Mysterious Dissappearances.

.irTOTFS THE CLUES TO WHICH **gS3oa FAILED TO HEACH.

I fFrom Chambers' Journal.] I «JSjuot assure us that did we know 1 Kxact number of persons who annually ITZt from the view and knowledge fidand foes alike, and of whom no £ are ever obtained, we might well Sagbast, not only at the terribly long ft lost and missing individuals bu to at the seeming futility of the best cted efforts for seeking and finding m A glance at the 'agony' columns [tar daily newspapers or the notice, iSs of police stations will indeed show "that the mere disappearance from home J individuals is by no means a rare ience, and in many of these cases S plain reasons for the absence of the Sways may be at least guessed at or posed. But the cases we more Serially allude to are instances of the ular 'mysterious disappearance class ! which, for the most part suddenly, and ! every instance without any reasonab c sufficient cause or excuse, individuals Lpear from home, from, their business SS, and from the eire c of their laintances, and leave not the slightest Se of their whereabouts or intentions. Jen what we may call the ultimate fact IJ their death is in the vast majority of ses never asserted or proved ; and .the ends of such waifs and strays of society ye not, as a rule, the melancholy Surance or satisfaction of knowing that further hope of finding the lost is terly futile and vain. And thus the Ite of the disappearance ra time becomes nc which, as days, weeks and years roll I carries with it the ever-increasing Jmembranoe of an event at once sad and terrible in the _ doubt and uncertainty which enshroud it. While the work of the man of science in in this respect can never be said to vary i a importance, it may nevertheless, ex libit very great variations in the manner; in which it is carried out, and in the coints to which its attention is more Especially directed. A very noteworthy case, startling to excess in some of its features, was tried in London inlß3l, and rested, so far as the identity of the subject of the trial is concerned, on the presence of the front teeth in a very old woman. The woman, Caroline Walsh by name, consented, after much persuasion, to live Trith a female friend named Elizabeth Boss, and her husband, in Goodman's Pields "Walsh arrived at the place on at the night of the 19th of August, 1831, and from that date disappeared completely from public view. Inquiries immediately made by the relatives of the missing woman resulted in their ascertaining from Elizabeth Boss, that Walsh had gone home on the day of her disappearance, and bad never returned. On the evening of August 20th, or that of the day following the disappearance, aa old woman, who gave her name as Caroline Welsh, an Irish woman, like the missing woman, and corresponding in most particulars to the description given of the latter, was found in a destitute and almost dying condition in the neighbour hood of Goodman's Fields. _ She was conveyed to the London hospital, and it was ascertained that she was suffering from fracture of the hip-joint. Her injuries proved too much for her reduced condition, and she died in the hospital and was duly buried therefrom. When Boss was arrested on the charge of murdering Caroline Walsh, she at once said that the woman who had been con veyed to the London Hospital was her old friend, and although her statement appeared plausible enough at first sight, it was found to be decidedly inconsistent with facts, when submitted to due scrutiny and analysis. Then, also, direct evidence of the murder of Walsh by Boss was forthcoming from Boss's son, who testified to witnessing the suffocating of Walsh by his mother; to seeing the body of the murdered woman lying, on the morning of the 20th of August, in the cellar of the house in Goodman's Fields ; and also to Seeing his mother leave home in the evening of the 20th, carrying a sack, which apparently contained, something heavy. The accidental presence of a Caroline Walsh, thus complicated this case of mysterious disappearance in a most curious manner; and the complica tion was rendered all the more intricate, firstly, by the fact that no body corves ponding to that of the missing woman could be found in any of the London dissecting rooms; secondly, by a similar ity between the dress of the missing woman and that of the hospital patient, and thirdly, by both women having pos sessed baskets (in which they hawked small wares) exhibiting a close likeness to each other, although that of Walsh had no cover, whilst Welsh's basket had a lid. Thus to similarity innr.Jon we must add a confusing similarty in name, in dress, inoccupation, and in certain possessions. And although strict inquiries revealed differences in the habits, pnysical appear ances and bodily conformation of the women and in their respective birthplaces yet obviously the case was one in which, unless additional evidence was forth coming, either to confirm or refute the doubts as to the identity of Welsh with Walsh, tho prisoner Boss would clearly profit by the conflict of evidence and the ends of justice might ultimately be defeated.

