N
otwithstanding the lapse of time since Dickens' death, and the many painstaking efforts made to solve the mysterious plot of his great unfinished work, it will be generally admitted that no very happy elucidation of that always fascinating problem has hitherto been offered to the public. It now remains to be seen whether the attempt set forth in the following pages shall be consigned to oblivion as unsatisfactory with its many predecessors, or shall be so fortunate as to carry off, by general consent, the palm of victory, as being the true solution at last. The theory advanced some years ago—that Edwin Drood was actually killed by Jasper, and that Datchery is none other than Helena Landless in robust disguise, must appear to every sympathetic student of Dickens as untenable as it is un plea sing. The great master never fails of chivalrous delicacy in his treatment of beautiful and interesting young womanhood, but he must be admitted to have fallen very far below his ordinary level in this respect if the stately Helena be indeed one with the "idle dog" and "single buffer" who disposes of a pint of sherry for his dinner, and is presented to us " buttoned up in a tightish blue surtout, with a buff waistcoat and grey trousers." No: Datchery is distinctly uncompromisingly masculine. Whatever else he may be hiding or assuming there is no masquerade of sex. |