pense was at an end, and the greatest wonder of the world was before their eyes. It was all true; nay, half the truth had not been said about it. That Dutch Automaton, as Asa observed, sotto voce, to Nellie, did beat all nature. It seemed absolutely endowed with human intelligence; indeed, the opinion was generally held that no merely human intelligence could compete with it. Why, it ogled the women! it cracked jokes with the men! it danced a hornpipe! it whistled Yankee Doodle'! The audience became excited-wild -frantic! Their frenzy rose to madness, yet seemed utterly inadequate to the magnitude of the occasion. The Dutch Automaton was not an automaton at all-it was a demigod ! Huzza! Hi! Hurrah! And how did the demigod impress Nellie Swansdowne? When first the door of the box opened, and that marvellous piece of mechanism stepped forth and walked down to the footlights, she gave a little shriek, and half started from her seat. Recovering herself, with a nervous laugh, she looked around to see whether anyone had observed her. Fortunately, everyone was intent upon the stage. She turned her eyes again towards the Automaton, and as she looked her gaze became more absorbed, until she seemed to live. only in the eyes. The expression of wonder on her lovely face deepened into amazement, which merged into incredulity, which gave way to mystification, which intensified into fear. Her sweet lips parted, her breath came in fits and starts. During all the time the Automaton was in sight she uttered not a single word. Unquestionably, no person in the audience was more affected by that evening's entertainment than was Nellie Swansdowne. At length the end came. The Automaton, in a few well-chosen words, took leave of the audience, at the same time expressing the hope of meeting them soon again-if not all, at least some of them. It was said afterwards that a peculiar twinkle was observable in its left eye as it made this addition. The machine then retired up the stage, keeping its face towards the spectators, and bowing to the right and the left. On reaching the door of its box, it paused, took a nosegay from its button-hole, and tossed it over the footlights. A hundred hands were outstretched to grasp it, but it fell right into Nellie Swansdowne's lap. She caught it up, and several pairs of jealous feminine eyes in the vicinity saw-or fancied they saw her detach from it a fold of white paper, which she slipped into her bosom. The Automaton nodded and smiled at her, then vanished into its box, the curtain was drawn into place again, and the exhibition was over. The audience, exhausted by its emotions, remained seated for several moments, trying to realise the fact that this wonder had actually been present before their eyes. But when the attendants began to turn out the lights, the people rose, whispering and murmuring among themselves, and began crowding out of the hall. And now a kind of awe fell upon them—a reluctance to look over their shoulders-an unreasoning impulse to get out to the open air as quickly as possible. They looked askance at one another, as though under an apprehension lest that supernatural piece of Dutch clockwork might suddenly appear at their elbows. The multitude outside, who had pressed to the entrance, curious to see the faces of those who had been under the same roof with the Automaton, shrank back alarmed at sight of their pale and panic-stricken appearance. One and all hurried homewards as fast as their legs could carry them, and in an incredibly short space of time not a soul was left in the streets. V. AMONG the last to leave the hall were Asa Cooper and Nellie Swansdowne. A melancholy interest attaches to this final appearance of theirs together in the world. They were seen to walk away in the direction of Nellie's home; but when they had passed beyond the light of the gas-lamps which burned dimly over the iron gate of the wall, darkness swallowed them up, and there were none to tell what happened to them afterwards. It was a warm, cloudy night, and heavy drops of rain fell intermittently: the air was close and oppressive, and distant echoes of thunder moaned in the air. Nellie Swansdowne, the pretty, the sweet, the lovable, was never seen at Mullenville again. Asa Cooper, however, was picked up the next day on the high road to Boston, several miles away. He was in a condition of utter physical exhaustion; his clothes were covered with dirt, and his right eye was terribly swollen and discoloured. But worse than all, his mind was found to have fallen into a state of hopeless imbecility. When questioned as to what had occurred to him after leaving the hall, he could only maunder about a phantom carriage, drawn by black horses, which had come thundering along the road after Nellie and himself, while they were still a quarter of a mile or more from the former's home. Out of this carriage, he affirmed, had sprung a goblin which, from its figure, height, and bearing, he had no difficulty in identifying with the famous Dutch Automaton, although the flaxen hair and whiskers had