THE CRY IN THE DARK.

Otago Witness, Issue 620, 16 October 1863, Page 8

THE CRY IN THE DARK.

[PBOJtONOK &. WBBR»}

It was on Wfndermere, one ,Btfnjiy ''evening last ~ autum i but one, that the following adventure was told me by a kindly middle-aged gentleman, whose j pleasant acquaintance I ?.ad made at the hotol where I was staying. We had come out with the intention of fMiing, and were anchored about twenty yards off shore on the tartherjjide of the lake ; but finding the perch in no humor to bite while the sun was so high, we sat chatting and smoking, and watching the purple 'shadows slowly up the sides of the great hills that guard the heal of the lake, biding our time patiently till the fish should lie hungry enough to be tempted by our bait. I had been taking a walking tour through Lakeland, and my companion had made the ascent of Foirfield on the previous day ; so that our conversation, workine gradually round from divergent points, at lenght fell naturally on pedes trianit-iu, nnd the tmount of health and pleasure to be derived from travelling through a country ou foot ; and it w.is upon this hiut that my companion spake as follows : -

When I was a young fellow (siid he), ihalis to say. more than thirty summers ago, I was ns fond of walking tnurs as anybody. The first I ever too < was tlircusrh Cornwall, when I wns but a lad of seventeen ; on which occasion i met with a little adventure which, with yjur good pleasure, I will relate to you ns soon as I have lighted another cigar.

■With a six weeks' holiday in view before returnipc; to the drudgery of ray father's office, and with a purse not ba !Iy supplied. 1 set out on mv tour, determined to enjoy myself after my own fri-e and independent fashion; and to thoroughly explore the romantic country I had chosen as the scene of my wand i\n<??, which was a<; that lime little better t'lan a terra in cognita to the ordiniry run of tourists, who firmly believed they had seen everthing that was worth seeing after staying for a few hours in each of the principal towns, and viewing the intermediate country from the top of a coach, or the windows of a post- ''■ chaise For my part I disdained all guide-books and roa'l maps ; and never knew, when I set out in the morning, what ilace would be my resting-place at night. I delighted in cross-roads and country Inne3, and sheep-tracks armng the hills; any footpath or bye-wny that led from the dusty prosaic high-road had allurements for me that I could rarely resist 1 had been leadiug this pleasant sort of life for about a fortnight, gradually working my way south-westward towards the ssa, when late oue afternoon— a gloomy overcast afternoon, as I well remember— l overtook a pedler among the hills, a German Jew fellow, with a box hanging from a strap over his shoulder; and a 9 the read was very lonely, and we both happened to be going the t same way, we naturally fell into conversation ; for in those days 1 was always ready to make the acquaintance of anybody. The road we were travelling was little more than a biidle pafh among the hills which I taken by dune, neither knowing nor caiing whither it might lead me ; and it was to such effect that I answered my companion, when he asked me for what place I was bound. He greeted my answer with a smile, and a little shrug of tke shouldere, which might either be one of pity at the idea of any rational being fin/ling 1 pleasure ov profit in such aimless wanderings, or one of disbelief at what he considered a too transparent attempt to impoie upon his credulity. After trudging along in silence for a short time, he remarked that he was bound for a certain town which be named, some dozen miles away ; that he had taken the road through the hills, hoping to find it a near cut ; that he bad never been that way before ; and that lie had heard there was a roadside inn some mile or two further on, where we could probably obtain accommodation for the night, as it would he dark in less than an hour, and feD attempt to find one's way across the moors after dark would be the heicht of folly. He concluded by asking me whether I did not want a splendid gold watch, or a chain, or a ring, or a breastpin, or a set of siuds— any or all of which he would let me have at a ridiculously low figure. Finding all his attempts to trade of no avail, lie shrugged his shoulders again, pulled up his box a little higher on his back, and, bf corning bmicamarade on the instant, offered me 1113 box full of choice foreign tobacco, and suggested a friendly pipe as the best alleviation of the toils of the way; a proposition to which I readily agreed, for, youug as I was, I had learnt the art of smoking. And bo, walking, smoking, and chatting pleasantly together, ai hour or more sped quickly away ; and I hardly knew how dark it was till my companion pointed to a faint light 6hining in the distance, and declared that it must procee 1 from the inn of which we were in quest. I have said nothing hitherto as to the personal appearance of my pedlar friend. In person he was thin and wiry, with keen mobile featui es, sharpened and intensified by the close bargaining of many year*. In age he might be fifty, or rather more ; and his hair and beard, both of J them long and tangled, and once black, were now fast becoming grey. He wore small gold circlets through his ears. He spoke i>cod English, but with a Blight foreign accent ; and finally, I gathered from his brass lettered box that his name was Max Jacoby. Toiling slowly upward, we at length rt ached the summit of the hill, and fouud ourselves close to the inn of which we were in search. The light we had seen so far away proceeded from a I.mthorn suspended from the roof of a rude shed close 10 the inn, wheie a tall brawny young savage, of most forbidding aspect, was effecting some rude repairs to a rickety tumble down cart. Tuere was a light, too, in at least one roam of the inn, a3 we saw through a chink in the wooden shatter with which the window was jealously guarded : otherwise the place seemed dark, silent, and tenantless.

