Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 20, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 February 1875 — A LIVING STATUE. [ARTICLE]

A LIVING STATUE.

In the height of the Exhibition season of 1862 there was a great deal of unpleasantness, mystery, and suspicion generated in the Industrial Palace by a constant succession of petty robberies, which took place nearly every night at the best stalls. Articles of value were stolen from drawers and boxes; money left by stall-keepers often went, unless very securely stowed away; but the depredators did not venture on taking any bulky articles, or on breaking open any receptacle which would require great force. They knew their risks, that was evident; and that the thefts were committed by some person or persons connected with the Exhibition was also beyond a doubt. Watches had been set, traps had been laid over and over again, but all in vain. When too much had been done in the way of planting watchmen no robberies took place at ail; and when articles had been purposely left, apparently forgotten, but in reality fixed by the minutest wires to bells which sounded at the slightest touch, they were left untouched. The thief, if only one, always stole, too, from places in the shade, so that he could command a view of the more open spaces, while he himself was unseen. One morning as the Sergeant of Polioe was going his early round before the building was opened for the day he came upon an exhibitor and his staff of assistants, who were grouped around a box which was open before them, and at which they were looking with apparent interest. “Good morning, Mr. Basel ton,” said the officer; “ a very fine day we are likely to have.” “Fine day, sir! And a very fine night we have had, too, I suppose,” retorted the exhibitor in a tone far less pleasant than that in which he had been addressed. “ Here’s a pretty affair! Seven pounds’ worth of Scotch pebbles set in silver —brooches, ear-rings, etc. —the whole of them clean gone.” The Sergeant, with expressions of. regret, said he Would see the officer who had been on duty. Mr. Baselton professed to have lost all confidence in the police, and asserted that if he were to watch the thief would certainly be discovered the very first night. “I wish you would try, then,” said the Sergeant; “ I would obtain permission to watch with you, and if you can suggest anything fresh I will gladly support yon.” ' ■ , Although when he made this last assertion Mr. Baselton probably meant nothing at all, yet, after a little talk with the officer, the desire of finding the thief and his belief in his own superior acuteness were strong enough to make him volunteer to watch; and it was agreed that the Sergeant should join him just as the palace was closing at night, when they would be on the look-out directly, for it was impossible to say at what time of the night the robberies were committed. Strict silence was enjoined on either side and observed by the Sergeant entirely and by Mr. Baselton pretty well, as he mentioned his plan to Mr. Chatenoux at the French stall just by, and to his neighbors. Mr. Hynks and Mr. Carrabies. Mr. Carrables, by the way, was not there that morning, so Baselton told Mr. Glisser, Mr. Carrables’ foreman, instead, who, in a becomingly sympathizng tone, wished him success. The evening came, the spies met and hAMg about the passages of the vast building Until deepest twilight and until Baselton was pretty nearly tired of being on his feet. “Now,” said the Sergeant, unconsciously dropping his voice as he spoke, “we will take up our quarters. If we can only get there unperceived. I have arranged what 1 think you will find a pretty good corner.” “ All right,” returned the exhibitor, in the same guarded tone; and they stole noiselessly on, passing once or twice r a constable; but the presence of the Sergeant of course prevented any questioning. Some large boxek, left apparently by accident at the angle of a stall, were in reality so placed that they formed an almost perfect screen, and, without any reason to suppose that they bad been noticed, they slipped in and sat down. Presently the • moon rose; and as it climbed higher and its light grew stronger the building became visible throughout with a light which was most unearthly . and ghostly in its character. This impressed itself very much upon Baselton. “I had no idea, Sergeant,” he whis-

pered to the officer, “ that the place was such a strange, cemeteryish sort of a spot as it is. I must own, I should not like to be on duty here all might. However, 1 have brought some little refreshments with me, so let us make ourselves comfortable.” In silence they ate and drank, and in silence, save for the chiming of the clock or the occasional tread of a policeman, the hours crept on. The policemen passed within a couple of yards of the watchers repeatedly, but whether they knew of their presence or not Baselton could not judge. The length and weariness of the hours grew at last intolerable to him, and, seeing that the Sergeant was as cool and wide awake as when they first entered their lair, he whispered: “ J feel terribly drowsy, Sergeant; I'always do about this time. Five minutes’ nap will make me feel as fresh as a daisy. Rouse me up if you hear anything before that time.” His companion smiled, and in the same subdued tone gave the promise. Nothing did happen requiring Mr. Baselton’s presence either before or after the expiration of five minutes, although the officer stealthily looked out a hundred times during the night. At last the darkness thinned away, and then, after a short, gray twilight, dawn came, and the Sergeant shook Baselton by the shoulder. “ Yes, yes; I’m ready,” stammered the exhibitor, then opened his eyes very wide indeed. “Why, it’s daylight! 