A QUEER STORY.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 362, 24 April 1889, Page 4

A QUEER STORY.

Mr and Mrs Shand had lived at Wickorsfcead Grange for several yoars before the tatal fire which, for the time, kept that out-of-the-way spot on everybody'b tongue In their early days the Shands had had a considerable establishment, bub of lace years their circumstances had been greatly reduced. Mr Shand had failed in business, and had descended in the commercial scale to the nondescript vocation of a ' commission agent.' His horses first went ; most of the land formerly held with the Grange followed : and then the servants hid been dismissed ono by one until the stall' of domestics was reduced to a maid-of-allwoik, and a man who came in occasionally to keep the garden in order and do odd work by the job. An out of-che-way spot it was, truly ! Though within three milo 3 of Crosdon, Wickstead itself is the merest rural haralot, consisting of church, parsonage, beorshop, and a few cottages. The Giange stood a quarter of a mile from the village — an old tarm-house, only partially modernised, and far more picturesque than cheerful ; in every way as bad a place as could well be found for a serious fire. Probably even those who remember the tragic events which grew out of it will have forgotten the circumstances. II is necessary, then, to recur to them in some detail. The first alarm was given about 5 a.m. — just before daybreak one morning in March — by William Hewitt, the odd-job man above referred to. Hewitt lived in a cottage about three hundred yards distant from the Grange. He was out of bed, attending to a sick child, and was attracted by the glare in the windows By the time ho reached the house the back of the I premises was well alight. There was no help immediately available. To despatch a mounted messenger to Croydon and call the fire-brigade was a long business, and by the tirao the firemen and engines arrived, the part of the house where the fire had broken out was completely gutted. As it happened, that poition was a small wing which had been built on recently, having a billiard-room (now table-less) and some smaller apartments on the groundfloor, and two or three rooms above. It was under a separate roof, was detached by the original outer wall of the house, and contained a separate staircase. Probably owing to these facts, tho exertions of the neighbours and the firemen sufiiced to prevent the fire gaining any hold on the main building. Unfortunately, however, Mr Shand was on this particular night sleeping by himself in this wing. The fact was not discovered until all possibility even of attempting his rescue was past. A few scarcoly-recognisable remains found on the following day placed the fate of the unhappy man beyond all doubt. The inquest which followed threw little light on the origin of the calamity. Hewitt's evidence pointed to the fire having originated in a little room opening out of the billiard-room, used as a store-room, and situated immediately under the room where Mr Shand slept. He persisted that he first saw the glare in one or two of the grounddoor windows, though in that case the fire must have spread with extraordinary rapidity. Hewitt was the only witness of any importance. The maid-servant, Jane Gosling by name, had had a fit immediately after her escape from the house, and was -.till unfit to attend the inquest ; and Mrs Shand, rdiough the inquiry was adjourned for her attendance, and was not able to give the Couit much assistance. The following passages in her evidence, however, acquired some importance from the subsequent development of events :—: — By the Coroner : Did Mr Shand usually sleep in this room ? — Not usually, but he had done so for two or three nights before t/he fire. Besides this bedroom we have been told that there was another room, which served as a sort of study and smoking-room ?—? — Yes, and as a workshop. Mr Shand was fond of carpentering, and had a lathe there. He frequently worked there late. I think the fire must have originated there. Why ? — Because there was a great deal of varnish, turpentine, shavings, and other inflammable material about, and there was a small stove which 1 had often told him was dangerous. You do not think, then, that the fire originated on the ground floor ? — No. The store-room, where Hewitt says that he first saw the fire, was kept locked. I had the key. The room had not been opened «ince the morning of the previous day, and there was nothing inflammable there to my knowledge. A juryman : Was there any special reason for Mr Shand sleeping by himself ? — He had been troubled with neuralgia and sleeplessness for some weeks past, and preferred to sleep alone for that reason. He was very fond of this particular room. The Coroner : Did he ever take narcotie3, or any remedy for sleeplessness ? — He has done so occasionally — very much against my advice. What have you known him take ?