On inquiring Gf the young sivage whether we could be &"coimno'Jnred f.r the night, he replied that he did not know, but that we had better knock at the door and ask the master. Not being in the habit of knocking at the doors of countiy inns, I lifted the latch, intending to walk in without cemnoay ; but finding the door would not yield to the efforts, I was oblige J, after all, to accept the sucgestinn offered me, and knock. A delay of half a minute or so, an 1 then the door was opened as far »(S the chain within would allow, and the landlord stood before us nnd inquired what we wanted. Could he accommodate v* for the night ? we as!«ed. He rubbed his hand slowly over his chiu, mused a moment, nnd thuii replied that he thought he conld perhaps do so, unfastening the chain at the same time to admit us. *

We fouud ourselves in a room of considerable sizp, poorly furnished with a few chairs,* and two tables of the commonest- kind, but looking cheerful just then in the li^ht of the large fire burning in a grate at one end of the room. Jacoby drew a chair up to (he fire with an air of enjoyment, and relieved himself of his box, placing it close by his siJe where he could krep a half-eye coustnntly upon it, requesting me at ths same time to order what \ p!ea-ed for supp.r. The landlord had disappeared into an inner room or kitchen, from which there now issued, in answer to my summons, a tJI big-bo»?a mulatto attired in a check cotton gown, an.l having a red 'kerchief bound round her heat. This appaiition was so unexpected, and seemed to me so ludicrous and out of place in a lonely Cornish inn, that I could uot help bursting into an irrepressible fit of laughter as the woman steppeJ forward into the I'oom ; but, the dark scowl that chaspd away the good-na'urtd grin with which f-he had just greeted me, warned me not to carry my amusement too fnr. On strict inquiry, t!ic capabilities of the house resolved themselves into an unlimited supply of eg?« and bacon ; so we were fain to give our orders accordingly. After the remnants nf the meal had been cleared away, the landlord himseif entered the room to ask whnt we would like to diink. Certainly a very low, s-mooth, insinuating voice, very different from that of a rude wintry landlord. He was a large-built fleshy man, with a red, fresh colon d, whiskerlcs face, which gave you at the firsf glance the idea of great good-nature, combined with an equal amount of stolid indoleneo; but when tho3e ovu--hangiiig lids were fairly raised, and you caught a full glance from the grey restless eye.3 beneath them— re-tless and tivacheroua as those of a tiger then you felt that thure was something more than somnolent good nature ab ut this man, -that thpre was an iion will to do and to dare beneath that impassive pxterior.