1 must have slept ” “ Yes, of course you have,” interrupted the other; “ but let us get out quietly. 1 don’t mind our men seeing us, of course; but others need know nothing of our watch.” “ I think the less your men or anybody else know about the way we kept our watch, the better,” said Mr. Baselton, as they left the counter; “ in fact, I shall regard it as a friendly thing if you say nothing about it.” The Sergeant smiled, but kept his own counsel; and it may be hinted that Baselton was a very liberal fellow, although somewhat hasty. It turned out that no pilfering had taken place that night; nor did any occur for two or three nights after, a fact which Mr. Glisser attributed to the influence of Mr. Baselton’s vigilance. He took great interest in the exhibitor’s plans, and paid him several compliments, which the latter received with but indifferent grace, having reasons that the other knew not of for thinking but modestly of this same vigilance. One morning a little while after the fruitless watch Mr. Baselton was in a very bad temper, for he had sustained a fresh loss. He was leaning against a pillar some short distance from his counter, thoughtfully biting the end of his pencil-case, when a man spoke to him. He looked round at the sound, and saw a police constable, whom he very much diSliked for his apathy and unbusinesslike ways, standing close by him. He growled out some hardly civil words, and turned from the man, but the latter was not to be daunted. “lam afraid you have had a loss, sir,” said the man, “ and hope it is not very serious; but at any rate I should like a word or two with you.” “ What for?” retorted Baselton. “jl have lost a gold watch, and as I have not breathed a syllable about it to a soul I don’t see how you could know anything of it unless some of your lively' 4 force’ have ” “You are too severe, Mr. Baselton,” said the other, finding he stopped; “ you are indeed, sir. Now, sir, I have my opinion about these robberies, and I think I have found out the order the thief works in, and can pretty well guess in what quarter he will next try. I believe I can catch him.” “You!” exclaimed Baselton, with an emphasis which was anything but complimentary to the officer. “ Yes, sir,” replied the man firmly. “ I cap* You have a go6d deal of influence with the authorities, and if you will ask I shall be taken oft' regular duty and detailed for special service; and I can then catch him.” “ Well, tell me your plans,” said Baselton, “ and in return I will tell you this: You know there are £SO offered on the quiet for the apprehension of the thief. Find him, and I will make it £100.” The constable smiled, and, lowering his voice, spoke to the exhibitor in whispers. When he had finished Baselton slapped his hand on the counter with a force that jarred every article around, and exclaimed: “You are right. Are you on duty?” “ No, sir,” said the man. “ Then you shall be.” ’ . ir— The application for the constable’s change of duty was doubtless made, for he disappeared from his accustomed patrol. During the next day or two Baselton became loquacious on the subjeqt, and in conversation with Mr. Glisser, who took a very kindly interest in the matter, owned that he had changed his opinion about the matter of the robberies. He w'as convinced, he said, that if the thief came by night he would have been caught long before, but that everybody was on the wrong scent, and that the thefts, were really committed in the bustle of closing for the evening, and then, not being found out till the morning, it was naturally supposed that the thief came in the night. Mr. Glisser was much struck by this view, which he commended highly, and urged increased vigilance about the time spoken of. While this was going on there had been,. no fresh depredations from the counters, and Constable Lowcliffe had been absent from duty, although no one seemed to have noticed it. When the visitors departed at the close of the day all the interior of the building became depressing enough, as the light faded away, and there were no places more spectral in their aspect than those where clustered most closely the white statues, which were sprinkled about. Nymphs, Yenuses, Bacchuses and Apollos, Grecian hunters, scriptural and mythological fieures, all looked equally ghostly in their dim white, when twilight or night had fallen upon them. So, in the gray of the evening, all the statuary looked dim and unearthly enough, as the stony figures

