The Birkenhead News and Wirral General Advertiser. — 1882-09-16 (Birkenhead, Merseyside, England)

AND FREE.  The shadows of night had fallen upon Glasgow, when a well-formed young man, of whom we have much to tell, Walked with doubtful steps up Buchanan-street. He examined the buildings on each side with some care. Now and again he slackened his pace; once he stopped as though he had resolved to take some other direction : but he continued on his way, looking round him wistfully. His dark, sunburnt face was almost fierce in its expression, albeit not cruel. His jaw might have been _hewn out of the solid granite, so herd and firm did it appear. He had strange, wild, full eyes, of extraordinary blackness and lustre, and long, though thin, raven hair fell upon his broad shoulders. His clothes, made of good material, were cut with more regard to comfort than fashion. There was an unmistakable foreign air about him; even the small valise he carried with him was of an uncommon shape. At a point about half-way up the hill he again stopped. This time a sign upon a corner house arrested his progress; it ran—" Darvis's Temperance Hotel." He read it more than once, and seemed to hesitate. At last he crossed the road and rang Mr. Durvis's bell.  "I want a bedroom," he said, in excellent English, though with an faint French accent, that gave you the idea of an Englishman who had been a long time abroad rather than of a foreigner who had conquered our langaarge. "Can I sleep here 2" The woman he addressed would have shown him a bed-chamber on a higher flat.  "If you have nothing down here it will not do," he said. "I prefer to Bleep on this f103r." He pointed to a door that was exactly opposite to the entrance to the house. "Is that a bedroom ?" he asked. I- was a double-bedded one. He could have it if he desired, but it was a little more expensive than the single one upstairs. He shrugged his shoulders. "I do not mind the difference in the price," he declared, "I will sleep here." By this time he had entered it. As he finished speaking he threw his valise on a chair, and sat upon another himself. The woman asked whether he would not take some tea or supper. He wanted nothing, he said; he was going to sleep at once. So she left him. As the grey light of dawn was creeping slowly—so slowly—through the city the dwellers in Durvis's Temperance Hotel were aroused from their sleep by a piercing scream, which echoed and re-echoed through the building, and clung about the walls for many minutes. This appalling cry of terror came from the Drudge of the establishment, who had a oufficiently remarkable experience to relate. She bad lighted the kitchen fire, and, with a tallow candle in her hand, was collecting the boots from the various bedroom doors, when she heard and felt a something brush past her. She turned sharply, and by the indifferent light she carried she saw a bent old man, all rags and tatters, hurrying from her towards the main door. She was so terrified she could only sercam. She stood powerless, as the weird-look ing figure pulled back the bolts and opened the door. As he left the place he half turned, and she had a glimpse of his face. She described his eyes as being very terrible—like live coal§ glowing through white wool. Everyone was cross atbeing disturbed, and laughed at her story. To be sure the main door was unlocked and unbolted, but who could say that the foolish girl had not released these fastenings herself? Her mistress chided her with much acrimony. Durvis's Temperance Hotel was a quiet steady-going house, and knew nothing of apparitions or of ragged old men. The drudge, with scared fsce, blundered through her work. The rest sought their beds. At twelve o'clock the drudge called the attention of Mrs. Durvis to the fact that the dark young man with the musical, sensuous voice, who had taken the double-bedded room on the previous night, had not risen. She did not add that he had failed to place his boots outside his door. Why should she? Did not his forgetfulness diminish her labour? Perhaps they were very worn and he was ashamed of them. The drudge had known such lodgers. "We will give him another hour," said Mrs. Durvis, and at the end of that time the drudge knocked at the bedroom door. There was to response. Her mistress, who had began to tremble,  _ had joined her. Besides- the mess and the bother, it would seriously injure the reputation of the hotel had the young man been inconsiderate enough to commit suicide in that room. At last they turned the handle of the door, and, not without trepidation, entered the apartmet. It was enoptl. The landlady commenced to vehemently inveigh against the dishonesty and general evilness of modern young men, when the Drudge discovered a new, bright half-crown upon the high chest of drawers that stood facing the fireplace. Mrs. Durvis put it in her pocket, and silently returned to the steak she bad been attempting to cook. The Drudge found something else. In one of the misty corners of that bulge bedded room she stumbled upon