Jacoby chose some whisky on the Inndlord's recommendation, and I ordered a tumbler of the same, more for " the good of the home," as the saying is, fian because I c.ired to drink it. On Jocoby's invitation the landlord came and joined us; for the pedlar was fond of society, and probably thought he saw some chance of driving a bargain : at all event 0 , after imbibing a glass or two of whisky, he grew more talkative than ever, and at last lifted his box on to his knees and opened it, and spread out on the table a quantity of cheap jewellery, which looked very bd"ht and glittering by candlelight, - but was, i.-i reality," of very small intrinsic value; and endeavored, by a voluble and energetic harangue, to tempt the landlord into becoming a purchaser. That calm and sententious individual examined the baubles one by one, replaced them carefully on the table, and ended by expressing his opinion of them by a little silent laugh, and two or the extra puffs from his pipe ; thereby intimating, ai plainly as though he had said so in as many words, " Rubbish, every bit of it : don't attempt to deceive me ! "

Jacoby, with a shrug, put away his wares, closed his box, and resumed his pipe. A grateful space of silence intervened. The pedlar was drinking heavily, and the landlord took care to keep his glass constantly replenished. Before long the effects of the fiery liquor began to make themselves visible in his flushed face, and thick unsteady tones: that mixture of shrewdness and caution which, so far as I could judge, characterised his dealings with every one, seemed suddenly to "desert him; he became at once noisy, boasiful and confiding.

" I've something here, now, that it will do your eyes good to look at," he exclaimed, drawing a small leather bag from some hidden pocket. " Gains of the first water. See here, and here! What do you say to these ? " and he poured into his hand a number of Bmnll brilliants, all of them unset, which, even iv that wretched light, shone and scintilated like star, dusi, or chippings from the great belt of Orion. " Oh, my darlings, how I love you!,," said Jacoby, fondly. "You re easier to carry than silver or gold, and far prettier to look at. A ragged coat is not always the sign of & poor man, master landlord." Ho shook \m head, with drunken gravity ; g*ve

another fond look *fc his <*ea»U*4« J then deposited them in the nag, and by a slelght-ot»hßnd movement disposed of the bag nnd its contents about his person. The' landlord's heavy eyelids were filled with surprise as ths pedlar held out the brilliants in his palm; and he greeted them with a long stealthy glance from the corners of his greedy, treacherous eyes>, then let his eyelids fall again, nnd went on with his smoking as though there were no such things as diamonds in the world.

"\ou do not drink, young gentleman," said the landlord to me after a while. "I am afraid the whisky is not to your taste." " The whisky is very excellent, I have no doubt " I replied ; « but I rarely drink spirits of Fny kind, more especially when I have a long da\'s walk before me on the morrow."

"T<;en perlrjp* you will allow me to brew you a cup of cafe-au-lait. I learnt the art when I was a young fellow knocking about, ParW, aud I flatter myself that I cau do it tolerably well. And you, 100, Mr Pedlar, would be none the worse for a drop of coffee. What say you ?"

" Juit ns you like, viein Knabc ; just as you like. TLis drink which I have here is very good, bub I suppose I've had enougli of it."

The landlord set to work with alacrity, and in a few minutes produced an excellent cap of coffee, «uch certainly as I had never tasted betb re. Immediately after the coffee wns ready, the little clock in the corner struck ten, and on hearing it both Jacoby and I aiose, and asked to he shown to our rooms, for we had the prospact of a long tramp before us next day. The mulatto woman and the young savage had retired somo time before ; so the landlord in person lighted our candles, and ushered Jus up the rickety etiirs, on the top of which we found ourselves in a gloomy corridor lighted from the roof, having doors opening out of it on either sids. My room was at one end of this passage, and Jacoby's at the other, Tho landlord haying seen each of us into his room, bade us a cheerful good night ; and next moment I heard the creaking of the stairs as he went down into the lower parts of the house. I was about to close my door when Jaroby called to me from bis room, " Good -night, ole fellow Don't oveishleep y'self in th' morning.'' I responded to his greeting, aud then closed ami locked the door. The bed-room, like every other part of the house I ha-1 seen, was poorly nnd scantily furnished, aud was of an old-fashioned tumble down appearance. A.cro3S the whole length of the low ceiling ran a thick heary beam, from the middle of which stood out conspicuously a small strong hook, which at once connected itself in my mind with the idea of some antecedent suicide ; the floor in many pluces was rough and uneven ; the window consistei of small diamond panes set in lead, and barred with iron ; the door was of black oak, and there was a descent of two steps into the room.

