The 415 Express by Amelia B. Edwards This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Read by Paul Allerton, United Kingdom, 20 April 2007 The 415 Express. The events which I am about to relate took place between nine and ten years ago. Sebastopol had fallen in the early spring, but the peace of Paris had been concluded since March. Our commercial relations with the Russian Empire were but recently renewed, and I, returning home after my first northward journey since the war, was well pleased with the prospect of spending the month of December under the hospitable and thoroughly English roof of my excellent friend Jonathan Jelf, Esquire, of Dumbledon Manor, Claiborah East Anglia. Traveling in the interests of the well-known firm in which it is my lot to be a junior partner, I had been called upon to visit not only the capitals of Russia and Poland, but had found it also necessary to pass some weeks among the trading ports of the Baltic. Whence it came that the year was already far spent before I again set foot on English soil, and that instead of shooting pheasants with him as I had hoped in October, I came to be my friend's guest during the more genial Christmas tide. My journey over, and a few days given up to business in Liverpool and London, I hastened down to Claiborah with all the delight of a schoolboy whose holidays are at hand. My way lay by the great East Anglia line as far as Claiborah station, where I was to be met by one of the Dumbledon carriages and conveyed across the remaining nine miles of country. It was a foggy afternoon, singularly warm for the 4th of December, and I had arranged to leave London by the 4.15 express. The early darkness of winter had already closed in, the lamps were lighted in the carriages, a clinging damp dimmed the windows, adhered to the door handles and pervaded all the atmosphere, while the gas jets at the neighbouring book stand diffused a luminous haze that only served to make the gloom of the terminus more visible. Having arrived some seven minutes before the starting of the train and by the connivance of the guard taken sole possession of an empty compartment, I lighted my travelling lamp, made myself particularly snug and settled down to the undisturbed enjoyment of a book and a cigar. Great, therefore, was my disappointment, when at the last moment a gentleman came hurrying along the platform, glanced into my carriage, opened the locked door with a private key, and stepped in. It struck me at the first glance that I had seen him before, a tall, spare man, thin-lipped, light-eyed, with an ungraceful stoop in the shoulders and scant grey hair worn somewhat long upon the collar. He carried a light, waterproof coat, an umbrella, and a large, brown, japan'd deed-box, which last he placed under the seat. This done, he felt carefully in his breast pocket, as if to make certain of the safety of his purse or pocket-book, laid his umbrella in the netting overhead, spread the waterproof across his knees, and exchanged his hat for a travelling cap of some scotch material. By this time, the train was moving out of the station and into the faint grey of the wintry twilight beyond. I now recognised my companion. I recognised him from the moment when he removed his hat and uncovered the lofty, furrowed, and somewhat narrow brow beneath. I had met him, as I distinctly remembered some three years before, at the very house for which in all probability he was now bound, like myself. His name was Dwerihouse. He was a lawyer by profession, and, if I was not greatly mistaken, was first cousin to the wife of my host. I knew also that he was a man eminently well-to-do, both as regarded his professional and private means. The Jelfs entertained him with that sort of observant courtesy, which falls to the lot of the rich relation. The children made much of him, and the old butler, albeit somewhat surly to the general, treated him with deference. I thought, observing him by the vague mixture of lamplight and twilight, that Mrs Jelf's cousin looked all the worse for the three years' wear and tear which had gone over his head since our last meeting. He was very pale, and had a restless light in his eye that I did not remember to have observed before. The anxious lines, too, about his mouth, were deepened, and there was a cavernous hollow look about his cheeks and temples which seemed to speak of sickness or sorrow. He had glanced at me as he came in, but without any gleam of recognition in his face. Now he glanced again, as I fancied, somewhat doubtfully. When he did so for the third or fourth time, I ventured to address him. Mr John Dwerihouse, I think. That is my name, he replied. I had the pleasure of meeting you at Dumbleton about three years ago. Mr Dwerihouse bowed. I thought I knew your face, he said, but your name, I regret to say, Langford William, Langford, William Langford. I have known Jonathan Gelf since we were boys together at Merchant Taylor's, and I generally spend a few weeks at Dumbleton in the shooting season. I suppose we are bound for the same destination. Not if you are on your way to the manner, he replied, I am travelling upon business, rather troublesome business, too, while you doubtless have only pleasure in view. Just so, I am in the habit of looking forward to this visit as to the brightest three weeks in all the year. It is a pleasant house, said Mr Dwerihouse, the pleasantest I know, and Gelf is thoroughly hospitable, the best and kindness fellow in the world. They have invited me to spend Christmas week with them, pursued Mr Dwerihouse after a moment's pause. And you are coming? I cannot tell. It must depend on the issue of this business which I have in hand. You have heard perhaps that we are about to construct a branch line from Blackwater to Stockbridge. I explained that I had been away for some months away from England, and had therefore heard nothing of the contemplated improvement. Mr Dwerihouse smiled complacently. It will be an improvement, he said, a great improvement. Stockbridge is a flourishing town and needs but a more direct railway communication with the metropolis to become an important centre of commerce. This branch was my own idea. I brought the project before the board and have myself superintended the execution of it up to the present time.  My interest in the company, replied Mr Dwerihouse, is threefold. I am a director, I am a considerable shareholder, and as head of the firm of Dwerihouse, Dwerihouse and Crac, I am the company's principal solicitor. Loquatius, self-important, full of his pet project, and apparently unable to talk on any other subject, Mr Dwerihouse then went on to tell of the opposition he had encountered and the obstacles he had overcome in the cause of the Stockbridge branch. I was entertained with a multitude of local details and local grievances. The rapacity of one squire, the impractic ability of another, the indignation of the rector whose gleeb was threatened, the culpable indifference of the Stockbridge townspeople, who could not be brought to see that their most vital interests hinged upon a junction with the great East Anglian line. The spite of the local newspaper and the unheard of difficulties attending the common question were each and all laid before me with a circumstantiality that possessed the deepest interest for my excellent fellow traveller, but none, whatever, for myself. For these, to my despair, he went on to more intricate matters, to the approximate expenses of construction per mile, to the estimates sent in by different contractors, to the probable traffic returns of the new line, to the provisional clauses of the new act, as enumerated in schedule D of the company's last half-yearly report, and so on and on and on, till my head ached and my attention flagged and my eyes kept closing in spite of every effort that I made to keep them open. At length I was roused by these words, £75,000 cash down, £75,000 cash down I repeated in the liveliest tone I could assume, that is a heavy sum. A heavy sum to carry here, replied Mr Dwerrihaus, pointing significantly to his breast pocket, but a mere fraction of what we shall ultimately have to pay. You do not mean to say that you have £75,000 at this moment upon your person, I exclaimed. My good sir, have I not been telling you so, for the last half-hour, said Mr Dwerrihaus, testily, that money has to be paid over at half-past eight o'clock this evening, at the office of Sir Thomas of Solicitors on completion of the deed of sale. But how would you get a cross by night from Blackwater to Stockbridge with £75,000 in your pocket? To Stockbridge, echoed the lawyer, I find I have made myself very imperfectly understood. I thought I had explained how this sum only carries us as far as Malingford, the first stage, as it were, of our journey, and how our route from Blackwater to Malingford lies entirely through Sir Thomas Liddell's property. I beg your pardon, I stammered. I fear my thoughts were wandering, so you only go as far as Malingford tonight. Precisely, I shall get a conveyance from the Blackwater Arms. And you? Oh, Jelf sends a trap to meet me at Clabora. Can I be the bearer of any message from you? You may say, if you please, Mr Langford, that I wished I could have been your companion all the way, and that I will come over if possible before Christmas. Nothing more? Mr Dwerrihouse smiled grimly. Well, he said, you may tell my cousin that she need not burn the hall down in my honour this time, and that I shall be obliged if she will order the blue room chimney to be swept before I arrive. That sounds tragic. Had you a conflagration on the occasion of your last visit to Dumbledon? Something like it. There had been no fire lighted in my bedroom since the spring. The flu was foul, and the rooks had built in it.  