Year: 1865

About a half mile from the village of
Poaktown, facing the high road to Balston,
and separated from the river Poak by a
small garden and belt of trees, is long
low cottage, known in the neighborhood as
" The Building" 1t originally consisted of
two cottages, and went by the name of
" Marwood's Buildings )" but who Marwood
was, and what induced him to build such
uncomfortable cottages, had escaped the
memory of even the Oldest inhabitants
The sitting room on the ground floor, and
two bedrooms above The original parti-
ton wall between the two cottages, and
the two separate staircases, still remained.
One led from the sitting-room to the bed
room above where Mr. Vance, the present
occupier of the building, slept; the other
went from the kitchen to the bedroom of
Mary Edgecomer, his only servant


Mr.. Joseph Vance, who was spare built
clean-shaven man of about forty, with gray
hair, and no whiskers and with nothing
remarkable about him except a deep cut
over his right eyebrow, had now been oc-
cupying the building for little over a
year. When he first came into the neigh
borhood, the gossip of Poaktown had spec
ulated a great deal as to who and what he
was, but without any basis for their con-
lectures. He never himself volunteered any
information as to his previous life, except
that on one occasion he had been heard to
say something which led to the inference
that he had been a sea captain. People,
too, who had been inside "the buildings y
since Vance's tenancy had noticed the draw
ing of ship, and some shells lying about
the room. This was considered enough to
confirm his statement, and on the strength
of it the villagers called him the captain.


Nothing more was known of the captain,
and curiosity about him had nearly died out
when Sarah Epps, on her return from Stoke
mouth, where she had been on visit to her
sister, who had married a pilot at that
fourishing seaport, brought news about
him, which set the village ear tngling for
some time. The pilot, her brother-in-law,
remembered the captain when he was in
the China trade, and Sarah was full of
smuggling stories, and even piracy, in
which the captain had taken leading part
But then all knew that Sarah was an in
corrigible gossip, and that any story under
her management would grow considerable
The captain meanwhile troubled himself
very little about the village talk, living
quiet life in his lonely cottage, with his





Sarah Epps had been heard to say that she
was more than servant to him, but then
nobody minded Sarah's tittle-tattle.


About the time our story commences, the
captain had got into some trouble. His
landlord, an easy going, well-to-do gentle
man of Poaktown, began to think, as he
expressed it, he should like to see the color
of the captains money. The house had
been occupied for more than a year, and
not penny of rent had he yet been paid.
The fact had for some time been gradually
dawning on the neighbors that, since the
first months he had occupied the building,
ready money had not been plentiful with
the captain, and that for the last eight or
nine months little or nothing had been paid
for. The sums owing were not large, for
the captain lived quiet, simple life. But
it was reckoned that, altogether, they must
amount to over gl00 and that was a Sc
rious sum to the village tradesmen, and to
all appearance a very difficult one for the
captain to pay. He was dunned, and legal
proceedings were threatened, but all at
tempts to get money were only met by civil
excuses. The patience of his creditors was
nearly exhausted, when one day circular
letter was sent to them, appointing a meet
ing for II o'clock on the following Monday
when" the captain wrote, he would sat
isfy all claims, as legacy left by distant
relation had been paid in to his account at
the Balston Bank"


On Saturday the captain walked into
Poaktown and hired gig at the Kings
Arms to take him to Ralston. Johnny Will
son, the landlords son, drove him to the
bank at Balston, where he stayed about
ten minutes, and came out at the end of
that time buttoning into the breast-pocket
of his coat a fat looking pocket-book.-
fJohnny then waited for him while he made
a few purchases in the town, and then drove
straight home to the building"


At six o'clock on Sunday morning, the in
habtants of the quiet High street of fPoak-
town were aroused by Il violent knocking
at the door of the police station. The po-
liceman who was on night duty opened the
door and Mary Edgecombe, white with ter
ror, and painting for breath, nearly fel' into his
arms gasping out that her master, the cap
tain, had been robbed and murdered III the
night. The inspector was almost immedi-
ately called and the whole available force
of the village, consisting OF two police
men, set off with him for the building"
Mary EdgecOmbe, who seemed utterly pros
trated, remained under the care of the in
spectors wife.


On reaching the building" the inspec-
tor found the front undisturbed, the win
dows closed, and the doors locked. On 60
ing round to the back, the door leading
from the sitting-room to the garden, which
sIoped down to the river, was found to be
opened, and on entering the sitting-room,
drops of blood were seen along the carpet
between the staircase and the garden doaF;
On the staircase itself the drops of blood
were more frequent. The bedroom, how
ever was clearly the place where the muir
der had been committed. The table by the
window had been pushed out of its place ;
the only two chairs in the room were lying
ON the floor. The bed, which had not been
slept in, was deluged with blood, and in
the middle of it was deep indention, as
if heavy body had been pressed down up
on it. a large clasp knife stained with
blood was lying on the pillow, and by the
door on the floor was an open pocket-book.
So much the inspector saw at glance as
he entered, He took the pocket-book, and
, looked carefully throuph tit was empty