The Ottawa Free Trader

From the N. Y. Journal of the Times,
'The Mysterious Lodger.'

The upper apartment of our boarding house, that is to say, a portion of the garret, was hired at an exceedingly low price of the landlady, by a gentleman who gave his name as BARNABAS STOLLER. He was about twenty-five years of age, dressed in a rusty suit of black, and the unfortunate possessor of a countenance that would have secured his success as the "poor apothecary" in "Romeo and Juliet." He seldom had any communication with the others, and there was a certain air of mystery about him that puzzled every body in the house—no one could tell the nature of his business, nor give any information of the slightest circumstance touching his course of life. No one ever inquired for him at the house excepting at meals, at which he was punctual, and which he devoured voraciously, and he remained, while within the walls, secluded in his apartment—the partitioned portion of the garret above mentioned.

The landlady, who certainly possessed as much curiosity as any member of the fair sex with whom it has ever been my good fortune to have any dealings, had sounded every body in order to gain some clue to the mystery which enveloped Mr. Stoller. but without satisfaction. She had even propounded many circuitous inquiries to the gentleman himself, but received only vague replies, which only increased her excitement.—He regularly paid his board every Saturday night, and always of coin of the smallest description, which he drew from a well worn leathern purse.

He had resided in the house but a single month, when the landlady discovered the following astonishing and incomprehensible fact:—

Every Saturday afternoon about the hour of four, Mr. Barnabas Stoller entered the house and proceeded directly to his room, and having audibly turned the key in the lock, would remain secluded for full three hours! This proceeding occurred regularly every Saturday, and by divers means did Mrs. Jones, the landlady, endeavor to solve the mystery of this temporary retirement. Once or twice she had been detected by one of the lodgers, peering through Mr. Stoller's key-hole, but it being obstructed on the inner side by the key, it was somewhat difficult to obtain an accurate view of the premises. Nevertheless, by dint of waiting with her ear to the door for many minutes, the worthy dame had heard strange, indefinite sounds rising from within, which, although they convinced her that something was progressing, cast but little light upon the subject of her investigations.

"Betty," she remarked to her maid of all work, one day, after one of these visits to the entry above,—
"what can be doing every Saturday at this particular time?"

"I'm sure I can't imagine, ma'am," replied the girl, "unless he's a counterfeiter."

"A counterfeiter!" exclaimed Mrs. J., "very likely, Betty, and most probably a counterfeiter of half dollars, for he pays me every Saturday night in small change, for which he must have exchanged his spurious money—but then, Betty," added the landlady, "he could hardly make a living at counterfeiting, if he only works three hours during the week."

"No ma'am, that's true," answered Betty, "but still I'm satisfied he must be doing something horrible, though." The landlady cogitated some time deeply, and then shaking her head slowly from side to side, spoke again—

"Well, Betty, he may be a conspirator—he may have some horrible plot in his head, and I really do not feel safe in the house with him. unless I can discover what he does so slyly every Saturday—so to-night I'll ask him boldly at supper, in what way he employs himself regularly once a week in his room."

They both concluded the plan was a good one, and the conference ended.

At the first sound of the bell the inmates flocked to supper, and among the foremost was the unconscious Stoller, dressed in his only suit of black. He seated himself, and commenced with his usual voracity upon the provisions before him; the boarders were all seated and well engaged—Betty was standing behind her mistress' chair with a face in which anxiety and curiosity were strongly blended; no sound was heard save the clattering of knives and forks, with now and then the rattle of a tea-spoon in the cup. The landlady, feeling that this was her time, made a strong effort and exclaimed—

"Mr. Stoller!" said Mrs. Jones at the tea-table, could not certainly attract extraordinary attention, but the tone and manner of the lady startled many of the boarders sitting around; many dropped their knives and forks, and cast their eyes rapidly from Mrs. Jones to Mr. Stoller, the latter gentleman suspended his attacks on the supper, and gazed with an agitated countenance at the head personage of the house.

"Mr. Stoller!" said Mrs. Jones, speaking slowly in order to give every word its due emphasis—"you are probably aware that I endeavor to carry on the affairs of my house as honestly and circumspectly as possible"—here was a pause, several lodgers nodded, and one who was noted for being remiss in paying his board bill when due, intimated in an audible voice, that the domestic economy of Mrs. Jones house was not excelled by that of any similar establishment in the city.