—Sometimes chloral, sometimes morphia — injected hypodermically. Do you think he might have taken any on this particular night? — I only know that he had a bottle containing morphia in his bedroom. (At this point the witness almost fainted.) Mrs Shand, though forty years of age, was still an attractive woman, and one of those women who look doubly attractive in their grief. The coi'oner was a tenderhearted man, and he asked her no more questions. And that, therefore, was all the information elicited at the inquest, * hich ended in a verdict of ' Accidental Death.' As nob unfrequently happens, however, there was other evidence nob far off, which gave a much more serious complexion to the occurrence. And there was another body in the background, far less easy bo satisfy than a coroner's jury. That body was the Monument Insurance Company. The deceased man, Isaac Shand, had been an agent of this Company, and he had effected on his own behalf considerable insurances in the office. His life had been insured only three months before his death for an additional £1,000, making his policy in all one ' of £5,000, and he had a policy on his furniture and household effects for the sum of £1,500. A week had elapsed since the close of the inquest, wh6n Mr Capper, the managing director of the Insurance Company, entered the office of Mr George, the Company's solicitor, in response to an urgent summons. ' We have got some further evidence in the Wickstead case,' said Mr George, ' which I felt it necessary to communicate to you ab once, for it has a very ugly look abouf it.' ' Arson ?' queried Mr Capper. * If it's that, it's worse, as you know,' replied the lawyer. ' Just listen and draw your own conclusions. We have interviewed Jane Gosling, the servant-girl, who, as you remember, was too ill to appear at the inquest. Here is her statement, as our man took it down from her own lips ':—: — ' On the night of the fire I went to bed early, about ten o'clock. That was before | my usual time, but missus came into the kitchen and hurried me off. She seemed in a very bad temper. I had not heard any quarrel between her and master, but master went up to his study before I went to bed. I slept in the attic in front of the house, at

the opposite end to where the fire was. After I had been asleep a little while, I heard moving about and voices. Not knowing what the time was, I opened the door and listened. I heard missus's voice downstairs in the direction of the study staircase. I thought I heard master answering her. My door creaks when opened, and I suppose missus heard it, for presently she cameupstairs, listening. I got; back into bed and pretended to be asleep, and heard missus come upstairs and listen at my door for a bit, and then shut my door and go down again. Presently I heard her go to her own room and shut the door, and then everything was quiet, and I went to sleep again. Before 1 went to sleep I heard the clock in the hall strike one. I don't know how long I slept, but I was awoke before daylight by hearing a door open, and someone move downstairs. I felt frightened and nervous like, and got out of bed again. I saw a light in the hall at the bottom, and went a little way downstairs I saw then that the light was right at the end of the passage, by the abilliard-room door. It might have been in the store-room. I heard some one strike a match two or three times. Then I heard a door shut — it sounded like the storeroom door. I saw missus come out into the passage, and shut and lock the door at the end which leads to the billiard -room and the study stairs. I hurried back as fast as I could when 1 saw her, and after waiting a minute, shut my door again, and got into bed. I was very cold and uncomfortable, and could not sloop, and I lay shivering until I heard a ring at the bell, and some one calling out " Fire !" That was Hewitt. I jumped up and opened the door, and the smoke came rolling in, and 1 can't remember anything else until Hewitt came and helped me out. After I got out of the house I had a fit, as you have heard. I should think it was about twenty minutes or half an hour after I saw missus downstairs that I heard Hewitt ring.' 1 Phew !' ejaculated Mr Capper. • That's worse than anything I suspected. What do j ou make of it ?' • What do you make of it ?' asked the solicitor. The two men looked at one another in silence for a moment, and Mr Capper's lips seomed totrame the word 'murder.' ' If she fired the premises,' he presently continued aloud, ' in the way this evidence suggests, she was going, not merely for the insurance on the furniture, but also for the insurance on his life.' ' Just so. That's the serious part of it, and that's why I sent for you. You see this is a very different thing from