LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1550, 6 February 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

CNB FATAL NIGHT. By Charles W. Wood, Author oi “ Through Holland.” [From the “ Argosy.] Continued. 11. I can just remember hearing, as in a dream, the prolonged shriek of the whistle as the train entered the long tunnel just beyond Stroud In my half sleep I had a faint knowledge of the hollow rumbling, unearthly sound of the train as it surged through the black space. Then, suddenly, that mysterious sense took possession of me that most of ua experience even in sleep when some one is gazing at us. Have you ever looked at a sleeping child, reader ? I rarely do so but at once a sense of uneasiness seems to take possession of it: it stirs ; its eyelids quiver; the chances are that it wakes up to consciousness. This sense cams back to me as I slept. Gradually the sense of life and motion crept back to my brain. I opened my eyes—to look upon what? A moment before I had been alone. Now, in the middle of this horrible tunnel I found a man seated opposite to me, staring at me with wide-open eyes that suggested madness, pale as a spectre. It was the man I had seen at the Paddington station. I confess, and without much fe*r of being accused of cowardice, that for a moment my heart stood still. The time and the situation were sufficiently startling. In broad daylight it would have been an unpleasant surprise. In the dark night, in the middle of a gloomy mysterious tunnel its effect was heightened a hundred-fold. But I retained my preseq.ee of mind ; and, even in that first moment, felt that I must be cautious. I was possibly in the power of this man, and any sign of fear might be fatal. I did not move ; but, opening my eyes to their utmost width, I stared back at this mysterious traveller, who came and went wi‘h such supernatural power. Then I gradually moved into a more upright position. ‘ Oh, air, have mercy upon me! Do not betray me ? ’ Never shall I forget those few first imploring words, or the agony in the man’s face and eyes as he spoke them, or the pleading look of his nervously clasped hands. At once I felt that I was safe at least from bodily violence. * Who and what are you ?’ 1 asked quietly, looking as severely upon tho man as I could. * A rni-erable wretch,’ he replied, and I thought he world have burst into tears. ‘ The most miserable wretch on earth, I throw myself on your honor and protection, sir,’ ‘My honor and protection!’ I cried indignantly, l As far as I can see it is not a case for honour and protection, but for a magistrate. I shall certainly deliver you up at the next station.’ The fellow fairly broke down. He threw himself on his kn-es before me, and his utterance was broken by sobs. ‘Mr Wellesley,’ he cried—and I started to hear the man address me byname—‘‘if ever you had mercy in your life, have mercy upon me now. As you hope yourself for mercy in the next world, be merciful to me in this ”

I felt myself irresistibly influenced by the man’s manner. I could not altogether pass over his appeal. There was a history behind all this. He was no madman certainly, and as I looked more closely at the face I felt drawn towards it. I motioned to the young man to resume his seat.

* Now,’ I continued, when he had done so, ' tell me who and what you are, and what you have done Tell me the whole truth, and leave me to judge after that as to what I shall do with you. In the first place, how do you come to know my name P ’ ‘ B cause I know you, sir,’ he replied; and he had now a calmer and quieter, though not less distressed, manner. I know you well, though you do hot know me. I have seen you occasionally in Portman Square when you have been there, and I have happened to visit my uncle, Brown, the butler. It is because I know you so well that the idea suddenly seized me to confess all to you and throw myself on your mercy and goodness.’ 1 Let alone my mercy and goodness,’ I replied. * You have no right to make appeal to it. Bather make a speedy end to your story. What is it you have done ? ’ ‘ Stolen your cousin’s diamonds ! ’

I started, and scarcely believed my ears, could it be possible that the culprit, so advertised, so sought for, and sought in vain, was before mo? He continued his story, Waving told the worst, he seemed to recover fluency of speech, and went on to the end with feverish rapidity. ‘ It was I, sir, who stole those diamonds. lam not naturally bad or dishonest. Until that night I had never done anything wrong; never stolen never even told a lie. I gave way to the temptation ; the first great sin of my life, the last if yon will be merciful to me. How did I know about the diamonds? I happen to be a confidential clerk of Burt and Henry, the great diamond merchants. Many a time I have taken diamonds to Mr Wellesley, sold them to him, and received his cheque. More than once I have seen his whole collection. I have wat hed him take the small black box from his safe and compare the stones with those I had just sold him.

