THE "EVENING MOON" FOR A TIME TAKES LEAVE OF THE CASE OF ANTONY
COWLRICK.
We have but little to add to the graphic statement of our Special
Reporter. He paid altogether three visits to the house in which Antony
Cowlrick's female friend, Blanche, rented a room; the last visit was
paid at noon of this day. His desire was to obtain some information
relating to the young woman's history; he has been unsuccessful.
Nothing is known of her history; she made her first appearance in the
neighbourhood about three months ago, took a furnished room, lived a
quiet life, and did not mix with the neighbours. She was never seen in
public-houses, and had no visitors. All that is known of her relates
to the little match girl, Fanny, her kindness to whom is the theme of
admiration and praise. Her name was Blanche--simply Blanche; she gave
and was asked for no other. The police have nothing to say against
her. There are few single young women living alone in the locality in
which Blanche resided against whom the tongue of scandal is not busy,
generally, it must be admitted, with sufficient reason; but nothing has
been elicited to the discredit of Blanche. Thus far, her record is a
good one.
Nothing has been seen of Antony Cowlrick; he has vanished utterly from
the sight of the police, who, although he was acquitted of the charge
they brought against him, had determined to keep their eye on him. He
has proved himself more than their match. The description given of him
by our Special Reporter is that of a man of medium height, probably
five feet eight inches, with spare frame, lithe and sinewy. His hair
is auburn, and appeared to grow freely. This free growth, and the
circumstance of his having been unshaved for weeks, render it difficult
to describe his features; all that can be said on this point is that
his face was haggard and distressed, and that there dwelt upon it an
expression which denoted deep trouble and perplexity. Every person who
has followed this case in our columns, and who has carefully read the
accounts we have presented to our readers, must feel a deep interest in
the man. The impression he made upon our Special Reporter--the prompt
repayment of the sovereign he borrowed--his language and manners--even
the collateral evidence supplied by what is known of his friend
Blanche--all tell in his favour. And stronger than every circumstance
combined are the concluding words of his letter to our Special Reporter.
"If you do not know what else to do with the money received by your
paper in response to its appeal for subscriptions on my behalf, I can
tell you--give it to the poor." There spoke a man in whose bosom beats
the true pulse of a lofty humanity. Antony Cowlrick, who, without
doubt, since his release, has read all that has appeared in our columns
concerning him, is aware that our last edition of yesterday contained a
full list of subscriptions sent to our office for him, the total amount
being £68 17s. It is a sum worth having, and might be supposed to be
especially acceptable to a man in Antony Cowlrick's apparently destitute
condition--a man upon whose person, when he was arrested, was found some
stale bread and cheese, and not a penny of money. In the face of this
evidence of poverty, Antony Cowlrick has not called for the handsome sum
we hold in trust for him, and has instructed us to give it to the poor.
We shall do so in a week from this date, unless Antony Cowlrick presents
himself at our office to receive it; or unless those who have subscribed
object. We trust they will not withdraw their subscriptions, which we
promise shall be faithfully and worthily applied in charity's cause.
Here, then, for the present, we leave the subject which has occupied so
large a portion of our space. The man murdered in the house, No. 119
Great Porter Square, lies in his grave, and his murderer is still at
large. Any of our readers may have come in contact with him this very
day; we ourselves may have walked elbow to elbow with him in the crowded
thoroughfares; and he will, of a certainty, if he be in England, read
to-night the words we are now writing. Tremble, thou unspeakable
monster! Though thou escape thy doom at the bar of earthly justice,
God's hand lies heavy upon thee, and shall weigh thee down until the
Judgment Day, when thou and thy victim shall stand face to face before
the eternal throne!
[Decoration]