arson, with an unpremeditated murder growing out of it.' Very different. Dare we raise such a charge on the evidence we have?' ' It is not only Gosling's evidence, remember. In the first place, let me call your attention to the way the girl's statement fits in with Hewitt's evidence. You may remember that he said at the inquest that, after ringing the bell, he broke in through one of the ground floor windows, and then found Mrs Shand on the staircase partially dressed. Yet she had made no attempt to arouse Gosling, and, what is more remarkable, &he nevtr said a word about her husband until Hewitt had got Gosling out of the house, and wa&> on the point of going off for further help. You will remember, too, how anxious Mrs Shand was at the inquest to negative Hewitt's evidence that the fire originated downstairs.' • Very true !' asbented the manager. ' But, in addition to all this, we have now come across a more striking piece of evidence. A large barrel of paraffin was always kept in the stable. Hewitt, had charge of it. He is positive that a new barrel had been opened only a day or two before the fire, and that not more than a gallon of oil had been drawn from it. Yet on the day after the fire the barrel was found all but empty. Wait : that is not all. Among the debris, which we had sifted after the fire, the salvage men found a small galvanised iron can. This can Hewitt identifies as having been used solely for drawing-off the paraffin from the barrel, and he is positive that he left it in the stable the day beforejthe fire.' ' That is very strong certainly,' said Mr Capper. ' Now let me add something to it. I told you that we knew Shand was hard up, and tha^ we suspected him of misappropiiating premiums. We have now found out three cases in which he had received money and not accounted for it. His wife must have known something of the state of his aflairp — possibly that ruin was actually hanging over both of them.' ' That is material,' said the solicitor, ' but, of course, it only goes to motive. The question will turn with a jury, as far as I can see, mainly upon this statement of Gosling's, supplemented by Hewitt's evidence. What I want you to consider is whether on that evidence you are prepared to lay a charge which must in the end amount to one of murder.' ' There is a fire claim here,' said Mr Capper, ' a claim for £300 odd, as well as the claim upon the life policy. There being unmistakable evidence of arson, 1 do not see that we have any alternative but to fight.' : Very good,' replied the solicitor. ' Now I know how to proceed.' Mr George was nob a man to let the grass grow under his feet. Two days later Mrs Shand was in custody on a charge of arson. The evidence against her when she came before the magistrates was substantially that indicated in the foregoingconversation. Only one fact Avas added to it, but it was a fact not without significance — namely, that less than a week before the fire the prisoner had packed up a quantity of jewellery and probable valuables, and despatched the box containing them to London. The geneial eflect of the evidence was irresistible, and the experienced barrister retained for the prisoner showed his appreciation of it by reserving the defence. Mrs Shand was accordingly committed for trial — and on the double charge of murder and arson. Mr George, the insurance company's solicitor, had expressed his opinion that the veidict would depend mainly on Jane Gosling 1 ; and so the result proved. The famous case of ' The Queen v. Shand ' made the name and fortune of Mr Crossly Sharpe, and made it chiefly by reason of the masterly way in which, without exactly breaking it down, the advocate contrived to discredit Jane Gosling's evidence. The girl was the first witness called for the prosecution. Before she left the box, Mr Crossly Sharpe had shown outof herown mouth that she had left her last situation with a bad character tor truthfulness ; that Mrs Shand had twice reprimanded and threatened to dismiss her for small offences a day or two before the fire ; and that the girl hadon two or three previous occasions had ' fits ' of a hysterical or epileptic character. The whole manner of the witness under crossexamination created a bad impression, and the case for the prosecution was, consequently, under a cloud from the first. Hewitt's evidence in regard to the barrel of paraffin was also signally discredited. The man swore positively that the barrel had only been opened three or four days before the fire, and he was equally positive that he had opened it the day it was delivered; upon which the delivery note waa put to him dated exactly twelve days before the fire. A still