I had sat down to note these tilings, and was partly undressed, when I suddenly stumbled forward, and fouud that I had unconsciously gone to sleep while sitting in fie chair. A deadly stupor and lethargy, such as I had never experienced before, seemed suddenly to weigh down both my body and brain. I got up, but could scarcely stand ; and when I attempted to walk I reeled forwards towards the bed like a drunken man, and sank with my head on the pillow, weighed down with a heaviness unspeakable, aDd knew nothing more. The coffee had undoubtedly been drugged.

How long I bad slept I cannot tell -whether hours or minutes only — when I suddenly found mys -If sitting up in bed, trembling with horror, and with a wild cry of agony ringing shrilly through my brain.

"Murder !"

The sharp intense cry- of one in dire extremity. Whose voice it was that gave utterance to it, and from what part of the house it proceeded, I could not tell ; I only knew that without any preliminary waking, as it seemed to me, I found myself sitting up in bed, staring, with wildly beating heart," into the intense darkness around me, not remembering for the moment where I was, my brnin still ringing with that terrible cry. But I had scarcely time to gather my scattered wits together, when, following quickly on theory, came the sound of a pistol-shot, evidently cloaa at hand ; then a heavy fall on the floor ; and then all was still. I had called to mind by this time where I was, and all the occurrences of the evening ; and on hearing the shot I leaped oub of bed and made for the door, and after groping about for a moment or two found it. I had locked the door before getting into bed, and now unfastened it ; but on attempting to open it found that I could not do so. It wns evidently fastened outside]; but for what purpose ? Had it been done to prevent me from going to the assistance of the pedlar? That cry, that pistol shot - poor Jacoby must have been murdered in his bed, and it would, doubt'ess, be my turn next. Dead men tell no tales.

I was without nrms, except a small clasp knife — a knife which I hail had when a school-lad, and still carried from loner hahib. This would probably be of little or no service in any coming encounter, but I got it ready nevertheless, tying my handkerchief round the haft so a; t> obinin a firmer grip. Nothing in the room that I -could have piled aerainst the door could have opposed or one moment fie entrance of any rue determined on roming in. -I examined the window ag.uu, hoping to find sufficient space between the bars to allow of my creeping through and dropping to the ground ; but the. hope proved futile. I groped my way back to the bod, and sat down on the edge of it. I trembled no long.;r. The first surprise was over, and although the suspense v\a* terrible, I prepared like a man to meet the worst that could happen to me. I felt very cold, chilled to the in irrow, so I laid down my knife for a moment, and wrapped my travelling plaid carefully round me My thoughts wandered Rway to my mother. How she would wonder what hal become of her boy, and sit at hotiie with sad p.ititnce, month after month, wait ins< to greet him who would never cross the threshold more ; but a litUe sob that burst inep^traibly from my heart warned mo not to give way, and recilledmy thoughts to the imminent danger b^fore me. Yes, I would sell my life dearly, if they did not shoot me down before 1 had time to mnUe one effort for my deliverance. But why did they not come? A deathlike silence re?gued through the house ; not a wMsper, not a footfall ; a silence and darkne-s as of Ihe Gravp, intense and horrible, not long to be borne without madness Was my bedroom door really fast 1 Had I, in my nervous ha«te, examined it sufficiently ts be sure of the fact I rose, mid groped my way to the door, and examined it carefully again, assuring myself this time tint it must really be secured on the other side. As I said before, there was a descent of two st^ps into the ro^ra; and, as I moved my bare fes-t along these steps in my efforts to open tho door, I <slid one of them into n cool liquid pool of something which was trickling slowlj' into the room. 1 fell back rack as though I hid been -shot. I was but a boy, rempmber, and scarcely reco.-ered from a long illness brought on by over-study : my nerves were still weak, and this last horror was more than I cduM bear. A sickue=s, as of death, ercpfc over me ; and I fell to the gioimd.

WliJn I recnined my consciousness the room was still quite datk ; but the outline of the window stood out, n frtint gray square, from the surrounding; blackness, and I knew that the blessed daylight was at hand. With a shudder I drew myself away from the door, away into the fmthsst corner of the room, and there crouched up ag.inst the wall, sat, expecting I knev not wha*-.