Are we already at Blackwater? The train had gradually come to a pause while Mr Dwerrihouse was speaking, and on putting my head out of the window, I could see the station some few hundred yards ahead. There was another train before us blocking the way, and the guard was making use of the delay to collect the Blackwater tickets. I had scarcely ascertained our position when the ruddy-faced official appeared at our carriage door. Tickets, sir, said he. I am for Clebra, I replied, holding out the tiny pink card. He took it, glanced at it by the light of his little lantern, gave it back, looked as I fancied somewhat sharply at my fellow traveller, and disappeared. He did not ask for yours, I said, with some surprise. They never do, replied Mr Dwerrihouse. They all know me, and of course I travel free. Blackwater, Blackwater, cried the porter, running along the platform beside us as we glided into the station. Mr Dwerrihouse pulled out his deed-box, put his travelling cap in his pocket, resumed his hat, took down his umbrella, and prepared to be gone. Many thanks, Mr Langford, for your society, he said, with old-fashioned courtesy. I wish you a good evening. Good evening, I replied, putting out my hand. But he either did not see it or did not choose to see it, and slightly lifting his hat stepped out upon the platform. Having done this, he moved slowly away and mingled with the departing crowd. Leaning forward to watch him out of sight, I trod upon something which proved to be a cigar case. It had fallen no doubt from the pocket of his waterproof coat, and was made of dark Morocco leather with a silver monogram upon the side. I sprang out of the carriage just as the guard came up to lock me in. Is there one minute to spare, I asked eagerly, the gentleman who travelled down with me from town has dropped his cigar case. He is not yet out of the station. Just a minute and a half, sir, replied the guard, you must be quick. I dashed along the platform as fast as my feet could carry me. It was a large station, and Mr Dwerrihouse had by this time got more than halfway to the farther end. I, however, saw him distinctly, moving slowly with the stream. Then, as I drew nearer, I saw that he had met some friend, that they were talking as they walked, that they presently fell back somewhat from the crowd and stood aside in earnest conversation. I made straight for the spot where they were waiting. There was a vivid gas jet just above their heads, and the light fell full upon their faces. I saw both distinctly the face of Mr Dwerrihouse and the face of his companion. Running breathless, eager as I was, getting in the way of porters and passengers, fearful every instant, lest I should see the train going on without me, I yet observed that the newcomer was considerably younger and shorter than the director, that he was sandy-haired, mustached, small-featured, and dressed in a close-cut suit of scotch tweed. I was now within a few yards of them. I ran against a stout gentleman. I was nearly knocked down by a luggage truck. I stumbled over a carpet bag. I gained the spot just as the driver's whistle told me to return. To my utter stupor faction, they were no longer there. I had seen them but two seconds before, and they were gone. I stood still. I looked to right and left. I saw no sign of them in any direction. It was as if the platform had gaped and swallowed them. There were two gentlemen standing here a moment ago. I said to a porter at my elbow, which way can they have gone? I saw no gentleman say, replied the man. The whistle shrilled out again. The guard far up the platform, held up his arm, and shouted to me to come on. If you're going on by this train, sir, said the porter, you must move. You must run for it. I did run for it. Just gained the carriage as the train began to move. We shoved in by the guard and left breathless and bewildered with Mr Dwerrihouse's cigar case still in my hand. It was the strangest disappearance in the world. It was like a transformation trick in a pantomime. They were there one moment, palpably there, walking, with the gaslight full upon their faces, and the next moment they were gone. There was no door near, no window, no staircase. It was a mere slip of barren platform, tapestreed with big advertisements. Could anything be more mysterious? It was not worth thinking about, and yet, from my point of view, it was the strangest disappearance in the world. It was like a transformation trick in a pantomime. It was not worth thinking about, and yet, for my life, I could not help pondering upon it. Pondering, wondering, conjecturing, turning it over and over in my mind, and beating my brains for a solution of the enigma. I thought of it all the way from Blackwater to Clabora. I thought of it all the way from Clabora to Dumbleton as I rattled along the smooth highway in a trimmed dog-card, drawn by a splendid black mare and driven by the silentest and dapperest of East Anglian grooms. We did the nine miles in something less than an hour and pulled up before the lodge gates just as the church clock was striking half past seven. A couple of minutes more, and the warm glow of the lighted hall was flooding out upon the gravel.  And now, my dear fellow, said my host, when the first greeting was over, you have no time to spare. We dine at eight, and we're going to meet you so you must just get the dressing business over as quickly as you may be. By the way, you will meet some acquaintances, the bid-offs are coming, and Prendergast, Prendergast of the Skirmishers, is staying in the house. And you, Mrs Jelf, will be expecting you in the dining room. I was ushered to my room, not the blue room of which Mr Dwerri House had made disagreeable experience, but a pretty little bachelor's chamber hung with a delicate chintz and made cheerful by a blazing fire. I unlocked my portmanteau, I tried to be expeditious, but the memory of my railway adventure haunted me. I could not get free of it, I could not shake it off. It impeded me, worried me, it tripped me up, it caused me to mislay my studs to mistie my cravat to wrench the buttons off my gloves. Worst of all, it made me so late that the party had all assembled before I reached the drawing room. I paid my respects to Mrs Jelf when dinner was announced and we paired off some eight or ten couples strong into the dining room. I'm not going to describe either the guests or the dinner. All provincial parties bear the strictest family resemblance and I'm not aware that an East Anglian banquet offers any exception to the rule. There was the usual country baronet and his wife, there were the usual country parson and the internal turkey and hawnshire venison, vanitas vanitatum, there is nothing new under the sun. I was placed about midway down the table. I had taken one rector's wife down to dinner and I had another at my left hand. They talked across me and their talk was about babies. It was dreadfully dull. At length there came a pause. The entrees had just been removed and the turkey had come upon the scene. I had all along been of the languidest but at this moment it happened to have stagnated all together. Gelf was carving the turkey. Mrs Gelf looked as if she was trying to think of something to say. Everybody else was silent. Moved by an unlucky impulse I thought I would relate my adventure. By the way Gelf I began I came down part of the way today with a friend of yours. Indeed said the master of the feast slicing scientifically into the breast of the turkey. With whom pray?  I cannot think who that could be said my friend smiling. It must be major thought suggested Mrs Gelf. I shook my head. It was not major thought I replied. It was a near relation of your own Mrs Gelf. Then I am more puzzled than ever replied my hostess. Pray tell me who it was. It was no lesser person than your cousin Mr John Dwerrihouse. Jonathan Gelf laid down his knife and fork. Mrs Gelf looked at me in a strange startled way and said never a word. And he desired me to tell you my dear madam that you need not take the trouble to burn the hall down in his honour this time but only to have the chimney of the blue room swept up before his arrival. Before I had reached the end of my sentence I became aware of something ominous in the faces of the guests. I felt I had said something which I had better have left unsaid and that for some unexplained reason my words had evoked a general consternation. I sat confounded not daring to utter another syllable and for at least two whole minutes there was dead silence round the table. Then Captain Prendergast came to the rescue. You have been abroad for some months have you not Mr Langford? He said with the desperation of one who flings himself into the breach. I heard you had been to Russia. Surely you had something to tell us of the state and temper of the country after the war. I was heartily grateful to the gallant skirmisher for this diversion in my favour. I answered him my fear somewhat lamely but he kept the conversation up and presently one or two others joined in and so the difficulty whatever it might have been was bridged over. Bridged over but not repaired. A something and awkwardness a visible constraint remained. The guests hitherto had been simply dull but now they were evidently uncomfortable and embarrassed. The dessert had scarcely been placed upon the table when the ladies left the room. I seized the opportunity to select a vacant chair near Captain Prendergast. In heaven's name I whispered what was the matter just now what had I said. You mentioned the name of John Dwerrihouse. What of that? I had seen him not two hours before. It is a most astounding circumstance that you should have seen him said Captain Prendergast. Are you sure it was he? As sure as of my own identity we were talking about all the way between London and Blackwater but why does that surprise you? Because replied Captain Prendergast dropping his voice to the lowest whisper because John Dwerrihouse absconded three months ago with 75,000 pounds of the company's money and has never been heard of since. John Dwerrihouse had absconded three months ago and I had seen him only a few hours back. John Dwerrihouse had embezzled 75,000 pounds of the company's money yet told me that he carried that sum upon his person. Were ever facts so strangely incongruous so difficult to reconcile how should he have ventured again into the light of day how dared he show himself along the line above all what had he been doing throughout those mysterious three months of disappearance. Perplexing questions these questions which had once suggested themselves to the minds of all concerned but which admitted of no easy solution. I could find no reply to them. Captain Prendergast had not even a suggestion to offer. Jonathan Jelf who seized the first opportunity of drawing me aside and learning all that I had to tell was more amazed and bewildered than either of us. He came to my room that night when all the guests were gone and we talked the thing over from every point of view. Without it must be confessed arriving at any kind of conclusion. I do not ask you he said whether you can have mistaken your man that is impossible as impossible as that I should mistake some stranger for myself. It is not a question of looks or voice but of facts that he should have alluded to the fire in the blue room is proof enough of John Dwerrihouse's identity. How did he look? Older I thought he has had enough to make him look anxious anyway said my friend gloomily be he innocent or guilty. I am inclined to believe that he is innocent I replied. He showed no embarrassment when I addressed him and no uneasiness when the guard came round. His conversation was open to a fault. I might almost say that he talked too freely of the business which he had in hand. That again is strange for I know no more reticent and no one more reticent on such subjects.  