looked down from their pedestals; but none looked Qiore sepulchral than did a tall, sheeted figure which occupied a pedestal slightly screened—come from which direction the visitor might —by two or three large groups. This figure might have been taken in the distance, and in the dim light, for a Jewish priest, or a Druid, or anything of the kind; but had anyone come near enough t,o inspect it would have been seen that the long robe was of linen, not stone, and that the face was less that of an ancient hero than a modern one. And what was rather strange, this particular pedestal was empty all day, and only occupied at night. Standing at this particular spot, anyone could see in every direction a considerable distance, and there was scarcely aujr illUlllg-pUIIV HUSl 11 ' UH! pedestal had no doubt reckoned on these facts having great weight with the marauder, Several nights had gone by, and no discovery made, and yet Ned Lowcliffe crept silently to his selected station, and, assuming his disguise as the shrouded statue, patiently watched all through the darkness; so patiently that no one not close enough to touch him could have imagined that he differed from the effigies around. It was yet comparatively early in his watch, on a certain night, and a young moon threw just sufficient light here and there to make everything more uncertain than usual, when Lowcliffe, finding himself a little cramped from standing so long in one position, prepared to make one of the guarded shifts he was forced to indulge in during the evening; but just as he commenced carefully to draw one leg behind the other he Stopped, rolled his eyes eagerly round, and then remained so motionless he scarcely breathed. With step almost noiseless — but not quite so for such a listener’s ears —a man glided round the angle of a -counter close by, and, standing close by Lowclifle, paused, stopped, looked round the floor in every direction, then sat upon an adjacent pedestal, and, leaning against the legs of a Hercules, listened. If the process of perspiration were not wholly a silent one Lowcliffe would have been betrayed, for the cold beads came upon his forehead as he saw how near he was to a discovery. The man was Bitting on the very next pedestal, a block which almost touched his own. There he waited quietly for a while, not very long, but long enough to assure himself that no patrol was coming that way; then he rose, and in a few steps was at the nearest counter, and had tried a key in the lock; one or two attempts failed, but at last a door opened, and his head and shoulders were lost to sight; he reappeared with a small box, which he placed op. the ground before him, and then tried one or two keys. Again the lock yielded, the lid was thrown back and a few articles were ippidly transferred to the man’s pocket. Some object, however, seemed unknown to him, and he held it up against the dim light, endeavoring to make out what it was. To his horror, one of the statues sprang from its pedestal toward him. It was instantaneous, but the flash was enough; the figure all in white moved and leaped upon him; then, with a fearful yell, which rang from end to end of the building, the thief fell in a fit upon the floor. Alarmed by the scream, two or three officers were speedily at the spot, and, turning on their lanterns,were nearly as much astonished in their turn to see a white-sheeted figure standing by the side of a man in convulsions. When their momentary surprise ceased upon their discovering who the sheeted figure was, they proceeded to unfasten the prostrate man’s scarf and collar, sprinkled him with water and lifted him from the ground; his struggles ceased, and a few long breaths announced that he was “ coming to.” “ I don’t know him,” said one of the constables. “ I do, though!” exclaimed Lowcliffe. “ Well! of all the parties as I could have supposed, I never could have supposed him. Why, it’s that blessed Glisser—from the stall next to old Baselton; a fellow that looks as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.” “ Where am I ? Who are you ?” said the miserable culprit. “ Oh, we’re particular friends of yours,” returned the officer. “ But I saw—l saw one of those things move,” said the man, looking timidly round with a dreadful shudder. Lowcliffe had stripped oft' his white raiment by this time, and so did not shock the wretched Glisser’s eyes. “ We will tell you all about that in the morning,” said the constable. “What you have got to do is to come along with us.” It was so—he had to “come along;” and directly the exhibitors and their staff mustered in the building the intelligence flew like wild-fire that Mr. Glisser was in custody for breaking into the stalls at night. It was a shock to a large circle of his acquaintances and admirers, who could hardly believe it; and when, on his lodgings being searched, the bulk of all the articles missing from the counters was found, the thing seemed more incredible still. Mr. Baselton was especially astonished, because he had made quite a confidant of the young man and had the mortification of, remembering how he himself had revealed to Mr. Glisser the various plans for detecting the thief; and that, if it had not been for Lowcliffe insisting on the ruse of attributing the pilfering to the afternoon instead of the night, he probably would have put the young man on his guard against the scheme which had proved successful. He recovered his watch and other articles, paid hia hundred pounds cheerfully, and gained a reputation with the “ force” for the extreme readiness with which he put his name down to their subscriptions for deserving objects. Mr Glisser’s proved a -very bad case and he was lost to sight for some years after the date pf the Exhibition of 1862. — Chamber* ’ Journal. —ln Poplar Bluff, Mo., a man courted the younger,of two girls in a family, and courted her successfully ;s but. they put up a job on him when he was drunk, apd married him to tbe elder. * - .