BY ORDER OF THE KING.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXII, Issue 154, 1 July 1901, Page 6

BY ORDER OF THE KING.

SHOBT STOBY (Complete.)

HIS FIKST DEATH WARRANT AND WHY IT WAS NOT SIGNED-

From the crest of a steep hill the royal castle looked down protectingly upon the little town that lay in the peaceful valley below. The royal standard floated from the topmost turret, by which sign the people in the valley knew that their young king waa amongst them. i'roin the capital he had retired to his country castle, there to pass the time of mourning for the lather whose eyes he had not been able to close, as the time of the old king's decease the young man had been absent in a foreign country. And now he wad desirous of preparing himself fittingly in quietness and seclusion for the burden which would thenceforth rest on his shoulders.

The young king was in his study, which was cooled and darkened by drawn blinds. The writing- table was covered with books and papers. A white haired man had just entered the apartment carrying a leathw covered roll.

"Why do yon carry such a grave countenance this morning'?" queried the king. In fact, the expression on the old man's face was very solemn. Looking steadily in the monarch's eyes, as if to read the impression made by the announcement, he said in softened tones: •'I have to submit the first death warrant for your majesty's approval and signature." The room was quite; no other sound than the ticking of the clock. The king leaned slowly back in his chair and sighed deeply. After a short pause he said: "Geheimrat, what are the facts of the case?" "In l » W as the answer, "there lived a locksmith, Johann Eichter by name, a clever workman and of irreproachable character. His wife was dead, and his only daughter, a girl of eighteen, kept house for him. At a country fair the girl made the acquaintance of a certain Werner Ziegler, son of the rich merchant Ziegler, of Bockburg, 'and a member of the firm."

The king" nodded and the geheimrat continued:

"Young Ziegler managed to meet the girl frequently, and there was an understanding between the two. A re-* gular correspondence was also kept up, of all .which the father was in ignorance. The girl afterwards declared that Ziegler promised to marry her, and explained that he would have married herat once, only he did not wish to excite his mother, who was ill. Ziegler denied that he made any such promise. The correspondence and the clandestine meetings went on for several months, until, in fact, the girl read the announcement of Ziegler's betrothal to the Baroness yon Immenthal. She was like one demented. She rushed to Ziegler's house and tried her utmost to obtain an interview. This was riot permitted, but a servant was sent out to her-with a sum of money which she scornfully cast at bis feet. The locksmith questioned his daughter and she made a full confession of her folly. The same evening her corpse was taken out of the river.

"Four weeks later the wedding of Ziegler was to take place in Eockburg. "When the carriage containing the bridal party drove up to church a big crowd of sightseers had gathered, waiting .for a glimpse of the bride and groom. The locksmith was one of the crowd, and, as was afterwards testified, stood very calm and collected just near the entrance to the church. The carriage rolled up, a footman opened the door, the bridal pair got out and were just about to enter the church when the locksmith pushed his ■way to the front and with a hammer which he had concealed under his jacket struck the bridegroom a blow that felled him to the ground, dead, his blood staining the bride's dress.

"As he struck the fatal blow the locksmith said, coolly: 'That's for my daughter.' Then, throwing the hammer away, he gave himself up. He also stated that he had perpetrated ■the deed after due deliberation and in cold blood. His only excuse was: 'The law of the lan-d could not help me against my child's murderer, so I took the matter into my own hands. You know the good book says: An eye for on eye; a tooth for a tooth."

"That was his whole defence, so, tinder the circumstances, there was nothing for the court to do but to convict him of wilful murder and pass the sentence of death. The sentence is laid before your majesty for approval-"

The geheimrat had spoken very quietly and without the slightest show of feeling, and as he finished he laid on the table before the king the fateful document.

His majesty still leaned back in his chair and stared steadily at the stuccoed ceiling. The ticking of the clock grew painfully loud. The sun had passed behind a heavy cloud. The {room grew darker, and a shadow seemed to lie over the eyes and the mind of the king.

"The first death sentence," he said to himself, sadly. "The power of life and death in my hands!"

At first he fairly trembled -with emotion, but recovering' himself, he looked at the geheimrat, -who sat motionless, and said:

"What is your opinion, on this matter, Helfinger?"

"Your majesty, lam a father. I have only one child and she is eighteen years old. She is dearer to me than the apple of mine eye, and . . ." the geheimrat's voice trembled.

