LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VIII, Issue 834, 24 February 1877, Page 3

LITERATURE.

LEFT IN CHARGE,

(Concluded .) ‘ We can have a look at it now then,’ I said, rising as I spoke, and leading the way towards the adjoining room, followed closely by my visitor. The photograph, which was hanging on the wall with several others, was a large and moat life like representation ot Arthur ; it was absolutely impossible for any one who had once seen him to mistake it; nevertheless, to my unutterable but silent surprise, Mr Cordon directed his gaxe towards another photograph. Whether his quick instinct or my involuntary corrcc-ti-.n of the mistake by an indicating motion of my baud towards the real picture helped him towards a rapid rectification of his error, I could nut Loll. The little incident passed by ; the photograph was duly admired and pronounced a most capital likeness ; and wc passed cm to other topics. But an impres-

sion was made upon my mind —an impression I could neither resist nor account for, nor dismiss, in fact could hardly have shaped into words ; but nevertheless it was there—an intangible something—a doubt, nay almost a dread, of my visitor; for I have owned I am a nervous man, and for one of that temperament to begin to conjure up fancies is certainly anything but conducive to guide de occur. I was, in truth, reduced to a condition of nervousness which it re quired all my efforts to conceal. I would not press Mr Gordon to stay ; I did not feel so cordial to him—that was the truth ; and I was growing more and more uncomfortable at what ray wife would think of my having done so at all. How glad 1 would bo to see them all back again. The time had never dragged so wearily as on the third day of Mr Gordon’s visit. I don’t think I have mentioned that it was in the mouth of October that all these things happened ; the days were getting shorter and shorter, and on this particular one darkness had come on more than usually fast; it was raining too ;so we—my guest and I—sat in the library carrying on a rather vapid conversation. At last the servant appeared, bringing in the moderator lamp, which, with its shade, she placed about the centre of the table by which Mr Gordon was sitting. His hand was lying listlessly upon it, and for the first time I observed the peculiar size of it, and the long lithe fingers—-very bony and thin, except at the tips and joints, which were of extraordinary proportions. A powerful hand—a clasping, clutching looking hand -not a pleasant one to encounter in anger. I could fancy—here I again indulged in a terrifying reverie; but 1 checked myself; 1 called myself a fool. I, a man come to my time of life, giving way to such absurdities ; it was degrading! I banished them as well as I could ; but the light from the lamp fell so directly upon that hand, that I was glad when the announcement of dinner caused a thorough interruption to my musings. We did not sit up so late that evening - neither seemed disposed to do so ; and at about half-past ten I found myself safely shut up in my bedroom, preparing for rest. What prompted me, Ido not know—it certainly was not according to my usual custom—but it occurred to me to take out and examine my revolver. There it was lying snugly in its case ; but - did my eyes deceive me, or was I dreaming ?—the! cartridges were gone ! —the pistol was empty. I stood transfixed for a few seconds ; a cold thrill ran down my backbone. I could not doubt who had done it ; and as is the case with a drowning man, before whose eyes, they say, in the short space of time during which semi-consciousness remains, a lifetime of events flashes by, so did a thousand suspicious circumstances connected with my brother’s friend flit through my brain. I had been deceived; he was without doubt what, almost unconfcssed to myself, I had been thinking he was all that day—an imposter and scoundrel, who meant not only to rob my house, but to murder me, if I attempted the faintest resistance. That he was one of the gang going about, [ also suspected ; and if that supposition was correct, doubtless he had more accomplices, who would come to assist him in his depredations. It was not a pleasant position for a man to be in, however brave he might be, and for me it was simply terrific. It would bo madness to go to his room and confront him ; such a course would only precipitate matters ; 1 must act promptly ; whatever I resolved to do must be done, and done quickly. It was a stormy and tempestuous night; the rain was beating upon the windows in perfect torrents, and the wind was high. That was in my favor ; for I resolved, after a short period of deliberation, to lose not a moment in leaving the house, and slipping round to the stables, to saddle my horse, and gallop as hard as I could to Lowton for assistance. I had not undressed, so no time was lost in making my exit from my bedroom, the door of which 1. locked, and also closed and locked the dressing mom door which led into the bedroom, leaving the door to it, which opened on to the land iug, unlocked, so that if my suspicions were correct —and I doubted less and less that they wore so—the seizure of the plate would suffice to keep intruders occupied, and prevent them from so soon discovering my absence. At last I opened the window, which was not very far from the ground, and dropping gently down, cautiously crept round to the back yard. 1 feared Eover might betray me ; but as I got close to his kennel I was astonished to hear no movement. ‘ Hover! ’ I said softly, ‘ good dog! Hover, old fellow! ’ But no answering sound greeted me ; all was silent, except the steady splashing of the rain and the howling wind.

