Year: 1874

L relate Tor their Deneht the following
legend about a certain London house.
For obvious reasons L suppress the
names of persons and exact localities,
and further desire it to be understood
that 1 do not hold myself responsible
for the accurate truth of all the details
of the story / need only add that the
events are to be taken as having oc-
CURED some years ago.


Some years ago, then, a gentleman
whom we will call Colonel Somerville,
was desirous of buying a house in the
west end Of the town, and passing one
day, through a well-known square, he
observed q house to be sold, which
seemed to him, as far as outside ap-
pearances and situation were concerned,
to be the very thing he wanted. The
printed bill referred him to a firm of
estate agents in the city, and TO them
he at once went, though he could not
help entertaining a misgiving that the
price would be exorbitantly high and
beyond his means. No harm, however,
could be done by simple inquiry. He
was agreeably astonished to find that
that the sum demanded was only four
thousand pounds. Not being COM
mercial man, he could not help express
ing his astOnishment at the small sum
demanded, and naiyely inquired if the
mansion was very much out of repair.
The representative of the firm unhesi
tatingly replied that the house was IN
very good repair, and would not require
more than the usual outlay upon deco
ration. The colonel pressed his in
quiries, and, as he seemed to be likely
and desirable purchaser, he was soon
informed of the circumstances under
, which the house in question was to he
sold. 1t had belonged to q queer old
gentleman who lived in Clerkenwell,
and who had died intestate, and the
sale was ordered by his next of kin, who
had been found with some difficulty
This old gentleman had died, strangely
enough, in the very act of drawing up
his will. He had Just penRed the words
"And L desire that my house in
Square should be" when some kind
of tit seized him, aud he was discov-
cred the next morning by his house
keeper dead in his chair. Now the next
of kin was found in Australia, or some
remote colony, and WAS anxious to
realize the property as quickly as pos
sible. The house in - Square had
been uninhabited for years. There was
not a scrap of furniture in it; but it
had been scrupulously cared for and
kept clean by an elderly deaf woman,
who did not live in it, but used to go to
it every morning and spend almost all
day there, and preserved it in such
condition that the owner might have
furnished it at any time, and come to
live there without experiencing any
sense of discomfort which would ordi-
narily arise from residing in a house
which had not been inhabited for a long
time 1t was well known, L may add,
that the elderly care-taker never slept
there. The Colonel went to vie< the
house. He found that he had not been
deceived by external appearances, or by
the description of the accommodation
detailed by the agent it was, in short.
Just such a house as he and his wife
wanted for town residence, and IN due
course the purchase was completed. AS
ne was in no particular hurry to enter,
and as Mrs. Somerville happened to be
unwell at this particular time, and IN
able to come to London to superintend
the furnishing, he contented himself
with preparing bedroom for his own
use on the first floor, and another for
his valet on the floor above. He retained
the services of the elderly deaf woman,
who appeared to be grateful for his
consideration, as she alleged that the
pay she received for her trouble was
almost all that she had 70 live on. The
house became the property of the
Colonel at Midsummer 1S5-. Towards
the end of July the rooms mentioned
were furnished in a temporary manner
for the accommodation of the Colonel,
who at that time was frequently called
to town on business, but Ii was not till
the first week in August that Colonel
Somerville, accompanied by a valet who
had been in his service for about two
years, actually entered as a resident.
But in that house he only remained one
night and he never slept there again.


He arrived in town about midday, on
the Wednesday in the first week in
August. The day WIS oppressively
gloomy AID dull IN the country, and all
London seemed to be seethipg in a
sullen heat He went with his valet
straight 10 his new house iu-Sluare.
The cabman took the fare offered to
HIM without grumbling, observing (as
he glanced somewhat suspiciously at
the house), "This is the first time as l
ever drove q gentleman, nor a lady
neither, to this here 'ouse, and he went
away as quickly as he could


Colonel Somervi'le took no notice of
the remark at the time, though it came
vividly to his recollection afterwards.


Having deposited his luggage, and
seen that his room looked tolerably
comfortab ble, he told his servant that he
intended To dine at his club and should
be home about eleven. The elderly
deaf woman, / should say, WAS In at
tendance.


Well, the Colonel transacted his busi-
ness, dined at his club with friend,
and returned to his house shortly after
IL o'clock. His servant, q smart, active
young fellow, opened the door for him.
showed him to his room, asked for his
orders for the morning, and, having re-
ceiyed them, retired to his room above.


1t was hot in the streets as Colonel
Somerville drove home IL was hotter
still in his bedroom, yet he felt scarcely
any inclination to sleep. Another cigar,
he thought, would soothe him into
somnoiency, so he accordingly lit one,
and tried to amuse himself by consider
ing how he should furnish his new
house, having due regard to the exigen-
cies of London gas and atmosphere.
His cigar finished, he undressed lei
surely and got into bed; the wind, such
as there was, came from the south, and
he heard the great clock of Westminster
strike twelve. By-and-by he heard the
quarter, and then the half hour, and
then he fell off into a dose from which
he was awakened by repeated knocks at
his door. He called out "Who's there ?"
but the answer was unintellgible,
though he heard a voice in reply. He
hastily Int the candle, and opened the
door. In the passage he found his
Sarvaut half dreSsed looking friphtfully