One remarkable circumstance in the history of the murdered women at length

assumed the position of a crucial test. It was conclusively proved that Caroline Walsh had very perfect front teeth—an admittedly unusual feature in an aged woman. Caroline Welsh, on tho contrary, had no front teeth, and, moreover, as was proved by an examination of her body, the sockets of these teeth had obviously been obliterated through the modifying processes which are well known to occur, especially in the aged—for very consider able period. The scientific evidence clearly established this latter fact in the history of Caroline Welsh; and as the existence of the;'prominent front teeth in Caroline Walsh was as firmly established, the guilt of the prisoner ltoss was brought home to her, although, indeed, the fate of her victim remained a mystery more easily guessed at than solved.

INTERESTING CASE. Sometimes the researches of the scientist actually in the first instance lead tc the clearing up of a disappearance. Thus, the examination of a skeleton found deeply imbedded in the sand of tbe sea-coast at a certain French watering place, showed that the person when living must have walked with a peculiar and characteristic gait in consequence of some deposits of rheumatic kind which affected the lower part of the spine and pelvis. The mention of this fact induced a search through some old records of the town, and resulted in the discovery that a case of mysterious disappearance had been duly noted, the subject being a person whose mode of walking bad made him an object of attention, and whose fate, had it not been for the observant eye of tho anatomist, might have remained wholly unknown. One of the most famous cases in which medical science has aided the effects of the law in determining the identity of human remains was that known as the Waterloo bridge murder. This case excited much interest and curiosity at the time (1857), find (as in a crime of the most recent date) the chain of circumstances which led to the discovery that a murder bad been committed shrouded the matter still more impenetrably in mystery. A carpet-bag which had been dropped over Waterloo Bridge, London, with the obvious intention of disposing effectually and silently of its contents in the Thames, landing instead on one of the buttresses of the budge, a few yards above the current. When examined, the bag was found to contain portions of a human body, the pieces, consisting of bones with flesh attached, numbered twenty-three in all. It formed an important object of inquiry to ascertain whether the identity of the remains could be determined, with a view to connect them, firstly, with any known caso of mysterious disappearance, while their due examination might in the second instance lead to the discovery of a crime by afford ing some clue as to the probable national ity, rank in life, profession or trade, general circumstances, and mode of death of the victim.

Pieced dextrously together by medical exoerts, the portions contained in the bag were found to be those of one and the same body: but the head, a large portion of the spine, the hands and feet, and some parts of the chest were wanting—these missing parts being exactly thjse by means of which the human subject is usually and most readily identified. But notwith standing these serious gaps in the con tinuity of its structure, the mutilated frame was discerned to be that of a full grown man, whose height must have been at least five feet nine inches. To this first conclusion tbe experts were led by careful measurements of the existing parts of the skeleton, together with relative measure ments in place of those parts which were wanting. The body was further found to present no peculiarities, the result of either natural malformation or diseased action, whereby any clue to its more particular identity, as in our preceding example, could be obtained; but it presented evi dence to show that the remains were those of a man of very dark complexion, the hair covering the body being of a black color. The examination detected the presence of a stab or punctured wound in the left side of the chest, between the third and fourth ribs ; and what perhaps formed the most important result of the inquiry, consisted in the fact that the experts were able to pro nounce, from the characters of the wound that it-,had been infected in all probability during the life of the individual.. The surrounding highly suspicious circum stances of the occurrence undoubtedly favoured this latter supposition, while the clumsy and unscientific manner in which the remains were mutilated —the bones being sawn through near the joints, instead of being disarticulated at the joints by the simple division of the liga ments—showed that no theory of these remains having formed the subject of anatomical research could for a moment be entertained. The probable date of death was also in some degree fixed ; the examiners being led, from the appearance of the remains, to state with certainty that they had been dead for at least three weeks before the date of the examin ation, which was conducted on the 21st October, 1857.

Thus the medical evidence elucidated a number of facts, which, taken together, afforded useful commentary and test of the value of other and purely circum stantial evidence. The articles of dress which were inclosed in the bag along with the remains were of foreign make and were cut and torn in many places. No definite clue was ever obtained which could lead to the detection of the murderer or of the motives which prompted

the crime. The remains were thought to be those of a Swedish sailor, whose disappearance might cause little or no disturbance even among his associates; while the mere fact of his disappearance in a foreign land woulalso militate against the chances of his identity bemg estab lished. A supposition which received much credence at the time of the occur rence was that which presumed that the deceased, as a foreigner, had in all pro bability fallen a victim to the assault of some secret society, of which he may have proved to have been an unworthy or traitorous membsr.

Gisbert and Gillian.

A LOVE STORY, WITH A FAIRY GODMOTHER

AND A FAIRY PEINCE IN IT.

