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LADY ROSAMOND'S SECRET:

A Romance of Fredericton.

RE. AGATHA ARMOUR.

St. John, N. B. Telegraph Printing and Publishing Office. 1878.

INTRODUCTION.

The object of the following story has been to weave simple facts into form dependent upon the usages of society during the administration of Sir Howard Douglas, 1824-30. The style is simple and claims no pretensions for complication of plot. Every means has been employed to obtain the most reliable authority upon the facts thus embodied. The writer is deeply indebted to several gentlemen of high social position who kindly furnished many important facts and showed a lively interest in the work, and takes the present opportunity of returning thanks for such support. In producing this little work the public are aware that too much cannot be expected from an amateur. Hoping that this may meet the approval of many, the writer also thanks those who have so generously responded to the subscription list.

Fredericton. August, 1878.

LADY ROSAMOND'S SECRET

A ROMANCE OF FREDERICTON.

OLD GOVERNMENT HOUSE.

A September sunset in Fredericton, A. D. 1824. Much has been said and sung about the beauteous scenes of nature in every clime. Scott has lovingly depicted his native heaths, mountains, lochs and glens. Moore draws deep inspiration amid scenes of the Emerald Isle, and strikes his lyre to chords of awakening love, light and song. Cowper, Southey and Wordsworth raised their voices in tuneful and harmonious lays, echoing love of native home. Our beloved American poet has wreathed in song the love of nature's wooing in his immortal Hiawatha. Forests in their primeval grandeur, lovely landscapes, sunrise, noonday and sunset--each has attracted the keen poetic gaze. Though not the theme of poet or pen--who that looks upon our autumn sunset can deny its charms? The western horizon, a mass of living gold, flitting in incessant array and mingling with the different layers of purple, violet, pink, crimson, and tempting hues of indescribable beauty; at intervals forming regular and successive strata of deep blue and red, deepening into bright red. Suddenly as with magic wand a golden cloud shoots through and transforms the whole with dazzling splendour. The bewildering reflection upon the trees as they raise their heads in lofty appreciation, forms a pleasing background, while Heaven's ethereal blue lies calmly floating above. The gently sloping hills lend variety to the scene, stretching in undulations of soft and rich verdure; luxuriant meadow and cultivated fields lie in alternate range. The sons of toil are returning from labour; the birds have sought shelter in their nests; the nimble squirrel hides beneath the leafy boughs, or finds refuge in the sheltering grass, until the next day's wants shall urge a repeated attack upon the goodly spoils of harvest. Soon the golden sheen is departing, casting backward glances upon the hill tops with studied coyness, as lingering to caress the deepening charms of nature's unlimited and priceless wardrobe.

Amid such glowing beauty could the mind hold revel on a glorious September sunset in Fredericton, 1824. To any one possessed with the least perception of the beautiful, is there not full scope in this direction? Is not one fully rewarded by a daily stroll in the suburban districts of Fredericton, more especially the one now faintly described? If any one asks why the present site was chosen for Government House in preference to the lower part of the city, there would be no presumption in the inference--selected no doubt with due appreciation of its view both from river and hills on western side. Truly its striking beauty might give rise to the well established title of "Celestial City." Though unadorned by lofty monuments of imposing stateliness, costly public buildings, or princely residences, Fredericton lays claim to a higher and more primitive order of architecture than that of Hellenic ages. The Universal Architect lingered lovingly in studying the effect of successive design. Trees of grace and beauty arose on every side in exquisite drapery, while softly curved outlines added harmony to the whole, teaching the wondrous and creative skill of the Divine. The picturesque river flows gently on, calm, placid, and unruffled save by an occasional splash of oars of the pleasure seekers, whose small white boats dotted the silvery surface and were reflected in the calm depths below.