The terrible stillness which Ind oppressej mp so hoavily before, still reigned through the house. Not the faintest murmur of a voice, not the lighted fontfull on the floor, anywhere to be hear.l. Why had I been fastened up in thit gloomy room 1 Did they intend to leave me t'rere to starve 1 But for what purpose 1 What was to be gained by such a step ] What had become of Jacoby ? Was it he who had given utterance to that cry of agony in the dark ? I exhausted a thousand conjectures as I crouched in mv corner watching; tho dawn slowly brigbted, under which I knew a thin red «treatu was slowiy oozing I could s- c it a last, a shining patch on the il-rk rale ttep, where it ha-1 fallen dr»p by drop durin.- the long night hour". I could n t take my dyes off it, they seemed wr&led to it by a teriible fascinntion. 1 watched it while the <[ay broadened by imperceptible decrees. I got up after a time and went slowly towards it. I niusUry the door a«ain. Perhaps with daylight to assist me, I ra : «ht discover same mo.le of escape. Ah, what a groat d-fk patch still creeping slowly under the door ! Slowly I approached it. Nearer and nearer

Thank Hoaven ! not blo^d. but water !

In the revuMon of feeling caused by this discovery, I sank on my knees by tho sile of the bed, and burst into a pass-bn of sobs and tears ; and became thereby stronger and calmer, and again felt the sweet hopes of life nestle warmly round my heart.

f n again trying the door, which was strong and heavy, and made of dark old oak. I ascertained lor a fact that it was fastened outside ; the keyhole I found to be covert dby a pa te on the other Eide. I carefully examined the the window ones more, but the iron bars were too close and strong to afford me the slightest chanca that way. The chimney. too, nfter a glance, was abandoned as hopeless. That unaccountable stillness sti'l continued, it waiuow i broad day. I would brr ak it at any risk, happen what might. I went back to the door and shook it, and hallooed with all my strength, calling Jacoby and the landlord byname ; but there came no re pon'esave a few dull echoes, and when they died awny, silence fell on the place once more. There was a small semicircular openins: near the top of the door, probably int-nded originally as a means of ventilation to the room, aud while cu tin" about for some way of escape, the thought struck me that my getting on a rhnir and looking through the opening I might ascertain something that would ba' of service to me. Next moment I had placed one of the two rickety chairs close to the door, and mounting ib with caution, found that my eyes were exactly on a level with the opening. On looking through mv glance travers?d, first, the floor of the pas^ngi,' following the thread of water, and tracing it baok by degrees to the door of Jicoby's room, which, as stated before, was opposite mine, at the other <nd of the passage, and which, I now saw, as I followed the stream with my eyes was standing wide open. Having traced the line of water till it was lost behind the angle of the entrance to the pedlar's room, my glance

exactly oppogl'e the doorj and from tho drtsiilagvtfttyft went itp to an oval looking-glost piacfd thereon, ftad then stopped, sudden'y transfixed with horror at feeing the reflection of a gha>tly face staring intently at me from the glass. It was the face of Jacoby without doubt, so niuob, V I could clearly distinguish ; but although t' c eyes^ - were wide open, and staring with grim fixity of purpose ; and although the half-open iips seemed grinning at me in bitter derision ; it was none the less the face of a dead man. « That my poor friend had been foully murdered I could no longer doubt ; but how did it happen that I had escaped a similar fate 1 There was- the white faco, changeless and speechless; but beyond that all was conje:ture and vague surmise, I gofcdowi^ttently from my po3t of observation, feeling very sick at heart, and more overcome just then, I think, with nity for the sad fate of my friend, than with apprehension for what might happen to myself. Still that same deathlike and oppressive silence, bo that the buzzing of a fly on the window Bounded in the' stillness unnaturally loud arjd intrusive.