more remarkable fact) was elicited from Jane Gosling — namely, that on the evening ' before the firo she had seen her master go to the stable, and return carrying the iron paraffin can, which, she believed, he had then taken up to his workshop. With regard to Mrs Shand'n jewellery, it was shown for the defence that it was packed in a tin deed-box belonging to Mr Shand ; and some papers and small valuables of his were alsoput into it; thathe himself wrote a label for it ; and that it was consigned to his office in the City, and taken by him to his bankers. ' Was that?' asked Mr Sharpe, 'evidence of an intent to commit arson? If so, it was evidence not only against the prisoner, but against the man she was charged with murdering. So was the evidence about the paraffin. It now appeared that if the paraffin had been used for incendiary purposes, it was so used by the deceased man himself. If the prosecution were logical, they would have to contend that this supposed crime was carried out by the prisoner in conjunction with her husband, who, in order to defraud an insurance company, had arranged to set fire to hi& house and burn him alive !' And so on, and so on. The result was that, although, as the judge told the jury, the case was not tree from suspicion, and there appeared to be some mystery behind which was not fully cleared up, the jury at once acquitted the prisoner without leaving the box, and Mrs Shand was carried out of couise in a dead faint, but a free woman. Late the same night, James Shand, Isaac's younger brother, was closeted with the widow. 'Eleanor,' ho said, 'now tell me, for Heaven's sake, the meaning of the extraordinary statement which you handed to me in the prison. 1 ' Nothing ! nothing ! Consider my position. I was mad.' 'Mad, indeed,' returned James Shand, 'if you thought that such a confession as that could help you. But let me ask you, Eleanor, do you expect me to believe that an innocent woman would attempt to prove her innocence by inventing such a monstrous tale as that V ' What ?' cried the woman. 'Do you, you, dare to insinuate now that I am guilty V Shand turned aside and said nothing. 'Listen, then,' said Mrs Shand. 'There is this much foundation for the statement I sent you : Ibaac is alive. Within a few weeks 1 will prove it to you.' 11. Some seven months had elapsed since the trial. Although, in the interval, the widow had more than once referred again to the subject, the promised proof of the extraordinary statement with which she had startled her biother-in-law had not been forthcoming, James Shand was a matter-ot-fact man of business. Seeing that his sister-in-law duly proved her husband's will, and obtained the money insured upon his life, he vei3 r soon came to the conclusion that her statement was a passing hallucination, bom of the mental excitement oc capioned by her troubles. Mrs Shand continued to reside at Wickstead Orange, though, when James pressed her to sell the place, she always' said that she intended to do &o as soon as her arrangements were made. Partly at her brother-in-law's suggestion, however, she had engaged a lady to live with her as companion. This lady was a Miss Curtis, a middle-aged woman of tact and intelligence, and a distant relation of the deceased Mr Shand. Altli" ugh Mrs Shand had no idea of it, Miss Curtis was in constant communication with James Shand. In fact, James supplemented out of his own pocket the modest salary which Mrs Shand allowed her companion, the understanding being that the lady was to keep a constant watch on Mrs Shand's actions and health, and report to him as occasion required. It was Christmas Eve — the Christmas after the fire at Wickstead. Jacnes Shand was in his office in Billiter-street, busily preparing for his Christmas holiday, when Miss Curtis was announced. ' Well,' said Mr Shand, after they had exchanged the compliments of the season, ' and how is Eleanor ?' ' I have been rather uneasy about her,' replied Miss Curtis. ' I want to ask whether you have heard of her expecting to see or hear from anybody this Christmas ?' ' No,' said James Shand, who was desirous of getting an absolutely different statement. ' Why do you ask V ' Because she has been dropping hints on the subject from time to time for several weeks past. At first she spoke in a mysterious way that lather puzzled me. But during the last two or three days she has been referring to it constantly and without any disguise.' ' How do you mean ? What does she say ?' ' That in the course of a day or two, on Christmas Day probably, she will hear good news from some one whom I know. That, perhaps, he will come himself. At any rate, that he will write. That she has been expecting to see him or hear from him for six months, but he has promised that he shall not be later than Christmas ; and so on. She speaks so confidently that she evidently believes in what ehe says, and it all sounds so natural tHat it would not have attracted my attention but for one circumstance.' ' And what is that V Miss Curtis