On such an evening more than half a century ago when the present site of Government House was occupied by the plain wooden structure known as "Old Government House," a group of ladies was seated on the balcony apparently occupied in watching the lingering rays descending behind the hills. Suddenly the foremost one, a lovely and animated girl whose beauty baffled description, espied a gentleman busily engaged in admiring some choice specimens of flowers which were being carefully cultivated by a skilful gardener. Bounding away with the elasticity of a fawn, her graceful form was seen to advantage as she stood beside the high-bred and distinguished botanist. The simple acts of pleasantry that passed shewed their relationship as that of parent and child. Sir Howard Douglas was proud of his beautiful and favorite daughter. He saw in her the wondrous beauty of her mother blending with those graces and rare qualities of the heart which won for Lady Douglas the deep admiration of all classes. Beauty and amiability were not the entire gifts of Mary Douglas. She was endowed with attainments of no ordinary stamp. Though young, she displayed uncommon ability in many different branches of education; shewing some skill as a composer and musician, also a talent for composition and poetry. With simple earnestness she placed her hand lovingly upon her father's shoulder, exclaiming "Papa, dear, I have come to watch you arrange those lovely flowers." "Well, my dear, you are welcome to remain. I am certainly complimented by such preference. You must allow me to acknowledge it by this," saying which, the fond parent plucked a white rosebud and fastened it in the snowy lace upon the bosom of his child. "Papa, dearest, one act of love certainly deserves another," exclaimed Mary, as she fondly pressed the lips of Sir Howard, adding "remember that you are my chevalier for the remainder of the evening. When you have finished, we will rejoin the company." Mary Douglas seated herself in a rustic chair and chatted in gay and animated tones while her father listened with a deep interest. The well tried soldier, the gallant commander at Badajos, at Corunna, the hero of many fierce conflicts, and the firm friend and favourite of the Duke of Wellington, listened to the conversation of his daughter with as much keenness as a question involving the strongest points of diplomacy.

"In the first instance," said she, "we were admiring the beautiful sunset, the soft outline of the hills, and the beauty of the landscape. Is that not worthy of describing, papa?" The eldest daughter of this distinguished family made this appeal with a face beaming with the enthusiasm of her deep appreciative nature. Anne Douglas possessed not the great beauty of her sister Mary, yet was a lovely and loveable woman, capable of inspiring deep regard. Sir Howard acknowledged by saying, that if she continued, the comparison would turn the weight on the other side. "Not yet, papa dear," said Miss Douglas, "you must hear further. We were speaking freely of our warm reception from the citizens, of the social resources of Fredericton, its commercial interests; and before you joined us, were planning to ask your assistance, by giving your views and opinion of Fredericton in its general aspect, as presented on your arrival." "Mr. Trevelyan," ventured Sir Howard, "I am sorry to acknowledge that the ladies have sufficient cause to charge you with desertion of your colours; but the end may not justify the means." "Ah, papa, your inference is indirect--you will not surely justify Mr. Trevelyan." "In the present state of affairs," exclaimed Sir Howard, in playful military tone, "the enemy is preparing for action. The only chance of success is thus--retreat under cover of fire, or fall back on the strength of defence." "Your Excellency has a stronghold in the enemy's quarter," joined in Lady Rosamond, who had been seated at the side of Captain Charles Douglas, their eldest son. "Before testing the strength of our forces let there be a short truce, on condition that His Excellency will give us the desired information this evening," said Mr. Trevelyan, playfully endeavouring to conciliate Miss Douglas. At this moment Lady Douglas formed an attractive feature to the group. Her graceful form, dignity of gesture and gentle expression was a subject of admiration. Her winning smile was greeted by recognitions of deep and respectful courtesy on the part of the gentlemen.

"My Lady, fortune has at last condescended to favour me by your appearance among us," said Mr. Trevelyan, rising and advancing towards Her Ladyship, while a blush suffused his handsome face, hastily making its way with deepening colour, showing the clear and open hearted spirit of the young Lieutenant. "We now have hopes of a speedy restoration." Mr. Trevelyan then related the foregoing sallies to the fair arbitress, who listened with keen relish and enjoyment. "As I have arrived at this unfavourable moment," said Her Ladyship, "I will try to end the matter satisfactorily to all parties. His Excellency being one of the chief actors, shall forfeit his liberty by devoting an hour in satisfying the present demands of the company. Mr. Trevelyan also, will only extricate himself from his present position by giving one of his many excellent renditions from Shakespeare or any of the favorite authors. Do you not all agree to this decision?" As Lady Douglas glanced towards her daughter Mary, she read in those beautiful eyes a mischievous flash directed towards Miss Douglas. "If I judge aright there is yet another to be brought to hasty retribution," said the former. "Pardon me, but I think your Ladyship is rather severe," said the youthful lieutenant with a boyish flush of youth upon his brow. "I beg that the penalty imposed uman never squeals when trimmed, but look out for the big grafters."

Fay's precautions when visiting the studio consisted in wearing a baggy, tweed suit, yellow gloves and sun-glasses. He found a child who could play the part of "Cecil" for the first visit.

Saidee Isaacs had accomplished the impossible. A new sign was hung in the place of the old one. New curtains were at the front windows. Grass matting covered the floor of the reception-room. The camera she had set up between the studio and the dark-room was a fair imitation of a good one. It was covered with a black cloth.

"This is all right," Fay said to her. "But there's one thing to be changed. That skylight has got to be moved south about seven feet." He consulted the rice-paper tracing while the boy sat in the reception-room.

"Why has it got to be moved?"

Fay pointed to the floor of the photographing-room. "The vault is in the wrong place. We can't move it. We have got to move the skylight."

