LITERATURE.
A CHAPTER OP DETECTIVE EXPERIENCE, [“Turf, Field, and Farm.”] A few nights ago I was passing down town in company with a bright and intelligent young man, who is a member of that profession whose watchful sagacity and keen perception is so constantly employed—that of detective. Our conversation turned upon the subject naturally suggested by his occupation, bank robberies, daring burglaries, and kindred topics, quite a fascinating one with his wonderful memory and brilliant description of incidents within hia own ex perience. I alluded to this, but he modestly disclaimed any merit ‘O pshaw!’ he replied, lightly, ‘yon should see and hear an old friend of mine down in the lower part of the city; his narratives would interest you, indeed. He is a perfect cyclopaedia of everything that is worth knowing or remembering of men and things in our line. He is an old French detective,’
My cariosity and interest was at once excited, so I said, ‘ Well, why may I not see and bear him ?’
‘ There is no reason in the world, sir j come with me now, or at any other time and you shall see and hear my old Alonzo.’
‘ *‘ A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” let’s go now by all means.’ ‘ Now it is ; he is a character sure, and, though he speaks quite broken, you can understand him pretty well after ha gets “warmed np.” ’ We provided ourselves with some excel lent cigars and wound our sinuous way along the streets, which grew narrower and more irregular at every turn. Finally, arriving at a little low frame house, dingy In appearance, and in a decidedly dingy neighbourhood, we stood upon the door atone while my companion gave two or three sharp raps upon tho old brass knocker. He was obliged to repeat it three times before the summons was answered, when a little dried np bent old man came to the door, opened it cautiously, and shielded the light with his hand to prevent its being extinguished by the draft. He instantly recognised his caller, and gave him a warm welcome. ‘ I have a friend with me to-night, Alonzo, whom 1 have told of your wonderful acquaintance with detective business and knowledge of the deeds and characters of famous cracksmen. ’
• Ah, my young friend, yon are too enthusiastic. I really know very little ; but yonr friend is welcome, and if ho can be Interested in what my poor memory may divulge I shall bo happy to entertain him.’ • Have no fears, monsieur, I am confident of being entertained and instructed.’ We were soon seated in a neat and rather cosy little sitting room before a cheerful grate. ‘Now, have one of these Victorias, my old friend,’ said my companion, offering cigars. ‘ No; many thanks. I used to enjoy them, but now my dear old pipe hero affords me abundant pleasure. Bight yonr cigars and I will fire up old Pierre,’ • That is a remarkable name for a pipe. Why do you call it Plerrie?’ I asked. • Well, it is a fancy partly, and partly for another reason. He is named after a once celebrated person. ’ ‘ Wei], but Pierre who ?’ I pursued. ' Pierre Poulallier.’ ‘ Who In the world was Pierrie Ponlailler ?’
* There it is again, Not know who Pierre Ponlailler was I And yet, why should yon ? My friend, ha was probably the boldest, moat adroit and successful robber that ever Infested that paradise of robbers —Paris.’ ‘ Ah ! yon excite my interest wonderfully, especially as my friend here and I have just been going over this subject, suggested by the great robbery on Sunday morning.’ ‘ Ves, yes, yea I that was a pretty little scheme, and quite worthy of the deeds of a Poulailler. ’
* Now, Alonzo, you must give us seme chapters from the life of this fierre, in relation to whom you have aroused our interest and imagination, ’ 4 With pleasure, my boys, ’ said the old man, as his eyes lighted np with the fire of youth, which it would seem must have long ago burned out, 4 When first the polioo became aware of the existence of such a person, he was, even then, a young man —a most dangerous one. The varied knowledge and acquirements of the youth—his courage, true as steel and always equal to the occasion, the prudence and foresight with which he meditated a coup de main, the inconceivable rapidity of his execution, his delio te and disinterested conduct toward his comrades — all contributed to render him famous in the famous sense, if you will, and to raise him to the first place 4 Germany was the scene of his first ex ploits. The world had condemned him to death, and ho condemned the world to subscribe to his living. At this period he had posted himself in ambush at the crest of a hill, whence his eye could command a great extant of country, and certainly the elegance of his mein, the gracefulness of his bearing and the splendor of his arms might be offered as an excuse for mistaking him for a different sort of person from what he really was. He was on the siie hill one day when two beautiful young women appeared in sight. He lost no time iu j lining them, and as youth is communicative, he soon learned in answer to bis questions, that, tired, of remaining in their traveling conveyance, they had determined to ascend the hill on foot.
'“You are before the carriage’ then, mademoiselle ?’
