LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2291, 5 August 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

A CLEVER DOCTOR.

[“ Boston Traveller.”] ( Concluded ) ‘ Mademoiselle,’ said he, in a loud voice, ’do awake and listen to me ; I must leave you for a moment to go find your friends.’ Ho sought a long time, but could not find anybody who wanted a lady from Ronen.

He came back to the carriage very discontentedly, when to his intense astonishment, he found a crowd around the compartment, where the lady still sat. He went forward to see what was the cause of the excitement.

‘ Are you the man who travelled from Bouen in this coupe ? ’ said a policeman.

‘ Yes.’ ‘Do you know that this lady Is dead ? You have poisoned her with prussic aoid! She has been dead four hours. ’ And the populace groaned. The oWgyman was speechless with horror. He tried to clear himself with all the earnest ness of an innocent man, but his story was a most improbable one The police found on him the purse of the poor woman and a bottle of prnsslc acid. It was the little bottle which Lr de La Belle had forced upon him in the train. Mr Lambert, stunned, half dead, allowed himself to be carried to prison without resistance—ho was past that. A day later he said; ‘ Take me to Ronen ; I will unmask the villain ; he can never face me.’ Two sergeants-de ville, with other employes of the police In plainjclothes, attended this dangerous criminal to Rouen in the railway, and drove to the honse of Dr de La Belle. Mr Lambert was sure that at the sight of his face the assassin doctor would confess all.

Dr de La Belle was engaged at that moment and kept him some time waiting. When at last the police began to be troubled, the head sergeant bade them be calm. ‘The house is guarded,’ aa:d he; ‘he cannot escape. ’ Presently there entered a calm, elderly gentleman, with spectacles, which he removed as he looked at them.

‘ I beg pardon for beeping you waiting,’ said he, ‘ but did you want me ? lam Dr de La Belle.’

Mr Lambert trembled from bead to foot. An abyss opened before him, of which he could not see the bottom. This was not at all the man whom he bad met on Mont St. Catherine.

* Yon are not Dr de La Belle at all 1’ said the unhappy man. ‘ I think I can prove that I am,’ said the suave old doctor, smiling. Alas ! everything was against him. The English clergyman had fallen into the most terrible snare laid by the most accomplished villain.

They returned to Paris. 1 1 wish I could mset him again with hla white dog,’ said Mr Lambert, throwing his hands in air.

‘ White dog, did you say V asked the serge in tde-ville. Some weeks passed and the police became convinced that Mr Lambert was innocent, but they were yet waiting for the real villain.

Mr Lambert was taken, blindfolded, and in the night, to a house, he knew not in what street, where he, however, was well lodged, and where he was allowed to read and write, but was strictly watched. Shortly after his new incarceration a valet arrived with his clothes, and asked him respectfully to make his toilet. A servant escorted him to a closed carriage, and drove toward the Champs Elysees. ‘ Look at everybody who passes,’ said the servant.

Mr Lambert looked, but saw nothing. The next day the sergeant, elegantly dressed, came again In an open carriage, and by the side of the coachman sat a white pointer dog Mr Lambert turned pale, ‘ You have seen that dog before V said the sergeant. ‘ It is his dog,’ said Mr Lambert. ‘ Keep calm and look about yon,’ said the policeman. But they looked in vain. They saw no master for the dog. *On the night that crime was committed this dog was found in Rouen without a master,’ said the sergeant. Later the prisoner was requested to make an evening toilet, and was escorted to a grand ball in a magnificent house in one of the beat parts of Paris. * You are serving the ends of justice,’said the sergeant to him. ‘Be patient and observe the guests.’ He was presented to the lady of the house, who received him very graciously, and who introduced him to her yonnger daughter. He talked with her and looked at the guests, but saw nothing.

Another week passed He went to another ball, in the same company. His young host, Monsieur de F., seated himself beside him, and drew carelessly before them the curtains of a large window which filled half the room.