paused, and went on in a lower tone : — ' I dare say you will laugh at my fancy, but something in her manner, in her tone of refening to this individual, impresses me with the idea that she is alluding to — Isaac. Do you think it can be a delusion ?' James Shand did not quite know what to say, but made what effort he could to poohpooh Miss Curtis's suggestion. ' Perhaps,' continued the lady, *I should not have entertained that idea but for the other fact of which I have told you before — the noise in the cellar.' •Ah ! she still bears that, does she ?' asked James. ' She has heard it, or thought she has heard it, more frequently than ever during the last week — especially at night. The night before last she woke me up to ask if I could hear it. Of course, I could hear nothing. Last night she woke me twice. The second time she said she must go down and see what it was. I had the greatest difficulty in preventing her. When I listened at the door, and insisted that there was nota sound to be heard, she grew quite angry, declaring that there was a perpetual rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat, like a double knock at the hall door, only down in the cellar.' ' Extraordinary !' was all James Shand could say. ' You see, Mr Shand,' Miss Curtis went on, ' there can be no doubt after this that she is subject to one delusion and, if to one, why not two? The result is that I am greatly alarmed. I am not of a nervous disposition, but to be woke up two or three time^ in the night to listen to this noise in the cellar would upset anybody. lam looking forward to to-night very anxiously, and I think that it is time some doctor who understands these things was called in to see her.' Mr Shand could hardly object to this. So after some further conversation ib was ar- j

. 1 ranged that Mrs Shand's regular medical attendant should be communicated with, and that hs Bhould call in any further advice he thought necessary. With that Mies Curtis left. James Shand had a small, but festive, -'hristmas party that night at his comfortable rosidence at Blackheath. The livelier amusement:) of the evening were over, the guests who lived near had gone, and the remainder of the company were sitting round the fire in the smoking-room, the ladies having followed the gentlemen thither. Besides the host and hostess, there were only present Mrs Shand's sister, the gentleman she was about to marry, and a Jady and gentleman, old friends of the family, who had just returned from abroad, and who have nothing to do with the present narrative. As not unfrequently happens when people sit around the fire on winter evenings, the conversation soon assumed a ghostly and supernatural hue. One or two mysterious experiences were retailed at first or second-hand, and presently a demand was made upon James Shand for a story. ' Oh, do, please, Japes !' pleaded his sister-in-law. ' Something to make our flesh creep.' The idea of the prosaic Mr James Shand making anybody's flesh creep raised a general laugh. Perhaps the laugh put the master of the house upon his mettle. At any rate, remarking that if he could not tell a story he could, at any rate, read one, he presently unlocked a drawer in his writing-table, and produced a parcel of manuscript, written on a number of sheets of notepaper strung together. He then proceeded to read the following narrative, which he said he would call MADNESS OR CRIME ? With the most awful fate that can befall man or woman hanging over me, I take up my pen to make known to you the truthIt seems to me that in full confession lies my only hope of escape. Whether that be so or not is for you to judge when you have read my story. I beseech you, therefore, follow it attentively. The trouble which has brought me to this began long ago. As you know, John never recovered from the disaster which first broughthhn down in the world. . . . With a fresh load of debt thus accumulating over our heads, our position became desperate. How desperate, however, I scarcely knew until John communicated tomethe wild plot which has ended as you see. This was his plan : An addition, as large as we could afford to pay for, was to be made to the insurance on his life. He was th^n to disappear under circumstances which would raise a presumption of his death, and to make his way secretly to one of the colonies. I was to prove his will, obtain the insurance money, and join him as soon as all doubt or suspicion had blown over. So far, I do not know that there was anything out of the common in the fraud. It was in the scheme for supplying a fictitious proof of his own death that my husband displayed such perverse and horrible ingenuity. About two years ago, on the death of my uncle Angus, some few of his goods and chattels, including various odds and ends trom his surgery, for which no purchaser could be found at the