The west shore., July 01, 1885, Page 213, Image 19

THE- WEST SHORE.
213
A MYSTERIOUS DWELLING.
'PHIRTY yearn have rolled away sinoe I established
1 myself as a notary in the old maritime nnd commcr-
eial city of .where my maternal grandfather. and
great-grandfather infiuential merchants-had dwelt for
the previous fifty years. The house I had selected for a
residence was situated between two others, totally unlike
eaoh other. On one side stood a pioturesque, oheery
habitation, resounding with children's merry voices; on
the other, a massive and gloomy dwelling, wIiobb narrow,
hermetically sealed windows displayed a goodly array of
spiders' webs. The paint on its walls and on its entranoe
door had long since disappeared. The bronao handle
and the lion's head knocker wore covered with verdigris.
Although situated in the centre of a bustling thorough
fare, this house remained silont as death. All through
the day the stillness was unbroken, no Bigns of life wore
visible within; but at night, when all else was at rost,
rumor said that something moved about ite rooms.
At the back of the house a long building jutted out
into the garden. The upper portion of this wing the
only part I could see, in oonaequenoe of an unusually
. high wall whioh divided the two properties was pierced
by a row of large windows. I mado up my mind that
this had once baton a ballroom, for when the sun shone
full upon the dusky windows, silken draperies, faded and
threadbare, were distinctly visible.
It was commonly supposed that this mysterious dwell
ing was inhabited by a very old woman named Janaen,
the widow of a wealthy merchant who had boon dead
many years. People believed in the existence of Madame
Janaen, although no one had ever seen her. More than
once in the early morning, before the work-day life had
begun in the busy city, au old woman, who sold edibles
at the street corner, had been seen to knock at the door
of the deserted house. On these oooasions the door
opened on the chain, a wrinkled hand and arm protruded
into the old woman's basket to take what was needed, and
then the arm was withdrawn, the door closed softly, and
all was silent as before.
These rumors served to heighten the mystery im
mensely. My vocation as notary often took me among
people' who professed to know a great doal about Sievart
Jansen and his widow; and these stoutly maintained that
Madame Jansen was dead, that she had only survived
her husband a few months, and that she lay buried at his
side. I once bad occasion to search the archives of the
Tribunal. In my search I stumbled across Madame Jan
sen's will, duly signed and sealed according to the legal
formula. I saw at a glanoe by this document that my
suspicions had been correct, and that Madame Janaen
was not only still living, but had dealings with the outer
world. It was only by idle goeaip that she had been
buried all those years.
Aooording to custom, my wifo and I called on a Mon
sieur and Madame Vorbist, who lived on our right Oar
conversation seemed naturally to turn in the direction of
the occupant of the house on my left; and after saying
that I eouiiered it unsooiabla to avoid an uninviting
looking dwelling, both my wife and myself said that we
iutouded to pay our roHpootB in that direction also. At
theso words my txiauii Luliod in our tci.
"You will never got in there," said Monsieur VorbiBt;
" for years, I boliove, no one has croHsed the threshold.
The old lady keejw house all by horaolf, no one knows .
how; and even if you oontrived to foroe an entranoe, your
politonoss would be ill requited."
"But," I olwerved, "I am informed, on unimach.
able authority, that she gives a quarter of hor fortune to
the town and the romaindnr to a local charity, tiuch
gonorosity raises her high in my esteem; sho cannot lie
wholly unapproachable."
My noighhor shook his head dubiously.
"That may be true," said he, at length, " for she had
her hands tied by hor husband's will. Hut, after all,
what is this oharity? The object of her generosity is an
institution which pauor!xes and makes worthless those
wlurmight otherwise leoome useful oitixens. This richly
endowed oharity is for old soldiers and sailors, and the
institution is so shamefully managed that it lwnefita only
the most idlo and dissolute, Its foundation ia duo to
brother and sister who were both wealthy. The brother
was a retired major, and I never heard much good of
him; the sister was tho widow of sea captain. They
had no children, and s(ent the last few yaara of their
lives in a large house situated on an emlnouoo beyond
the North Gate. You may still see, in front of that
house, groups of these pensioner, carousing with shame,
leas impudence on tho proceeds of a oharity to whioh
they have no just claim; and if you oare to watch them,
you will see them drink, and will hoar them swear at
harmless folk, in a manner whioh disgusU all reseotnh!e
people. It is to such a erew that the bulk of your neigh,
bor's fortune is devoted."
I folt indignant at this waste of precious bounty, and
only hoped that tho description was overdrawn. At the
same time the mysterious benefactress tecams more and
more interesting to me, and I resolved to make her ac
quaintance. "The old lady must be a charactor indeedl I think
we will risk a visit," said I, laughing.
"We wish you every success," said Monsieur and
Madame Vorbist, and so we parted.
We were not admitted. In response to our knock (he
house door oened just far enough to insert a hand, but
there it stopped, held fast by the chain on the inside. I
tapped again, and heard the echoes die away in the long
passages. Just as I was on the point of knocking for the
third time, my wife chocked me. ,
" Don't you see that everybody is laughing at us?"
And, in truth, so it was. The iiwer-hy seemingly
enjoyed our dieoomfiturs, and hail many pleasaut things
to say to each other at our eipense.
The summer waa drawing to a close. Autumn had
begun to whiser of the dread things iu store for us.
On day my wife and I want down into the garden to ool-