In an antiquated street of the queerest and quaintest of all New England towns—l mean the old seaport of Marblehead— stood the house. Tall, steep-roofed, and many-windowed, with its face to the rocky harbor, and its back, as it seemed, turned on the cottages of the fishermen, it always wore an air of antique grandeur, and gentility, quite in keeping with the character of its owner; for Captain Elkanah Endicott, master of the staunch trader Mary Jane, and a lineal descendant of that Massachusetts Governor who hung the Quakers upon Boston common, was as proud and uncompromising a tyrant as ever trod a quarter-deck. A wide hall stretched through the house, with broad, shallow stairs, and tiled fireolaco painted with Scriptural scenes. Ail the rooms were wainscoted, and crossed by massive beams. Beautiful foreign knick-knacks abounded in them, along with chairs and chests of drawers, as old as Cotton Mather's timo. The windows had deep-cushioned seats, wherein Gillian, the sole daughter of the house, was wont to sit and watch the coasters and fishing-boats, and listen to the wild, easterly storms rioting up and down the crazy, straggling streets of the town.

' She is like her father,' Aunt Constance was wont to say, ' but with a difference.'

The Captain's wife had been dead for many years. His household consisted of his daughter, his sister-in-law, who acted as housekeeper and governess, and Keturah, who had served the family for half a century, Gillian was just thirteen when Captain Elkanah wrote from Martinique the following letter, which a home-ward-bound ship brought iv due season to Marblehead house :

Dear Sister-in-Law ; I take my pen in hand to let you and the little one know that the Mary Jane and I are anchored safe in Port Royal harbor after a perilous voyage, wherein we nearly foundered in a hurricane in the Caribbean, and also lost, at Santa Cruz, two seamen by yellow-jack, which misfortunes I ascribe to the rage in which I got with Keturah, and the oath I let fly at her about packing my Bca-chest on the day I left Marblehead.

I wish you to give her a Spanish doubloon out of my strong-box, and tell her to send me favoring winds and good health, and I'll remember her still further when I come.

Last night I went ashore to dive at the house of my old friend, St. Cyr, the richest planter on island, and a member of the priyy council. He is in great trouble about his son, a likely, mettlesome lad, who has been reading too many sea yarns, and is wild, in consequence, to be a sailor. Madame St. Cyr, the daughter of the governor and the grandest lady on the island, had thought to send the boy this same year to fiance, to there com plete hi 3 educatiou and marry his cousin, and she is almost out of her wits. As young Gisberfc will listen to no reasoning, Mcn3ieur and Madame have decided to cure him of his folly by sending him on a voyage with mo, which, be sure, I shall take care to make a bitter pill for his proud, young sfcomich. Get the house ready for a guest, for I shall bring him when I come. He is sixteen years old and so well bred that he will give you no trouble. If ou may expect us about the first of October. Yours, to command,

Elk Atf_.it E.vdicott

'Martinque!' meditated Aunt Constance, as she smoothed, the letter out on her knee, ' that's one of the Caribbee islands. The people are French Creoles. Poor boy ! we must do our best to give him a hearty welcome.' ' I hope he is nice,' said Gillian, knitting her smooth brows ; ' I am sure he must be if he is fond of sea stories. Papa will make him scour the decks and climb the masts in storms and all that, I suppose.'

' Very likely. Eun, my dear, and get the doubloon.' Gillian ran to the cabinet where the captain's strong box was kept, and brought the gold piece twinkling in her hand.

' News, Keturah, news from papa !' she cried, flying off to the kitchen. Capt. Elkanah might boast descent from a Massachusetts governor —Keturah, his servant, was the daughter of the Massa chusetts kings. Their blood still showed in her high cheek-bones, and black, deep set eyes, and in the brown skin which hung upon her neck like tanned leather. She was an old woman —100 years old at the least, it seemed to Gillian. She always wore a cotton gown of bright pattern, a scarlet handkerchief pinned upon her bosom, and a necklace of colored beads. Aunt Constance called her a witch. Captain Elkanah —superstitious like all sailors—held her in wholesome awe. Gillian, whose nurse she had been, loved her.

'Keturah,' said she, waltzing across the hearth, 'did you send the hurricane and the fever to papa's ship because he swore at you the day he went away ?' 'The hurricane and fever! they are

God's messengers. Would they come or go at my bidding, do you think ?' ' No,' answered Gillian, meditatively ; ' but papa said so, and here's a doubloon for you.'

' Tut, tut!' snapped Keturah; ' let him keep his money;' nevertheless she put it in her pocket.

