400 



KNO^VLEDGE 



[Nov. U, 1884. 



"CRACKLE" GLASS. 



THIS variety of glass, which has become so fashionable 

 on account of its effective and crackled appearance, is, 

 according to the Glassware Reporter, very easily made. 



It is produced by covering one side of a piece of plate- 

 glass with a thick stratum of a flux or readily fusible glass, 

 mixed with coarse fragments of glass. In this condition it 

 is placed in a muffle, or an open furnace, where it is 

 strongly heated. As soon as the flux is melted and the 

 glass itself has become red-hot, it is removed from the 

 furnace and rapidly cooled. The flux (or fusible glass), 

 under this treatment, cracks and splits, leaving innumer- 

 able fine lines of fracture over its surface, having much 

 the appearance of scales or irregular crystals, which cross 

 and intersect each other in every direction, producing very 

 striking and beautiful effects when the light falls upon its 

 surface. 



The rapid cooling of the fusible coating is effected either 

 by exposing the heated mass to the action of a current of 

 ■cold air, or by cautious sprinkling with cold water. 



By protecting certain portions of the glass surface from 

 the action of the flux, these portions retain their original 

 smoothness and polish, and form a striking contrast to the 

 crackled portions of the surface. By this means inscriptions 

 or decorative designs of every description are produced 

 -upon a colourless or coloured ground. 



A modification of this method of producing crackle glass 

 is the following : A coarsely granular flux is strewn upon 

 the surface of a gla=s cylinder, while the latter is red hot, 

 until the flux melts. It is then removed and rapidly cooled 

 either by the use of water or by waving it about in the air. 

 The stratum of melted flux is then caused to crack as above 

 described. The cylinder is then cut, flattened, and brought 

 • to a level surface in the usual manner. 



DICKENS'S STORY LEFT HALF TOLD. 



A QDASI-SCIENTIFIC INqmKY INTO 



THE MYSTERY OF EDWIN DROOD. 

 By Thomas Foster. 



{Concluded.) 



I HAVE purposely kept to the last what I take to be 

 the most striking proof of all that Edwin Drood was 

 not really slain and that he communicated at once with 

 Grewgious — a proof plain and striking, yet somehow 

 entirely overlooked by all who have examined the story 

 (except Mr. Proctor and myself, who take the same view 

 - of the plot). 



When Mr. Grewgious had given the ring to Edwin 



■which had been removed from the unconscious hand of 



Rosa's mother, he was sad and out of spirits. " I hope I 



have done right," he says : " it was hard to lose the ring, 



and yet it must have gone from me very soon." "He 



• closed the empty drawer with a sigh, shut and locked the 



-escritoire, and came back to the solitary fireside. ' The 



-ring,^ he went on, ' will it come back to me 1 My mind 



'^hangg about her ring very uneasOy to-night. But that is 



•explainable. I have had it so long and prized it so much.' " 



This much-prized memento of his dead love was, he 



knows, in Edwin's possession when he disappeared. The 



watoh, chain, and breast-pin which were also in Edwin's 



possession are found in Cloisterham Weir. Is it conceivable 



that Grewgious would have made no inquiry whatever 



about the ring he valued so much if he had supposed — as 



so many readers imagine he did — that Drood had been 



made away with 1 Is it conceivable that when feeling 



and duty alike (and with almost equal strength, we may 

 say, when we consider that duty was a passion with him) 

 urged Grewgious to seek for the ring, he would have over- 

 looked his duty and set his feelings on one side, as he 

 actually did, if he knew no more than the ordinary reader 

 supposes 1 I answer unhesitatingly that this is not con- 

 ceivable. It is absolutely certain that Mr. Grewgious had 

 the ring again in his possession many hours before the 

 watch, chain, and pin were found in the weir 1 



But we are told that in resolving to restore this very 

 ring to hin breast, Edwin was unconsciously preparing " a 

 chain, riveted to the foundations of heaven and earth, and 

 gifted with invincible force to hold and drag." The idea 

 is suggested that the ^ring was to be found in the tomb 

 when Edwin himself and his very clothes had disappeared 

 through the action of the quicklime. But this idea a score 

 of reasons have compelled us to abandon. How are we to 

 reconcile what was said about the ring and our knowledge 

 that Jasper is to be condemned to death for murder, with 

 what we know to have happened to Edwin and with what 

 we know to have been planned against Jasper. 



Very easily, if we consider the course which Edwin's 

 plans would naturally take after he had discovered what 

 the old opium-eater knew or might learn. Among the 

 revelations he was awaiting must inevitably have come the 

 discovery that Jasper's main idea in removing the watch, 

 chain, and pin was that they might afford no evidence 

 against him in the tomb. So soon as Edwin and Grew- 

 gious had learned this, their power to inflict a very terrible 

 punishment on Jasj)er would at once be manifest. They 

 would see that the use of the watch, chain, and pin, to bring 

 suspicion on Neville, was only an afterthought. They 

 would feel that Jasper had planned to remove all trace of 

 his guilt from the tomb into which he had flung his victim; 

 and they would force on him the completion of his purpose. 

 Edwin had himself removed from the tomb the only object 

 which could have resisted the action of the quicklime. But 

 of that ring Jasper had known nothing. What horror fell 

 upon his guilty mind when he learned that he had unwit- 

 tingly left a fatal witness of his crime, within the very tomb 

 of his victim ! His sense of security is at once utterly 

 shaken. He broods over his danger, while he shudders at 

 the thought of the only possible way of removing it. But, 

 struggle as he may to resist, he is compelled at last to take 

 this dreadful yet only available course. He is forced to the 

 tomb itself, nay to the very dust of his victim, that he may 

 there grope in darkness and horror for the evidence of his 

 crime. 



We may feel sure that a part of Jasper's penalty was to 

 have been this, — to be driven by terror for his life to face 

 the ghastly terror of his victim's tomb. Further, I have 

 myself no doubt that the course of his fate was to have 

 been so guided that his visit to the tomb was made on the 

 same day of the year on which his attack had been made, 

 and at the self-same hour of the night. 



Creeping down the crypt steps, oppressed by growing 

 horror and by terror of coming judgment, sickening under 

 fears engendered by the darkness of night and the charnel- 

 house air he breathed, Jasper opens the door of the tomb 

 and holds up his lantern, shuddering at the thought of 

 what it may reveal to him. 



And what sees he ? Is it the spirit of his victim that 

 stands there, " in his habit as he lived," his hand clasped 

 on his breast, where the ring had been when he was mur- 

 dered 1 What else can Jasper deem it 1 There, clearly 

 visible in the gloom at the back of the tomb, stands Edwin 

 Drood, with stem look fixed on him, — pale, silent, 

 relentless ! 



With a shriek of horror (the ghost of that awful cry had 



,i 



