The Montgomery advertiser., 1902-04-20
The Last Tribute te His
 Genius.

BY CYRUS TOWNSEND BRADY.
 Copyright. 1902, by Daily Story Pub. Co)
 The crime had been one of peculiar atrociousness. While the little old man who kept the quaint curiosity shop down on Linden Street seemed to have few or no friends, he was blessed with great many acQuainfances. especially among the people of the better class, for whom it was quite fad to visit the dlnsy bric-a-brac, moidy books. articles Of virtu and antiuues genuine pr spurious. valuable or worthless. all heaped about in promiscuous confusion.
 Indeed, the Major was not the least curious in the collection. Few people knew that the title represented gallant and youthful soldering in Rebellion days before he shriveled and dried up in the musty little shop. When, therefore, he was found dead amongst his raffle of goods. about half after ! on summer evening, with his brains brutaI,y beaten out ty a hammer. which lay Icy ais side, the greatest excitement was n,anifest6d everywhere. That a man should be mur dered in 6 store or one of the main thor. oughfares of the city at that hour, and in that way; that the murdtres should make his escape by the front door. which was left open. were in thems dyes sum icentl, remarkable facts to engage wide spread attention.
 Rewards were offered by the city gov ernment: the metropolitan police force. supplemented by tha best detectives that could he imported, who were paid by case in vain No clue presented I itself, nothing whatever was discovered The contents of the shop were finally sold al auction, and the store was closed: The estate. which was surprisingly small contrary to the general opinion. which. in fact. consisted merely of the proceeds cf the sale oi the goods, was administered in the interests of some distant connec- tions. and the whole affair, after a short time. was practically forgotten. Yet somewhere on the earth a man wandered with the guilt of murder heavy on his soul.
 , When it was announced in the adver- tisem..nts that Sir Richard with,rs, the great Canadin actor. was to play The Bells" on Thursday night, society--and those not within the charmed circle who could scrape together the unusual price demanded by the elaborate nature of Sir Richards staging, anticipated a great in- teliectual treat. To see the character of Matthias interpreted by such a master of the tragic art could hardly be called en- tertaining. of course. yet anything which takes us out of the humdrum of every day life and qMckens the blood that beats with such commonplace sluggish ness ordinarily. Is most desirable. II Is easy. thegefore. to understand the avidity with which the opportunity for paying
 
 mortified was welcomed.
 The play with its damna5le iteration of chiming sleigh bells. and with it's awful portrayal of the struggles If crime stained human soul against diabolic rnenn- uries. proceeded with that wonderful smoothness and effectiveness for which Sir Richards productions were fansous After the short intern1ission at the close of the second act the audience. r'ost of whom were familiar with the story, set | fhanaaiyeq vytfh dpliCfon4 thrills nf foreboding anticipation to witness the dreadful and narrowing denouemert in which the murderer's dream that the crime of years is at last exposed and the brand of guilt Is fixed upon his hon- ored brow, is exhibited or the stage ir all its terrific realism.
 The house, including the stage, was totally dark. A weird, ghastly beam of upon the face of Sir Richard-no. of
 Matthias himself. The great actor s identity was lost. merged, forgotten. In the character ne portrayed. Not another thing could be perceived in the 'theater. The gaze of every man and woman and child in that vast assemblage was coii- | centrated upon that beautiful, mobile | terrible fase. The silence with which the
 audience listened to that piercing, shud. l dering voice ont of the darkness was op- | pressive. Could ones attention have been | distracted from that stage he might have | caught the quickening intake if deer | breaths, or here and there marked the | low quivering sigh with which nervous | people, under tc Influence of that terrible | portrayal of the agony of rep'orse and ap l prchension at detected murder, tremblet | watched and waited.
 | Yet there was nothing actually to p' l seen In the Opera House but the face O
 the actor. or sometimes white, ghastl, i hand and dim, dark sugestfon of ; ! body writhin3 In mortal tortnrc, so keei | as almost to pass belief, in a tour d,
 force of unwilling confession. The de
 tachment was perfect, the illusion wal