LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2333, 24 September 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

A CHAPTER OF DETECTIVE EXPERIENCE. [“Turf, Field, and Farm.”] {Concluded ) * Our lieutenant of police began to take the tremendous success ,of the daring depredator to heart, and in his despair at the In creasing audacity of the robber, caused it to be spread among his secret spies and most expert men that whosoever should bring Poulailler before him should be rewarded with one hundred pistoles In addition to promotion to a place worth two thousand livres a year. * One day cur chief, M. Herault, was seated in his apartments comfortably eating his breakfast, when the'Conut de Villenenve was announced.

‘This name was —perhaps is now—principally borne by two celebrated families of France. M. Herault rose and passed into hfa cabinet, where he beheld a personage of elegant appear: a e, dressed to perfection, who in a polite, business-like asked for a private interview. Orders were immediately issued that no one should enter until his bell was rnng, and a valet was placed In the corridor as sentinel to guard against any interruption. “‘Well, Monsieur le Compte, what may he the nature of your business ?” * “ Oh, a trifle ; merely a thousand pistoles which I am about to take from your strong box in lien of the hundred pistoles and the snug place yon have promised to him who should introduce to you Pelrre Poulailler. I am that individual, who will d'spatch you to the other world with this poisoned dagger if yon dare raise yoar voice or attempt to defend yourtelf. Nay, stir not; a scratch is mortal.’

• Having delivered himself of this startling address, he drew from his pocket some strong, fine whipcord, so arranged that it was but the work of an instant to throw it upon the chief and hind him tightly hand and foot.

* “ Not a sound, as you value your existence I’

* “ The robber proceeded to rifle the secretary and safe of the discomfited officer; when, having finished, he begged M. Heranlt not to trouble himself to show him out, and, bowing with great politeness, in a minute regained the street and his horse. There are some situations so completely confounding and so overwhelming that they paralyse the faculties for the time; and the magistrate found himself so overcome by his misfortune that instead of calling for aid, as he might have done, when the robber left him, he set to work with hla teeth in vain endeavors to disengage himself from the bonds which held him fast. An hour elapsed before any one ventured to disturb M. Herault, who was found in such a tempest of rage as can only be imagined at the daring act. * The loss of the money was the least part of the annoyance. A cloud of epigrams flow about,land the streets resounded with songs celebrating Poulaillei’s latest triumph and the defeat of the magistrate, who dared not for some time to go into society, where he was sure to find a laugh at his expense. Bat ready as were the good people of Paris with their ridicule, they were by no means at their ease. The depredations of Ponlailler increased in number and audacity, and people were actually afraid to venture into the streets after nightfall. Nobody felt safe. The Hotel de Brienne was guarded like a fortress, bat difficulty only added zest to Ponlailler. I will give you hla exploit here os a sample of his wonderful adroitness and persistency. * Into this hotel he was determined to penetrate, and when he had determined to do a thing in this line, no obstacle was recognised as insuperable. While the car. riago of the Princess of Lorraine was waiting at the opera, Ponlailler contrived to attach, under the outside of the bottom of the body, leather bands, which he secured in their places with screws, and while his associates were treating the coachman and footman at a cabaret near by, he slipped, unseen, under the carriage, there suspended himself by the straps, and depending npon the strength of his powerful wrists and arms, was carried Into the hotel under the very nose of the Swiss Cerberus: When the stable servants were all safe In their beds, Ponlailler quitted his painful hiding place, where the power and endurance of his muscles and sinews had been so 'severely tested, and monnted into the hay loft, where he remained concealed three nights and four days, sustaining himself on hard biscuit and a flask of water, which he had put into hla pockets for the siege. No one loved good cheer better than he, nor indulged oftener in the pleasures of snmptnous living, but ho made himself a slave to nothing, except the inordinate desire for other men’s property; so he patiently contented himself with what was necessary to keep body and soul together till he was enabled to make bis grand cou . *At last Madame de Erienne went in all her glory to the Princess de Marsan’s ball, and nearly all the servants of the establishment took advantage of her absence to go on a lark themselves.

