THE HOUSE OF WHITE SHADOWS

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2704, 7 December 1882, Page 4

THE HOUSE OF WHITE SHADOWS

BY B. L. FAKJEON. Author of “ Blades-o’-Grass,” “ Joshua Marvel,” “ Bread and Cheese and Kisses,” “ Grif,” “ London’s Heart,” &c., &c. (Continued.) “ I cannot help it. Master, put yourself here in this cell, as I am, without light, without hope, without a friend. You would need a strong nerve to stand it. You want to know if I can point out any one who could have done the deed but me ? Well, if I were free, and came face to him, I might. Not that I could say anything and swear to it, for I did not see it done. No, master, I will not lie to you. Where would be the use ? You would find me out for certain. But I had reason to suspect that the girl had other lovers besides me, some who pressed her hardly, I dare say ; some who were rich, while I was poor; some who were almost mad for her. When you go away from me ask if she was not followed by a dozen and more ? She told me so herself, but she never mentioned a name to me. She was close —that made it all the worse. You know something of women, master; they like the men to follow them—the best of them do, ladies as well as peasants. They were sent into the world to drive us to perdition. I was jealous of her; yes, I was jealous. Was that natural, and am I guilty because of that ? How could I help being jealous when I loved her ? It is in a man’s blood. Well, then—what more can I say ?” In his intent observance of Gautran’s speech and demeanor the Advocate seemed to weigh every word that fell from the man’s lips.

“At what time did you leave the girl on the last night you saw her alive ?” “ At ten o’clock.” “ She was alone at that hour ?” “ Yes.”

“ Did you see her again after that ?” “No.”

“ Did you have reason to suppose that she was to meet any other man ?” “If I had thought it, I should have stopped with her.” “ For what purpose ?” “To see the man she had appointed to meet,”

“ And having seen him ?” “He would have had to answer to me. I am hot-blooded, master, and can stand up for my rights.” “ Would you have harmed the girl ?” “ Have I not told you—l loved her ?”

“ Answer my question—would you have harmed the girl ?"

“ No, unless she drove me out of my senses.”

“ Were you in that state on the night of her death ?” “ No, I knew what I was about ?” “ You were heard to quarrel with her.” “ I don’t deny it.” “You were heard to say you would kill her.”

“ True enough. I told her if I ever found out she was false to me I would kill her.”

‘ And she bound herself to marry you?” “ She had sworn to marry me.” “ The handkerchief round her neck, when her body was found in the river, is proved to have been your’s.” “It was mine; I gave it to her. I had not much to give. “ When you were arrested you were searched ?” “ I was.” “ Was anything taken from you ?” “Yes, my knife.” “ Had you and the gild’s secret lover met on that night, you might have used your knife.’

“That is speaking beforehand. I can’t say what might have happened.” “ Strip yourself to the waist.” Gautran stared at the Advocate. “ What trick are you going to play me, master?” he asked with a frown.

“ Strip yourself to the waist,” repeated the Advocate, sternly. Gautran stood staring at the Advocate for full a minute in silence. Then, with an impatient movement, as though it could not matter one way or another, he did as he was ordered to do. His breast was covered with thick black hair; his back also. As the gaoler had said, he looked more like beast than man. “ Stand perfectly still,” said the Advocate.

Gautran obeyed, and the Advocate taking a powerful glass from his pocket, examined Gautran’s neck and shoulders and face with the utmost care and minuteness, Gautran wrapt in wonder at the strange proceeding. The examination occupied quite ten minutes, at the end of which the Advocate ordered the man to dress himself.

“ Since.your arrest,” said the Advocate, “ have you been examined, as I have examined you ?” “ No, master, it has not been done.” “Has any examination whatever been made of you by doctors, or gaolers, or lawyers ?” “None at all.” “ Do you value your liberty ?” “ Yes, master,” replied Gautran, with an eager flash in his eyes. “Let no person know what has passed between us, and do not repeat one word I have said to you.”

“ I understand, master; you may depend upon me. But, master,” after a pause, “ will you not tell me something more ? Am I to be set free or not ?”

“ You are to be tried. If you are innocent you will be a free man after your trial.”

“ Then I shall never chop wood again, for there is no other man but myself who can testify for mo, and who credits a word I say? No one; the gaolers say there is not a man or a woman in Switzerland who

■would believe mo on my oath. Everything is against me, and everybody—but you.” “ I am neither for you nor against you,” said the Advocate in a voice of stool. “What I have to deal with is the crime and the evidence. X have nothing more to say to you. What is brought against you at your trial will establish either your innocence or your guilt.” The Advocate knocked at the door of the prison cell, and the gaoler opened it for him and let him out. “ Well, Gautran,” said the gaoler. But Gautran, absorbed in contemplation of the door through which the Advocate had taken his departure, paid no attention to him. “Do you hear me ?” cried the gaoler, shaking his prisoner with no gentle hand. “ What do you want to know ?” asked Gautran. “Is the great lawyer going to defend you ?” “ You want to know too much, said Gautran, with a cunning look. “He and I understand each other.” And he refused to say another word on the subject. Later in the day he asked whether he could not have more light in his cell. “ You have light enough,” said the gaoler roughly. “Light! Light! Light!” moaned the wretch, hiding his eyes in his hands; but he could not shut out the spectre of the murdered girl, which from that moment never left him.

