The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1872-02-24
A LOAN FROM THE DEAD.

ment to which l. then belonged was
uuartered at Aldershott. After long
absence from England, spent on a
parch1ng rock in the middle of the Red
sea, bleak and dreary Aldershott seem
ed very paradise. IT was delightfully."-
near London, too leave was easily to
be obtained; and great part of my
spare time, and more than all my spare
money, was spent by me in the metrop-
olis-spent, l am ashamed to confess,
in riotous living and much disorder
Still, had il only been that, l should
possibly, like many of my brother Of
ticers, at the cost of much subsequent
have passed through my cycle of dissi-
patton, and settled down at last; but,
in addition to my youthful alterations,
I had fatal prediction for games of
skill and chance.
L was the best whist player in the
regiment, and could hold my own with
the crack players of the clubs; and had
| stuck to whist, which, in my belief,
never ruined any man who had a head
upon his shoulders, [ could have made
decent income out of my skill; but
my moderate winnings at whist were
swallowed up, and much more lost be-
side, at unlimited loo, blind hockey.
hazard, and other kindred games. To
crown all, | took to backing horses,
and lost at that, | need hardly say. A
long run of evil luck beset me; 1 had
lost all of my available funds, had
mortgaged my commission to the ut
most penny | could raise upon it, and
e
| week, fevered and parched in body, in
soul wretched and despairing. [ had
come to the end of my tether | was
regularly done up; life had nothing but
evil in store for me. On the following
week [ should be posted as a defaultel
on the turf; | should leave the army in
disgrace, and such tidings would kill
my old widowed mother.
1t was Sunday night; [ had been to
London, trying to raise money, but
uselessly; the Jews closed their fists to
me. [ only wanted a hundred pounds
to pay my Derby losses; this achieved,
[ could sell out and retire without open
disgrace; but [ couldn't raise it, One
man offered me fifty pounds for my bill
of two hundred and fifty pounds at
three months, but [ wasn't quite so
mad as to take that might as we'll
smash for hundred and fifty.
My last sovereign was changed by
paying my hotel bill on that Sunday
night. / had a return ticket to Alder
shott in my pocket, and few shilllngs
besides; nothing else in the world IN
the way of available assets. I think if
[ had been possessed of a five pound
note, [ should have gone down to Liv-
erpool, and taken steerage passage to
America. 1t was the limited extent of
my means which made me resolve to go
back to my quarters at Afdershott, and
appear on parade the next day.
The clock ID the coffee room where I
was sitting showed half past IL as the
hour of the night: the waiter only was
III the room, arranging his spoons ana
napkins in the buffet, yawning surrep-
titiously every now and then, quite in
different to the problems which were
agitating me,-Waterloo bridge or
Aldershott ? [ must make up my mind
quickly; another five minutes and it
would be too late for the one the 9th
CT was open.
"Waiter, Hanson :" [ shouted all
of sudden, in a tone which made the
man Jump.
At that time there was train which
left-not Waterloo, but some station
little distance down the line; it might
have been Vauxhall, or possibly Nine
Elms, / scarcely remember which-left
the station at midnight. 1t was popu-
larry known among us as the cold-meat
train. Its passengers were dead bodies
for the Working cemetery. The COM
pany ever sOlicitouS to accommodate
the public and turn an honest penny,
had, for the convenience of the camp.
affixed to this train one tirst-class car
rlage. After leaving the dead bodies at
Working, the carriage was run on to
Marlborough, whence you could walk
to the camp, if you had not been pru-
dent enough to order a fly to meet you.
The hotel servant who ushered me to
the cab got handsome gratuity for
his pains 1t was my leave taking of
the world of pleasure, and L was too
insolent to be careful about little mat
tiers. The cab sped me quickly to the
station; but the clock at the hotel had
been slow; as we passed under the
railway arch premonitory shrek from
the engine overhead warned me that the
train was on the point of starting. [
stopped the cab at the bridge, and ran
up narrow flight of stairs which led
directly on to the end of the platform
known only to the initiated the train
was moving on, but / had just time,
despite warning shouts of guard and
porters, to open the door of the last
carriage and jump in. The other com
partments OF the carriage | noticed
were lighted, but this one was dark !;
that didn't affect me. [ didn't want to
read. [ took out a box of wax matches
and proceeded to light cigar
As the glow of the match lit up the
interior of the carriage / saw in the
corner of a long, dark object, quite
black, and yet with some little metallic
CLEAN about it. 1t was a coffin, reared
up at the farther side of the carriage,
board being placed behind it, against
which it leaned As | looked stead
lastly at the coffin it appeared sudden
ly to glow with a faint radiance. Every
nail and every plate upon it began to
CLEAN with strong, mysterious light.
Bah it was the moon. We had Just
left the clouds of London behind us,
and the great round moon, rising out of
river mists, east her glorious beams
right athwart Us, but / turned away
from her in disgust What was the
beauty of the night to me, "a ruined
spendthrlft,-the scorn and laughing
stock OF the world The black coffin
on the other side was a more congenial
companion to me. | lit another match,
ana read the inscription on the plate:
William Heathcote, died 18th of
May, Is, aged % years"