He did. Hmm my wife had an idea about it and she may be right. What idea? Well she fancies women are so clever you know at putting themselves inside people's motives. She fancies that he was tempted that he did actually take the money and that he has been concealing himself these three months in some wild part of the country struggling possibly with his conscience all the time and daring neither to abscond with his booty nor to come back and restore it. But now that he has come back that is the point. She conceives that he has probably thrown himself upon the company's mercy made restitution of the money and being forgiven is permitted to carry the business through as if nothing whatever had happened. The last I replied is an impossible case. Mrs Jelf thinks like a generous and delicate-minded woman but not in the least like a board of railway directors they would never carry forgiveness so far. I fear not and yet it is the only conjecture that bears a semblance of likelihood. However we can run over to Claibor tomorrow and see if anything is to be learned.  I don't know if it's a cigar case. I did so and here it is. Jelf took the cigar case examined it by the light of the lamp and said at once that it was beyond doubt Mr Dwerihouse's property and that he remembered to have seen him use it. Here too is his monogram on the side he added a big J transfixing a capital D he used to carry the name the same on his note paper. It offers at all events a proof that I was not dreaming I, but it is time you were asleep and dreaming now I am ashamed to have kept you up so long. Good night. Good night and remember that I am more than ready to go with you to Claibor or Blackwater or London or anywhere if I can be of the least service. Thanks I know you mean it old friend and it may be that I shall put you to the test. Once more good night. So we parted for that night and met again in the breakfast room at half past eight next morning. It was a hurried, silent, uncomfortable meal None of us had slept well and all were thinking of the same subject. Mrs Jelf had evidently been crying Jelf was impatient to be off and both Captain Prendergast and myself felt ourselves to be in the painful position of outsiders who were involuntarily brought into a domestic trouble. Within twenty minutes after we had left the breakfast table the dog cart was brought round and my friend and I were on the road to Claiborah. Tell you what it is Longford he said as we sped along between the country wintery hedges I had not much fancy to bring up to Werry House's name at Claiborah all the officials know that he is my wife's relation and the subject just now is hardly a pleasant one. If you don't much mind we will make the 1110 to Blackwater it's an important station and we shall stand the far better chance of picking up information there than at Claiborah. So we took the 1110 which happened to be an express and arriving at Blackwater about a quarter before 12 proceeded at once to prosecute our enquiry. We began by asking for the station master a big blunt business-like person who had once avowed that he knew Mr John to Werry House perfectly well and that there was no director on the line whom he had seen and spoken to so frequently. He used to be down here two or three times a week about three months ago he said when the new line was first set afoot but since then you know gentlemen he paused significantly jelf flushed scarlet yes yes he said hurriedly we know all about that the point now to be ascertained is whether anything has been seen or heard of him lately not to my knowledge replied the station master he is not known to have been down the line any time yesterday for instance the station master shook his head the East Anglian Sir said he is about the last place where he would dare to show himself why there isn't a station master there isn't a guard, there isn't a porter who doesn't know Mr Dwerri House by sight as well as he knows his own face in the looking glass and who wouldn't telegraph for the police as soon as he had set eyes on him at any point along the line bless you sir there's been a standing order out against him for the last and yet pursued my friend a gentleman who travelled down yesterday from London to Clabora by the afternoon express testifies that he saw Mr Dwerri House in the train and that Mr Dwerri House alighted at Blackwater Station quite impossible sir replied the station master promptly why impossible because there is no station along the line where he is so well known or where he would run so great a risk it would be just running his head he would have been mad to come nigh Blackwater Station and if he had come he would have been arrested before he left this platform can you tell me who took the Blackwater tickets of that train I can sir it was the guard Benjamin Somers and where can I find him you can find him sir by staying here if you please till one o'clock he will be coming through with the up express from Crampton which stays in Blackwater for ten minutes by gailing the time as best we could by strolling along the Blackwater Road till we came almost to the outskirts of the town from which the station was distant nearly a couple of miles by one o'clock we were back again upon the platform and waiting for the train it came punctually and I had once recognised the ruddy faced guard who had gone down with my train the evening before the gentleman want to ask you something about Mr Dwerri House Somers said the station master the guard flashed a keen glance from my face to Jelfs and back again to mine Mr John Dwerri House the late director said he interrogatively the same replied my friend should you know him if you saw him any were sir do you know if he was in the 4.15 express yesterday afternoon he was not sir how can you answer so positively because I looked into every carriage and saw every face in that train and I could take my oath that Mr Dwerri House was not in it this gentleman was he added turning sharply upon me I don't know that I ever saw him before in my life but I remember his face perfectly you nearly missed taking your seat in time at this station sir and you got out at Clayborough quite true guard I replied but do you not remember the face of the gentleman who travelled down in the same carriage with me as far as here it was my impression sir that you travelled down alone said Summers with a look of some surprise by no means I had a fellow traveller as far as Blackwater and it was in trying to restore him the cigar case which he had dropped in the carriage that I so nearly let you go without me I remember your saying something about a cigar case certainly replied the guard but you asked for my ticket just before we entered the station I did sir then you must have seen him at the next the very door to which you came no indeed I saw no one I looked at Jelf I began to think the guard was in the ex-director's confidence and paid for his silence if I had seen another traveller I should have asked for his ticket and it's Summers did you see me ask for his ticket sir I observed that you did not ask for it but he explained that that by saying I hesitated I feared I might be telling too much and so broke off abruptly the guard and the station master exchanged glances the former looked impatiently at his watch I am obliged to go in four minutes more sir he said one last question then in opposed Jelf with a sort of desperation if this gentleman's fellow traveller had been Mr John Dwerrihouse and he had been sitting in the corner next the door in which you took the tickets could you have failed to see and recognise him no sir it would have been quite impossible and you are certain you did not see him as I said before sir I could take my oath I did not see him and if it wasn't that I don't like to contradict the gentleman I would say I could also take my oath that this gentleman was quite alone in the carriage the whole way from London to Claboura why sir he added dropping his voice so as to be inaudible to the station master who had been called away to speak to some person close by you expressly asked me to give you a compartment to yourself and I did so I locked you in and you were so good as to give me something for myself yes but Mr Dwerrihouse had a key of his own I never saw him sir I saw no one in that compartment but yourself beg pardon sir my time's up and with this the ruddy guard touched his cap and was gone in another minute the heavy panting of the engine began afresh and the train glided slowly out of the station we looked at each other for some moments in silence I was the first to speak Mr Benjamin Summers knows more than he chooses to tell I said hmm you think so it must be he could not have come to the door without seeing him it's impossible there is one thing not impossible my dear fellow what is that that you may have fallen asleep and dreamed the whole thing could I dream of a branch line that I had never heard of could I dream of 101 business details that had no kind of interest for me could I dream of the 75,000 pounds perhaps you might have seen or heard some vague account of the affair while you were abroad it might have made no impression upon you at the time and might have come back to you in your dreams recalled perhaps by the mere names of the stations on the line what about the fire in the chimney of the blue room should I have heard of that during my journey well no I admit there is a difficulty about that point and what about the cigar case I by jove there is the cigar case that is a stubborn fact well it's a mysterious affair and it will need a better detective than myself I fancy to clear it up I suppose we may as well go home a week had not gone by when I received a letter from the secretary of the East Anglian Railway Company requesting the favour of my attendance at a special board meeting not then many days distant no reasons were alleged and no apologies offered for this demand upon my time but they had heard it was clear of my enquiries about an end to the missing director and had a mind to put me through some sort of official examination upon the subject being still a guest at Dumbledon Hall I had to go up to London for the purpose and Jonathan Jelf accompanied me I found the direction of the great East Anglian line represented by a party of some 12 or 15 gentlemen seated in solemn conclave round a huge green bay's table in a gloomy boardroom adjoining the London terminus being courteously received by the chairman who was who at once began by saying that certain statements of mine respecting Mr John Dwerrihouse had come to the knowledge of the direction and that they in consequence desired to confer with me on these points we were placed at the table and the enquiry proceeded in due form I was first asked if I knew Mr John Dwerrihouse how long I had been acquainted with him and whether I could identify him at sight I was then