Puck — May 1, 1878 — page 13: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

PUCK. the second night from the one of the panto- mime. x At the appointed time the detective came, He again assumed the dress and wig, and I ap- plied the color to his face; then with the cloak and hat worn on the previous night he was ready, with this addition that he had at my suggestion provided himself with a piece of wood and cord fashioned into a likeness of the instrument used in strangling the old man. This night, instead of turning down the street at the back of the Inn, we kept on to the right for about three hundred yards. The ground rose slightly as we went. We stopped at the door of a lofty building on the right- hand side. Telling Bracken to keep his back to the door, I rang loudly. In a few minutes the door was opened by a low-sized man. He had remarkably long, pow- erful arms. His head was so much thrust for- ward that one could not see his full face. A round hump stood between his shoulder-blades, explaining the peculiar carriage of the head. What could be seen of his face was thin and yellow, and in no way tended to counterba- lance the defects uf his figure. ‘The moment the door was fully opened I stepped in, saying: “T have come to see those rooms now. Can you show them to me ?—you remember, I was here to-day, and you said you required an order from the agent. ‘This is the order. I told you I should not be able to come until about midnight.” He took the order, and read it by the light of the candle he carried. ‘It’s a most unrea- sonable time to come looking at rooms,” he answered sulkily, ‘‘ but you can see them. You want to see all on the top floor 2” “Yes,” He closed the door, and I followed him down the spacious hall until we got to the foot of the stairs. ‘Then I stopped suddenly and asked, “ Will you allow a man who is with me to stand in while we go up?” He gave a grumbling assent, and_ began slowly and ill-humoredly going upstairs. I went to the door, admitted Bracken, and tell- ing him to take a seat, followed my conductor. ‘The house was one of those enormous struc- tures lately raised in the Holborn district. No one slept in it but this man, the care-taker. It was intended for offices, and many of the lower rooms had already been let. But the highest floor, the sixth, was still idle, and thither we were now going. When we gained the summit, I began my in- spection. I walked deliberately through all the front rooms, but did not pause in any of them. In the back there were five rooms, all of similar size. As we went through these I paused frequently and looked out of the win- dows. It was a clear bright night. When we came to the last door he paused and said: “That's my room. That's where I sleep. You do not want to see that. It's exactly the same as the others.” “ I should like to see that room,” I answered. With elaborate reluctance he opened the door. I crossed the threshold and closed the door after me. It was a square, white room, having one large window without blind or curtain. The furni- ture consisted of three old wooden chairs, an iron bedstead, a small square deal table, and a little press. On the chimney-piece were a to- bacco-jar, a match-box, a piece of looking- glass, a candlestick, a telescope which had seen much service, and a hammer. A lamp burned on the table. To the undisguised annoyance and surprise of the hunchback, I took a seat, observing that it was a long way up. His astonishment deprived him of the power of speech. After a little while he moved to the side of the bed, sat down with a sigh, and uttered in a tone of overtaxed patience the monosyllable “ Well!” then he blew out the candle and resumed his stare. “There’s a good view from this window in the daytime?” I asked. “You can see a bit.” “ And a good view at night ?” “You can’t see much in the dark.” “Oh! yes, you can, if there’s light at the other end of the darkness, you know.” “Eh!” he cried, drawing himself up, and looking, straight into my face with an expres- sion of hatred paralyzed by fear. “Twas saying,” I carelessly repéated, “ that one can see a good distance through the dark, provided there is a light at the other end of the darkness.” “* What has that to do with you taking a room here?” There was a dangerous glare in his eyes, and I thought I saw them fasten for a moment on the hammer, and I know he clenched his right hand fiercely. “Not much,” again carelessly, as I rose and went towards the window. He never moved anything but his eyes; I could feel them cling- ing to me like a wind. I went on, as I looked into the night:—‘ Why, I can