classic mystery and detective stories-第68章

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her　lover's　house。　　Nor；　indeed；　had　she　ever　met　anyone　in　the

course　of　these　visits。



On　the　fatal　night　Lieschen　was　expected　at　the　cottage。　　Mother

and　son　waited　at　first　hopefully；　then　anxiously；　at　last　with

some　vague　uneasiness　at　her　non…appearance。　　It　was　now　a　quarter

past　elevennearly　an　hour　later　than　her　usual　time。　　They

occasionally　went　to　the　door　to　look　for　her；　then　they　walked　a

few　yards　down　the　road；　as　if　to　catch　an　earlier　glimpse　of　her

advancing　steps。　　But　in　vain。　　The　half…hour　struck。　　They　came

back　into　the　cottage；　discussing　the　various　probabilities　of

delay。　　Three…quarters　struck。　　Perhaps　she　had　been　detected；

perhaps　she　was　ill；　perhapsbut　this　was　his　mother's　suggestion；

and　took　little　hold　of　himthere　had　been　visitors　who　had　stayed

later　than　usual；　and　Lieschen；　finding　the　night　so　advanced；　had

postponed　her　visit　to　the　morrow。　　Franz；　who　interpreted

Lieschen's　feelings　by　his　own；　was　assured　that　no　postponement　of

a　voluntary　kind　was　credible　of　her。　　Twelve　o'clock　struck。

Again　Franz　went　out　into　the　road；　and　walked　nearly　up　to　the

archway；　he　returned　with　heavy　sadness　and　foreboding　at　his

heart；　reluctantly　admitting　that　now　all　hope　of　seeing　her　that

night　was　over。　　That　night？　　Poor　sorrowing　heart；　the　night　was

to　be　eternal！　　The　anguish　of　the　desolate　〃never　more〃　was

awaiting　him。



There　is　something　intensely　pathetic　in　being　thus；　as　it　were；

spectators　of　a　tragic　drama　which　is　being　acted　on　two　separate

stages　at　oncethe　dreadful　link　of　connection；　which　is　unseen　to

the　separate　actors；　being　only　too　vividly　seen　by　the　spectators。

It　was　with　some　interest　that　I；　who　believed　in　Kerkel's

innocence；　heard　this　story；　and　in　imagination　followed　its

unfolding　stage。　　He　went　to　bed；　not；　as　may　be　expected；　to

sleep；　tossing　restlessly　in　feverish　agitation；　conjuring　up　many

imaginary　terrorsbut　all　of　them　trifles　compared　with　the　dread

reality　which　he　was　so　soon　to　face。　　He　pictured　her　weepingand

she　was　lying　dead　on　the　cold　pavement　of　the　dark　archway。　　He

saw　her　in　agitated　eloquence　pleading　with　offended　parentsand

she　was　removed　for　ever　from　all　agitations；　with　the　peace　of

death　upon　her　young　face。



At　an　early　hour　he　started；　that　he　might　put　an　end　to　his

suspense。　　He　had　not　yet　reached　the　archway　before　the　shattering

news　burst　upon　him。　　From　that　moment　he　remembered　nothing。　　But

his　mother　described　his　ghastly　agitation；　as；　throwing　himself

upon　her　neck；　he　told　her；　through　dreadful　sobs；　the　calamity

which　had　fallen。　　She　did　her　best　to　comfort　him；　but　he　grew

wilder　and　wilder；　and　rolled　upon　the　ground　in　the　agony　of　an

immeasurable　despair。　　She　trembled　for　his　reason　and　his　life。

And　when　the　messengers　came　to　seek　him；　she　spoke　but　the　simple

truth　in　saying　that　he　was　like　one　distracted。　　Yet　no　sooner　had

a　glimpse　of　light　dawned　on　him　that　some　vague　suspicion　rested

on　him　in　reference　to　the　murder；　than　he　started　up；　flung　away

his　agitation；　and；　with　a　calmness　which　was　awful；　answered　every

question；　and　seemed　nerved　for　every　trial。　　From　that　moment　not

a　sob　escaped　him　until；　in　the　narrative　of　the　night's　events；　he

came　to　that　part　which　told　of　the　sudden　disclosure　of　his

bereavement。　　And　the　simple；　straightforward　manner　in　which　he

told　this　tale；　with　a　face　entirely　bloodless；　and　eyes　that

seemed　to　have　withdrawn　all　their　light　inwards；　made　a　great

impression　on　the　audience；　which　was　heightened　into　sympathy　when

the　final　sob；　breaking　through　the　forced　calmness；　told　of　the

agony　which　was　eating　its　fiery　way　through　the　heart。



The　story　was　not　only　plausible　in　itself；　but　accurately　tallied

with　what　before　had　seemed　like　the　criminating　evidence　of　the

maid；　tallied；　moreover；　precisely　as　to　time；　which　would　hardly

