The record-union., 1896-02-29

You have seen, of course, the expos
ure OF the plagiarism of which you have
| been guilty. We have withdrawn the
book from the market and shall at once
issue a circular to dealers asking for
| the return Of unsold copies and author
izing them to refund the price of the
book to all individual purchasers who
| may so desire, at our expense. You are,
no doubt, aware that we might obtain
| legal redress for the fraud which you
| have practiced upon US, but after due
consideration we have decided to leave
| you for punishment to the lashes of
public scorn and your own conscience.
To protect the reputation of our house,
we have given to the Associated Press
a full statement of the matter, which
will doubtless appear in to-morrow's
pc pers."
The utter hopelessness of any explain
alton which would convince the firm
| or the public that ] was anything but an
arrant imposter, together with my own
inability to find any solution of the
mystery which would seem tenable to
my own mind, was too much for either
my mental or my physical nature to
endure. / sought my bed in despair,
and morning found me in a semi-delir
ious fever, which rapidly grew worse,
| and kept me at the point of death, as
| was afterward told by the nurse who
had been secured to attend me, for full
two months. When / was at length
atle to get on my feet again / resolved
to make one last effort to clear my
| character in the eyes of the publishers.
After paying the bills incurred during
my sickness, took certified check for
my balance at the bank-about $400-
and made my way to their office The
senior member Of the firm was at his
desk alone when / entered He coldly
nodded me to a chair, which / gladly
took, as | was too weak to stand any
longer. After a moments hesitation,
without raising my eyes from the floor,
| said what little there was for me to
say-how absolutely certain l was that
| had written the story without the
slightest knowledge that any part of it
had ever existed until it was created in
my own brain, and yet how unable 1
was to conceive of any way in which to
account for it's evident identity with the
old French romance. / closed by draw
ing the check from my pocket and offer
ing it to him as the only reparation
which it was in my power to make for
the loss which the firm had suffered on
nay account. He refused to take it with
an air of displeasure and contempt
which convinced me at once that it
was of no use to renew the offer, or to
hope for the slightest alteration in his
opinion of my character, and / turned
and left the room without another
word
With no definite purpose in view-too
weak and detected even to think of
definite purpose got my clothes and
few books into my trunk, drew my
money from the bank, and took the
train for a city in the far West.
/ felt that / must get in some kind
of employment, not only because my
little hoard Of money would soon be
exhausted, but because the weight of
misery which / carried on my mind
was becoming unbearable in idleness.
Gradually / drifted into reportorial
work of low order on the various dali
lies of the city, but I was afraid to seek
position of any considerable respon-
sibility or honor for fear of an inquiry
into my antecedents which would dis
close my identity.
But this disclosure was not to be
averted by my modesty. / had not been
three months in the city when a tramp
printer turned up who had known me In
New York, and at once recognized me,
in spite of the great changes which my
suffering had produced. Within a
week, though not word was said in
my hearing, the changed attitude of the
newspaper acquaintances told me only
too plainly that all was known. A
few days later a sensational sheet con-
tanned the following item: 1T is said on
good authority that Anson Burkhold,
the notorious plagiarist, is doing repor-
tcrial work in this city under an as
sumed name" / could not endure to
meet my acquaintances after that, and
daylight Monday morning found me on
my way to New Orleans.
1t is not necessary 10 follow the next
few years of my life IN detail. It was
the same experience over and over
again. Repeatedly severing, as
thought all connection with my past
life, I invariably found it looming up
across my path again and driving me
from place to place until | became at
last so hopeless of permanence that
no longer considered it worth while to
engage lodgings for more than a week
in advance, or enter into any contract
for continued literary work.
1t was not until several years of this
wandering life had elapsed that the
thought of a systematic and persistent
attempt to unravel the mystery of my
downfall took hold upon my mind.
When once this idea did occur, however,
! it rapidly gained in strength / read
such authentic accounts as I could find
of the successful solution of apparently
hopeless mysteries, ard this gave me
much encouragement ] happened to be
in Montreal at the time, and had gained
the friendship there of a man of means,
with no settled occupation, who had
natural taste for the mysterious and
| improbable and took kind of pride in
maintaining the possibility of alleged
occurrences which practical men only
laughed at as cases of evident fraud or
| illusion. ] went to his house one even
| ing, told him my story to the minutest
detail, earnestly alleged my innocence
of the apparent dishonesty. and stated
my purpose, even at this late day, to
solve the problem if human ingenuity
could accomplish it.
Mr.. GaltonI forgot to mention his
name above-at once took an enthusias-
he was patron of the Society for
! Psychical Research, and the matter
seemed to promise valuable material
for its consideration. 1 had great con-
fidence in his sagacity, and went back
to my lodgings with a more hopeful
heart than I had known for many a day,