"I understand. You mean that you could not be expected to give an unbiassed opinion that your heart would interfere with your head. I am much obliged to you for being so candid. Leave the document here with me. I must think the matter over seriously." Then, after a short pause, he added: "Is there anything else of importance?"

"Nothing pressing, your majesty."

"Then we'll leave everything else for the present. I am not in the humour to discuss any other question. I must settle this first."

Left alone, the king stepped to the window and hastily raised the marquise. Thunder clouds were, careering over the sky, rapidly blotting out the bright blue. The wind was rising quickly, and was sighing among the trees in the park. It caught the spray of the fountain, and dashed it aigainst the castle walls. But the king did not notice the brewing storm; he was blind to the picture before his eyes. Before his mind was the picture which the geheimrat had sketched—<the betrayed, bewildered girl; tie bridegroom slain at the very threshold of God's house; the ruthless avenger of the girl's sufferings, the obstinate, unrepentant father.

The iirst distant thunderclap announced the Hearing of the storm. The young king left the window, and slowly and sadly paced the suite of which the study formed a part. And, while his feet went noiselessly over the thick carpet, his soul was wrestling agunisedly to tind the just decision, the way in which to act aright. He had ascended the throne of his father with the determination to show neither fear nor favour, but to do right according to his lights, under all circumstances.

This was the first death sentence he had been called upon to sign, lie was aware that the people were anxiously awaiting his decision, and that they would judge him thereby. They were curious to learn whether he would allow the law to take its course, or use his prerogative, and

pardon. If he acquiesced in the execution of the murderer he would be stigmatised as cold hearted and bloodthirsty; if, on the other hand, he pardoned, his action might be construed iuto indifference with regard to crime.

After all, it would be better to confirm the sentence; he stepped slowly to the table on which lay the document. He dipped the pen in the ink and piepared to sign, at the same time mechanically running his eye over the paper. At that moment the first flash of lightning- illuminated the room, and, as it seemed to the king-, .almost struck the paper, as if seeking to destroy it. He laid down the pen, and again stepped to the window. The storm way raging in all its wild fury, and lor a moment the king, while watching- the flashing lightning and pouring rain, and listening to the reverberating thunder symphony, forgot, in the magnificent spectacle, the oppression of his soul.

Again he resumed his restless pacing1, his efforts to arrive at some decision. Again and again he reviewed the matter, for and against.

An old father and his only child, who was, as the geheimrat had said, dearer to him than the apple of his eye; the girl practically driven to death. And for that no reparation or satisfaction from the law. The deceiver happy and about to be married; the wretched girl dead; the old father left joyless and hopeless, without light in the world, and with no legal weapon to use against the deceived and murderer of his child.

On the other hand, was not the girl herself partly to blame for what had happened? She had corresponded with the man to her own undoing, and had, as long as possible, hidden everything from her father. Had not her own absolute willingness to walk into the trap, and her vanity at being loved by a rich man, turned her head, and caused her to offer quite as much encouragement as any rascal needed? Ought she not to have seen that honourable marriage, under the circumstances, could hardly be looked for?

Had Zeig-ler really driven her to death, or was it, rather,' her own despair. Who could decide that point? Clearly not her father, for he was an interested party. Yet he had, after cool reflection and in cold blood, made himself judge and avenger. The fatal blow he had, with fiendish mali ice, struck at the moment of the bridegroom's greatest happiness. One might have thought of pardon had the father consummated his revenge immediately after the dripping corpse of his daughter first met his anguished gaze. But he had nursed his vengeance for a whole month. Then again the locksmith's defence: "An eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth"; the logical conclusion of which was, "a life for a life." The king- breathed hard, and he quickened his pace, while his eyes were glued to the floor as he weighed the pros and cons. The storm had wasted its fury; the thunder already sounded faint in the distance; the light grew clearer, and little gleams of sunshine began to creep into the room. The king raised his head, and, as he saw a sunbeam, which had shot between two clouds, steal into the apartment, he prayed, in the anguish of his soul: "Give me some sign, some guidance, 0 thou Lord of life and death!"

"Justice!" said the king, and started at the sound of his own voice. Again he dipped his pen in the ink, and tried to steady his hand to sign the death warrant. But he could not overcome the restlessness which had such a grip on him, and again he put the pen down and moved over to the window, which he opened, so that a gentle breeze entered the room. The refreshing wind, the perfume of the flowers and the rustling of the leaves all urged him out of doors.