have　been　the　case　had　the　story　been　an　invention。　　As　to　the

waistcoat　which　had　figured　so　conspicuously　in　all　the　rumors；　it

appeared　that　suspicion　had　monstrously　exaggerated　the　facts。

Instead　of　a　waistcoat　plashed　with　bloodas　popular　imagination

pictured　itit　was　a　gray　waistcoat；　with　one　spot　and　a　slight

smear　of　blood；　which　admitted　of　a　very　simple　explanation。　　Three

days　before；　Franz　had　cut　his　left　hand　in　cutting　some　bread；　and

to　this　the　maid　testified；　because　she　was　present　when　the

accident　occurred。　　He　had　not　noticed　that　his　waistcoat　was

marked　by　it　until　the　next　day；　and　had　forgotten　to　wash　out　the

stains。



People　outside　shook　skeptical　heads　at　this　story　of　the　cut　hand。

The　bloody　waistcoat　was　not　to　be　disposed　of　in　that　easy　way。

It　had　fixed　itself　too　strongly　in　their　imagination。　　Indeed；　my

belief　is　that　even　could　they　have　seen　the　waistcoat；　its

insignificant　marks　would　have　appeared　murderous　patches　to　their

eyes。　　I　had　seen　it；　and　my　report　was　listened　to　with　ill…

concealed　disbelief；　when　not　with　open　protestation。　　And　when

Kerkel　was　discharged　as　free　from　all　suspicion；　there　was　a　low

growl　of　disappointed　wrath　heard　from　numerous　groups。



This　may　sympathetically　be　understood　by　whomsoever　remembers　the

painful　uneasiness　of　the　mind　under　a　great　stress　of　excitement

with　no　definite　issue。　　The　lust　for　a　vengeance；　demanded　by　the

aroused　sensibilities　of　compassion；　makes　men　credulous　in　their

impatience；　they　easily　believe　anyone　is　guilty；　because　they　feel

an　imperious　need　for　fastening　the　guilt　upon　some　definite　head。

Few　verdicts　of　〃Not　Guilty〃　are　well　received；　unless　another

victim　is　at　hand　upon　whom　the　verdict　of　guilty　is　likely　to

fall。　　It　was　demonstrable　to　all　judicial　minds　that　Kerkel　was

wholly；　pathetically　innocent。　　In　a　few　days　this　gradually　became

clear　to　the　majority；　but　at　first　it　was　resisted　as　an　attempt

to　balk　justice；　and　to　the　last　there　were　some　obstinate

doubters；　who　shook　their　heads　mysteriously；　and　said；　with　a

certain　incisiveness；　〃Somebody　must　have　done　it；　I　should　very

much　like　to　know　who。〃



Suspicion　once　more　was　drifting　aimlessly。　　None　had　pointed　in

any　new　direction。　　No　mention　of　anyone　whom　I　could　identify　with

the　stranger　had　yet　been　made；　but；　although　silent　on　the

subject；　I　kept　firm　in　my　conviction；　and　I　sometimes　laughed　at


the　pertinacity　with　which　I　scrutinized　the　face　of　every　man　I

met；　if　he　happened　to　have　a　black　beard；　and　as　black　beards　are

excessively　common；　my　curiosity；　though　never　gratified；　was　never

allowed　repose。



Meanwhile　Lieschen's　funeral　had　been　emphatically　a　public

mourning。　　Nay；　so　great　was　the　emotion；　that　it　almost　deadened

the　interest　which　otherwise　would　have　been　so　powerful；　in　the

news　now　daily　reaching　us　from　Paris。　　Blood　had　flowed　upon　her

streetsin　consequence　of　that　pistol…shot；　which；　either　by

accident　or　criminal　intent；　had　converted　the　demonstration　before

the　hotel　of　the　Minister　of　Foreign　Affairs　into　an　insurrection。

Paris　had　risen；　barricades　were　erected。　　The　troops　were　under

arms。　　This　was　agitating　news。



Such　is　the　solidarity　of　all　European　nations；　and　so　quick　are

all　to　vibrate　in　unison　with　the　vibrations　of　each；　that　events

like　those　transacted　in　Paris　necessarily　stirred　every　city；　no

matter　how　remote；　nor　politically　how　secure。　　And　it　says　much

for　the　intense　interest　excited　by　the　Lehfeldt　tragedy　that

Nuremberg　was　capable　of　sustaining　that　interest　even　amid　the

tremendous　pressure　of　the　February　Revolution。　　It　is　true　that

Nuremberg　is　at　all　times　somewhat　sequestered　from　the　great

movements　of　the　day；　following　slowly　in　the　rear　of　great　waves；

it　is　true；　moreover；　that　some　politicians　showed　remarkable

eagerness　in　canvassing　the　characters　and　hopes　of　Louis　Philippe

and　Guizot；　but　although　such　events　would　at　another　period　have

formed　the　universal　interes