time, were sent to us. Among them was - how the very mention of the thing makes me shudder now ! — a human skeleton, which my uncle had kept in a case in a corner of his room ever since he resigned his professorship. For this ghastly object John conceived an unaccountable fancy, and he had it taken to his workshop, with a view of studying the construction of the bones. To me, however, it was from the first an object of unspeakable terror and aversion. I insisted on his putting it out of the way, and ultimately it was removed to the large cellar which runs under the house at the billiard-room end. This loathsome thing John now proposed to employ in the perpetration of his fraud His scheme was to secretly remove t e skeleton to the room where he sometimes slept ; to set fire to that wing of the house, after preparing a conflagration on such a scale that the discovery of nothing but the scorched bones among the ruins should occasion no surprise ; and then to make his escape as 1 have already described. Only, in order to facilitate his escape, it was desirable that I should undertake the actual firing ot the premises. Why did I consent, you will ask. Think of what you have heard during the last few days. At first I refused, indignantly. Then it was that he told me of the worst danger hanging over him, showed me that our choice lay between this, on the one hand, and, on the other ruin, coupled with disgrace The arrangements having thus been made, the fatal night arrived. Up to this point, you will understand, though the place had been so prepared that, when a light was once applied, the whole wing would be in flames in a few minutes, the skeleton still remained in the cellar. For fear of a possible intrusion into the room, we dared not bring the thing up until the servants were in bed. I may here remark that I was extremely suspicious of the girl Jopling, having frequently caught her prying and eavesdropping. We settled, therefore, that I should bid John good-bye, as soon as possible after the girl had gone to bed. To avoid all possible risk of our being observed, he was not to come near me again. I was to retire to my room ; he to his. He had then nothing to do but to fetch the skeleton from the cellar, put it in the appointed place, lock the bed-room door, and make his way out by the billiardroom window. There was another reason for this. I dared not have gone near the thing. Already my nerves were at their utmost tension. To have placed any further strain upon them would have incapacitated me for my share in the conspiracy. John himself was excited to a decree which added to my alarm. He had suffered acute neuralgia during the day, and told me just before we parted that he must take a dose of morphia before he completed the work. I said good-bye to him and retired. I listened at my door for the sounds of his ghastly task. But he was very quiet, and the noise of my own beating heart drowned all else. Oh, the horrible hours that followed ! The haunting sights and sounds— the visions of the nameless Thing upon his bed ; the incessant terror of accident or intrusion ! Amid an infinity of tortures &uch as these, one, two, three, four hours dragged slowly by. Then, trembling and conscience stricken, I stole downstairs. After half-a-dozen abortive efforts I struck a light and fired the train. In a moment — but why prolong this torture ? You know the rest. There is my story. What is to be done for me ? If only he knew of my danger, he could at once save me. But it was agreed that, for greater security he should hold no communication with me for three months. Ib may be longer. The only thing fixed for certain was that he should let me know his whereabouts, and fix the time and place for me to join him, by Christmas next at the latest. Now, say, is it better to disclose the truth and accept what must follow, or to keep silence and face the chances of my present position ? I must have someone to advise me, or I can hold my tongue no longer. On the following morning, the Christmas party at James Shand's were just rising

from breakfast, when a kriock was heard'afc the door, and a telegram was handed to the master of the house. ' A telegram on Christmas Day !' exclaimed Mrs Shand, anxiously. 'I hope ib is nothing serious.' 