On the other hand, when it is considered that young people who form imprudent attachments, instead of being effectually separated, as in old-fashioned times, by distance, can now-a-days, though four or five hundred miles apart, at any moment, by daylight or by moonlight, electrically converse with each other—in short, ask questions and give answers—it must be admitted that, although the galvanic telegraph has certainly triumphantly succeeded in stopping many matches, it has possibly, if the real truth could be known, made quite as many as it has marred.
With respect, however, to communications of this delicate nature, we deem it our duty very gravely to warn our young readers, especially those of the fairer sex, that unless London time were to be adopted—as it is—at all the electric stations, a despatch would arrive at its western destination at an earlier hour than that at which it had left its eastern starting-post; and thus a young lady might appear to have affirmatively answered in Devonshire an important question—say seven minutes and a half before, according to local clocks, it had actually been proposed to her in London!
In cases where crimes have been committed, the astonishing detective powers of the telegraph have already proved most valuable to the community. As, however, the numberless instances which might be cited are but endless exemplifications of the same principle, we will merely offer to our readers the fragment of one of them.
He never expected that!… He had made up his mind to give her the stuff,—he had deliberately bought it,—had paid for it,—had put it into his pocket,—had driven with it to the terminus of the Great Western Railway,—had flown with it along the line to Slough,—had walked with it to the cottage.
He had already deprived the poor creature of her character, and now, on the first day of the year 1845, he had come down to her on purpose to deprive her of her life.
With affected kindness he had offered her refreshment,—had waited while, with his money, she went to buy it,—he had summoned up courage? … no, cowardice and wickedness … enough secretly to pour the stuff from a tiny phial into her glass,—he had seen her, with feelings of gratitude to him, raise the mixture to her faded lips,—he had watched her swallow the first mouthful—then another—then drink,—he had expected every instant, as she reached the drugs, to see his degraded victim drop down dead before his eyes;—he could bear all this, but he did not know that it was the nature of the horrid poison he had purchased to betray the hand that administered it. Oh! he never expected that loud, horrid, piercing, convulsive scream!
As terrified and scared he opened the door to escape, the inhabitants of the neighbouring cottages, alarmed by the frightful noise they had just heard, sympathetically opened theirs. They saw him leave the house with hurried steps,—observed him make for the Slough road, where by another party he was observed to be “confused—to tremble—and on being addressed, to make no reply.” And yet he had only done what he had deliberately intended to perpetrate:—he knew there was no rest for the wicked, but, Oh! he had never expected that shrill, fearful, haunting scream!
On reaching the station he took his place in a departing train, and in a few minutes he apparently had effected his escape!
Everybody who has travelled by the Great Western Railway knows how joyously its well-appointed trains skim along the level country between Slough and London. He no doubt appreciated the speed—valued the wings with which he was flying—more than any of his fellow-passengers. He probably felt that no power on earth could overtake him, and that, if he could but dive into the mass of population in London, he would in perfect security flow with its streams unnoticed.