfectly aristocratic in its delicacy of outline, hair braided closely in front, and coiled up high behind, and a hand that held up the phial as perfectly formed as woman’s hand could be. That was what I saw in the blind of Errol Cottage. For a few seconds after the shadow had disappeared, I stood still gazing at the window, but it did not return, and I went on my way ; hut several times during my patrol, 1 found myself opposite that same window, and when I was relieved the light still burned steadily there. I had got home and got a sleep, and was up and at breakfast when I was summoned to the oilice by a fellow policeman—the sergeant wanted to see me immediately. Of course I went at once, and soon found my self standing by the sergeant’s desk. ‘ That note has just come by the post,’ he said, handing me an envelope, ‘ and 1 thought I had better see you before taking any notice of it.’

I looked at the envelope and saw that it bore only the Melbourne post mark, and that it was addressed in a bold masculine hand to the sergeant himself; and then 1 opened it and perused the short contents. ‘ The police will find employment in Errol Cottage, B street, Fitzroy.’ I looked at it in a stupefied sort of way; it seemed so very odd that the name of the house that had so interested me should be staring at me there from the paper. ‘ It’s on your beat isn’t it ? ’ asked the sergeant. ‘ Yes, sir, it’s on my beat.’ ‘ And can you tell me anything about the cottage ? ’ Very little, certainly; but of course I told what I knew—not a word, however, about the shadow ; it seemed too trilling to relate.

‘lt may lie all a hoax, ’ the sergeant went on; ‘ but you had better go down and get the man on duty there to see into it with you. Of course you will report.’ It seemed the oddest thing in the world for me to bo despatched to Errol Cottage on duty, and naturally my mind was full of that woman’s shadow I had seen on the blind, and with wonder if it was she who had summoned the police. Vet what could it mean ? If police help was required, why take such a roundabout way of summoning it as the post, when a call from the door or the next street would have brought a man at once ?

I soon found the man on day duty at street, and having explained to him our sergeant’s orders, he of course accompanied me to Errol Cottage at once. The lirst thing I observed, on reaching the gate, was that the lamp was still burning in that front room. The verandah being darkened by creeping plants, the light was quite obseivable, and 1 thought that was in itself a strange fact at that time of the morning. There was no knocker on the door, so wc made use of our knuckles, and awakened the echos in the passage, which it appeared were the only things likely to be awakened by our summons for admittance. At length 1 tried the handle of the lock, which, without any trouble, turned at once, and gave an entrance.

There was nothing noticeable in the hall, which was at the left side of the cottage, the nearest door being that of the front room, where the light was, and it was at our right hand; it was ajar, and 1 pushed it open and entered, my mate following in my wake.

The room was a pretty little room enough, plainly but tastefully furnished ; it was carpeted, and had a sofa and chairs of darkcoloured damask, and a round table in the centre on which burned the lamp. The lamp itself was an ordinary table one, and was burning dimly for want of trimming, and the oil was low in the receiver. On the table near the lamp were a few scraps of paper, and an ink bottle with a pen in it, while one of the chairs was pushed back a

little from the table, as though it might have been used by some person who had also used the writing materials. ’.V-dl, we looked around there, but did not • use long, for a door opening into a back apartment, stood half open,. and we nai.ni ally went in there to see if we could lind an elucidation of the mystery. I can’t remember yet what we did find without a thrill of horror that rendered me almost speechless at the time. (To he continued.')

Cas Explosion. —The Wellington Tribune gives tlie following account of the gas explosion which took place on Monday morning in the strong room of Messrs Izard and Bell, solicitors, Willis street. At ten o’clock Mr J. Salmon, clerk in the employ, had occasion to go to the safe. On opening the door of the room there was a strong smell of gas. He left the room with the door open, and informed another employee of the escape of gas. It was decided to wait for some time to allow the apartment to be sufficiently clear of the element. In threequarters of an hour Mr Salmon returned, and proceeded to apply a light to the burner, winch was situated close behind the door. He had no sooner raised the light than there was an explosion, which drove him out into the passage, severely burning his face and hands, and completely singeing the hair off his head. He received a severe shock, and it is feared he is injured seriously. The explosion was not loud, and many in the immediate neighborhood at the time were unaware of the occurrence. The strong brick walls of the room have been cracked in several places, in such a way as to admit of no repair, and the strong room will probably have to be pulled down and built again. Strange to say, none of the papers on the slu Ives have been damaged, which is doubtless owing to the main force of the explosion being upwards. A remarkable feature is that the door being open for three-quarters of an hour, the gas remained in such dangerous quantity and density in the room. This is accounted for by the door being the only opening in the room, and as the doorway is small and much lower than the room, the gas collected near the ceiling, and although the door was open for some time, (here was no current of air to disturb the lighter gaseous body above the doorway. The Post remarks It is supposed that tne jet must have become extinguished by a gust of wind when the door was last shut on Saturday, and thus that the gas continued to accumulate until the door next was opened by Mr J. A. Salmon, one of the clerks, who went in with a lighted match, and the explosion instantly took place. So tremendous was the force that the brick walls were driven out and shattered in every direction, while the stout iron stanchions and bolts were bent as if they had been made of thin wire. The adjoining windows of course were broken, and a strong panel door shattered. It is difficult to imagine the completeness of the wreck without seeing it. Fortunately no lives were lost, but we regret to learn that Mr Salmon was so severely burned, cut, and bruised that it will be a mouth at least before he will be able to resume his duties. The whole of Swedenborg’s MSS. are to be reproduced in fac simile by photolithography, in pursuance of a resolution passed by the General Oouvention of the New Church in America.