been cut off. The goblin had taken advantage of his temporary consternation to prostrate him by a left-hander on the eye; it had then seized Nellie (who, either from terror or from some other cause, had been unable to utter so much as a single scream) round the waist, and had leaped with her into the phantom coach, which had immediately disappeared into the night with a rumble like an earthquake. Asa, on recovering his feet, had set off in pursuit; but after running a long distance he had dropped from fatigue, and had lain where he fell until the next day. Such was his story, as nearly as it could be pieced together from his incoherent mutterings and ravings. The good people of Mullenville, with that clear common sense which has always characterised them, paid no further heed to the unfortunate imbecile's disclosures than to make them a warrant for his immediate committal to the town asylum for persons of unsound mind. Thither was he accordingly conveyed; but his infirmity turning out to be harmless, he was ultimately allowed to return to the bosom of his family. There he may still be found; and, to do him justice, he seems no more idiotic than he always was, save on the one subject of the night of September 22, 1873. Not the least peculiar feature of this mysterious affair is the fact that, from that day to this, no one either heard of or saw the famous Dutch Automaton. The only trace left of it was the large box, which remained standing on the stage behind the black curtain. A committee, of which Mr. Cooper was chairman, was organised to sit upon this box; which, not without many misgivings, they did and arrived at the conclusion that it ought to be opened. David Clank, as being the man in Mullenville who seemed to stand least in awe of it, was appointed to this momentous duty; the committee standing by, armed with a double-barrelled shot-gun and a hymn-book. The box was found to contain nothing more terrible than a couple of wigs, with beards to match; one being jet-black, the other of a light flaxen tint. These relics were locked up in the Court House; and then the committee, having voted that their proceedings should be printed and that their chairman should be thanked, adjourned sine die. In process of time, as people's imaginations cooled, the fame of the Automaton would seem to have fallen somewhat into disrepute. It was declared that the thing was not so very wonderful after all; that it had not, as a matter of fact, done half the feats it had been credited with; that its motions had been limited in scope and stiff and mechanical in character; that a whizzing sound, as of a clock running down, had attended every moment; that its voice had been nothing better than a croak and a squeak; that it had never sung or whistled at all; and that, as to reading or writinghumbug! Such are the deliberate conclusions of the more intellectual VOL. XXXV. NO. CXXXIX, X part of the community. But some foolish and pig-headed persons there are who persist in believing that there was more (or less) about that Automaton than the public ever suspected. They ask why David Clank wore so knowing an air at and after the date of the exhibition? They inquire who gave him that new violin? and what he meant by his facetious remarks about the Automaton's connection with Holland? They furthermore express curiosity as to who paid Mr. Swansdowne's debts? and would like to be informed why the latter took the disappearance of his beloved and only daughter so composedly? They even insinuate that the fold of paper which Nellie was seen to detach from the bouquet, contained writing, the purport whereof was to remind her of a certain rash wish she had once uttered, and to prepare her for that wish's strange fulfilment. Moreover . . . but no! let this suffice. Why concern ourselves with the pointless ineptitudes of visionaries? I regret my inability to make this tale complete by reference to the fate of one who figured prominently in the earlier part of it -Ned Holland. Did he live to repent of that foolish fit of temper which separated him from a girl he truly loved and who loved him? Did he, when it was too late, seek forgiveness and reconciliation, and did he register a vow to live unmarried for her sake? These are questions which I can afford the reader no help in answering. But Ned was a fellow of such resolution, such loyalty, and such good sense, that it seems improbable he would tamely submit to the loss of all he most prized, still less that he would seek consolation in forgetfulness. Nevertheless, men are men, and I should not wonder if Ned Holland were a married man. But even were he to turn up the happy possessor of a loving wife and three lovely children, I should refuse to believe that his heart had ever wavered in its constancy to her who was once Nellie Swansdowne. A Pastoral in Dresden Chine. Down the greenwood hollows, Blushing white and rose, Where the blossoms stray, Both his laughing eyes; Flushing warm and red, Wilt not wake for this? Shamefaced for love's sake, Loved and kissed in vain. EDMUND W. COSSE. |