see a great deal, although it is night. What strange things a man could see here with a glass!” I turn round and lookec at the telescope on the man- tel-piece. His eyes fled from me to the ham- mer. I crossed the room and returned to the window with the glass. I raised it and pointed it down, As I did so, I heard him stealthily cross the floor and saw him seize the hammer. ‘Then he came close to me, holding the weapon in his right hand behind him. “What can you see?” he whispered, half in fury, half in terror. Keeping my eye upon him, although affect- ing to follow the direction of the tube, I con- tinued, “I can see into several rooms of houses down there.” He retreated a pace, brought his right hand in front, settled his fingers on the handle, and then drew them round it with such force that the fingers grew deadly white. ‘“ Well?” he whispered. I went oa, “Ha! what have I now? An old man, a miser evidently, sitting on the floor of a mean room. The board is raised. He is looking into the hole and running gold through his fingers. A loud noise made me turn around. The hammer had fallen from his nerveless hand, his mouth was wide open, and his dilated eyes were glaring at me out of his yellow terror- stricken face. “Ts ¢ there again to-night?” “Take the glass and look,” I whispered, at the same moment tapping the floor with my foot. He caught the telescope in his palsied hands, and, after ineffectual attempts to fix it, let it fall with a whine of agony, whispering, “I can't see it to-night, but I did the other night.” As he staggered across the floor, he uttered a hideous yell of despair, and fell to the ground insensible. He had seen the counterfeit of the old man standing at the open door holding out to him the instrument by which he had ef- fected his crime. WawkEeNn MILL ‘oing to Paris, and the government of the United States is making ar- rangements for holding this side of the world down when the Corsair steps ashore at Calais. —Hawkeye. Berore the modern burglar thinks of ‘‘crack- ing” a modern savings bank, he first ascertains who the directors are. Under certain circum- stances he knows there are no assets available for his particular use.--V. Y. Matt. : Sa >s , Puck's Fiechanges. Hyatmar Hyjort Boyesen is to mjarry a New Yjork Ijady.— Boston Post, ‘Tue time to buy a new hat—when the band begins to play.— Cincinnati Saturday Night. Emma ApsoTT wants to be cremated. The singer deserves to be singed.— Phila, Kronikle- Herald. Ir is probable that Plymouth Church will respond by raising Beecher’s .salary.— Boston Post. “Every cloud has a silver lining.” Would we could say the same of our purses.—, Y. Mail. How to manage a menagerie. In winter stable’em. In summer, Barnum.— Philadelphia Bulletin, A Soutuern paper refers to Colonel Delancey Kane as “as one of the most popular hackmen in New York.” Tue counterfeit silver dollar may be detected by the superior workmanship of the engraving. —Chicago Journal. ‘Tue lightning-rod swindlers will soon begin to operate. Spare the rod—but kill the agent. —Danieisonville Sentinel, Ir is scarcely possible that General Grant desires a third term. He trusts himself in the American navy.— Chicago Times. Ir has lately transpired that the fellow who struck William Patterson was an Ohio man.— . Cincinnati Saturday Night. Wuen Edison turns his inventive hand to music, he will undoubtedly make Charity begin to hum.—Brooklyn Union. As May is ‘the month of Mary,” why not call it by the longer name, just for the benefit of the oyster trade ?—. Y. Mail, Ciara Louise KeLtoce says she will never marry. Soall you fellows may come out of your hiding places,— Hartford Courant, ‘Tere is a proverb which says that “capital is timid.” We realize its truthfulness. It is afraid to come near us.—. Y. Mai?. J. Mapison Weuts is again hanging around Washington. Wonder how tying an oyster-can to his tail would work ?— Xronikle-Herald, TiLion calls Elizabeth as ‘white a souled woman as ever lived;” but the lady describes herself as a little off color.— Chicago Zribune. Tue hand-organ man is in full bloom Drenching this plant with boiling water is said to cause it to wither and dry up.—Xronikie- Herald.- ‘Tuere is a difference in milkmaids; the milk made in the country is not the same as the milk made in the city.—Brookiyn Union- Argus, Sanp is so scarce in some of the interior counties that the people are obliged to boil up “new maple sugar” for building purposes.— Hawkeye, An effort is to be made to remonetize ‘Old Hundred.” How it will sound when your clergyman says, ‘Please sing Old Ninety Two.” — Whitehall Times. comicbooks.com