HAVE several times reread the foregoing, attempting to trace in some part of it participation, conscious and independent, of my own mind. In a certain sense, which I can't precisely define, the entire contents appear to me deeply familiar—as if they treated of events, sights, emotions, which had been both forgotten, and were yet, when thus set forth, interiorly recognizable. But I cannot charge myself with having knowingly formed a single sentence; and I shall provisionally regard the writing—which more resembled the script in the old volume of "Endymion" than my own—as belonging to the phenomenon which physic professors term "trance-writing."
In a sort of structural coherence with my own previous entries in this journal, however, it seems to claim a place in the logical continuity of an experience which I shall not at present characterize, beyond remarking that it is inexplicable on ordinary grounds, and unprecedented. I will add, that I find myself unable to supplement, from any sources of my authentic memory, the narrative which some inadvertent movement of my own, or external accident, may have interrupted. I might no doubt, on a basis of probable conjecture, complete a description of the episode; but I am particularly solicitous to suffer no invasion of that kind to corrupt the integrity of this record.
For days past I have been intending to revisit the Museum Library, but was withheld by an obscure reluctance, which I this morning only overcame. In the interval, I discontinued writing, and tramped over some of the environs of London—Hampstead, Highgate, Blackheath, Greenwich—with no declared object in view, and with no result, unless it be an improvement in my appetite and general physical condition. But to-day, on a sudden impulse, I renewed my edifying intercourse with the librarian.
"You enter like an actor on his cue!" he declared. "I've been mousing about, in odd moments, as my habit is—and it's wonderful, sir, how prolific odd moments may prove!—and this very morning I happened on something which I think may have a bearing upon your investigation!
"The period of the regency, as you know, is a trifle difficult for the explorer; whether by chance or design, many promising 'leads' land one in a cul-de-sac. The regent had many private interests and affairs which were also half public, if you know what I mean; and in his desire—natural, no doubt—to conceal the private part, he might find it necessary to obliterate the public record along with it. But to come to the point—I have unearthed a little bundle of memoranda kept for his private use by a member of the bar from about 1815 to 1820, among which are included notes of information supplied by his solicitors in various cases that came into his hands. Parts of the memoranda are missing; and in others there are erasures or lacunas; but taken by long and large they give one, as I might say, a line!
"Now, one of these copies of information refers to a tragic incident which took place at the Theater Royal, Drury Lane, in the autumn of 1818, in which the name of your ancestor occurs. I have the papers here, under my arm; take a desk, and I'll indicate the passages that seem especially pertinent."
I sat down accordingly—I have never seen the librarian seated—and bending over me, with the papers on the desk, he turned them over as he proceeded.
"Performance, Drury Lane, principal attraction, Mrs. E. Aline Asgard, American, husband a Norwegian composer, from whom she was separated on grounds of cruelty—h-m! h-m! Mr. Asgard had arrived quietly in London—h-m! In consequence of information to effect that H. R. H. had betrayed interest—ah, an erasure!—here we pick it up—had granted several private audiences to Asgard; in consequence of which, under sanction of H. R. H., Asgard laid plans to—page missing here, I fancy—h-m! Ah, here we begin again: Obtained access, either before or during performance, to her private dressing-room in upper story of building—coach in waiting below—as she entered room, seized and attempted to gag her—vide testimony of Mrs. A.'s maid—Captain Lionel Heathcote, overhearing screams, hastened up the stairs and entered room.