comic, what about poor Art and his trouble? Why his heart was
simply breaking."
"Just so. Said he not that the transfusion of his blood to her
veins had made her truly his bride?"
"Yes, and it was a sweet and comforting idea for him."
"Quite so. But there was a difficulty, friend John. If so that,
then what about the others? Ho, ho! Then this so sweet maid is a
polyandrist, and me,with my poor wife dead to me, but alive by
Church's law, though no wits, all gone, even I, who am faithful
husband to this now-no-wife, am bigamist."
"I don't see where the joke comes in there either!" I said, and
I did not feel particularly pleased with him for saying such
things. He laid his hand on my arm, and said,
"Friend John, forgive me if I pain. I showed not my feeling to
others when it would wound, but only to you, my old friend, whom I
can trust. If you could have looked into my heart then when I want
to laugh, if you could have done so when the laugh arrived, if you
could do so now, when King Laugh have pack up his crown, and all
that is to him, for he go far, far away from me, and for a long,
long time, maybe you would perhaps pity me the most of all."
I was touched by the tenderness of his tone, and asked why.
"Because I know!"
And now we are all scattered, and for many a long day loneliness
will sit over our roofs with brooding wings. Lucy lies in the tomb
of her kin, a lordly death house in a lonely churchyard, away from
teeming London, where the air is fresh, and the sun rises over
Hampstead Hill, and where wild flowers grow of their own
accord.
So I can finish this diary, and God only knows if I shall ever
begin another. If I do, or if I even open this again, it will be to
deal with different people and different themes, for here at the
end, where the romance of my life is told, ere I go back to take up
the thread of my life-work, I say sadly and without hope,
"FINIS".
THE WESTMINSTER GAZETTE, 25 SEPTEMBER A HAMPSTEAD MYSTERY
The neighborhood of Hampstead is just at present exercised withThe neighborhood of Hampstead is just at present exercised with
a series of events which seem to run on lines parallel to those of
what was known to the writers of headlines and "The Kensington
Horror," or "The Stabbing Woman," or "The Woman in Black." During
the past two or three days several cases have occurred of young
children straying from home or neglecting to return from their
playing on the Heath. In all these cases the children were too
young to give any properly intelligible account of themselves, but
the consensus of their excuses is that they had been with a
"bloofer lady." It has always been late in the evening when they
have been missed, and on two occasions the children have not been
found until early in the following morning. It is generally
supposed in the neighborhood that, as the first child missed gave
as his reason for being away that a "bloofer lady" had asked him to
come for a walk, the others had picked up the phrase and used it as
occasion served. This is the more natural as the favorite game of
the little ones at present is luring each other away by wiles. A
correspondent writes us that to see some of the tiny tots
pretending to be the "bloofer lady" is supremely funny. Some of our
caricaturists might, he says, take a lesson in the irony of
grotesque by comparing the reality and the picture. It is only in
accordance with general principles of human nature that the
"bloofer lady" should be the popular role at these al fresco
performances. Our correspondent naively says that even Ellen Terry
could not be so winningly attractive as some of these grubby-faced
little children pretend, and even imagine themselves, to be.
There is, however, possibly a serious side to the question, for
some of the children, indeed all who have been missed at night,
have been slightly torn or wounded in the throat. The wounds seem
such as might be made by a rat or a small dog, and although of not
much importance individually, would tend to show that whatevermuch importance individually, would tend to show that whatever
animal inflicts them has a system or method of its own. The police
of the division have been instructed to keep a sharp lookout for
straying children, especially when very young, in and around
Hampstead Heath, and for any stray dog which may be about.
THE WESTMINSTER GAZETTE, 25 SEPTEMBER EXTRA SPECIAL
THE HAMPSTEAD HORROR
ANOTHER CHILD INJURED
THE "BLOOFER LADY"
We have just received intelligence that another child, missed
last night, was only discovered late in the morning under a furze
bush at the Shooter's Hill side of Hampstead Heath, which is
perhaps, less frequented than the other parts. It has the same tiny
wound in the throat as has been noticed in other cases. It was
terribly weak, and looked quite emaciated. It too, when partially
restored, had the common story to tell of being lured away by the
"bloofer lady".23 September.—Jonathan is better after a bad night. I am so glad
that he has plenty of work to do, for that keeps his mind off the
terrible things, and oh, I am rejoiced that he is not now weighed
down with the responsibility of his new position. I knew he would
be true to himself, and now how proud I am to see my Jonathan
rising to the height of his advancement and keeping pace in all
ways with the duties that come upon him. He will be away all day
till late, for he said he could not lunch at home. My household
work is done, so I shall take his foreign journal, and lock myself
up in my room and read it.
24 September.—I hadn't the heart to write last night, that
terrible record of Jonathan's upset me so. Poor dear! How he must
have suffered, whether it be true or only imagination. I wonder if
there is any truth in it at all. Did he get his brain fever, and
then write all those terrible things, or had he some cause for it
all? I suppose I shall never know, for I dare not open the subject
to him. And yet that man we saw yesterday! He seemed quite certain
of him, poor fellow! I suppose it was the funeral upset him and
sent his mind back on some train of thought.
He believes it all himself. I remember how on our wedding day he
said "Unless some solemn duty come upon me to go back to the bitter
hours, asleep or awake, mad or sane … " There seems to be
through it all some thread of continuity. That fearful Count was
coming to London. If it should be, and he came to London, with its
teeming millions … There may be a solemn duty, and if it come
we must not shrink from it. I shall be prepared. I shall get my
typewriter this very hour and begin transcribing. Then we shall be
ready for other eyes if required. And if it be wanted, then,
perhaps, if I am ready, poor Jonathan may not be upset, for I can
speak for him and never let him be troubled or worried with it at
all. If ever Jonathan quite gets over the nervousness he may want
to tell me of it all, and I can ask him questions and find out