‘What folly,’ I thought, as the speaker paused a moment, with an inward groan at my cousin’s imprudence. ‘ I bad taken to Mr Wellesley one morning two or three stones of more than ordinary value, and he brought out his whole collection to malse a comparison. He bade me look into them and note their beauty. I was dazzled by the s’ght, and. I suppose, at the idea of so much being the property of one man. A mnn at that instant took possession of me I eou-d have declared that a s mething tangible whispered to me that these might become mine. A vision rose up before me as to what I should be, what I could do. From that raomeii! I became possessed as much, I verily believe, as the man that you read of in the New Testament. I was no longer my own master. I had lost my free will. I saw where the diamonds were kept. 1 noticed the key as Mr Wellesley placed it on the table after locking up his treasure. I studied it during the whole time that he was writing out a cheque. I have a strangely accurate eye for form, and as soon as I left the room I made a drawing of the key. Even then I could hardly tell why I did it It was as though my mind and my hand were guided by some mesmeric power, unse n but felt. Bit by bit the madness gained upon me of wishing to possess those diamonds. Day by day it gr j w stronger and has controllable. I became ill and feverish ; I slept little, and my dreams were haunted by the flashes of those stones. Strange, unaccountable state in one who had handled and had the command of thousands of gems, and never felt the slightest wish to possess one,’ ‘ strange indeed ’ I observed. *Do you mean to say that you have had control of the stores at Burt and Henry’s, and yet never coveted any but those belonging to my cousin ? ’

• Never, sir, on ray honour ; as truly as that we are now in this car ia. e. By night, I say, 1 could not sleep. By day I grew restless and absorbdd My oompani ns noted tho change, and joked me with being in love I was indeed in love feveriddy, insane y in love ; but not as they supposed. ‘One thought, one idea absorbed me; tho possession of these gems. My brain had

os*; its balance. “deep, rest, appe'ite p«*ce of mind—everything was gone Then came the time when M r Wellesley went to Erls mere. I had made a hey as near to my model and recollection as possible, I went up to my nmole and naked him to let me spend a week with him. He readily consented, for I am a favorite of his. You *>now, B'r, that though a servant, my uncle has almost gent'e blood in his veins. He is well ednetted and intelligent too. But he is only my -gnole by marriage. That very first night, when the house was asleep I crept out of my own ro >m, slipped intC Mr Wellesley’s and tried my hey ’ ‘ And it succeeded?’ I interrupted, involuntarily. * No. fir. not as yet. It wanted altering, but I could tell that it would eventually, For several nights I did the same thing until at last the door stood rpen. The diamonds wore mine Tins happened but two nighis befote Mr Wellesley’s return home,

‘ But now, though the diamonds were mine, so uncertain so treacherous is human nature, I suddenly lost all peace of mind, all happiness. With the success of my scheme I seemed to realise for the first time the enormity of my crime. In short my mind had recovered its balance. My companions had noticed my altered appearance before : they did so more than ever now I can safely say that that not one moment’s rest have I enjoyed since that one fatal night. Not from the fear of discovery, bad as that has been, but for the sin it c elf. I would have returned them secretly—l would indeed—but then came the fuss, the commotion, the town-talk, the advertisements, the knowledge that Scotland Yard had the matter in hand, and I feared to do it. To add to my misery, I was paralysed with terror. Nightly dreams of a felon’s fate, of working in chains visited me. I would start up in the darkness, trembling with a wild fear 1 , feeling the clutch of a detective upon my arm, the iron round my wrist In short, I was on the road to madness or death.

‘ T could bear it no longer. I asked for a holiday. It was granted at once. My principals saw I was ill, and ■thought I needed rest: I was too good a clerk to them to be lightly esteemed. I left directly. My mind was made up. I would quit England and emigrate. When far enough away to be in safety, I wou’d return the diamonds, and thus in some slight measure atone for my sin. This very night I was on my way to Hereford to bid my mother farewell/ ‘ And the diamonds ?’ I asked, after a pause given to painful thought. ‘ Are here.’ He pulled out a packet from a capacious great coat po:;ket, and placed it in my hands. ‘ Every one of them is there Not one is touched, or lost, or stolen. As I took them, so I return them to you. And row, sir,’ he concluded, 4 do with me as you will. Give me up to justice, if you think fit, and complete my ruin. It will scarcely make me miserable than I am.’

What would you have done, reader ? ‘ There is one thing I cannot quite understand,, I said, passing over the question for a moment. ‘ I saw you in this compartment at Paddington; a few moments later you had disappeared.’ ‘There was my mistake,’ he replied. _ ‘ I saw you enter the station and recognised you. In a moment, like an inspiration, it flashed across me that I would confide iu you. If you only knew how I have longed to'confi !e in some one I I watched you enter the compartment, then leave it again. I had already taken a first-class ticket to Hereford, thinking I should be safer from observation in a first-class carriage than in {To he continued .)