Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1896-08-22

| " Se\I don. L was en-
VS. EtS'S:. Y gagged in rather 6
'GSISEIgtN large literary un
GCSMaT&S dertaking; in fact,
@% I was writing 9
20 v: novel. I had en-
gagged myself to gel
the work in question completed by q
certain date, and In order to do SO
found myself compelled to throw over
all other occupation for the time be.
ing. knew very few people in the
town where I was living, and for five
or SIX weeks had scarcely seen anyone
to speak to.
So engrossed was I with my task
that I had no time to read the news
paper, and was quite ignorant of what
was going on in the world. The only
relaxation I allowed myself was good
brisk walk into the country every
afternoon. With this exception had
hardly stirred from my house, except
to run up to London once or twice for
the purpose of visiting the docks, and
making certain technical investiga.
tions concerning them. This did, as
good portion of the novel I was
working at was about the life of dock.
surroundings in the vicinity of Roth.
erhithe.
1t was little after eight o'clock one
evening in April, that I finished the
second volume of my work. It was
with great satisfaction that I wrote,
and with considerable flourish, too,
the words: END of Volume the Sec.
ond." generally worked up till ten or
eleven, but it was useless doing any
more that night; so I put on my hat
and coat and started off for an even.
ing stroll. I had no sooner stepped
into the street than boy acsosted me
with a bundle of papers under his
arm, and the request: "Buy an
evening paper, sirr" I bought one,
put it in my pocket, and resumed my
walk.
1t was fine night, and went some
little distance, reaching home q little
after half.past nine. Ny landladv had
brought in my supper, and as my walk
had given me an appetite, it was with
no small pleasure that I viewed a
goodly joint of cold beef waiting my
attack. I took off my boots and put
on my slippers. Then sat down and
did ample justice to my cold repast.
had laid down the newspaper on
the table when entering the room, in.
tending to read it during supper, but
my appetite had got the better of any
craving for intelligence, so it was not
till I had lit pipe and subsidized into
a cosy arm. chair by the fire that I I'M
folded the sheet of printed matter. I
looked at the ''ieader." Something
about a new "Greek Loan" That
didn't interest me. skipped through
the little items of news and hurried
jottings, and summaries peculiar to
our evening papers. Presently my eye
was caught with the following para
graph heading:
IMPENDING EXECUTION OF THE
CLINFOLD MURDERER"
There is q morbid fascination for
most people in an execution, and so,
yielding to this feeling, I proceeded
to read the paragraph.
"The murderer of the unfortunate
James Renfrew will be hanged to.
morrow morning at 8 o'clock. The
wretohed man, whose name-Charles
Fenthurst - is now in everybodJ's
mouth, still persists in his plea of in
nocence."
Here ] became deeply interested.
The name of Fenthurst was most ia.
milisr to me. I had formed deep
friendship with a man of that name.
He was good fifteen years my senior
and had died about two years previ.
ously. knew he had a son named
Charles, young fellow, who had en-
igrated to South Africa early in life,
and who was generally supposed to be
working at the diamond mines. Gould
this be the same man? read on.
1T will be remembered that at the
trial the strongest circumstantial evil
dence was brought to bear upon Fen.
thurst. The murder took place in a
house on the outskirts OF the small town
of Clinfold. 1t was proved that Fen.
thurst was in the habit of frequenting
Renfrew's premises, and that appar.
emily he was expected there on the
evening in question. He was seen
near the place soon after the crime
was committed, and several other
proofs of q strongly condemnatory
character were also laid against him.
He has persisted from the first, how.
ever, in maintaining that he was alb.
sent from Clinfold at the very time
the murder took place. This was
about z o'clock in the evening. At
that hour, he says, he was returning
from London, where he had been
spending part OF the day; only one
witness, he says, could prove this, and
that is an individual who travelled
with him as far az P and entered
into conversation with him. Adver-
tisements have been inserted in all
the papers by Fenthurst's legal advis-
ers, for the purpose Of discovering
the individual in question, but as no
answer has been forthcoming, it is
generally believed that the whole story
is myth. At any rate, there seems
but small chance Of an alibi being
proved at the last moment. The muir.
der was committed on February 6.
Since his condemnation the murderer
has been confined in Silkminster jail.
where his execution will take place. "
Astonishment and dismay confront
ed me as ] laid the paper down. I
was the missing witness they had so
vsinly sought. I distinctly remem-
bered, early in February, running up
to town rather late in the afternoon,
spending just half an hour there, and
returning by the first train I could
catch. My landlady didn't even know
but that had been for rather longer
walk than usual. I had entered into
convereation on the return journey
with the only other occupant of my
compartment, a young man with a
small black bag, on which were paint.
ed the letters 20. y" remembered