asked when I had seen him last to which I replied on the fourth of this present month December 1856 then came the enquiry of where I had seen him on that fourth day of December to which I replied that I had met him in a first-class compartment of the 415 Down Express that he had got in just as the train was leaving the London terminus and that he alighted at Blackwater Station the chairman then inquired whether I had held any communication with my fellow traveller whereupon I related as nearly as I could remember it the whole bulk and substance of Mr John Dwerrihouse's diffuse information respecting the new branch line to all this the board listened with profound attention while the chairman presided and the secretary took notes I then in produced the cigar case it was passed from hand to hand and recognised by all there was not a man present who did not remember that plain cigar case with its silver monogram or to whom it seemed anything less entirely corroborative of my evidence when at length I had told all that I had to tell the chairman whispered something to the secretary the secretary touched a silver handbell and the guard Benjamin Summers was ushered into the room he was then examined as carefully as myself he declared that he knew Mr John Dwerrihouse perfectly well that he could not be mistaken in him that he remembered going down with the 415 Express on the afternoon in question that he remembered me and that there being one or two empty first class compartments on that special afternoon he had in compliance with my request placed me in a carriage by myself he was positive that I remained alone in that compartment all the way from London to Clabora he was ready to take his oath that Dwerrihouse was neither in that carriage with me nor in any compartment of that train he remembered distinctly to have examined my ticket to Blackwater was certain that there was no one else at that time in the carriage could not have failed to observe a second person if there had been one had that second person been Mr John Dwerrihouse should have quietly double locked the door of the carriage and have at once given information to the Blackwater station master so clear, so decisive, so ready was summers with this testimony the board looked fairly puzzled you hear this person's statement Mr Langford said the Chairman it contradicts yours in every particular what have you to say in reply I can only repeat what I said before I'm quite as positive of the truth of my own assertions as Mr Summers can be of the truth of his you say that Mr Dwerrihouse are lighted at Blackwater he was in possession of a private key are you sure that he had not alighted by means of that key before the guard came round for the tickets I'm quite positive that he did not leave the carriage till the train had fairly entered the station and the other Blackwater passengers alighted I even saw that he was met there by a friend indeed did you see that person distinctly quite distinctly can you describe his appearance he was short and very slight sandy haired with a bushy moustache and beard and he wore a closely fitting suit of grey tweed his age I should take to be about 38 or 40 did Mr Dwerrihouse leave the station in this person's company I cannot tell I saw them walking together down the platform and then I saw them standing inside under a gas jet talking earnestly after that I lost sight of them quite suddenly just then my train went on and I with it the chairman and secretary conferred together in an undertone the directors whispered to one another one or two looked suspiciously at the guard I could see that my evidence remained unshakeable and that I and that like myself they suspected some complicity between the guard and the defaulter how far did you conduct the 415 express on the day in question summers asked the chairman all through sir replied the guard from London to Crompton how was it that you were not relieved at Clabora I thought there was always a change of guards at Clabora there used to be sir till the new regulations came in force last mid summer since when the guards in charge of express trains go the whole way through the chairman turned to the secretary I think it would be as well he said if we had the day book to refer to upon this point again the secretary touched the silver handbell and desired the porter in attendance to summon Mr Rakes from a word or two dropped by another of the directors I gathered that Mr Rakes was one of the under secretaries he came a small slight sandy herd keen-eyed man with an eager nervous manner and a forest of light beard and moustache he showed himself at the door of the boardroom and being requested to bring a certain danger from a certain shelf in a certain room bowed and vanished he was there such a moment and the surprise of seeing him was so great and sudden that it was not till the door had closed upon him that I found voice to speak he was no sooner gone however than I sprang to my feet that person I said is the same who met Mr Dwerrihouse upon the platform at Blackwater there was a general movement of surprise the chair of the boardroom the chairman looked grave and somewhat agitated take care Mr Langford he said take care what you say I am as positive of his identity as of my own do you consider the consequences of your words do you consider that you are bringing a charge of the gravest character against one of the company's servants I am willing to put it upon my oath if necessary the man who came to that door a minute since is the same whom I saw talking with Mr Dwerrihouse on the Blackwater platform were he twenty times the company's servant I could say neither more nor less the chairman turned again to the guard did you see Mr Rakes in the train or on the platform he asked some has shook his head I am confident Mr Rakes was not in the train he said and I certainly did not see him on the platform I am confident Mr Rakes was not in the train he said on the platform the chairman turned next to the secretary Mr Rakes is in your office Mr Hunter he said can you remember if he was absent on the fourth instant I do not think he was replied the secretary but I am not prepared to speak positively I have been away most afternoons myself lately and Mr Rakes might easily have absented himself if he had been disposed at this moment the under secretary returned with the day book under his arm be pleased to refer Mr Rakes said the chairman to the entries of the fourth instant and see what Benjamin Somers duties were on that day Mr Rakes threw open the cumbrous volume and ran a practised eye and finger down some three or four successive columns of entries stopping suddenly at the foot of a page he then read aloud that Benjamin Somers had on that day conducted the 415 express from London to Crempton the chairman leaned forward in his seat looked the under secretary full in the face and said quite sharply and suddenly were were you Mr Rakes on the same afternoon aye sir you Mr Rakes were were you on the afternoon and evening of the fourth of the present month here sir in Mr Hunter's office where else should I be there was a dash of trepidation in the under secretary's voice as he said this but his look of surprise was natural enough we have some reason for believing Mr Rakes that you were absent that afternoon without leave was this the case certainly not sir I have not had a days holiday since September Mr Hunter will burn me out in this Mr Hunter repeated what he had previously said on the subject but added that the clerks in the adjoining office would be certain to know where upon the senior clerk a grave middle aged person was summoned and interrogated his testimony cleared the under secretary at once he declared that Mr Rakes had in no instance to his knowledge been absent during office hours since his return from his annual holiday in September I was confounded the chairman turned to me with a smile in which a shade of covert annoyance was scarcely apparent you hear Mr Langford he said I hear sir but my conviction remains unshaken I fear Mr Langford that your convictions are very insufficiently based replied the chairman with a doubtful cough I fear that you dream dreams and mistake them for actual occurrences it is a dangerous habit of mind and might lead to dangerous results Mr Rakes here would have found himself in an unpleasant position had he not proved so satisfactory and alibi I was about to reply but he gave me no time I think gentlemen he went on to say addressing the board that we should be wasting time to push this inquiry further Mr Langford's evidence would seem to be of an equal value throughout the testimony of Benjamin Somers disproves his first statement and the testimony of the last witness disproves his second I think we may conclude that Mr Langford fell asleep on the train on the occasion of his journey to Clabora and dreamed an unusually vivid and circumstantial dream of which however we have now heard quite enough there are a few things more annoying that find one's positive convictions met with incredulity I could not help feeling impatience at the turn that affairs had taken I was not proof against the civil sarcasm of the chairman's manner most intolerable of all however was the quiet smile lurking about the corners of Benjamin Somers mouth and the half triumphant half malicious gleam in the eyes of the undersecretary the man was evidently puzzled and somewhat alarmed his looks seemed furtively to interrogate me who was I what did I want why had I come there to do him an ill turn with his employers what was it to me whether or no he was absent without leave seeing all this and perhaps more irritated by it than the thing deserved I begged leave to detain the attention of the board for a moment longer jelf plucked me impatiently by the sleeve better let the thing drop he whispered the chairman's right enough you dreamed it and the less said now the better I was not to be silenced however in this fashion I had yet something to say and I would say it it was to this effect that dreams were not usually productive of tangible results and that I requested to know in what way the chairman conceived I had evolved from my dream so substantial and well made a delusion as the cigar case which I had had the honour to place before him at the commencement of our interview the cigar case I admit Mr Langford the chairman replied is a very strong point in your evidence it is your only strong point however and there is just a possibility that we may all be misled by a mere accidental resemblance will you permit me to see the case again it is unlikely I said as I handed it to him that any other should bear precisely this monogram and yet be in all other particulars exactly similar the chairman examined it for a moment in silence and then passed it to Mr Hunter Mr Hunter turned it over and over and shook