"Mr. Stoller," continued Mrs. Jones, "will you be kind enough to inform me if you can, what business detains you in your room every Saturday, between the hours of four and seven in the afternoon?",

All gazed at Mr. Stoller, anxious to have the important question settled: his agitation had increased to a fearful extent during Mrs. Jones' remarks; upon hearing her inquiry, he started to his feet: his face was deeply crimsoned, and he strove for some minutes in vain to speak.

"Ma'am," cried he, at last—"You—you—I—cannot—now!—"

He stooped suddenly—kicked over his chair, and dashed out of the room.

No pen can describe the astonishment of the spectators at this unexpected exit: Mrs. Jones started to her feet, and when she at length found her voice, addressed the company:—

"Now, gentlemen!" said she, "I am satisfied that Mr. Stoller must be engaged in some horrible plot in his room every Saturday—some counterfeiting scrape or forgery—at any rate some matter which will most likely destroy the credit of my house. I'm sure you must all agree with me when I say, that this dangerous secret must be drawn from him by some means or other. I know from the fright which seized him when I asked him the question that there is something going wrong."

Here Mrs. Jones hesitated, waiting to be assisted from her difficulty by some of the boarders present.

"Suppose," said one, "that the next time he shuts himself up in his room; we all go in a body and break open the door."

This brave proposition was immediately put down as being too entirely belligerent in its general features.

"Couldn't some one slide down the roof of the house and peep in at the window?" asked another, doubtfully.

"That might do," said Mrs. Jones looking round upon the company in hopes to discover some one who would undertake the task, but no one moved, for the roof being a slated one and very steep, was consequently too hazardous to be trusted for a foothold.

"I think," said one of the gentlemen at the head of the table, "if we should all get together next Saturday afternoon and cry 'fire' in the entries, we might bring him out, and then discover his employment."

"Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. Jones, "that's a good plan, but it would be liable to raise the neighborhood—but I think we'll close all the doors and windows and try it—at any rate it can't do much harm."

In fine, the last was considered by the company to be a most excellent plan for the detection of Mr. Stoller, in his dreadful plots, and the requisite arrangements were made on the spot.

Nothing was said to Mr. Stoller during the week, and when Saturday afternoon at last arrived, the greater part of the boarders were in their rooms waiting for his arrival. At the usual hour of four, the suspected lodger entered the house, and proceeded, as was his custom, directly to his room. His door had been locked about half an hour, when a large party of the boarders, headed by Mrs. Jones was stealthily formed in the lower hall, and different detachments were then filed off to separate portions of the house, and two gentlemen, more courageous than the rest, stationed themselves close to Mr. Stoller's room, ready to glide in and examine the apparatus, as soon as he opened the door.

All these preliminaries being arranged, Mrs. Jones, and her servant Betty raised a heart-rending shriek in the kitchen, and then dashed up to the entry. The party in the lower hall slammed the doors and at the top of their voices screamed fire—

"FIRE! FIRE!!"

Their united efforts were completely successful, for suddenly Mr. Stoller's door opened, and out rushed the gentleman himself. His coat was buttoned up about his neck, and his sleeves turned up, leaving his arms bare; in his hands he held a white article dripping with water.

"What is the matter, Mrs. Jones!" cried he, looking with astonishment upon the crowd that had collected about his door.

No answer was returned, and the two courageous gentlemen who had insinuated themselves into his room, sneaked out again.

No cry of "fire" was now heard. and a dim light broke upon Mr. Stoller's mind—he saw the trick.

"Ah, gentlemen," said he slowly, "I see how it is; will a few of you gentlemen have the kindness to come into the room with Mrs. Jones, and all the mystery shall be explained."

They crowded in, the landlady taking the lead, and his room was completely filled.

"Now gentlemen," said he slowly, "you have all taken so much interest in my affairs that it is but just you should all be indulged with the knowledge of the strange sight which has harassed your minds.—You see, gentlemen, that wash-basin, and in the chimney corner you will perhaps observe a few burning embers, and in my hand you will notice an article concerning which I hope there can be no mistake, and gentlemen by putting all these things together, you will easily see that at an appointed time every Saturday afternoon—"

"That you do what?" cried several voices anxiously, as Mr. Stoller paused.

"Wash and dry my only shirt for Sunday!"

The room was cleared in an instant, and that night the "mysterious lodger" paid his board and left the house forever.