THE NOVELIST

Observer, Volume 1, Issue 13, 11 December 1880, Page 114

THE NOVELIST

HUNTED DOWN.

A NOVEL,

By Adolphe Belot,

CHAPTER VI. (continued.)

At the moment 11 of our entry into his office, about 11 o'clock in the morning of the 2nd November, Sir Henry, standing with his elboAV resting on the mantel-piece, was conversing with a young lady in deep mourning, Avho was seated in an arm-chair. It Avas Eleanor Hardcastle, with Avhom he had had seyerval intervieAvs, and who Avas hoav present in obedience to his order. "Then," said he to her, "you have nothing neAV to report since yesterday ? " "No, sir." "Do not be afraid to tell me even things which may appear insignificant to you. In a criminal investigation it sometimes happens that a ray of light flashes out from a circumstance to Avhich no importance seems to attach. You have been courageous enough, I am told, to remain in your house in St. John's Wood, and you continue to live in the room where the murder Avas committed." "Yes, sir," cried Eleanor, "I Avill never, except at the last extremity, quit the house ■where Aye loved so Avell." And, as she spoke, heavy tears, long restrained, welled from her eyes. Since the day when Aye saAV her alighting so gaily from the Liverpool coach, Eleanor had greatly changed. Her face had groAvn longer, there were dark rings round her eyes, and a dull pallor had replaced the warm colour in her cheeks. Grief Avas ingrained, as it were, into her whole appearance. But she Avas so young, her features possessed so perfect a regularity, beneath her paleness there Avas still so much health and life, that she had lost nothing of her beauty, but, on the contrary, had gained one charm the more. The magistrate could not help contemplating her with interest for a moment; then, as he saAV her groAV calmer, he said — "I must crave your forgiveness for thus reviving your grief, but you can be of immense assistance to me in arriving at an end, to the attainment of Avhich hotli my duty and my inclination impel me." "Ah! yes," said Mrs. Hardcastle, quickly raising her head, "you Avill attain that end, Avill you not ? You will avenge my husband— we Avill avenge him together." " I hope so," Avas the reply, "but I must tell you that in my career, already a lengthy one, I have rarely met Avith a case so surrounded Avith mystery as this. All the threads which I think I have succeeded in joining break in my hands. 1 can only feel my Avay, and that Avith the greatest caution, for if it is annoying to the self-love of a magistrate, Avhose poAver is so wide, and whose resources are so great, to be compelled to give up the quest of a culprit, it is still more trying to his conscience to arrest an innocent man, even though he has to release him." "But, then," cried Eleanor, with animation, "the culprit Avill not be discovered. My husband commanded me to avenge him, and I would obey him ! " "And, I repeat, I wish to assist you. But Aye have yet to find the murderer, and I much fear Aye are not yet on his track." " NeA r ertheless, I read last evening in a newspaper that the assassin had been arrested." "The papers are misled, madame, or they mislead their readers for the purpose of appearing Avell informed. A man was, indeed, arrested yesterday by my orders, and he "will presently be brought before me. There is certain evidence against him which justifies his arrest, but this evidence is quite insufficient to bring about an absolute conviction in my mind. The proofs against him .are, as yet, rather moral than material. I Avill go farther, and confess that nearly all material proofs are Avanting. Here," added Sir Henry, taking several papers from his desk, "is a minute of proceedings drawn up by the Superintendent of Police ordered to arrest this person. From it his attitude does not seem to be that of a guilty man ; he appeared excessively astonished and surprised when the Ayarrant for his arrest Avas made known to him, and, if he is playing a part, it must be confesed that he is a good actor, seeing that he has succeeded in deceiving one of our sharpest officers. His lodging has, according to custom, been most carefully searched ; but the result, Avithout being entirely negative, has not furnished us with any conclusive proofs. I have now only to rely upon the examination for which I am preparing myself, and Avhich," said Sir Henry, looking at a clock on the mantelpiece, "AAdll take place at once." Eleanor understood that he wished her to go, and rose to take her leave ; but, before retiring, she ventured to ask the name of the accused. "Mr. Leopold BroAvnpath," replied Sir Henry; "I have already mentioned him to you by name, madame, and you have said that he is unknoAvn to you. The information Avhich you might have been able to give me in connection with him would have been very valuable." "No," replied Mrs. Hardcastle, after a momentary silence, devoted to a last appeal to her memory, " I do not think I have ever heard my husband mention this person, and yet, as his name left your lips, 1 suddenly experienced again the same sensation Avhich came over me on a previous occasion." "What sensation? What do you mean? Explain yourself, pray." ' ' That is just what I cannot do ; I do not understand the peculiar feeling myself. The day Avhen I heard, for the first time, the words, 'Leopold Brownpath,' it seemed to me that I turned pale, that my heart beat faster, and I wanted to see whether I Avas mistaken, or whether the same phenomenon would be reproduced, and so I asked you, in this instance, to say the name again, although I knew it, and it has been in my thoughts without intermission." " That is in no way extraordinary," observed