his head this is no mere resemblance he said it is John Dwerrihouse's cigar case to a certainty I remember it perfectly I have seen it a hundred times I believe I may say the same added the chairman yet how account for the way in which Mr Langford asserts that it came into his possession I can only repeat I replied that I found it on the floor of the carriage after Mr Dwerrihouse had alighted it was in leaning out to look after him that I trod upon it and it was in running after him for the purpose of restoring it that I saw or believed I saw Mr Rakes standing aside with him in earnest conversation again I felt Jonathan Jelf plucking at my sleeve look at Rakes he whispered look at Rakes I turned to where the under secretary had been standing a moment before and saw him whiter's death with lips trembling and livid stealing toward the door to conceive a sudden strange and indefinite suspicion to fling myself in his way to take him by the shoulders as if he were a child and turn his craven face perforce toward the board were with me the work of an instant look at him I exclaimed look at his face I asked no better witness to the truth of my words the chairman's brow darkened Mr Rakes he said sternly if you know anything you would better speak vainly trying to wrench himself from my grasp the under secretary stammered out an incoherent denial let me go he said I know nothing you have no right to detain me let me go did you or did you not meet Mr John Dwerrihouse at Blackwater Station the charge brought against you is either true or false if true you will do well to throw yourself upon the mercy of the board and make full confession of all that you know the under secretary rung his hands in an agony of helpless terror I was away he cried I was 200 miles away at the time I know nothing about it I have nothing to confess I am innocent I call God to witness I am innocent 200 miles away echoed the chairman what do you mean I was in Devonshire I had three weeks leave of absence I appealed to Mr Hunter Mr Hunter knows I had three weeks leave of absence I was in Devonshire all the time I can prove I was in Devonshire seeing him so abject so incoherent so wild with apprehension the directors began to whisper gravely among themselves where one got quietly up and called the porter to guard the door what has your being down in Devonshire to do with the matter said the chairman where were you in Devonshire Mr Rakes took his leave in September said the secretary about the time when Mr Dwerrihouse disappeared I have never heard that he had disappeared till I came back that must remain to be proved said the chairman I shall at once put this matter in the hands of the police in the mean while Mr Rakes being myself a magistrate and used to deal with these cases I advise you to offer no resistance but to confess while confession may yet do you service as for your accomplish the wretched the frightened wretch fell upon his knees I had no accomplice he cried only have mercy upon me only spare my life and I will confess all I didn't mean to harm him I didn't mean to hurt a hair of his head only have mercy upon me and let me go the chairman rose in his place pale and agitated good heavens he exclaimed what horrible mystery is this what does it mean as sure as there is a God in heaven said Jonathan Jelf it means that murder has been done no no no shrieked Jake Rakes still upon his knees and cowering like a beaten hound not murder no jury that ever sat could bring it in murder I thought I had only stunned him I never meant to do more than stun him manslaughter manslaughter not murder overcome by the horror of this unexpected revelation the chairman covered his face with his hand and for a moment or two remained silent miserable man he said at length you have betrayed yourself you bad me confess you urged me to throw myself upon the mercy of the board you have confessed to a crime which no one suspected you of having committed replied the chairman and which this board has no power either to punish or forgive all that I can do for you is to advise you to submit to the law to plead guilty and to conceal nothing when did you do this to heed the guilty man rose to his feet and leaned heavily against the table his answer came reluctantly like the speech of one dreaming on the 22nd of September on the 22nd of September I looked in Jonathan Jelf's face and he in mine I felt my own smiling with a strange sense of wonder and dread I saw his blanch suddenly even to the lips merciful heaven he whispered what was it then that you saw in the train what was it that I saw in the train that question remains unanswered to this day I have never been able to reply to it I only know that it bore the living likeness of the murdered man whose body had then been lying some ten weeks under a rough pile of branches and brambles and rotting leaves at the bottom of a deserted chalk bit about halfway between Blackwater and Malingford I know that it spoke and moved and looked as that man spoke and moved and looked in life that I heard or seemed to hear things revealed which I could never otherwise have learned that I was guided as it were by that vision on the platform to the identification of the murderer and that a passive instrument myself I was destined by means of these mysterious teachings to bring about the ends of justice for these things I have never been able to account as for that matter of the cigar case it proved on enquiry that the carriage in which I travelled down that afternoon to Clabora had not been in use for several weeks and was in point of fact the same in which poor John Dwerrihouse had performed his last journey the case had doubtless been dropped by him and had lain unnoticed till I found it upon the details of the murder I have no need to dwell those who desire more ample particulars may find them and the written confession of Augustus Rakes in the files of the Times for 1856 enough that the undersecretary knowing the history of the new line and following the negotiation step by step through all its stages determined to wailay Mr Dwerrihouse, rob him of the £75,000 and escaped to America with his booty in order to effect these ends he obtained leave of absence a few days before the time appointed for the payment of the money secured his passage across the Atlantic in a steamer advertised to start on the 23rd provided himself with a heavily loaded life preserver and went down to Blackwater to await the arrival of his victim how he met him on the platform with a pretended message from the board how he offered to conduct him by a short cut across the fields to Malingford how having brought him to a lonely place he struck him down with the life preserver and so killed him and how finding what he had done he dragged the body to the verge of an out of the way chalk bit and there flung it in and piled it over with branches and brambles are facts still fresh in the memories of those who like the connoisseurs into Quincy's famous essay regard murder as a fine art strangely enough the murderer having done his work was afraid to leave the country he declared that he had not intended to take the director's life but only to stun and rob him and that finding the blow had killed he dared not fly for fear of drawing down suspicion upon his own head as a mere robber he would have been safe in the States but as a murderer he would inevitably have been pursued and given up to justice so he forfeited his passage, returned to the office as usual at the end of his leave and locked up his ill-gotten thousands till a more convenient opportunity in the meanwhile he had the satisfaction of finding that Mr Dwerrihouse was universally believed to have absconded with the money no one knew how or with him whether he meant murder or not however Mr Augustus Rakes paid the full penalty of his crime and was hanged at the Old Bailey in the second week in January 1857 those who desire to make his further acquaintance may see him any day admirably done in wax in the Chamber of Horrors at Madame Tussaud's exhibition in Baker Street he is there to be found in the midst of a select society of ladies and gentlemen of atrocious memory dressed in the close cut tweed suit which he wore on the evening of the murder and holding in his hand the identical life preserver with which he committed it End of the 415 Express by Amelia B. Edwards To Miss Austen, eldest daughter of the Reverend George Austen, this work is inscribed with all due respect by the author in B, there will be very few dates in this history the history of England, Henry IV Henry IV ascended the throne of England much to his own satisfaction in the year 1399 after having prevailed on his cousin and predecessor Richard II to resign it to him and to retire for the rest of his life to Pondford Castle where he happened to be murdered it is to be supposed that Henry was married since he had certainly four sons but it is not in my power to inform the reader who was his wife be this as it may he did not live forever but falling ill his son the Prince of Wales came and took away the crown whereupon the king made a long speech for which I must refer the reader to Shakespeare's plays and the Prince made it still longer things being thus settled between them the king died and was succeeded by his son Henry who had previously beat Sir William Gascon Henry V this Prince after he succeeded to the throne grew quite reformed and amiable forsaking all his dissipated companions and never thrashing Sir William again during his reign Lord Cobham was burnt alive but I forget what for his majesty then turned his thoughts to France where he went and fought the famous battle of Agoncor he afterwards married the king's daughter Catherine a very agreeable woman by Shakespeare's account in spite of all this however he died and was succeeded by his son Henry Henry VI I cannot say much for this monarch's sense nor would I if I could for he was a Lancastrian I suppose you know all about the wars between him and the Duke of York on the right side if you do not you would better read some other history for I shall not be very diffused in this meaning by it only to vent my spleen against and show my hatred to all those people whose parties or principles do not suit with mine and not to give information this king married Margaret of Anjou a woman whose distresses and misfortunes were so great as almost to make me who hate her pity her it was in this reign that Joan of Arc lived and made such a row among the English they should not have burnt her but they did there were several battles between the Yorkist and Lancastrians in which the former as they ought usually conquered at length they were entirely overcome the king was murdered the queen was sent home and Edward IV ascended the throne Edward IV this monarch was famous only for his beauty and his courage of which the