4 See for yourself,' replied her husband, handing her the document, which ran thus : — 'Something terrible has happened. Come afc once. — Cubtis.' There was nothing for it but to go ; and, trains being few and far between on this particular day, James Shand was in a few minutes on his way to find out what was the matter. He was accompanied by Mr Arthur Dallas, his sistei'-in-law's intended husband. The journey to Croydon was slow and dispiriting ; that from Croydon to Wickstead worse. A dense fog hung over the country. As the two gentlemen afc last approached the Grange, they saw that the blinds were drawn down in all the windows. The general aspect of the place was unspeakably gloomy, and the more so by contrast with the Christmas merriment which they had everywhere left behind. Miss Curtis opened the door. Her appearance added to the alarm which filled her visitors. Her cheeks were pale, her eyes wild and bloodshot, her hair in disoraer. She led the gentlemen into the drawing-room, apologising for her condition. Almost as soon, however, as she attempted to speak, her self-possession forsook her, and, sinking into a chair, she burst into a tempest of sobs. Some wine stood on a side table. James Shand poured out a glass. After drinking it the unfortunate lady became somewhat calmer, and presently, in broken sentences, and with many pauses, she narrated the following story : — ' I told you yesterday that I looked forward to the night with dread. Little did I imagine the extent of the horror in store. ' On my return I found Eleanor perfectly rational and intelligent, but yet painfully excited. She spoke again of the news she expected, running out to the door each time the postman came, and making no secret of her disappointment when he brought only Christmas cards. • Nothing else occurred until just before we went to bed. Then she suddenly cried out that she heard the noise in the cellar. In spite of all I could do to persuade her that it was imagination, she presently went to the door that shuts off the cellar steps. She stood there listening. Oh ! I shall never forget it. "Don't you hear," she cried. "There it goes, loud — rat-a-tat — tat-tat ! Now soft — tat-a-tat-tat ! Jane, what does it mean ?" I entreated her not to give way to such fancies. I took her by the arm, led her upstairs, and helped her into bed. 'If she heard anything more, she said nothing of it. I was tired and quickly went to sleep. Suddenly— l don't know how long after — something woke me up with a start. I was horrified to find the door of the room open and Eleanor's bed empty. Taking a candle, I hurried downstairs. ' Before 1 had gone many step 3 I heard a noise, like one or two hard blows with a hammer. I stopped and listened. Then there was a fearful shi'iek somewhere below — I hear it ringing in my ears now — and then I heard a wild cry, in Eleanor's voice, "Oh ! Help ! help I have murdered him !" Then there was a sound as of a heavy fall. • I flew down stairs. A light shone up from the cellar. I went a little way down the steps, and then 1 saw — Oh ! 1 cannot tell you what I saw ! I feel as if I should go mad when I think of it. . . . . ' There was a light in the cellar. On the floor lay Eleanor, her face upturned, her eyes fixed, blood gushing from her mouth. In the corner was a hideous grinning skeleton. • One leg of this ghastly figure was put forward, as if it were about to walk. The light flickered. I seemed to see the thing moving, My head swam. I remember nothing more but a sensation of falling — falling ! ' When I woke up it was daylight. They had carried me upstairs. Hewitt will tell you how they found me— and her. For Eleanor was dead. I know now that she was dead when I saw her on the floor.' It was true. Mrs Shand was dead. Presently her brother-in-law and Dallas paid a brief visit to the chamber of death. Then, having seen the man Hewitt, they procured a light, and made their way to the cellar. 'I must ask you one question, James,' said Dallas. { Was that story you read to us last night written by Mrs Isaac Shand ?' ' There is no reason now why I should not tell you that it was,' replied James. 'Of course, I have long regarded it as the production of a disordered mind, or I should not have divulged the story even to you.' ' I hope it was,' responded Dallas. By this time they had reached the cellar. On opening the door, the truth of Miss Curbis's narrative was at once revealed in all its horror. In a chest opposite the door stood the skeleton. A ghastly patch upon the floor showed where Mrs Shand had fallen dead. Dallas examined the skeleton and the chest containing it, the door or lid of which had been opened and swung back. 'James,' he said, 'this is the skeleton mentioned in your story last night.' ' Doubtless, but what of that ?' • What of that ! Why, the story is clearly 1 true, except in one particular. Isaac never placed the skeleton in his room, and never left the place. His wife, believing him to have dono so, fired the house. From that day to this she has remained, as Miss Curtis tells us, waitingto hear from him, until last nighb she came down here, opened the chest, and discovered the truth. That killed her.' 'But why should Isaac remain in his room to be burnt ?' • Remember what his wife says about the morphia. He would not be the first man who has overdosed himself, either intentionally or by accident,' ' Good God, Dallas ! Then she did murder him.'