Chapter VI. THE ADVOCATE UNDERTAKES THE DEFENCE OP GAUTRAN. It was oh the evening of this day, the third since the arrival of the Advocate in Genova, that he said to his wife, over the dinner table, “ I shall probably he up the whole of tonight in my study. Do not let me be disturbed.” “ You come to the country for rest,” said his wife, petulantly, “ and you appear to be as hard at work as ever. I see very little of you, Edward.” “ I cannot live without work; aimless days would send me to my grave, but if you are lonely, Adelaide —” “ Oh, no, I am not,” she cried, vivaciously; her’s was an April nature. “ There is so much in the neighborhood that is interesting. Dionotta and Igo out a great deal while you are away, and Pool Fritz joins us sometimes ; he is very amusing, with his efforts to he wise.” “ Do not be too familiar with the people, Adelaide.” “ I know how to treat them, Edward. But they are really very respectful, and the children stare at me as if I were a picture.” ■

The Advocate looked up at this, and regarded his wife with full admiration. In his private life two influences were domi-nant-love for his wife and friendship for Arthur Balcombe. He had love for no other woman, and friendship for no other man, and his trust in both was a perfect trust. “ I do not wonder that the children stare at you,’ 1 ' he said. “ I believe they take me for a saint,” she said, laughing gaily ; “ and I am very far from being one, I assure you.” “ You are as we all are, human; and very beautiful, Adelaide.” “ It is not often you pay me compliments, Edward.” “ Do you need them ? I love you ; Is not that enough ? ” “ But I am fond of compliments.” “ I must commence a new study, then,” he said, gravely ; it was difficult for him to indulge in light themes for many minutes together. “So you are making yourself acquainted with the neighbors. I am afraid you will soon tire of them.” “ When I do, I will turn to something else. You have also found something that especially interests you.” “ Yes ; a criminal case in which there appears to be a great mystery. I do not trouble you with these law matters ; long ago you expressed weariness of such themes.”

But a mystery ! ” she exclaimed, with child-like pleasure ; “in a place where news is so scarce ! It must be delightful. What is it about ? There is a woman in it, of course.”

“ Yes; a young woman whose body was found in the Khone.” “ Murdered!”

“ Murdered, as it at present seems.”

“ The wretch ! Have they caught him ? —for of course it was a man who committed the dreadful deed.”

“ One is in prison, charged with the crime. I visited hqji to-day.” “ Are you going to defend him ?” “ Probably. I shall decide to-night.” “ But why, Edward, why ? If the man is guilty he must be punished.” “ And if he is not guilty he must not be made to suffer. He is poor and friendless ; it will be a relief to me to take up his case, should I see my way clear.” “Is he young —handsome?—and was it done through jealousy ?” “ I have told you, the case is shrouded in mystery. As for the man charged with the crime, he is common and repulsive-look-ing.” “ Amd you intend to defend such a creature.”

“ Most likely.” She shrugged her shoulders; she had no understanding of his motives, no sympathy with his labors, no pride in his victories.

When he retired to his study he did not immediately proceed to the investigation of the case of Gautran, as it was reported in the pile of newspapers that lay upon his table. He had given instructions for the collection of every newspaper in the country containing particulars and information relating to the principal persons concerned in the terrible event, and it was his purpose to employ the hours of the night in a careful study of these details, and also of the various opinions expressed by editors and correspondents. But he held his purpose back for awhile, and for nearly half an hour paced his study slowly in deep thought. Suddenly he went out and sought his wife’s private room. “ It did not occur to me before,” he said, “to tell you that a friend of Mr Balcombe —Mr Hartrich the banker —expressed to me his belief that Balcombe was suffering.” “ 111!” she cried, in an agitated tone. “In mind, not in body. Mr Hartrich did not succeed in infecting me with his fears, for I so thoroughly understand Balcombe’s sensitive spirit that I know it is impossible for him to live and not to suffer. You have received letters from him, I believe.” “ Oh, yes, three or four; the last a fortnight ago.” “ Have you his address ?” “ Yes —he is in Switzerland, you know.” “So Mr Hartrich informed me—in the the mountains, endeavoring to find peace of mind in silence and solitude. That is well enough for a few days, and intellectual men are always grateful for such a change ; but if it is prolonged there is a danger of its bringing disease of the mind of a serious and enduring nature upon a man brooding on his own fancies. I value Balcombe too ■highly to lose sight of him. Why should he not come and remain with us during our stay in his villa ? I had an idea that he himself would have proposed doing so.” “ He refrained, perhaps, from a feeling of delicacy,” said Adelaide; “asif it might be considered he had a right to be here.” “No,” said the Advocate, “it is not likely that Balcombe can be swayed by any but generous considerations ; he knows that I could not misunderstand him. If you have no objection, write to him to-night, and ask him to leave his solitude and make his home with us.”

“It rests with you, Edward; I have no objection.” “He will be company for you, and your bright and cheerful ways will do him good. You will need company presently, Adelaide, when the novelty of your new surroundings wears off. I am afraid,” child,” he said, with a regretful pathos in his voice, “ that my society affords you but poor enjoyment. Yet when you accepted my proposal, I never thought otherwise than that you loved me.”

“ I hope you do not think otherwise now,” she said, in a low tone. “ Why, no,” he said, with a bright look. “ What reason have I to do so ? We had time to study each other, and I did not present myself to you in a false light. But wo are forgetting Balcombe. Think a moment, Adelaide. Can you divine any special reason for unusual melancholy in him ?”

She seemed to consider, and answered, no, she could not imagine why ho should be melancholy. (To be continued on Monday.)