picture we have here given of him and his undaunted behavior in marrying one woman were sufficient proofs his wife was Elizabeth Woodville a widow who poor woman was afterwards confined in a convent by that monster of iniquity and adverse Henry VII one of Edward's mistresses was Jane Shore who has had a play written about her but it is a tragedy and therefore not worth reading having performed all these noble actions his majesty died and was succeeded by his son Edward V this unfortunate prince lived so little awhile that he had no time to draw his picture he was murdered by his uncle's contrivance whose name was Richard III Richard III the character of this prince has been in general very severely treated by historians but as he was a York I'm rather inclined to suppose him a very respectable man it has indeed been confidently asserted that he killed his two nephews and his wife but it has also been declared that he did not kill his two nephews which I am inclined to believe true and if this is the case it may also be affirmed that he did not kill his wife for if Perkin Warbeck was really the Duke of York why not Lambert Simnall be the widow of Richard whether innocent or guilty he did not reign long in peace for Henry Tutor, Earl of Richmond as great a villain has ever lived made a great fuss about getting the crown and having killed the king at the battle of Bosworth he succeeded to it Henry VII this monarch soon after his ascension married the princess Elizabeth of York by which alliance he plainly proved that he thought his own right in figure to hers though he pretended to the contrary by this marriage he had two sons and two daughters the elder of which daughters was married to the king of Scotland and had the happiness of being grandmother to one of the first characters of the world but of her I shall have occasion was married first the king of France and secondly the Duke of Suffolk by whom she had one daughter afterwards the mother of Lady Jane Grey who though inferior to her lovely cousin the Queen of Scots was yet an amiable young woman and famous for reading Greek while other people were hunting it was in the reign of Henry VII that Perkin Warbeck and Lambert Simnall before mentioned made their appearance the former of whom was said in the stocks took shelter in Benlyu Abbey and the latter was taken into the king's kitchen his majesty died and was succeeded by his son Henry whose only merit was his not being quite so bad as his daughter Elizabeth Henry VIII it would be in affront to my readers were I to suppose that they were not as well acquainted with the particulars of this king's reign as I am myself I will therefore save them the task of reading again what they have read before and myself the trouble of writing what I do not perfectly recollect is only a slight sketch of the principal events which marked his reign among these may be ranked Cardinal Walsley he's telling the father Abbot of Lichester Abbey that he was come to lay his bones among them the reformation in religion and the king's writing through the streets of London with Anne Boleyn it is however but justice and my duty to declare that this amiable woman was entirely innocent of the crimes with which she was accused and of which her beauty, her elegance and her sprightliness were proofs not to mention her solemn protestations of innocence the weakness of the charges against her and the king's character all of which add some confirmation though perhaps but slight ones when in comparison with those before alleged in her favor though I do not profess giving many dates yet as I think it proper to give some and shall of course make the choice of those which it is most necessary for the reader to know I think it right to inform him that she was dated the 6th of May the crimes and cruelties of this prince were too numerous to be mentioned as this history I trust has fully shown and nothing can be said in his vindication but that his abolishing religious houses and leaving them to the ruinest depredations of time has been of infinite use to the landscape of England in general which probably was a principal motive for his doing it since otherwise why should a man who is of no religion himself be one which had for ages been established in the kingdom his majesty's fifth wife was the Duke of Norfolk's niece who though universally acquitted of the crimes for which she was beheaded has been by many people supposed to have led an abandoned life before her marriage of this however I have many doubts since she was a relation of that noble Duke of Norfolk who was so warm in the Queen of Scotland's cause and who at last fell a victim to it the king's last wife to revive him but with difficulty affected it he was succeeded by his only son Edward Edward the sixth as this prince was only nine years old at the time of his father's death he was considered by many people as too young to govern and the late king happening to be of the same opinion his mother's brother the Duke of Somerset was chosen protector of the realm during his minority this man on the whole was a very amiable character and is somewhat of a favourite with me though I would by no means pretend to affirm that he was equal to those first of men Robert, Earl of Essex, Delmer or Gilpin he was beheaded of which he might with reason have been proud had he known that such was the death of Mary Queen of Scotland but as it was impossible that he should be conscious of what had never happened it does not appear that he felt particularly delighted with the manner of it after his decease the king and the kingdom and performed his trust of both so well that the king died and the kingdom was left to his daughter-in-law the lady Jane Grey who has already been mentioned as reading Greek whether she really understood that language or whether such a study proceeded only from an excessive vanity for which I believe she was always rather remarkable is uncertain whatever might be the cause she preserved in the same appearance of knowledge and contempt of what was generally esteemed to be pleasure by the soul of her life for she declared herself displeased with being appointed queen and while conducting to the scaffold she wrote a sentence in Latin and another in Greek on seeing the dead body of her husband accidentally passing that way Mary this woman had the good luck of being advanced to the throne of England in spite of the superior pretensions, merit and beauty of her cousins Mary Queen of Scotland and Jane Grey reserved them for having allowed her to succeed her brother which was a double piece of folly since they might have foreseen that as she died without children she would be succeeded by that disgrace to humanity that pest to society Elizabeth many were the people who fell martyrs to the Protestant religion during her reign I suppose not fewer than a dozen she married Philip King of Spain who in her sister's reign was famous for building armadas she died without issue a dreadful moment came in which the destroyer of all comfort the deceitful betrayer of trust reposed in her and the murderous of her cousin succeeded to the throne Elizabeth it was the peculiar misfortune of this woman to have bad ministers since wicked as she herself was she could not have committed such extensive mischief had not these vile and abandoned men connived at and encouraged her in her crimes I know that it has by many people believed that Lord Burley Sir Francis Washingham and the rest who filled the chief offices of state were deserving experienced an able minister but oh how blinded such writers and such readers must be to true merit to merit despised, neglected and defamed if they can persist in such opinions when they reflect that these men these boasted men were such scandals to their country and their sex as to allow and assist their queen in the face of 19 years a woman who if the claims of relationship and merit were of no avail yet as a queen and as one who condescended to place confidence in her had every reason to expect assistance and protection and at length in allowing Elizabeth to bring this amiable woman to an untimely, unmerited and scandalous death can any one if he reflects but for a moment on this blot this ever lasting blot upon their understanding and their character allow any praise to Lord Burley or Sir Francis Washingham oh what must this bewitching princess whose only friend was the Duke of Norfolk and whose only ones now Mr Whittaker, Mrs Leffery Mrs Knight and myself who was abandoned by her son confined by her cousin abused, reproached and vilified by all what must her most noble mind have suffered when informed that Elizabeth had given orders for her death yet she bore it with the most unshaken fortitude firm in her mind constant in her religion and prepared herself to meet the cruel fate to which she was doomed with the magnanimity that would alone proceed from conscious innocence and yet could you reader have believed it possible that some hardened and zealous protestants have even abused her in the vastness and Catholic religion which reflected on her so much credit but this is a striking proof of their narrow souls and prejudiced judgments who accuse her she was executed in the great hall at Forth and Gay Castle sacred place on Wednesday the 8th of February 1586 to the everlasting reproach of Elizabeth her ministers and of England in general it may not be unnecessary before I entirely conclude my account of this ill-fitted queen to observe that she had been accused of several crimes during the time of her reigning in Scotland of which I now most seriously do assure my reader that she was entirely innocent having never been guilty of anything more than imprudencies into which she was betrayed by the openness of her heart her youth and her education having I trust by this assurance entirely done away with every suspicion and every doubt which might have arisen in the reader's mind from what other historians have written of her I shall proceed to mention the remaining events that marked Elizabeth's reign it was about this time that Sir Francis Drake the first English navigator who sailed around the world lived to be the ornament of his country in his profession yet great as he was and justly celebrated as a sailor he will be equaled in this or the next century by one who though now but young already promises to answer all the ardent and sanguine expectations of his relations and friends amongst whom I may class the amiable lady to whom this work is dedicated and my no less amiable self though of a different profession and shining in a different sphere of life yet equally conspicuous in the character of an earl as Drake was in that of a sailor this unfortunate young man was not unlike in character to that equally unfortunate one Frederick Delmere the simile may be carried still farther and Elizabeth