More impress- d than ever with the necessity for immediate action, I began, as soon as I had in some measure recovered form the effect of seeing the face in the glass, to cast about in my mind again for some means of effecting my escape. Pickine up my knife from the floor where it had lain neglected for some hours past, lat once set to work to try to cut away one of the panels of the stout old door ; but I broke my knife before I had been at work five minutes, and thtn gave up the attempt in despair. There was a 4readfnl fascination about that face in the glass which I found it impossible to resist, and standing on the chair, I azain looked through the opening in the door, and turned my eyes slowly towards it, half expecting to find that it had disappeared. But it was still there, as grim, ghastly, and- immovable as bpfore. The palid lips seemed to stir with inaudible words as I looked ; but the wide-open eye 3 stared ' steadfastly into mine with a glassy changclessness of expression that chilled my blood to look upon. Gathering heart somewhat after a time, I again went to work on the door with ray broken knife ; labouring on, hour after hour, with weaiylng persistency, but making such small progress that had I not felt that my life depended on the success of my efforts, I should have given up the task a hundred times in despair. Noon came and went, A dull gnawing pain began to make itself felt, which I knew proceeded from the want of food, though hunger in the ordinary sense of the word I did not feel ; I began to get weaker", too, as the afternoon advanced, and to kbor like a man in a dream. I think that after a time I must have fallen into a kind of stupor, induced by weariness and exhaustion, ns I sat before the door with my' head re=ting in my hands. When I came to myself again, I found that the wind had risen, and that the first shades of evening were beginning to creep into the room. I stood up, weary,' rick, and faint and heart, and asked myself how it would H possible to live through another night all alone in that terrible house. I calculated that even with daylight and my full strength, it would have been a work of several hours to cut my way out ; and now both daylight and j strength were failing me rapidly. A dull lowering evening, with rain and heary wlni. Hark ! whnt a blast wa9 that I it seemed to shake the rickety old house to Ha foundations, making the floors creak, and the win(?owß rattle, and the whole tumble-down edifice to shiver and groan in the grasp of its invisible arms. Suddenly I was startled by the., clashing of some distant door ; then there was a faint rustle and whisper up the stairs and along ths passage, as though the ghost of the murdered man wore corntae back to revisit its tenement ; ' then the strong gust outside swept swiftly away down the valley inland ; and a brief lull followed. "It was needful that I should look once more on the' face in the glass while there was still sufficient daylight l«ft to see it by. I felt drawn to do this by some inward necessity, some occult magnetism working against my better nature. What, ( then was my surprise and horror when, on looking once more through the opening in the door, and staring steadfastly into the glais, I saw that it was blank—that, the face was no longer there !

I looked and looked again, but with the same result ; the face had certainly disappeared : the glass reflected nothing but the opposite wall of the room, and part of the furniture of a bed. The blood round my heart grew cold a3 l looked ; I got off tha chair, and went and sat down in the corner of tha : room farthest from the door, and peered fearfully into the gathering gloom ; struggling hard to crush d6Wa the dim ghostly fancies, and vngue hauutings of terror, which began to troop wildly around me, and claim me for their own. Whither had that white face vanished 1 I kept on asking myself the question ajain and again. Iv the first strangeness of the discovery I had flung aside my broken knife, and I now felt an utter and invincible disinclination to rige from that far corner, search for it on the floor, and resume my labors on the door. How suddenly the evening had darkened! Was that a hand wJiich touched my cheek in the dusk ) Who*e hand f. And hush! was not that a whimper— a rustle close beside me 1 ? Would the floor creak so loudly unless { «om4 one whom I could noi s-2e were walking across itt^ Above the loud howling of the wind, I heard wild shrieks of demoniac laughter. There, were abroad that night, suoh as the daylight never lookei upon. They called me by name they shouted to me to join them ; and far away, along the flinty hiirh-road, I heard mon of them coming with- a quick tramp. They were mounted on their demon steeds, ami they would carry me away with them out of that terrible house, and should gallop all night with the storm.

Be still ye throbbing pulsss ! Grant me j^ moment's re3pite —give me time for one last prayer, ere sense and reason desert me altogether!

