CHAMBER OF HORRORS.

Marlborough Express, Volume XLII, Issue 215, 10 September 1908, Page 6

CHAMBER OF HORRORS.

EYES THAT WATCHED IN THE

NIGHT

Bow is the time when all sorts j and conditions of men and women j will flock to the Metropolis. Let this ; little tale sound a note of warning J to all who have no friends m that dread and mysterious city. My story | will speak for itself. Some years ago ray brother was appointed to an important post on one of the Whrfce &tar liners, and there was general rejoicing in the family when he proposed that we should all come up to London to live, so as to make a home for him when in port. Iwo ot us made preparations to go up househunting, as'we wished to be settled by the time he would return after a six months' voyage. We had only been once before in London—father was alive and with us them—when we had put up at the Euston and done the sights. ■ . "This time," said the sister who was coming with me, "I moist see Madame Taussaud's and the Chamber of Horrors. You remember tljat father would not take us there. He said we were far too young." "MISS CHUTTERTON."

As now our means were more limited we decided not to go to an hotel, but find something cheaper if pos•dble. So we looked up an address of '% Religious Association which eaterid for visitors, . and wrote to the Superintendent—we will /call her Miss Johnstone. ,■ A. few days after-, wards we received a reply from, her stating that she was sorry she liad no vacancy for two, but she added, "I will look round my district and give your letter,to someone whom I can trust for cleanliness, etc." We thought this very considerate of Miss Johnstone, and waited. Sure enough in a day or two we got another letter, this time from a Miss Chutterton, saying Miss Johnstone had interviewed her on our behalf, and stating terms. As these were suitable wes arranged witli ier and set off the following Saturday h'om our quiet northern city by boat, arriving at our destination on die Monday afternoon, after a very stormy passage. We found our ;way quite easily, and also Miss Chutterton, a middle-aged lady, with grey hair, a very . youthful figure, and spectacles. She received us graciously, made us feel at home, gave us tea, and chatted brightly meanwhile. We noticed that the front room downstairs was set out as a photographic studio, and Miss Chutterton explained that she and a cousin, another lady who lived with her, made that their principal work', only taking boarder 3at odd times,as, for instance, when asked to do so by Miss Johnstone. We set" off at once on our quest, delighted to have found such nice Quarters to live in during our stay. Needless to say we had the usual heart-breaking experiences to which house-hunters are subjected, and as night fell we returned to our rooms quite done out, and proposed to go to bed at once. THE CHEST OF DRAWERS.

Our bedroom was on the ground floor, immediately behind the studio, from which it was separated by folding doors. These were tightly closed, and in front stood a handsome mahogany chest of drawers, with the usual long drawers at the foot and three small ones in a line near the j top. Near the window was the washstand, with a double set of jugs and basins.1 After locking the door and seeing that the window was secure, we crept into bed, which was clean and inviting, and utterly exhausted by our sleepless voyage and the weary tramping were soon off to sleep. A loud crash as of metal falling overhead made us- start up wide awake. There was no gas in the room, and we had extinguished the candles, but fortunately I had some matches at hand. Up we got, and feeling nervous on account of the unexpected sound, examined the room carefully, found all secure, and went to bed again. I looked at my watch; it wa3 almost midnight. We v/ere just beginning to think of sleep again when a grating noise, as of a rusty mangle being turned, proceeded from the same direction as the first sound, and went on almost continuously, mingled with stealthy footsteps on the stairs from time to time.

"I should like to see into^ that room upstairs for a moment," said my sister, as hour after hour passed and we sat up in bed listening.

"Nonsensel" I replied. "Miss Chutterton is probably sleepless on account of having two strange women in the house. She really knows nothing about us, and may be working at her photos to pass the time."

THE WATCHING EYES. This seemed a solution of the mystery, and once more we tried to settle, when close to us, and unmistakably in the room, we heard a suppressed cough. Now thoroughly terrified, we looked wildly round. Dawn by this time was creeping into the room, and by the dim light I saw that tho front of one of the small drawers had disappeared. Through the aperture thus left empty a pair of eyes were watching us, "Fly to tho window," I cried to my sister, and we both made a rush for it. It was nailed down, but we seized the water jugs and sopn made short work of the lower-panes. During this time there was a fumbling going on inside the chest of drawers, then the click of a spring, the front | opened like a door, and a man rushed into the room brandishing a large open kn^fe. My sister was through the window. I was following, but he was on me before I could get free, j In desperation I turned oh him with the broken water jug, and brought it down on him with all the strength I couid muster. The blow must have stunned him, for he let me go. I can hear the dull thud of it yet. We fled into the little garden. Here we were two hejpless women shivering in our night gowns in the frosty wind, and confronted on three sides by fairly high walls, in the background of that terrible house. But help was at hand. The breaking glass and our screams had roused the neighbourhood. Windows were thrown up, heads appeared; in a very little time we were surrounded and lifter over the wall into a neighbouring house, where we told our tale. A COINER'S DEN. The police were communicated with,, and soon after their arrival we got our clothes again from t the j room wo had occupied, minus our I purses and my gold watch. Fortunately we' had taken the precaution to tie a few of our sovereigns in a little bag round our necks. They found the house empty. Miss Chutterfcon, the cousin, the man—all had fled—but we had helped tho police to an important discovery. The house was a coiner's den, which they had

,been trying to find for many a day. So'much, they told us., and admitted that the bogus chest of drawers, containing only front panels, and leaving space 'behind large enough /to hold a man, was an. ingenious, though in this case diabolical mode of concealment. The motherly old lady who took us in and was the first to quell our hysterics with any &uccess saw more. of the police inspector than we did, and hinted of traces of still more dreadful deeds in awe-striken tones. But for some accident—Providence or Fate, which caused one of the coiners to let fall some metal plates, which were found on the floor near the press—we would Lave gone to sleep—the heavy sleep of exhaustion—and would have so easily added to their list of victims. The coiners must have had accomplices near and ready to take them in, or some other place of refuge, for this Miss Chutterton was never found. To the neighbours she had posed successfully as a quiet, Godfearing woman, leading a simple and retined life, engrossed in her art. To all inquiries she could have saicl that we went out house-hunting and never returned.

We did hot take a house in London, but returned to the North with feelings of great thankfulness, and without even taking time to vi^ic Madame Taussaud's. On our homeward journey my sister remembered the omission with regret. "I should think , you had had enough of the Chamber of Horrors," I answered, with a grim smile. It was* rather a gruesome attempt at a joke, but I really couldn't let it pass.