the torment of Essex may be compared to Emeline of Delmere it would be endless to recount the misfortunes of this noble and gallant earl it is sufficient to say that he was beheaded on the 25th of February after having been Lord Lieutenant of Ireland after having clapped his hand on his sword and after performing many other services to his country Elizabeth did not long survive his loss and died so miserable that were it not an injury to the memory of Mary I should pity her James the first though this king had some faults among which and as the most principal was his allowing his mother's death yet considered on the whole I cannot help liking him he married Anne of Denmark and several children fortunately for him his eldest son Prince Henry died before his father or he might have experienced the evils which befell his unfortunate brother as I am myself partial to the Roman Catholic religion is with infinite regret that I am obliged to blame the behavior of any member of it yet truth being I think very excusable in a historian I am necessitated to say that in this reign their behavior indeed to the royal family and both houses of parliament might justly be considered by them as very uncivil and even Sir Henry Percy though certainly the best bread man of the party had none of that general politeness which is so universally pleasing as his attentions were entirely confined to Lord Montagle Sir Walter Raleigh flourished in this and the preceding reign and is by many people held that I have nothing to say and praise of him and must refer all those who may wish to be acquainted with the particulars of his life to Mr Sheridan's play of the critic where they will find many interesting anecdotes of him as well of his friend Sir Christopher Hatton his majesty was of that amiable disposition which inclines to friendship and in such points was possessed of a keener penetration in discovering merit I am now on reminds me and as I think it may afford my reader some amusement to find it out I shall here take the liberty of presenting it to them Sherade My first is what my second was to King James I and you tread upon my whole The principal favourites of his majesty were Carr who was afterwards created Earl of Somerset and whose name perhaps may have some share in the above mentioned Sherade and George Filliers and his death he was succeeded by his son Charles Charles I This amiable monarch seems born to have suffered misfortunes equal to those of his lovely grandmother misfortunes which he could not deserve since he was her descendant never certainly were there before so many detestable characters at one time in England as in this period of its history never were amiable men so scarce the number of them throughout the whole kingdom was the inhabitants of Oxford who were always loyal to their king and faithful to his interests the names of this noble five who never forgot the duty of the subject or swerved from their attachment to his majesty were his followers the king himself ever steadfast in his own support Archbishop Lodd Earl of Stratford Vikant Falkland and Duke of Wormond who were scarcely less strenuous the villains of this time would make too long a list to be written or read I shall therefore content myself with mentioning the leaders of the gang Cromwell, Fairfass, Hampton and Pym may be considered as the original causers distresses and civil wars in which England for many years was embroiled In this reign as well as in that of Elizabeth I am obliged in spite of my attachment to the scotch to consider them as equally guilty with the generality of the English to forget the adoration which is stewards it was their duty to pay them to rebel against, dethrone and imprison the unfortunate Mary to oppose, to deceive and to sell the no less unfortunate Charles the events of this monarch's reign are too numerous for my pen and indeed the recital of any events except what I make myself is uninteresting to me my principal reason for undertaking the history of England being to prove the innocence of the Queen of Scotland which I flatter myself with having effectually done and to abuse Elizabeth though I am rather fearful of having fallen short in the latter part of my scheme as therefore it is not my intention to give any particular account of the distresses into which this king was involved through the misconduct and cruelty of his parliament I shall satisfy myself with vindicating him from the reproach of arbitrary and tyrannical government with which he has often been charged this I feel is not difficult to be done for with one argument I am certain of satisfying every sensible and well disposed person whose opinions have been properly guided by a good education and this argument is that he was a steward Finney Saturday, November 26th, 1791 end of recording this recording is in the public domain Q Gardens by Virginia Woolf this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Elizabeth Clett from the oval shaped flower bed there rose perhaps a hundred stalks spreading into heart shaped or tongue shaped leaves half way up and unfurling at the tip red or blue or yellow petals the red, blue and yellow raised upon the surface and from the red, blue or yellow gloom of the throat emerged a straight bar rough with gold dust and slightly clubbed at the end the petals were voluminous enough to be stirred by the summer breeze and when they moved the red, blue and yellow lights passed one over the other staining an inch of the brown earth beneath with the spot of the most intricate colour on the smooth grey back of a pebble or the shell of a snail with its brown circular veins or falling into a raindrop it expanded with such intensity of red, blue and yellow the thin walls of water that one expected them to burst and disappear instead the drop was left in a second silver grey once more and the light now settled upon the flesh of a leaf revealing the branching thread of fibre beneath the surface and again it moved on and spread its illumination in the vast green spaces beneath the dome of the heart-shaped and tongue-shaped leaves then the breeze stirred rather more briskly overhead and the colour was flashed into the air above into the eyes of the men and women who walk in queue gardens in July the figures of these men and women straggled past the flower bed with a curiously irregular movement not unlike that of the white and blue butterflies who crossed the turf in zigzag flights from bed to bed the man was about six inches in front of the woman strolling carelessly while she bore on with greater purpose only turning her head now and then to see that the children were not too far behind the man kept this distance in front of the woman purposely though perhaps unconsciously for he wished to go on with his thoughts fifteen years ago I came here with Lily he thought we sat somewhere over there by a lake and I begged her to marry me all through the hot afternoon how the dragonfly kept circling round us how clearly I see the dragonfly and her shoe with a square silver buckle at the toe all the time I spoke I saw her shoe and when it moved impatiently I knew without looking up what she was going to say the whole of her seemed to be in her shoe and my love, my desire, were in the dragonfly for some reason I thought that if it settled there on that leaf the broad one with the red flower in the middle of it if the dragonfly settled on the leaf she would say yes at once but the dragonfly went round and round it never settled anywhere of course not happily not or I shouldn't be walking here with Eleanor and the children tell me Eleanor do you ever think of the past? why do you ask Simon? because I've been thinking of the past though I've been thinking of Lily the woman I might have married well why are you silent? do you mind my talking of the past? why should I mind Simon? doesn't one always think of the past in a garden with men and women lying under the trees aren't they one's past all that remains of it those ghosts lying under the trees one's happiness one's reality for me a square silver shoe buckle and a dragonfly for me a kiss imagine six little girls sitting before their easels 20 years ago down by the side of a lake painting the water lilies the first red water lilies I'd ever seen and suddenly a kiss there on the back of my neck and my hand shook all the afternoon so that I couldn't paint I took out my watch and marked the hour when I would allow myself to think of the kiss for five minutes only it was so precious the kiss of an old grey haired woman with a ward on her nose the mother of all my kisses all my life come Caroline come Hubert they walked on past the flower bed now walking for a breast and soon diminished in size among the trees and looked half transparent as the sunlight and shade swam over their backs in large trembling irregular patches in the oval flower bed the snail whose shell had been stained red blue and yellow for the space of two minutes or so now appeared to be moving very slightly in its shell and next began to labour over the crumbs of loose earth which broke away and rolled down as it passed over them it appeared to have a definite goal in front of it differing in this respect from the singular high-stepping angular green insect who attempted to cross in front of it and waited for a second with its antenna trembling as if in deliberation and then stepped off as rapidly and strangely in the opposite direction brown cliffs with deep green lakes in the hollows flat blade-like trees that waved from root to tip round boulders of grey stone vast crumpled surfaces of a thin crackling texture all these objects lay across the snail's progress between one stalk and another to its goal before he had decided whether to circumvent the arched tent of a dead leaf or to breast it there came past the bed the feet of other human beings this time they were both men the younger of the two wore an expression of perhaps unnatural calm he raised his eyes and fixed them very steadily in front of him while his companion spoke and directly his companion had done speaking he looked on the ground again and sometimes opened his lips only after a long pause and sometimes did not open them at all the elder man had a curiously uneven and shaky method of walking jerking his hand forward and throwing up his head abruptly rather in the manner of an impatient carriage horse tired of waiting outside a house but in the man those gestures were irresolute and pointless he talked almost incessantly he smiled to himself and again began to talk as if the smile had been an answer he was talking about spirits the spirits of the dead who according to him were even now telling him all sorts of odd things about their experiences in heaven heaven was known to the ancients as Thessaly William and now with this war the spirit matter is rolling between the hills like