' So, he's sailing home across seas, eh ! and bringing with him a stranger—one from far away ?'

Gillian stared at her in amazement,

' Oh, Keturah,' she cried, ' how do you know ? We have just read the letter.' ' The fire, told me,' said Keturah, laugh ing wierdly; you may expect them with the next moon, ladybird.' Sure enough one October night, when the harvest crescent was shining on the harbour waves, Captain Elkanah came home. With a great bluster, like a northeaster blowing, he broke in upon Aunt Constance and his daughter, swing ing in one hand a cage holding: a white parrot, and followed by a pale, disheveled lad, with fair hair, and the look and mien of the Prince Perfect of Gillian's fairy tales.

' How d'ye do, sister-in law ?' cried Captain Elkanah ; and he gave his rough paw to Aunt Constance, and then bent to smack Gillian's dog-rose cheek. ' Hallo, little one ! You're aa pretty as a pink ! Here is Monsieur Gisbert. He's been sick over since wo left Martinique;' adding in a lower voice, 'and, if I haven't cured him of his hankering for blue water, I'll eat the island and all its mountains.'

Aunt Constance, sweet, motherly soul, hastaned to take the young Creole's hand and lead him to the fire.

' Dear me !' she began, compassionately. ' How ill you look! You have had a rough voyage. Welcome to '

But here she paused, for, with a faint attempt to raise her hand to his lips, young monsieur reeled toward the chair and fell in a dead faint. The voyage had been too much for the son of the island planter. He lay without breath or motion, his face like the dead.

Gillian, in great fright, mixed with pity, screamed out:

' Oh, papa—you dreadful papa! you've killed him,' and began to wring hor hands. Aunt Constance alone preserved her senses.

' It is a swoon,' said she, 'ho is quite ex hausted. Eun for smelling-salts, and burnt feathers, and Keturah.' In came Keturah and slapped his.hands and burnt feathers under his nose until his eyelids lifted, and he looked around. His wondering, homesick gaze turned from object to object until it rested on Gillian—Gillian, leaning over him in a cloud of shiny hair, tears on her lashes, and a smile parting her red young lips. ' See !' she cried, 'he is better.' The young creole lifted himself to look at her,

' Oh!' ho breathed in slow delight, ' who are you ?' 'I am Gillian,' she answered —' Gillian Endicott.'

* Shall I see you as long as I stay here ?' Every day.'

' Ciel! what happiness !' he murmured, aud ho fell back fainting again. This was how he came to the old north ern seaport; Aunt Constance petted him with motherly tenderness; even Capt. Elkanah was kind; and as for Gillan, from the first hour of his arrival the two adored each other.

One day they quarreled. Gispert took his flute and went off to a lonely corner, and began to play a wild, wailing impro visation, which pierced to the window where Gillian sat sulking. She would not turn or look. He played on-awhilo, the sweet notes growing sadder and sad der, but still she did not heed. Then he flung the instrument from him, and cross ed to her sido.

'If you do not forgive me at once,' he hissed through his teeth, ' I will throw myself from the rocks.'

"'Youdare not!' she answered scornfully.

His violet eyes grew black with rage. 'Do you mean that ? eh wen—you shall see!' said he.

And, tnrning on his heel, he was tear ing off in very truth, when she, following after, flung herself upon him. 'Stop !' she sobbed —'oh, stop, Gisbert, I only am to blame. Forgive me.' He snatched her in his arms, and kiss ed away her tears. ' Ah, have made you weep ?' he cried, remorsefully. ' Why do you treat me so ? when you are kind to me, I am in heaven ; when you flout me, I am ready to die.' On another occasion, when Aunt Con stance was taking t her peaceful after dinner nap, this pair of young creatures slipped out of the house and flitted till they reached a wharf, where Gisbert, who had a plentiful supply of pocket money, hired a boat. The two scrambled into it and, having set a sail, went dancing ofl' through the sunshine. ' You love the sea,' cried Gillian, ' and and so do I—ah, so much ! Let us go on a voyage together.' 'To do that,' said Gisbert, ' we must have a compass and a bag of sea biscuit.' ' We can stop for them at the nearest

port.' He looked doubtfully across the gay waters. ' If you wish it, that is enough ; I will go with you to the end of the world.' Then a flaw of wind struck the boat and capsized it, and the next instant the two were struggling in the water. The French lad rose to ihe surface like a duck and struck out for a crop of hazel hair

floating on a great wave near by. He seized it while it was sinking, and held it fast. The tide was setting strong against him; the shore looked far, far, away. Nevertheless, he started for it gallantly. 'Let me go!' cried Gillian ; 'you will drown if you do not!'

