GRACE VERNON'S VISIONS.

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 17, Issue 92, 24 November 1903, Page 2

GRACE VERNON'S VISIONS.

The incidents forming the network of the following singular story occurred under my own observations, so I shall use the first person in relating them. Grace Vernon was a dreamer. Perhaps I «m too matter-of-fact to appreciate a nature like his, but as much as I esteemed him it was often a bore to have him come into my office and sit for an hour at a time in a semisleeping state to suddenly spring to his feefr exclaiming: "By Jove! I almost caught it!" " Caught what ?" I would ask, if I noticed his exclamation enough to speak, for it got so common at last that I was apt to ignore him.

" Why, the fairest sc?n<s a man ever gazed upon. It seemed a tropical garden tocmiug "

" Bosh, Grace "—he had been given his mother's maiden name—"you have been dreaming as usual." " I tell you, Wald, it wa* no dream. One of the fairest spots on earth seemed to float before my eyes, only there was a sort of atmospheric haze partially obscuring my vision. Bub I see clearer each time. I believe the time will come when I can sit at home and gaze on scenes far away." At another time he would see aome person, and'one day I remember of hearing him exclaim as he recovered from a trance-like spell: "By Jove, isn't she beautiful? Ah ! that woman shall be my wife if I have to search the world over to find her."

" What nonsense has come over your brain now, Grace?" I asked, for he was more than commonly excited. " The loveliest woman I ever saw, Wald. Let me describe her. She was tall and fair, with a form of willowy suppleness and a {tensive, languid look that I shall never forget, I met my fate." " Yes, bub where will you look for her?" "I will find her; I must! It was a country scene in which she stood, though to be honest I did nofc notice her surroundings very much, I was so entranced with her. One thing 1 did notice. There was a house standing on the shore of a sheet of water, dotted here and there wibli sail boats. It was a summer resort on one of our lakes, I am sure." I saw less of Grace for the next three months than heretofore, and casually I learned he wag out of town the mosto of the time.

Some time in September he rusher! into my office, exclaiming in his impetuous way — "Congratulate me, old follow. My prophecy lias come true and I am the happiest mortal in the seven States."

At first I could nob imagine what he meant, bub when hebeo:iine calmer I learned that lie had found the object of his dreams ; that she had proved all he had pictured', and that his wild love for her was reciprocated. " Perhaps you will laugh at me again," he cried. "My vision came true in every respect, as I expected it- would. She was 'stopping- at a resort on Lake George, but her house is in Oldham, Mass. I want you •to see her.

"The best of it is phe believes that I saw ; her on that afternoon, and she says she felt that some invisible person was looking at ;her She has even had visions herself, though nob so far advanced as mine. I tell you, with such a sympathetic associate as 'she, who can tell what may nob come to 'pass?" He was in no condition to receive advice from me then, and all that winter he seemed crazed with his love. He was never happy unless talking of his Dura, and he claimed that if he wanted to see her at any time all lie had to do was to go into one of his trances. I tried to reason with him, and to show what the result must be if he continued to give way to this mental excitement. In the spring, at his urgent request, I accompanied him on a visit to the house of his/emcee.

It was a pretty place, and I judged that her folks were in comfortable circumstances. Dura Howard, as I had anticipated, was of that same dreamy, melancholy cast of mind as Grace Vernon. I was sorry to find this so, as I oould see only evil to come from such a union.

She had a brother, older than she, who was her opposite, being of a lively, excitable nature."

My stay at Oldham was made very pleasant, and I went away very favourably impressed with the Howards and with my friend's choice for a wife. The course of true love seemed to run very smoothly, and there was nothing worthy of my record until the last of May, when i)ura Howard's brother rushed into my office and asked me where Grace Vernon was stopping. I told him ; then I asked for the folks.

" Is it possible that you are not aware that Dura has left home, and none of us know where she has gone ?" ■ I assured him that such was the case, and furthermore I could not see how he should think I was. " But she went off with that friend of yours. Let me find him and he'll give a satisfactory explanation, or he'll know the reason why." He was fearfully excited, and I tried to pacify him with poor success. It seemed that a little after sunset the day before he and his father and mother had seen Dura leave the house to meet her lover at the gate. Though he had nob been expected by them, nothing strange was thought of the visit, and no uneasiness was felt over her absence, until the evening began to grow late and she did not return. In the midst of our conversation Grace entered, and, though surprised at Mr. Howard's unexpected presence, he greeted him cordially. " Where's Dura ?" he cried fiercely. "At home well, and—my God, Tom ! has anything happened-to her?" ""Vou should know of all others, and unless you explain this outrageous affair satisfactorily I'll take the matter into my own hands."

Through my interference violent action was averted, and when I oxplained the situation Grace was as surprised as I had been.

" Why, I haven't been out of town for a week, and I can prove it by-your friend here."

I could assert that he certainly could not have been in Oldham at the time of Dura's disappearance, as he was in my office at the very hour." "What has been Dura's fate, then?" gasped Tom Howard. This was a startling question towards th« solution of which we could offer no suggestion.

Grace was fairly wild with grief. He would not believe she had gone off voluntarily. If not she must have L .en abducted.

I learned from her brother that she had no former lover, and was not known to have an enemy. It was a singular case of disappearance. Someone had met her at the gate so nearly like Grace Vernon that three witnesses had been deceived, though they had seen the man's face as plainly as the gathering dusk would permit. A rapid and rigid search followed, but at the end of the week we were as much in the dark regarding Dura Howard's fate as ever. In that time Grace Vernon had grown haggard and wild-eyed. • I could see that he would not long withstand the suspense. I tried to reason with him in vain.