‘ “ Fes, sir ; can yon not hear I|})e whips of the postillions ?’ * The conversation toon became animated, and every moment a deeper impression was made into the heart of our handsome brigand, hut every moment also made the situation more critical. ‘ On the other side of the hill was the whole band ranged in order of battle and ready to pounce upon the travellers. Having ascertained the place of abode of his fair companions, and promised to avail himself of the first opportunity to pay his compliments to them there, he bade them adieu, and having gained a path out through the rock, known to but 'ew, ascended with the ngility of a chamois, to the party, whom he implored not to attack the carriage which was approaching. ‘ But if Pouiailler had his reasons for this chivalrous conduct, his bands were actuated by no such impulses—they saw only the jewels and coin that was likely to be divided among them —and received with no favor the propositions of their leader. Finding it useless to argue or persuade, he demanded their price for allowing safe passage of the vehicle and its Inmates. The sum was named and accepted, and the handsome daughters of Baron Von Stellwagen went their way full of the praises of the fascinating young stranger, little dreaming of the peril they had so narrowly escaped. ‘That very day, the dashing Pouiailler left his lieutenant in charge of his band, mounted his finest steed, and sped away to tho castle of his fair inamorata, where he introduced himself as the Count Petrnocl, of Sienna, whom he had lately robbed, and whose papers he had taken care to retain, with an eye to futnre business. His assumed named, backed by his stolen credentials, secured for him a favorable reception, and he well knew how to improve the occasion. An accomplished ilder, and bold in the chase, he at once found favor in the eyes of the baron; while his musical talents and polished manners made him equally welcome in tho drawing room. The fair Vrilhelmina surrendered at discretion—and the gallant knight of tbe road was enjoying the numberless pleasures of tho hospitable castle, when, with a turn of the wheel of fortune, which is never still, the true and genuine Count was p >pped upon the scene. It was no case repeated of the two Sostas, for no two pe r aons were over created more unlike than tho two who were now claiming tho same titles ; b t as soon, of course as the real personage saw the pretender, he instantly recognised him ns the robber who had relieved him of his valuables, as well as stolen his name.
‘ Things looked exceedingly bad for the gay young adventurer—most men wt uld have thrown up the game and disappeared, but not this heroic chap ; he boldly st ol up and denounced the new arrival as an imposter, and argued the case so ably and with such a display of righteous indignation at the audacity of the new comer, that the baron was staggered, and dispatched messengers to a, mercantile house in Florence to whom the true Petrucci was known.
* It was not to bo supposed that Ponlailler would wait for the answers which would convict him ; not he ; but that very night flitted—by moonlight—but not alone, poor Wilhdmina had cast her lot with her lover and fled with him.
‘We may conceive the oonfueion that reigned in the oastle the next morning and faintly imagine the stent German oaths that r.illed through its halls, but Wilhelmina and her bold b-igand were never seen there more.
* Ponlailler and his band now directed their “ enterprises ” in Paris, to the great loss and terror of tho honest people of the good oity. ‘Everyday M. Herault, tho lieutenant of police, was informed of now ca=es of robbery and often of violence, which none of us could t ither prevent or punish. Tho organisation of the band was so complete, and tho head so ably directed the hands, that neither life nor property was safe from one day to another. The adventures of this accomplished robber are so numerous and marvellous, that I hardly know how to make selection for yon, but I will give you one or two. * One evening, at the bal de Vopera, he made the acquaintance of a charming woman, who, at first all indignation, was at length Induced to listen to hia proposal to see her home { and moreover promised to admit him ‘•if Monseigneur should not bo there.” ‘ “ But who Is this Monaeignour 7 ’ in qulred Pierre. * “ Don’t ask,” replied the lady. ‘ ‘ • Oh, I really must know—” * “ Why, how persistent yon are ; you make me tell all my secrets. If yen must know, then, ho is a prince of the church, out of whoso revenue he supports me, and I can bnt show my gratitude to him.” ‘ “ Certainly not ; he seems to have claims that cannot be altogether ignored ” I By this time they had arrived at an elegant mansion, handsomely furnished, which they entered, madams having ascertained that the coast was clear, and Ponlailler had just began to make himself qnite at home when up drove a carriage containing—Monsiegnenr in person. The beauty, in a state of distraction and bewilderment, cast herself at the feet of the nndistnrbed brigand and implored him to fly—to secrete himself in an adjoining library. Ponlailler at once obeyed the latter suggestion, and from his hiding place saw tho dignitary enter ; he had gone to his Semole in all his apostolic magnificence. A largo and splendid cross of diamonds shot dazzling rays from hia breast, where it was suspended by a chain of cat's eyes, of great price, set in gold. The button and loop of his hat blazed with other precious stones, while his fingers sparkled with gems that su> passed in beauty those of the large cross. It Is seldom that the human heart has room for two grand passions at the same time. In this instance. Poulailler.no sooner beheld the riob and tempting sight, than he found that the god of love was pluming himself for immediate flight from bis bosom to make room for the demon of cupidity.. He was true to the ruling passion —flinging open the door he rushed from hia biding place and throw himself upon the bewildered and astounded prelate, with a poinard in one hand and a pistol in the other, both of which he held in unpleasant proximity to the diatingnished churchman. The bishop had not learned to be careless of life, and retained sufficient self-possession in his terror not to move, lest he shoal d compromise his safety, while Poulailler proceeded to strip him with a dexterity that practice had rendered well nigh perfect. Diamonds, precious stones, gold, coined and ornamental, rings, watch, snuff box and parse were transferred from priest to robber with marvelous celerity, then turning to the lady he made her open the casket which contained the price of her favors and left the house with such a shout of laughter as only those revel in who win. (To bf onntinued )
The following vessels for the Boyal Navy are to be built by contract at private yards:— Two composite gun vessels of 774 tons, and 760 horse-power, and three guns, to be named Dolphin and Wanderer ; and five gnnboats of smaller •’imensions and horse-power, to be named Albacore, Gossamer, Havoc, Mistletoe, and Watchful.
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Bibliographic details
Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2332, 23 September 1881, Page 4
Word Count
2,164LITERATURE. Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2332, 23 September 1881, Page 4
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