The Washington critic., 1889-01-12
WASHINGTON CRITIC
THE GREAT LONDON MYSTERY.

their youth, were costly and comfortably
chatting over a bottle of extra dry in
Chamberlain's few evenings ago.
1T is long time since have seen
YOU" said one Of them. "It is strangely
fortunate that should have met you by
chance here iu Washington"
Eyes, the last time we were together
was when you bade me good bye on the
steamer as Harry Somers and l were
leaving for Europe"
81 remember it very well. You intro
duced me to your old friend Richard
NJ, who has made such stir as an
actor in London. How was he when
you eft2'
lie wos-oh, he was as much favor
ite as ever"
Harry did not return with your"
mo. He remained behind with NJ,
and it is not likely that he will
return to America until NJ concludes
his engagement. | would not have come
back so soon myself, but l couldn't
stand it,"
Couldn't stand what?"
"Look here. old fellow, if tell you
little story will you promise on your
honor never 10 TcpGuJ iJl
Certainly"
"Then here goes. I am glad of a
chance to share the thing with friend,
and perhaps you can advise me whether
| am doing right or not in keeping it a
secret from the world"
After filling up their glasses once more
the young man proceeded with the fol-
lowing narrative:
One evening Harry Somers, NJ
and myself were seated in Harry's room,
at the residence of some of his relatives
THAT is strange conception embod-
led in your play" said /. "That dual
character in one man. 1t is magnih-
cent idea. To think of separating the
good and evil in mans nature into two
distinct individualities. And to my
mind the deineation shows exactly what
the result would be if such a separation
could be effected"
Yes said Mr.. NJ, 'the character
Is q repulsive one in many respects but it
is spendd metaphysical study, and
there is, as you suggest, much less
nonsense about it than would at first be
supposed
But don't you have any reluctance
about presenting those hideous pictures
night after night to the public. The eff
feet cannot be wholesome"
That's fact" said Harry. "The
confounded play gave me the horrors,
the first time | saw il, to such degree
that didn't sleep wink that night, and
yet couldn't keep away from the thea
tire. Why the thing got to be a night
mare that staid by me constantly. tell
YOU | wouldn't put it on any more" :"
,aid he, with an earnestness that was en-
tirely foreign to hls nature. "You'll
drive some poor devil stark, staring crazy
yet"
That danger is rather remote i'm
agine," said NJ, with a smile; "and
yet if l had my own way / don't think
/ would continue to give the perform
ance.'
Heis glanced at my watch and seeing
that it was quarter to twelve l bade
them goodnight, and started for my
hotel.
/ hurried on through the streets,
thinking of our conversation and mus
ing on how short a time it had been
siace NJ, now the lion of both conti-
nents, was as little known as myself.
Always brilliant, and with decided
penchant for the stage, it was no won
der to me when few years since he de-
voted himself to the theatre and at
once lifted q most repulsive part from
obscurity, in which the author had left
it, Up to the most striking characteriz.
alton in the play. From this he went to
in which field he won merited favor.
His versatility was extraordinary and
whatever he undertook he did well.
His next effort was the character which
We had been discussing and IL was the
crowning achievement of his career.
Notwithstanding his extreme intellect.
uality he was not possessed of the per-
sonal friendly magnetism which might
have been looked for. There was some
thing about him which, so far as | was
concerned, at least, led me to keep my
distance.
But Harry was not affected in this way,
he seemed to worship NJ. He would
60 to the play night after night, and on
one or two occasions amused party OF
frerlas by giving an exceedingly clever
imitation of NJ as he appeared in the
performance. 1t became apparent, how.
ever, after time, that any requests of
this kind were very distasteful TO him
and his friends now ceased TO ask him to
give the imitation. He seemed to grow
rather moody and detected, but he was
always devoted to NJ, and seemed un'
willing to be absent from him at any
time.
AS these thoughts were passing through
his mind l noted that II drizzling rair
had set in. / looked about me for a cal
and discovered that had lost my way
sign board told me that | was in the
Whitechapel district. The sight of the
name filled me with a strange dread
not a sense Of physical danger, bu
something of the same feeling that {
man has when he spends night in
room that is known as being haunted
i hurried to get away from the place as
quickly as possible. As | passed mar
row alley i heard q low sound thai
seemed like the stifled moan of human
being in horrible pain. | stopped anC
| must confess that l shook with an un
controllable terror
You will remember that shortly before
] left for America all London became
stirred up over repeated and mysterious
murders. Women were waylaid and slair
In the most brutal manner by some ticnd
lsh monster whose ferocity was only
equaled by his cunning. The little uni
verse of London was agog with apprehen
sion, and the telegraph quickly spread thC
excitement throughout the world. TIL,
slaughter was confined to the vicinity o
White-chapel-the very spot where
was standing.
shook off my fears and rushed to tn,
place where the sound came; in the din
light saw form cast a lifeles5 some
thing down to the earth and come in m,
direction. | stepped into u shadow anC