By the door where the sleepy lackey was lounging the king went into the open air. He took the thickly shaded avenue which led down into the town, and while strolling along wrapped in though, he heard a merry, silvery laugh which so cheered his heart that he stepped aside to find out whence the sound proceeded. As the park was always open to the public, it was nothing strange to find people there. Its shady alleys were popular resorts during the heat of the afternoon.

Behind a thick bush be saw a girl playing with a child. The latter was crowing gleefully, while the girl apparently was enjoying the fun quite as much as her charge. Shfe was clad in peasant costume, which lent a cheery air to the whole picture. She had an innocent Madonna face. And the king thought of the crying iniquity of leading such a one into wrong doing. He felt thankful that he had not signed the death warrant.

In his excitement he stepped forward, attracting the girl's attention. She blushed deeply and courtsied to the king; but as he had not wished to be recognised he stepped back into the' avenue.

He continued his walk and meditation, and the merry laughter followed him. The daughter of Johann Eichter must have been such a girl at first. For bodily murder the law

inflicted the punishment of death; but for soul slaying, what punishment? And yet was not the former crime, by comparison, small?

The king sank down on a bench in the shade, and thought of the easy lives of his subjects, who did not have the burden of such awful responsibilities as that which was oppressing him.

As he sat there deep in thought, a young man approached, evidently of the wealthy class. With an easy bow and "Permit me," he sat down on the bench. The king noticed the stranger's face, although handsome, was marked and marred by dissipation. The two entered into conversation, and presently liockburg was

mentioned. •'JJo you know Bockburg?" the king asked. "Why, certainly," was the reply. "I live there. It's my native town."

"It hasn't a very good reputation just now, 1 understand." "You mean ou account of the murder of young Zeigler. It did cause a lot of excitement. You sec the murdered man belonged to one of the best families of the place." "Did you happen to know Zeigleri "Oh, 'quite well; we were old chums, lie wa.s a lively beggar. He knew how to get enjoyment out ot life, and we had many a hot. old time together. It's a pity be should have lost his life in such a miser able way. it's to be hoped his murderer will get his due. 1 hear the death warrant is awaiting the king's signature. Surely he will be, compelled to sign it in justice to the family of the murdered man!"

"Do you think so?"

"Why"," answered the stranger, eyeing the king curiously, "of course! If such a coldblooded, deliberate murder were allowed to go unpunished it would practically amount to encouraging suicide and murder." "But don't you think the king ought to take into consideration the reason for the murder!"

" What reasons could there be wortli considering-? Simply because a man tells a girl he loves her and that sort of nonsense you surely don't think he deserves to have his brains knocked ed out with a hammer! He wasn't to blame because the little fool drowned herself. She was not the first, by any means, as I happen to know." The king felt his linger getting the better of him, and before he could gain sufficient mastery of himself to venture a remark, the stranger resumed with ai grin. "Why, bless me! You're a youngman yourself. You needn't play the innocent; you can't come that game over me! Now look here —I meet a pretty girl who pleases me; I toss her a few compliments, say a few nice things to her which means nothing; she takes them for pure gold, and gives me all the encouragement I want. Then I talk to her about wishing to marry her when circumstances will allow, and she is fool enough to swallow it. It's no fault of mine. Such things happen every day. If every girl threw herself in the water, and every fellow had his brains knocked out with a hammer, there would be no end to suicide and murder. There'd be hardly a girl left alive, or a youngman either."

It was evident that tho man was on a favourite subject, and the king was studying him too curiously and was too full of loathing to say anything, so the stranger continued. " As. a matter of fact, there is just such a girl about here somewhere. T have been on her track for several days. She's an awfully pretty wench, but a silly little fool who knows nothing-. I'm looking after her " With flaming eyes and almost choked with rage, the king spransr from the bench.

" You'll drop that chase and keep away from the girl, scoundrel!" he cried. The stranger also sprnng1 to his feet, and stepped towards the king- threateningly. " Who the devil are you," he asked insolently, " and by what right do you put on such airs?" The monarch threw ba«?k his shoulders, eyeing the other disdainfully.

"I am the king!" he sftid, coldly.

The stranger's attitude was transformed, as with bared head he stood before his majesty. The king- pointed to the park gate, and his hint was heeded; the fellow slunk away.

On his ivay back to the castle the monarch passed the place where the g-irl and the child were still playing. At least ho had been able to drive away one beast of prey who might have brought about her destruction.

Passing the sentries, he hurried to his study, where he. seized the death warrant of Johann Richter and tore it down the middle.

And then his soul had rest