It was not long before Mr Lambert heard the well-known voice of the sergeant of police (who in the most Irreproachable of black coats and white ties, looked like a Conde or a Montmorenoi) talking to a gentleman near him of hunting. I It Is a long time since I have followed the hounds,’ answered the gentleman. Mr Lambert darted from his seat. *lt is he!’ said he. ‘ltis Dr de La Belle.’ ‘Be silent,’ said Monsieur de P,, ‘be silent, ’ and he held him in his seat by main force. In a moment they were joined by the sergeant de-ville. I I have heard him ! it is his voice, ’ said Mr Lambert, trembling all over. ‘Perhaps we are all wrong,’ said the imperturbable individual. ‘ Stay here without moving. I will draw the curtain ; look at every one who enters with a lady on his arm; when the suspected passes, press my arm without a word.’ ‘ Is it Monsieur de Booage ?’ asked the host in a low voice of the officer. ‘ Probably,’ said the policeman; ‘he was the lover of the unfortunate Blanche Villiers.’ At this moment poor Lambert, peeping from behind the curtain, saw the well-known smiling face and jaunty figure of the doctor of Rouen pass, with a young lady on his arm. He gripped the arm of the officer. ‘lt Is he!’ said he choking. The sergeant do-ville drew the curtain quickly.

* The chain is complete,’ said he ;' we only wait for the dog Mr Lambert, your imprisonment will be short. One more visit and you are free !’ The next day a close carriage, with the white pointer under the seat, called for Mr Lambert.

* I shall conduct yon to his door, but you mnat enter alo e,’ said the friendly sergeant. ‘ You are not afraid ?' ‘ d fraid !’ said the Englishman, ‘ I only desire to kill him.’

* No, no personal violence, please. You would spoil a very pretty job!’ said the officer. 1 Ooaohman, drive to the house of Monsieur de Bocage, Avenue Josephine. ’ When Mr Lambert, pale as death, rang the bell of the inner door, M de Bocage, a Parisian swell, just putting on his gloves, opened it himself. He started back, horrified, but soon composed himself. ‘ You wish to see me, sir ?’ said he

‘Yes, yon wretched murderer!’ said the Honorable and Reverend Lambert, ‘ I do wish to see you.’ M. de Bocage retreated several steps. ‘ You are mad, ’ said he.

‘ I have come to unmask you, villain! ’ * You are deceived, my brave gentleman,’ said M. de Bocage, and reaching behind him he caught up a pistol and discharged It full in the face of the Englishman.’

At this nolee and the fall of the clergyman, who was stunned and blinded for a moment, the two sergeants and several policemen entered the room, accompanied by a white pointer, who leaped up and caressed Monsieur de Bocaga. ‘Down, Thanor, down!’said tho murderer, forgetting himself. ‘ The chain is complete, ’ said the sergeant joyfully. ‘ Monsieur da Bocage, alias Dr. de La Belle, you stand charged with the murder of Mademoiselle Blanche Vllliers, in a coupe of the railway, which left Kouen at 1 o’clock at night on the 13th instant, a crime which you sought to affix to this gentleman.

( Throw a pitcher of water in his face; the pistol ball was drawn this morning, while Monsieur de Bocage took his chocolate, ho is not hurt.’) So saying, the sergeant revived the Englishman, and took Monsieur de Bocage from ids luxurious chamber toward twenty years f the galleys. The wretch looked back. ‘ It was you, Thanor, after all,’ said he, caressing the white pointer. ‘Yes,' said the sergeant, encouragingly. 1 Had you but remembered to give the poor thing a pill of strychnine ! ’ The Honorable and Reverend Mr Lambert returned home much better. He had certainly taken the advice of his unknown medical adviser, and had varied his usual life considerably. He never travelled in a coupe at night again with veiled ladies, nor did ho ever quite get over the horror of rf having ridden from Rouen to Paris with a corpse. He had the curiosity to take the doctor’s prescription to an apothecary in London, who analysed it. * A powerful stimulant, sir,’ said he. 1 We should not recommend you to use it very frequently. Still, in extreme cases of depression it might bo well.’ Mr Lambert never lost his admiration of the French police. They were, he thought, a very accomplished set of actors.