The man smiled oddly, and went to work. He found nothing wrong, and soon left. Drake pondered over this odd occurrence for a long time, but said nothing to his wife concerning it. He spent the short time before darkness came in setting out some flowers.
They sat up quite late that night, playing cards. Hannah sat in the same room, quietly sewing. Now and then she glanced toward a window looking out upon the front porch. She saw nothing, and yet some unseen force seemed to draw her gaze in that direction repeatedly. Suddenly she shrieked and pointed to the window. The Drakes were just in time to see a distorted face pull away from one of the window panes. Hannah sat helplessly staring, deep fear written plainly on every feature of her face. Drake dashed toward the hall door, and, just as he reached it, a shot sounded outside. Flinging open the door recklessly, he peered out into the dark. Someone was feebly calling for help. Going in the direction of the low voice, he found a man stretched full-length on the gravel path at the side of the house.
With the help of the two women, who by this time were somewhat calmed, he carried the man into the library and laid him on a couch. He immediately recognized him as the man he had seen in the cellar. The man was shot through the lung, and Drake could see that he would be dead in a few minutes. The man feebly motioned him to come near, and indicated he had something he wanted to say.
Drake bent over the dying man, who gasped out: "Sorry . . . scared . . . you folks; . . . crazy, I . . . guess. Had . . . grudge . . . against . . . owner. He was head . . . draft . . . board. Sent me . . . France . . . afraid . . . to . . . go. No father . . . mother . . . Hell . . . hell, . . . death . . . all . . . around me. Shell shock . . . hospital . . . home . . . Came . . . here. Hate . . . owner. Played ghost . . . so . . . no one . . . rent . . . Damn house . . . stole . . . your food."
Here he rested a few seconds, and then went on in a much weaker voice, as Hannah opened his shirt, and applied a cloth to the wound to stop some of the flow of blood.
"No use . . . want. . . to die. Slept in rooms . . . over . . . stable . . . no one looked . . . there . . . here what . . . you . . . said . . . through . . . furnace . . . pipes. Knew . . . what . . . you . . . doing . . . all . . . time. Easy to fool you . . . I . . . crazy, maybe . . . Sorry . . . Sorry . . . late . . . night . . . dark, . . . dark. I . . . I . . . I . . ."
He was dead, and the mystery, so far as they were concerned, had been solved.
Singular Discovery of a Murder in 1740
A WOMAN living at St. Neots, returning from Elsworth, where she had been to receive a legacy of seventeen pounds that was left her, for fear of being robbed, tied it up in her hair. As she was going home, she overtook her next door neighbor, a butcher by trade, but who kept an inn, and who lived in good repute. The woman was glad to see him and told him what she had been about. He asked her where she had concealed the money. She told him in her hair. The butcher finding a convenient opportunity, took her off her horse and cut her head off, put it into his pack and rode off. A gentleman and his servant coming directly by, and seeing the body moving on the ground, ordered his servant to ride full speed forward and the first man he overtook to follow him wherever he went. The servant overtook the butcher not a mile off the place and asked him what town that was before them. He told him St. Neots. Says he, "My master is just behind and sent me forward to inquire for a good inn for a gentleman and his servant." The murderer made answer that he kept a good inn where they should be well used. The gentleman overtook them and went in with them and dismounted, bidding his servant take care of the horse whilst he would take a walk in the town and be back presently. He went to a constable and told him the whole affair, who said that the butcher was a very honest man and had lived there a great many years in good reputation; but going back with the gentleman and searching the pack, the constable, to his great surprise, found it was the head of his own wife! The murderer was sent to Huntingdon gaol, and shortly after executed.
Giants
ARACÆAS, of the family of the Achæmenidæ, a person in great favour with Xerxes, was the tallest man of the rest of the Persians; for he lacked but the breadth of four fingers of full five cubits by the royal standard, which in our measure must be near seven feet.
Walter Parsons, born in Staffordshire, was first apprentice to a smith, when he grew so tall, that a hole was made for him in the ground, to stand therein up to the knees, so as to make him adequate with his fellow workmen: he afterwards was porter to King James; because gates being generally higher than the rest of the building, it was proper that the porter should be taller than other persons. He was proportionable in all parts, and had strength equal to his height, valour equal to his strength, and good temper equal to his valour; so that he disdained to do an injury to any single person. He would take two of the tallest yeomen of the guard in his arms at once, and order them as he pleased. He was seven feet four inches in height.
William Evans was born in Monmouthshire, and may justly be counted the giant of his age; for his stature being full two yards and a half in height, he was porter to King Charles the First, succeeding Walter Parsons in his place, and exceeding him two inches in stature; but he was far beneath him in equal proportion of bone; for he was not only knock-kneed and splay footed, but also halted a little; yet he made a shift to dance in an anti-mask at court, where he drew little Jeffery, the king's dwarf, out of his pocket, to the no small wonder and laughter of the beholders.