‘ Hover ! ’ I repeated, ‘ Hover ! ’ bending down and thrusting my hand into the kenluel, in my anxiety for my favourite almost forgetting my possible danger. I felt tue familiar head and rough coat ; but it was a lifeless body that lay so motionless under my anxious touch. Hover was dead ! A cold dew broke out all over me. I was speechless with rage, grief, and indignation. But there was no time to indulge in such feelings ; assurance had now been made doubly sure; the same hand that had drawn ray cartridges had poisoned my dog, ami would as ruthlessly take my life away, if deemed expedient. To gain the stables and to slip the saddle on my horse was the work of a few moments only; and favoured by the noise of the raging elements, I led him out with the certainty that no one in the house could hear what was going on.

Quietly we passed through the gate ; and I glanced up towards the direction of my guest’s chamber, from which I could see a bright light proceeding. That was satisfactory ; he had not begun operations yet. Then I mounted, and choosing a back way, by which some distance was saved, and by which 3' fancied \ ran less risk of meeting any possible confederates, £ set off at a hard gallop for Lowton. It was a four-mile ride to the police sta tiou, but i got over it in something less than fifteen minutes. It did not take long to explain ray errand, which I did by simply stating that 1 had suspicions something was meditated, from the combined facts of Hover’s death and the drawn cartridges. I mentioned Mr Gordon’s being with me, but was careful not to commit myself to any actual implication with him. It did not require any persuasion to get a couple of stalwart constables to accompany me back—they were so anxious to succeed in capturing the thieves that not a chance was thrown away. It was early still, com-

paratively—we might get back considerably before twelve ; and the inspector, who evident!/ thoroughly grasped the position, proposed that we should regain the house by my window, and await the course of events from my bed mom. Accordingly, leaving my horse at Lowton, the two myself, and a third constable driving, started off after a short delay, in a small car which we left by itself, tying the pony to a gateway, about a quarter of a mile before reaching my house. Having first taken a holder from the stable, we groped our way to the front of the house, and as we got there, I touched one of my companions lightly on the arm, and in a whisper directed his attention to the diningroom window. Through the clinks of the shutters we could plainly see a light was burning. Losing not another instant, I clambered up to my halfopen window, followed quickly by the policemen, and there we stood, hardly breathing, to listen. Everything was just as I had left it. They had not missed me yet; probably the dressing-room had not been visited, but that would follow immediately, for hardly bad we been live minutes in the house before a noise, slight in itself, but still sharp and unmistakable, warned us that some one was ascending the staircase—stealthy footsteps, voices muffled, but distinctly voices and presently the diningroom door was softly opened, and we could distinguish a word here and there of a whispered consultation. Then came a slight metallic sound, and a crack as if something had given way, a jingle of silver—probably my grandmother’s tea-pot, our most precious heirloom—and then the hurried crinkling of paper.

f'till the inspector moved not. I myself was becoming quite rigid with nervous excitement, I had fancied the police would have rushed in upon them at once ; but no ; there he stood grasping his baton, immovable, as I could see by the expiring light of the fire, which I had fortunately chanced to replenish just before my discovery of the drawn cartridges. What was he waiting for ? It was soon explained to me ; they had not all come upstairs, More footsteps, more voices, and then a hand was laid upon the handle of my bedroom room, with no great regard to the continuance of my supposed slumbers.

Locked ! and an oath, not necessary to record, here followed. Then came the sound as of something vainly inserted in the keyhole, and then—that failing-there was a united crash against what really was a fragile doorway, and the next instant what seemed to me a crowd of ruffians came trooping in. There really were three men quite enough to have robbed and murdered me many times over, but not too many to be trapped and caught in the neatest and simplest manner by the triumphant constables, who, without a second’s hesitation, surrounded the astounded burglars before they had time to realise the situation ; foremost amongst them I recognised my brother’s friend, Thomas Gordon, my agreeable visitor ! Hcsistance was useless : they had left their arms behind them ; more than one murder-ous-looking little weapon being afterwards found in the dining-room which they had so recently quitted. Besides which, my poor little strategy—devised out of very fear—had so far succeeded. I had purposely every night left out a couple of bottles of heavily drugged wine, which the unwelcome visitors had unsuspectingly disposed of, and which in a short time began to tell visibly upon their faculties ; so they were easily secured, to the delight of the neighborhood, and to the infinite credit and renown of myself, for I was supposed to have signalised myself most brilliantly, and was immensely congratulated upon my midnight ride to Lowton, which bade fair to become as famous as Dick Turpin’s memorable exploit. No one was more surprised at those praises than I was myself; for the fact remained, and does remain to this day, that I am a very nervous man, and what I did was done out of sheer desperation and terror ; and if I had guessed what lay before me when my family went to Loudon, I should have bidden them final farewell, for I never could have fancied surviving such a night. Sir Gifford Hansford’s butler identified the ci-devant Tom Gordon, alias Joe Billings, as his assailant; and the other two, also well known characters, were also conivcted. They were sentenced to ten years’ peual servitude, and I devoutly liope without the chance of a ticket-of leave, for without doubt they would remember and repay with interest my share in their capture. One member of my establishment was missing on the following morning after the seizure, and that was Mary the parlor maid, our new servant, through whose agency, doubtless, Mr Gordon had carried his personation of my brother’s friend into execu - tion.