One of the scenes was laid in Millbank, in those days a gaol for female convicts. Anxious to have the details correct, I invited a friend of mine who had held a high official position in the gaol to come to the dress rehearsal. He sat by me in the stalls. When the curtain rose on the prison scene a number of female convicts were standing on the stage in charge of a warderess. My friend eyed them critically to see that the dress was worn correctly and the cap put on properly. At one of the convicts he gazed intently. When he had passed the scene as correct in detail he turned to me and said-- "I couldn't help staring at that young lady--the fourth in the row. She is the living image of a woman who was in my charge ten years ago--Mrs. ----------; you remember the case?" I did remember it. Mrs. ---------- was a lady for whom there was considerable sympathy. Maddened by her husband's neglect and ill-treatment, she shot him with a revolver one night after a fierce quarrel. The wound was nearly fatal, and the unfortunate woman was awarded a term of penal servitude. "I never saw such an extraordinary resemblance to Mrs. ---------- in her convict dress," said the official; "but, of course, it is a coincidence. Mrs. ---------- was old enough to be this young lady's mother." After the act was over I went behind the scenes to make a few alterations, and I told the young actress "convict" that the gentleman in front was a prison official, and I added jokingly, "He says you are the living image of Mrs. ----------, who was at Millbank for the attempted murder of her husband." I expected the young lady to laugh, but, to my astonishment, the colour faded from her face and she became visibly distressed. "What a dreadful idea!" she gasped. "It frightens me--I--I wish you hadn't told me." She walked quickly away, and I thought no more of the incident. Long afterwards I learnt the truth. The young actress who had attracted the attention of the prison official _was_ the daughter of Mrs. ----------. Under another name she had gone upon the stage. It was a strange coincidence that the daughter of a female convict should be called upon to represent a female convict in Millbank before an official who had been at Millbank when her mother was there. CHAPTER XXI.--THE ROMANCE OF REALITY _She waits in vain--Messengers from the First Cousin of the Moon-- Witches and wise women--The seventh child of a seventh child-- Secret societies of vengeance--Italy in London_ |THE strange, the weird, the romantic, may be found at every turn of the great maze of mystery which is called London. The homes of mystery and romance lie often at our very doors, unknown and unexpected. We pass a scene that the novelist or the dramatist could turn to thrilling account, and to us it suggests not even a passing thought of wonder. Here is a house in a fashionable road in that part of the north-west which borders on Hampstead.