Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1878-08-03
NO. 1872.
Gales and Sketehfs.
THE SHADOW OF A DREAM.
Continued from Yesterday

Thus concluding on the morning after
my expedition with Mr.. Shepfod, had but
to wait for this the momentons day. 1t
comes and in few hours | shall be on my
road. For the last seven successive nights,
the vision. with all its latent circum-
stances, has been present whenever
through sheer fatigue have given way to
sleep whilst by day. its shadow has
darkened me hourly. to the exclusion OF
all but that scene on the Whiteways.
81 start, at least prepared"
Very dim was the light, however, that
this statement let in upon the catastrophe.
To be brief, it led to nothing practical;
nothing could be done until young Chase
had recovered sufficiently to be able to
give personal account Of the affair.
Months passed before this was possible
his health returned very slowly. The
doctors forbade any questioning or excite
ment and | really didn't know the details
of anything that had transpired until he
was pronounced fl to appear before our
board of directors.
Then | was present, with the rest OF the
people concerned. 1t was like private
court of justice, and young Chase was ar
raigned. as it were, like criminal.
When he came into the room his altered
appearance was startling. had only seen
him twice since his setting out on the fatal
journey; once. when he was lying quite
insensible al the turnpike and once when
he was only little better. at the county
hospital. He now looked twenty years
older; his thin. pale face was deeply fur.
rowed, his long, dark hair thickly tlnged
with gray and the dreamy expression in his
large eyes had changed to one of wldness.
M ~ 10 hlan al al, 9th adj t<,h ir1
ghostlke appearance. He pulled himself
together, however, by great effort. and,
in answer to the questions the chairman
put, this is about what he said, as near as
can remember.
The statement which you found, gen.
tlemen, addressed to my poor mother, and
which you have just read to me, is strict
y true to the letter 1t is fuller than any
account could give now of my feelings
and state of mind prior to the 18th of No
vember. have very little to add, but |
will tell you what can.
"As | approached the Whiteways on my
return homeward journey, all the conGi-
tons of my dream were realized. ap-
peared TO have been within them so often
before that might have been dreaming
them. Everything was so familiar. There
was no difference between my sensations
asleep or awake. | had no sense of be-
ing. of actual existence. in one state more
than in the other. felt | was gliding to
my destiny. gliding without bodily effort.
precisely as one does in sleep. | can give
no better account of what happened. The
fog wrapped me round. There was an in
terval, an impression that l was strug-
Cling, | appeared to fall and then
awOke in the hospital, two months back.
can tell you no more"
but did you see no one Did no one
stop yonP"
mo one, that | am aware of; but
could not swear to it," was the answer.
'But the pistols; were they yours ?"
Yes mechanically had provided my
self with them but with no thought of
using them. Ii | remember rightly, l
took them from my pocket and placed
them between my ieet when left Dene's
Gate. | wished no one to know that /
was armed"
"And, on your word and honor, Mr..
Chase, you do not remember being at
tackled"
"On my oath, remember no more
than | have told you.'
'And the money where was that ?"
''In the driving seat under me, in the
padlocked leather bag which Mr.. Shep-
fold always used"
"You know nothing more OF it than
that it was there when You started ?"
Nothing; on my OATH"
''Then. after long pause, during
which many signs of dissatisfaction spread
through all listeners, the chairman con-
tinued, as he referred to Chase's state
ment;
"lt is now my duty to ask you to whom,
in this extraordinary story you have Civ
en- of your dream, you refer as your vis-
ionary assailant. 1t is most essential
vital to your interests-that you keep
nothing back from us, whether asleep
or awake"
Here Chase was visibly moved. He
shrank, as it were, within himself; he
dropped his eyes, covering. Presently
he sand, recovering slightly:
Il had hoped to have been spared this,
seeing that my words were intended for
no eyes but my mothers
"The whole business" went on the
chairman, lis so visionary and unsatistac-
tory that YOU are bound to explain to
whom yOu refer; your position with us
demands it. You have been q tried and
trustworthy servant, but You will forfeit
all the past ii you do not aid US IN our ef-
forts to discover the peipetrator OF this
robbery. An indication OF who this mys-
terous person is may give US a clue. l
conjure you to tell us everything, MIR.
Chase"
Again he resisted again he was urged
to speak he continued SILENT growing
paler every moment. There was nerv-
Gus clutching OF the hands and twilehiaS
OF the mouth; he staggered as If he were
going to faint; he sank upon chair and
his head dropped. Once again the chair
man insisted, commanding him to say TO
whom he alluded.
AT length he arose, looking more like
ghost than anybody | ever saw. and, gaz-
ing vacantly around the room with re-
turn of his old dreamy air, said in faint
and hollow voice, and without seeming
to address any one in particular: III
matters little now. The shadow tails up
on me for the last time; it can never lit
again. He casts 1t upon me; he has
bllghted my life; he hastens my DEATH"
who? Whom do yon menP" cried the
chairman. For one minute Chase seemed