Another week passed and still no tidings from the missing one. Her parents were nearly heartbroken and were beginning to lose hope The first morning of the third week Gmc« came rushing into my office crying—- " I have seen her ! I have seen her!"

As soon as I coald get him calm enough to

talk undcrstandingly I loarned thafe heliad seen her in a vision the night before. " 1 saw her as plainly as I see you now,' be said. " She was standing at the window

"Now, Mr. Purvis," said Varnoe, "will you point) out to me the clothes usually wern by Mr, Sharon while on duty at the store ?" " Certainly, sir," replied bh« gentleman, "that is easily done," and he went to the closet where the clerks kept their outer garments. He examined the clothing with gasps of surprise. " What is it ?" said Varnoe, when Mr. Purvis laid the garments on the bed. "As I live, Sharon has not only left his coat and vest behind, but his pants as well," said Mr. Purvis, in bewildermenb.

"That is singular said the detective, exchanging glanced with the physician. "It is rabher puzzling, in facb, when you bear in mind that Mr. Yerkes, when found, was fully dressed, while the thief left his pants behind," pointing to a pair beneath the bed. " You will please see whether Mr. Sharon left anything valuable in his pockets." Every pocket was examined. There was found a valuable watch and chain, a trifle over five dollars in a wallet, a penknife, pencil, memorandum, etc, etc. •' Retain tliose article, Mr. Purvis, and hang the garments up," said the clciectivo. " I have another surprise here."

Varnoe removed the bedclothes, leaving the mattress bare. A number of bloody finger marks stained it along a seam ten inches in length. " I see what you are driving at," cried Purvis, as he scanned the seam. "You mean that the thief has hidden his plunder in the mattress."

" I bhink so, at all events,'' was the reply, as he ripped the seam with his knife. Inserting his hand, he drew forth the packagesof greenbacks.; They were intact, Mr. Purvis said,after examining tbe-seals. "I don't know what to think," said the gentleman, hopelessly. " I declare my head aches trying to divine the motive for this most extraordinary crime."

"Think as I do." "Whatis thab?"

"Why, that Sharon, insbead of being bhe thief, is the thief's victim, which accounts for his leaving his outer garments behind. He evidently surprised the rascal, and in a tussle with him he murdered Sharon, dragged him across the street and threw him into the river."

"Then you really expect Ycrkes is the thief?" asked the merchant, greatly agitated. " I am sure he is not only the thief, but a probably murderer also." "Oh, the wretch!" cried the merchant, passionately, "and in my heart I admired his bravery, while I pitied him for what he had endured in endeavouring to protect my property. lam perfectly convinced that you have hit on the right man," continued Mr. Purvis. "If he knew of this he mighb give us the slip. The next thing bo be done is bo use every means in our power to recover the body of poor Sharon." "Poor, indeed, since all the clothes he has on his back are not his own," spoke a voice from behind them.

All looked at the speaker, who wore an old seaman's suit, and looked as though he had just recovered from a severe fib of sickness.

Something in the tone of his voice struck a chord in the breast of the merchant. He approached bhe man and asked eagerly :■— " Who are you ?"

"My name is Pembroke Sharon."

'"' In a moment he was surrounded by the brio, who congrabulated him on his escape from deabh. He requesbed p*rivn»««n bo assume his proper dress, after which.he would fcellexaebly whab had occurred during the past night. His story was very similar to the one told by Yerkes, with this difference—the positions were changed. It was Sharon who surprised the other in front of the open safe in the acb of stowing in hie pockets the greenbacks alluded to. lb was Sharon who denounced bhe acb, and Yerkes, hobh angry and frightened to be thus detected, picked up a paper weight and hurled ib at his fellow clerk, striking Sharon on the head, inflicting a ghastly wound, from which he fainted, and knew no more until he awoke on board a vessel near the navy yard. He was told bhafc bhey picked him up in the river.

The captain and his two men had been to the theatre, and were returning in a boat to bhe vessel, when a white object floating on the water attracted their abbenbion, and bhey made for it and drew bhe apparently dead man inbo the boafe and took him on board bhe vessel, where his wants were at once attended to. When Yerkes' version was related to him he laughed derisively, and was on the point of making a remark when familiar footsbeps were heard ascending the sbair. "By Heaven, I believe it is August Yerkes!" whispered Sharon, as he hastily entered the closet and closed the door. . He was none too soon, for the next moment Yerkes walked briskly up to where the three men sbood.' Somebhing in their faces told him something was amiss—something to his disadvantage, too. " You are probably surprised to see me here again," remarked he, for wanb of somebhing else bo say. "We are indeed !" replied Mr. Purvis, regarding him with an ominous look. " You all appear to be anything bub pleased to see me,"nexb remarked bhe robber and would-be assassin.

" On .bhe conbrary, we are very glad to see you," spoke bhe debecbive, wibh an ambiguous smile.

Glancing ab bhe debecbive wibh a scepbical air, Yerkes walked to bhe closet and opened bhe door, and bhe nexb moment he uttered, a fearful shriek and started back with his hair standing on end, and his face the colour of ashes.

He had seen (as his guilty conscience told him) the ghost of his victim, for Sharon remained in the closet," perfectly immovable, his eyes fixed on the guilty wretch. The horrid vision was too; much for his brain to endure. Yerkes became a raging maniac from that moment, and became so violent that the detective was obliged to manacle him hand and foot and Again take him to the hospital, from whence he was shortly afterward conveyed to the insane department of the almshouse. Pembroke Sharon was generously recompensed by his employer for his heroic attempt to prevent the robbery, and promoted to a responsible position in the store, which he filled with credit both to himself and his grateful employer. Yerkes lived about a year after his confinement, and died a raving maniac ; a terrible retribution for hisattempt to fasten the crime on an innocent person.