Louder and leu ler came the tramp of the horses : no demon steeds those, but veritable animals of flesh an! blood. A minute of terrible suspense, and then I heard a loud knicking at th? front door, and the confused sound of several voices all talking at' once. The first knock dissipated t"io<e weird cobweb fancies of an over- wrought brain, which had held tne power-lf-8s but a moment before. I sprang to the window, flung open the easement, and cried aloud for help. I know not what I sad, but next moment, as it seemed to me. I }aw myself surrounded by a half-a-dozen kindly face &, and felt Unit I was safe.

Mv rescuers proved to be a rartyof jovial farmers, returning from a distant fair. In a few biief sentences, I gave them an outline of my story— a story which received a ghastly confirmation when they entered tha pedlar's room Both Jacoby and the treacherous landlord lay djad the latter in a corner of the room, close to an overturned water-jag, with a bullet through his ba in ; holding in one hand a long, shaip bowie knife, and a dark lantern in the other. Jucoby *as in the bad, in a haif sitting posture, stabbed to t T ie heart ; holding, firmly clenched in oue hand, the pistol with which, in the one last moment granted him on earth, ha had wrought such swift vengeance on his n urderer. When 'we ent red the faca of Jacohy was invisible— hidden from us by the loose, dimity curtain, which hung from the head ot the bel; and which the wind, when it bu-st *pen the badly-secured cis'inent, and rushed into tho room, had liftel up, nn I flung tenderly over the dead rrmu's face, as if in reverent pity at so sad a spectacle. The bed stjod just behind the angle of the entrance into the room ; and from the position of the body, the face, when nncovered, was fully reflected in the oval glasj, which stoo.l on the dressing-table, nearly opposite the foot of the bed. A further examination revealed that both the pedlar's box and pockets h-id been rifbd of their contents. This, evi-. denty, could not have been the work of the landlord, His career ha-\ been cut short too soon for thai, whatever his ultimate intention niiaht have been. The robbery was, therefore, sot down as the work of the mulatto wnmin aid the young savage, and steps were at once taken to procure their arrest, which desirable consummation was effected some three weeks later at Liverpool, as they were about to embark for Austra'ia. Some of tho property of the murderer! n>au was f N unl in their possession. t The womaifa veision of the aft'iir was as follows :—,: — , t ■ Mho stated, that she wai awnk^ncd sometime in the night by a loud cry of. "Harder!" quickly foliow&l by a pistol shot, and a beavy fall. That being too friehtenel to get out of bed, she lay traiublinsr, and listening for ' more than an hour, after which she summoned sufficient courage to creep stealthily out of the house, and make lr r way to the loft over tho stable, where the young; savage slept ; that together they had, after a t<me. venture! up-slairs, where thoy found both Jacoby and the landlord d^ad. 1 his must have occurred while I lay insensible in the room. That thereupon, they hal loided them3elve3 with the property of the dead may, and absconded together. As th?re was no evidence to prove any complicity on their part in tho murder, tl.eir version of thi affair waa ci::sihr>-d as the c6rrent oue, and punishment tneled out to them accordingly." , 1 may just say, in co clnsion, tkaUt was aftesv wards discovered by the police that the landlord of the, lonely mn wa3 a notorious forger of whom they had' long been 111 searoh-a mm originally of some education and breeding, hut whose numerous misdeeds had at length made im ordinary haunts so hot'for him. that he found it advisable to withdraw himself for* year or two from piiblio notice, And bury hia talents in the distant wilds of Cornwall.

A French sergeant, writing foam Mexico to bis mend*, cnlJa the graveyard at Orizaba, "noire jardin d acchmatation." D<\ Henry Wyl3e has been elected to the chair of Professor of Music nt Gresbaui College, in the room of ProfeS'-or E tward Taylor, deceased. ;< The people of Belfast intend to erect a stalely clock tower aa the local memorial to the late Prinoa Consort. At a preliminary meeting 'LlOQO has be«u subscribed, and the corporation have agreed to present the clock. . " ' ' A Good Investment.— .The fnads for (he relief of the Lancashire distress. . , - ' - Printed for the Proprietors by Dahibi. Cakpbbu, at the Otago Witkbm OWk^ Rifl&s-fitnet.