thunder he paused, seemed to listen, smiled, jerked his head and continued you have a small electric battery and a piece of rubber to insulate the wire isolate? insulate? well we'll skip the details no good going into details that wouldn't be understood and in short the little machine stands in any convenient position by the head of the bed we will say on a neat mahogany stand all arrangements being properly fixed by workmen under my direction the widow applies her ear and summons the spirit by sign as agreed women widows women in black here he seemed to have caught sight of a woman's dress in the distance which in the shade looked a purple black he took off his hat placed his hand upon his heart and hurried towards her muttering and gesticulating feverishly but William caught him by the sleeve and touched a flower with the tip of his walking stick in order to divert the old man's attention after looking at it for a moment in some confusion the old man bent his ear to it and seemed to answer a voice speaking from it for he began talking about the forests of Uruguay which he had visited hundreds of years ago in company with the most beautiful young woman in Europe he could be heard murmuring about forests of Uruguay blanketed with the wax petals of tropical roses nightingales, sea beaches, mermaids and women drowned at sea as he suffered himself to be moved on by William upon whose face the look of stoical patience grew slowly deeper and deeper following his steps so closely as to be slightly puzzled by his gestures came two elderly women of the lower middle class one stout and ponderous, the other rosy cheeked and nimble like most people of their station they were frankly fascinated by any signs of eccentricity betokening a disordered brain especially in the well to do but they were too far off to be certain whether the gestures were merely eccentric or genuinely mad after they had scrutinized the old man's back in silence for a moment and given each other a queer sly look they went on energetically piecing together their very complicated dialogue Nell, Burt, Lott, Sess, Phil, Pa, he says, I says, she says, I says, I says, I says My Burt, Sess, Bill, Grandad, the old man, Sugar, Sugar, Flowers, Kippers, Greens Sugar, Sugar, Sugar The ponderous woman looked through the pattern of falling leaves at the flowers standing cool firm and upright in the earth with a curious expression she saw them as a sleeper waking from a heavy sleep sees a brass candlestick reflecting the light in an unfamiliar way and closes his eyes and opens them and seeing the brass candlestick again finally starts broad awake and stares at the candlestick with all his powers so the heavy woman came to a stand still opposite the oval shaped flower bed and ceased even to pretend to listen to what the other woman was saying she stood there letting the words fall over her swaying the top part of her body slowly backwards and forwards looking at the flowers then she suggested that they should find a seat and have their tea the snail had now considered every possible method of reaching his goal without going round the dead leaf or climbing over it let alone the effort needed for climbing a leaf he was doubtful whether the thin texture which vibrated with such an alarming crackle when touched even by the tip of his horns would bear his weight and this determined him finally to creep beneath it for there was a point where the leaf curved high enough from the ground to admit him he had just inserted his head in the opening and was taking stock of the high brown roof and was getting used to the cool brown light when two other people came past outside on the turf this time they were both young a young man and a young woman they were both in the prime of youth or even in that season which precedes the prime of youth the season before the smooth pink folds of the flower have burst their gummy case when the wings of the butterfly though fully grown are motionless in the sun lucky it is in Friday he observed why do you believe in luck they make you pay sixpence on Friday what's sixpence anyway isn't it worth sixpence what's it what do you mean by it oh anything I mean you know what I mean long pauses came between each of these remarks they were uttered in toneless and monotonous voices the couple stood still on the edge of the flower bed and together pressed the end of her parasol deep down into the soft earth the action and the fact that his hand rested on the top of hers expressed their feelings in a strange way as these short insignificant words also expressed something words with short wings for their heavy body of meaning inadequate to carry them far and thus alighting awkwardly upon the very common objects that surrounded them and word to their inexperienced touch so massive but who knows so they thought as they pressed the parasol into the earth what precipices aren't concealed in them or what slopes of ice don't shine in the sun on the other side who knows who has ever seen this before even when she wondered what sort of tea they gave you at Q he felt that something loomed up behind her words and stood vast and solid behind them and the mist very slowly rose and uncovered oh heavens what were those shapes little white tables and waitresses who looked first at her and then at him and there was a bill that he would pay with a real two shilling piece and it was real all real he assured himself fingering the coin in his pocket real to everyone except to him and to her even to him it began to seem real and then but it was too exciting to stand and think any longer and he pulled the parasol out of the earth with a jerk and was impatient to find the place where one had tea with other people like other people come along Trissy it's time we had our tea wherever does one have one's tea she asked with the oddest thrill of excitement in her voice looking vaguely round and letting herself be drawn on down the grass path trailing her parasol turning her head this way and that way forgetting her tea wishing to go down there and then down there remembering orchids and cranes among wildflowers tiny spagoda and a crimson crusted bird but he bore her on thus one couple after another with much the same irregular and aimless movement past the flower bed and were enveloped in layer after layer of green blue vapor in which at first their bodies had substance and a dash of color but later both substance and color dissolved in the green blue atmosphere how hot it was so hot that even the thrush chose to hop like a mechanical bird in the shadow of the flowers with long pauses between one movement and the next instead of rambling vaguely the white butterflies danced one above another making with their white shifting flakes the outline of a shattered marble column above the tallest flowers the glass roofs of the palm house shown as if a whole market full of shiny green umbrellas had opened in the sun and in the drone of the aeroplane the voice of the summer sky murmured its fierce soul yellow and black pink and snow white shapes of all these colors men women and children were spotted for a second upon the horizon and then seeing the breadth of yellow that lay upon the grass they wavered and sought shade beneath the trees dissolving like drops of water in the yellow and green atmosphere staining it faintly with red and blue it seemed as if all gross and heavy bodies had sunk down in the heat motionless and lay huddled upon the ground but their voices went wavering from them as if they were flames lolling from the thick wax and bodies of candles voices yes voices wordless voices breaking the silence suddenly with such depth of contentment such passion of desire or in the voices of children such freshness of surprise breaking the silence but there was no silence all the time the motor omnibuses were turning their wheels and changing their gear like a vast nest of Chinese boxes all of wrought steel turning ceaselessly one within another the city murmured on the top of which the voices cried aloud and the petals of myriad flowers flashed their colors into the air end of Q Gardens by Virginia Woolf the mark on the wall by Virginia Woolf this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Elizabeth Clett perhaps it was the middle of January in the present that I first looked up and saw the mark on the wall in order to fix a date it is necessary to remember what one saw so now I think of the fire the steady film of yellow light upon the page of my book the three chrysanthemums in the round glass bowl on the mantelpiece yes it must have been the winter time and we had just finished our tea for I remember that I was smoking a cigarette when I looked up and saw the mark on the wall for the first time I looked up through the smoke of my cigarette and my eye lodged for a moment upon the burning coals and that old fancy of the crimson flag flapping from the castle tower came into my mind and I thought of the cavalcade of red knights riding up the side of the black rock rather to my relief the side of the mark interrupted the fancy for it is an old man an automatic fancy made as a child perhaps the mark was a small round mark black upon the white wall about six or seven inches above the mantelpiece how readily our thoughts swarm upon a new object lifting it a little way as ants carry a blade of straw so feverishly and then leave it and then leave it if that mark was made by a nail it can't have been for a picture it must have been for a miniature the miniature of a lady with white powdered curls powdered-usted cheeks and lips like red carnations a fraud of course for the people who had this house before us would have chosen pictures in that way an old picture for an old room that is the sort of picture the sort of people they were very interesting people and I think of them so often in such queer places because one will never see them again never know what happened next they wanted to leave this house because they wanted to change their style of furniture so he said and he was in process of saying that in his opinion art should have ideas behind it when we were torn asunder as one is torn from the old lady about to pour out tea and the young man about to hit the tennis ball in the back garden of the suburban villa as one rushes past in the train but as for that mark I'm not sure about it I don't believe it was made by a nail after all it's too big too round for that I might get up but if I got up and looked at it ten to one I shouldn't be able to say for certain because once a thing's done no one ever knows how it happened oh dear me the mystery of life the inaccuracy of thought the ignorance of humanity to show how very little control of our possessions we have what an accidental affair this living is after all our civilization let me just count over a few of the things lost in one lifetime beginning