' Then I will drown,' he answered hold ing her closer still,

He was a suberb swimmer, but the odds were fearfully against him.

' Save yourself,' still entreated Gillian. ' Never without you !' he replied indig nantly.

' Some fishermen in a distant boat had witnessed the calamity. They tacked now, and came hastening to the rescue. More dead than alive, the two were drawn out of the water and carried back to tho house.

They sat battling, one night, over a set of suberp chessmen which Gisbort had brought from Martinique, when Aunt Constance bfigan to talk to her guest about his island home.

'You will go back to your dear mother,' said she,' and never again think of the sea.'

'Ah, madame, how coud I think of you and Gillian, and not of the sea which will be between us ?'

' Well, _ you will never again cross mama's wishes ?'

He hesitated, tho blood leaped into his face.

' I cannot promise that, for she has sot her heart upon marrying me to my cousin. Gillian looked up quickly. ' And do you wish it?' asked she. ' No,' said Prince Perfect. ' Do you not love hor ?' urged Gillian. He cast down his eyes, and looked red and rebellious.

' She lives in Paris. She is a great heiress ; but she has also a crooked back. 'No I do not love her; it was to escape her that I wished to go to sea.'

A heavy step sounded in the hall, and Capt. Elkanah, grizzeled and bluff, un buttoned his overcoat and walked in.

With a certain exhilaration in his manner, he advanced to the fire, rubbing his hands.

' I've done it, sister-in-law,' he announ ced, briefly.

Done—what?' queried Aunt Constance. ' MadG an investment, ma'am—salted down ten thousand dollars for our old age. I was dining, to-day, with Fordham! There was a State-street broker in the company. Ho talked bonds to me, and I listened,'

Then he caughtsight of Keturah, who was just bringing in the lights. ' Hey !' cried he ; 'have I done a good thing, to-day, Keturah, or have I not ?'

She looked him over carefully with her cunning black oyes, then seized the poker, and plunging it into the fire, sent a show er of sparks dancing up the chimney. 'There's your money!'she answered, ' gone !'

'What do you mean?' cried Capt. Elkanah, slapping his breast angrily. ' The bonds are a good investment—l've the word of honest men for it.'

'Honest men,' scoffed Keturah, 'are hard to find in these days. You'll'never see your money again,' and she turned and vanished from the room.

The croole boy was as full of extra vagant ways and fiery temper as an egg is of meat. Aunt Constance used to won der if all French people were like him. He would sit for hours sketching portraits of Gillian, and then tear up his work in fury, because, as the child saucily said, he could not make her pretty enough. His fondness for her, his admiration of her beauty, knew no bounds. Often he astonished the grizzly captain, and deeply perplexed Aunt Constance.

' They are a perfect pair,' Keturah was wont to mutter, as she watched tho two children—'a perfect pair—made by the good Lord for each other.'

One night Gillian went to bed with her head full of Aunt Constance's ghost stories. In the dead of the night Gisbert dreamed* that he saw an angel hovering with out spread wings upon a pinnacle. He awoke with a great start, and ran to his window. As he looked forth into the night, lo! in the open space before the window he saw a human shadow, flung from somo point high above, moving back and forth in the moonlight.

It was very cold. The boy dressed hastily, and stepped out into the passage. Gillian's door stood wide open, and the" room within was empty. Fami'iar by this time with all the winding ways of the liDUse he stopped only to cry out at Aunt Constance door, ' Arise, madame .' Some thing has happened!' and then hurried to the attic. As he mounted its stair a rush of cold wind greeted him. The scuttle was standing open, and a ladder rested against it. The French lad climebd the rounds and looked out.

The steep roof, with its covering of mingled snow and ice, shone in the moon light like pearl. Far to one end, poised upon the dizzy edge, as if for heavenward flight, like the angel of which he had dreamed, stood Gillian. She was in her night-clothes, and her white feet were bare. Her hazel curls streamed around her shoulders. Her face was peaceful and pale; the eyes were closed ,- a faint smile hovered on the calm, red lips. The child was walking in her sleep—upon that steep and icy roof, where an inadvertent move ment might plunge her down, where the next step was death !

For a moment Gisbert stood petrified, then he dropped his shoes, and, nimble as' I a cat, sprang upon the roof. It was as as glass. Inch by inch he climbecj

Evening Star ®wpplement 9 JTtme V7 9 IS^G