"Has the skylight anything to do with cutting through the top of the safe?"

"Everything, Saidee."

"Then it'll be moved where you say, if a carpenter can do it."

The other tenants of the Bradock Building, so called from a stone over the doorway to "The Black Cougar's" brokerage offices, had ample opportunity to observe Miss Saidee Sorjoni, Photographer of Children. She wore shiny celluloid cuffs and a neat white ruching about her neck. Her fingers were stained with developer. Beneath this yellow stain was a coating of collodium--a sovereign cure for fingerprints.

Fay took his time in cutting through the floor over the exact center of "The Black Cougar's" customers' room--a place of wire-wickets, tickers, soft chairs and a long board upon which two boys changed the day's quotations with lightning-like celerity.

The hole he made through the floor of the studio's front office was cone-shaped and ended in a quarter-inch opening. A view could be obtained by means of this peekhole of "The Black Cougar's" private den--adjoining the vault.

Fay neatly fitted this opening with a trapdoor covered by a small table. Upon this he placed current magazines and samples of photographic art--left by the late owner of the studio.

"Come here, Saidee," he said to her one day. "Get down and watch Pope. What is he doing at his desk? What is that he has carried from the vault?"

She dropped to her knees and looked through the opening. She bent lower. Suddenly she rose and arranged her skirt.

"That is queer," she said. "He took a large spool of wire out of the vault, set it on a spindle, passed one end of the wire through a little box he has on his desk and then started winding the wire on another spool. He's doing it now."

Fay lay flat on the grass matting. He saw, through the circular opening, the board-room, the grill and ground-glass partitions and the thick purple neck and bald head of "The Black Cougar." The bucket-shop operator was doing nothing more interesting than winding wire from one spool to another. He stopped now and then to examine a tape which came out of the box on his desk. He reached suddenly. He tore off this tape, pulled down the cover of his desk, sprang from his swivel-chair and went to a window which opened into the compartment occupied by a score of stenographers.

"Petroleum, preferred," he snarled as a timid girl took the tape. "Send them Red Letter No 10. Follow up, one day week. Quote 6574 asked. Get me?"

The girl whispered her answer. She disappeared beyond Fay's range of vision. He waited and watched "The Black Cougar" unwind the wire, tuck the spool under his thick arm and hurry into the vault. An inner door slammed. The bucket-shop operator came out, closed the outer door, twirled the combinations and started pacing the thick Turkish rug.

"That's a new one," said Fay to Saidee Isaacs. "We'll have to open that vault to find out what that spool of wire is for!"

"Could it have been an electrical connection to the little box on his desk?"

"No! It was not insulated wire. It looked to me like fine steel or iron wire--perhaps finer than the wire used in the smallest size hairpin."

"The spool was big enough."

"There was all of a thousand feet of wire on it, Saidee."

"It's some trick."

Fay nodded. He got down on his knees and watched "The Black Cougar." He rose and covered up the hole in the floor. Before going out he said to the girl:

"I'm going to have some things sent up. Tonight I start work over the safe. We shall enter the vault by Sunday, when no one is in Pope's office."

"How are you going to cut that vanadium steel? Father told me once it was the hardest kind of metal."

Fay glanced at the skylight which had been changed to a new position. "I told you," he smiled, "that I had an idea. It's so far out of my line that the police wont suspect me. I've been accused of using thermite, the oxy-acetylene blow-pipe, the electric-arc, with a water-rheostat, and other devices. This time I'll go everybody one better. The material will be up by special messenger."

Fay left the studio. His thoughts were not on the method he intended using to open "The Black Cougar's" strong box. They drifted between two mysteries--the matter-of-factness of Saidee Isaacs, who was certainly unemotional, and the spool of wire which Pope had locked in the vault.

The shop Fay visited that afternoon, and where he waited while a glazier finished the last of his order, was far enough from the center of the city to admit of no danger from the police.

"You see," Fay told the proprietor, "I am making some experiments at an ostrich farm near Pasadena. Be careful when you pack the mirrors. I'll have to carry them on a trolley-car."

He took a huge, well-wrapped package after paying the man the price demanded, and rounded the block. He found a messenger standing in front of a telegraph-office.

"For Miss Saidee Sorjoni, photographer," he told the boy. "She's located in the Bradock Building. Here's a four-bit piece. Don't break anything."

Fay watched the boy until he had disappeared. He went through narrow streets to a second glazier's. This man had constructed two halves of a hollow lens. This lens was about three feet in diameter. It was far from being accurate.

"A burning-glass," said Fay, "does not necessarily need to be solid. I intend to paste the edges together with plaster of Paris and fill the whole thing with clear water."

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