of this fruitless quest among strangers, so far from the
little that I held dear, and I was on the point of giving up
when this paragraph fell under my eye in a Montreal
newspaper:

A MYSTERIOUS CHARACTER.

"One who has ever passed the city of Ogdensburg by steamer
will no doubt recall a large gambrel-roofed house standing
near the water's edge, just out of the town, surrounded by
towering trees and enclosed on all sides by a wall nearly as
high as the eaves of the building. The wall suggests an
asylum, a house of detention or some like place set apart
for the unfortunate members of society. In reality, however,
it is the residence of a mysterious recluse of the name of
Lane, who shut himself up there nearly eighteen years ago
and has since been rarely seen. It was built after his own
plans, they say, when he came to Ogdensburg with his wife,
who died soon afterward. Nobody knows whence he came or
anything of his past history. He is apparently a total
stranger here below, holding no intercourse with the world
beyond that enclosure. His wife is said to have been a woman
of great beauty, and her death doubtless threw him into a
morbid state of mind, from which he has never rallied. Many
years ago he is known to have bought a full-grown African
lion from a traveling menagerie, and, soon after, he erected
the wall, presumably out of regard for the public safety.
Passers along the street have caught an occasional glimpse
of him through the high gate, walking in the grounds
surrounding his house, with the lion at his heels apparently