* Ponlailler then descended from the hay loft, made bis way to the noble dame’s cabinet, forced her secretare, and possessed himself of two thousand lonia d’or and a portfolio, which he doubtless wished to examine at his ease ; for, two days afterward, he sent it hack (finding it famished with snch articles only as he coaid not negotiate with safety), and accompaniedgwlth a polite note signed with his name, in which he begged the princes? graciously to accept the apologies of one who, had he not been sorely pressed for the small sum which he had ventured to take, would never have thought of depriving the illustrious lady of it; adding that when he was again in funds to admit of it he would be delighted to lend her double or treble the amonnt, should her necessities demand it. This iupndent note was landed as a marvel of good taste at Versailles, where, for a whole week, every one talked of the consummate cleverness and exquisite gallantry of the Chevalier dc Ponlailler, This title of honor, carelessly applied, stuck to him, and his growing fame seemed to inspire him with new ardor and to more desperate deeds. It is getting late, mes garcons, and yon do not care to hear how neatly he retaliated upon the dean of a well known noble Belgian chapter for somo decidedly uncomplimentary remarks of the latter.’ * Do not stop, good friend, U yon yourself are not wearied, for we certainly are not; go on. do!

‘ Well, I will gratify you. Yon see, our hero, Foulailler, was led by business to take a journey to Camhray, and happened to have for his travelling companion the dignitary above named. The conversation turned 'on the notorieties of the day, and Ponlailler was a more interesting theme than the weather. The good dean denounced in the roundest terms the bold brigand, and scored the police in as unmeasured volubility for allowing so dangerous a miscreant to run at large. He denied the brigand the least merit, but in the harshest terms gave his unbiased opinion of the man, whom he little suspected was his only auditor. Foulailler grimly smiled in his corner of the carriage, and his brain was busy devising something Interesting as a diversion, by which to get oven with the dean.

* The journey passed off without anything remarkable having occurred ; but, about a month alter this colloquy M. Heranlt re ceived a letter, informing him that on the previous evening M. de Pottu, chanoinedoyen of the noble chapter of Brussels, had been robbed and murdered by Ponlailler, who, clad in the clothes of his victim, and furnished with his papers, would enter the barrier St. Martin. This letter purported to have been written by one of his accomplices, who bad determined to denounce him in the hope of obtaining pardon himself. • The horror of M. Heranlt at the dreadful intelligence oi the death of the dignified ecclesiastic, who, however, was personally unknown to him, was, if the truth must be told, greatly modified by the thought that the desperate outlaw was at last to be within his grasp. A cloud of police officers hovered at each of the barriers, closely ambushed, and in larger force at that particular one indicated in the note to M. Herault, ready to seize the bold desecrator of the holy robes. Towards evening the Lille coach arrived, was snrronnded and escorted to the Hotel des Messageries, and at the moment when the passengers descended the officers pounced npon the person whose appearance and vestments corresponded with their instructions. The resistance made by thir personage only increased their zeal, and in spite of his remonstrances and cries, carried him to the hotel de police, where M. Heranlt had the proofs

of the prisoners’ crimes. A number of the friends of the Dean were there, anxious to see the murderer of their venerable churchman, whose loss they were deploring ; but what was their joy, and it must be added, the grievous disappointment of Herault, when the supposed criminal turned out to bo no other than the good Dean de Pottu himself, safe and sound, but furiously indignant at the outrage that had been committed upon him. Though a man of peace, his ire so far ruffled a generally quiet temper that he could not help asking M. Herault whether he or Poulailler (from whom a second letter had now arrived, full of taunting sarcasms), was the Chief Director of the police 1 * Poulailler was arrested no less than five times, and as often did he make his escape. Like Jack Sheppard and Claude Duval, he more than once owed his safety to frail fair friends, who would have dared anything for their fovorite.

‘He was finally, however, entrapped by the daughter of Von Stelwagen, whom he so cruelly wronged, delivered over to the police, and sentenced to the torture of the wheel.

‘So that is all I shall give you now of Poulailler, after whom I named this old black pipe.’ * A thousand thanks, kind old Alonzo, for your entertainment.’ ‘ Oome again, mon garcon, and I may give yon another chapter of detective history in the gay French capital.’ Bidding our old friend good night, we lighted fresh cigars and took our departure. Fkank Hey wood.