Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1878-08-02
Gales and Sketehes.
THE SHADOW OF A DREAM.
CONTINUED from Yesterday


anime the gig. and you'll understand that
all this time my mind was running on the
cash. Was that safe, | wondered
| To my dismay there was not sign of
| it in the driving seat. This led to more
questioning OF Muzzle, but he swore there
was nothing else on the road, except
what he had produced. 1t seemed as if
he were about right, for, to cut this part
OF my story short, we could not come on
any trace of it, though we knew pretty
well to penny how much young Chase
had, and what shape it was in. After
wards sort OF suspicion did fall on Muz-
zle, and the man who helped him; their
belongings were all overhauled, but with
no result. ! need not tell you that this
affair made great commotion for miles
round. 1t got into the London papers.
We had host of inspectors and detectives
down; our bank offered reward. and SO
did the government, for the apprehension
| of the thief
Young Chase lay at the turnpike for
over fortnight. quite inseDsibe, like a
log. He had received conclusion of the
brain, the doctors said; but beyond this,
there was no injury apparent. They
couldn't quite make il out no more could
anybody, for the mater OF that and even
|
opened his eyes, he was for month or
two unable to speak coherently, or un-
derstand what was said to him. All this
while, you can guess what enquiries and
examinations were going on in all direc-
tions, but there was no clue to the rob-
berry. for robbery there had been, no
doubt, or where was the money? One of
the pistols was discovered to be loaded,
Will st the other, though the hammer was
down. did not appear to have been fired;
both pan and barrel were quite empty and
clean clearly he had not been shot at.
Then tJ whom did the pistols belongP
lie was never known to possess any, and
they bore no makers name at least there
were no signs that it had been erased.
The keenest wits of Scotland Yard were
bailled: we could make nothing of it I; not
IA person was apprehended, even on sus-
pcion.
| must now tell you, however, as i'll
luck would have it, the news of the poor
young fellows mischance was such se-
we're shock to his aged mother-the only
relative he had, that we knew of-that she
died two days alter she heard of it,
Hence | was depule ed privately by our di-
rectors to look over young Chase's room
and effects. This led to our getting
sort OF clue-at least it made link in the
chain, though perhaps on the whole. it
rather added to the mystery, as you will
say, when you have read this paper. ]
found it in an envelope inscribed with
these words ITO be given to my moth
er. if do not return this night from Meres-
dene, - November Is, 1876"
And this is what the paper contained
Years have passed since the first faint
| shadow fell
| have put it aside again and again, as an
Idle ana vain imagining, but it has always
returned; sooner or later, the vison had
always revisited my pillow. "Still, how
could /, sensible man. with my faculties
about me, conceive that it should mean
anything more than one of those curious
freaks of our uncontrolled sleeping
thoughts common to alle How could /
imagine that it pointed to a reality =? yet,
when six months ago, l found that crcum-
stances beyond my control had brought
me into The sort OF country that made the
background to this dream, | marked the
strangeness of the coincidence. When.
too, | found with this that the dream was
tar more frequent in recurrence, and more
vivid and crcumstantal in detail, | was
not the less impressed. And when at last
| saw that events were conspiring TO ne
cessitate my making a night journey
across the downs alone, the shadow of the
dream oppressed me with vague dread.
| used to think of Hamlet's words "Oh
God could be bounded in a nut shell,
and count myself king OF infinite space,
were it not that | have bad dreams!" l
was absolutely sure, when starting on that
preliminary drive last week, that 1 should
see the spot. | knew that it was fore
Il tl
the brow of that last big down, and came
upon what they call the Waterways, and
the hill road running past the chalk-cut-
ting lay before me, instantly recognized
the pace which had for all these years
been the one prevailing picture OF my
dream.
There it was There was the scene, as
it first family presented itself to my sleep
ing eyes years ago as it has ever since con-
tinued to come before them at intervals
with increasing vividness. The effect on
the landscape of winters twilight, deep
ening into night, began to suggest itself at
tier awhile. In addition to this, | could at
times discern, but only in that vague man
ner belonging to dreams, a horse and gig
toiling slowly up the hill. This incident
laso gradually increased in reality, and by
the time | had been here at Clarendon
month | could often see that it was myself
who was driving. Almost every night
dreamt that | saw myself doing this.
was alone in the gig. the lamps were
lighted, and gave to the white horse. and
the chalk-cutting under which was for
ever passing, q spectral aspect. never
seemed to get beyond this spot. until
there first arose talk in the office about
the possibility of my having to do our
chief clerks (Mr. Shepfold's) work at
Meresdene Alter this, there was change
and confusion in the vision. A frosty fog
hung about; the gig-lamps glimmered
through it fitfully, giving an unusual
phantom-llke look to all beheld. | saw
myself for An instant driving as usual, but
the next the horse and gig mad vanished.
and was bending over the form Of a
man prastrate on the road. In one of his
hands he held the leather padlocked bag
which contained the bank money. A
Grape mask hid his face, but there was an
ominous streak of red upon the white
| fCoptinusd an fourfh pasa.I