Public interest was again kept at high tension by the curiosity of the people to account for the motive of the outrage. Then came the apprehension of suspected persons, afterwards liberated, and finally of one named Souter, who was convicted in the High Court at Edinburgh and sentenced to penal servitude. The conviction hardly met the justice of the case, for it was obvious that there must have been a group of grave-robbers at work.
One of the most curious things about the case was that the police informed Mr. Ross that they believed it was the intention of the guilty parties to make a confession, and that they had elected to make him the medium of it. It was actually arranged that the parties were to travel to Aberdeen by a certain train to reveal the whole mystery, but for reasons that have never transpired this plan was subject to sudden eclipse, and to this day the mystery remains as much a mystery as ever. The unfortunate man Souter, whose actual guilt was greatly doubted, called upon Mr. Ross the moment he was set at liberty, and through him communicated to the Press a circumstantial repudiation of his own responsibility, and promised that what he knew about the crime and the criminals would ultimately be revealed when considerations of honour which had kept him silent could be removed.
This is the story of the famous mystery which formed one of the most thrilling newspaper sensations of modern times, and which created for the present manager of Black and White a reputation for enterprise which has lasted till to-day.
IN THE EDITOR'S PRIVATE OFFICE—"I HAVE AN IMPORTANT SECRET TO SELL!"
Of a hundred interesting sides of newspaper life I have been unable to say anything. The dangers of war correspondents—the humours of the society column, and the people who want to get into it—the financial editor—the lady journalist—the parliamentary staff—the descriptive reporter—the newspaper artist—the £ s. d. of journalism—each and all of these, and many more, would make a paper of considerable interest; and Mr. Joseph Hatton should write his "Journalistic London" anew, for the whole newspaper position has changed since his last edition.
The sub-editor and the descriptive reporter appear to me to be the men upon whom the chief work of the journalism of the future will fall. In France, where they do many things well, such masters as Zola have raised descriptive newspaper writing to the level of an art. Here, save in the case of war correspondence and parliamentary work, we have not specialised much as yet. A descriptive reporter, as one of the artists who has illustrated this little chat of mine suggests, may be sent out to describe a murder trial, a fire, an execution, or interview a great novelist!
We shall improve by-and-by. The old verbatim reporter will always remain, but he must give way to the descriptive writer in many matters.
Touching the question of the publishing of great secrets—such as that of Mr. Gladstone's retirement already referred to—I claim for the newspaper press of Britain that it refrains from publishing news calculated to needlessly injure or offend. How well do we know the fair visitant who comes to us with some great scandal to sell, and who becomes almost indignant when she is politely shown out. Women, I fear, are more versed in this matter than men.