Sir Henry, "on very slight reflection. This Brownpath is the only person who is seriously compromised in this affair — of that you are aware, and his name naturally causes you some emotion." " Possibly so, sir. You requested me to impart all my impressions, and I have obeyed you." " I thank you for it, madame," replied the magistrate, as he escorted Eleanor to the door of his office, and, just as he was taking leave of her, he added, "Did you not tell me, in our last interview, that you had been assailed by a perfect crowd of persons, who come to your residence with offers of service ?" ' ' Alas ! yes, and their countenances are by no means reassuring as a rule. The majority pretend to belong to the police and to be directed to search my house." " In future, madame, you will only receive those who bear a written order from me. That will, at all events, secure respect for your grief, and will preclude your being a victim of either the inquisitive or the intriguing." "This very morning," said Eleanor, with her hand on the handle of the door, "an individual called who Avas persistent in his efforts to see me. But Mary, knowing that I was preparing for my visit here, refused to admit him. He left his name, and said he would call again." " And his name?" "Cooke, I think." "Cooke," said Sir Henry, as if trying to recollect something. "Ah ! I have it. If you take my advice you will see him. He is to all appearances an intelligent man, both active and zealous. He might, on occasion, be of great use to us, and he was yesterday recommended to my notice by the Commissioner of Police after a very pressingfashion." "I will see him," said Eleanor. After having bowed to the magistrate she was preparing to turn the handle of the door, when she perceived that some one was endeavouring to open it from the outside. She drew back, and the door opened to admit a little man of about iifty years of age. After having whispered a few words in the ear of Sir Henry, he proceeded to take his seat at the clerk's table in the office. " The arrival of the prisoner is announced," said Sir Henry. "Ah !" replied Eleanor, "I will go then." But coming to a sudden stop as she was going out, she again approached the magistrate with a determined air, and said, shortly, "I should like to see him." The dried-up little man, occupied at his table in mending a pen, raised his head quickly, as if he thought her speech a peculiar one. As for Sir Henry, less astonished than his registrar, by reason of the conversation he had just had with Mrs. Hardcastle, he looked attentively at Eleanor, and, doubtless satisfied with his examination, said — "Your request is not xinreasonable, madame." The little man, more and more surprised, made so brusque a movement with his penknife that, instead of mending his pen, lie marred his finger. During this episode Sir Henry, addressing Mrs. Hardcastle, resumed — "Have you courage, during the whole of this examination, to be silent and not betray, even by a gesture, your presence in my office ?" "Yes, sir ; 1 shall have courage enough." " Even if it should happen that Brownpath acknowledges himself the assassin of your husband?" "Yes ; I may, perhaps, expire from indignation, but I will die in silence," said Eleanor, with an Italian enthusiasm perfectly natural in her. Sir Henry made a sign to the little man, who glided towards him. We use the word ' 'glided" advisedly, in speaking of the clerk. He had a way of walking entirely his own ; his feet did not leave the floor, his legs did not lift themselves, his knees did not bend — he seemed to to make no use whatever of his joints. He advanced all together, just as a railway carriage glides over the rails. An excellent man, too, was this clerk on springs, Avho is still remembered at the police office. "It is all arranged, Trail, is it not?" said the magistrate, after an aside Avith the registrar, "It shall be done as you wish," Avas the solemn reply. Trail called an attendant and directed him to arrange in one of the corners of the office a screen which had been put aAvay in a closet. He then took Mrs. Hardcastle by the hand, with the utmost gallantry, and, without speaking a word or looking at her, still gliding over the floor, he led her behind the screen, seated her in an arm-chair, carefully closed the screen ronnd her, and returned to plant himself in his accustomed spot before the desk. These preparations Avere scarcely completed Avhen the prisoner Avas ushered into the office.

CHAPTEE VII,

Leopold Brownpath, as lie had been described by the gardener, in his examination, was a fair man, of commanding stature and exceptionally good address. At first sight he might have been taken for forty, but attentive scrutiny would show that he was but thirity-four or thirty-five, at most, and that wakeful nights, and fatigue of every description had aged him beyond his years. It must be confessed, moreover, that 'these signs of premature age, his somewhat lazy movements, his hair turning grey on the temples, and his used-up look, far from taking away from his physical appearance, lent an air of distinction and a peculiar charm to his features. His dress was simple, but elegant. No one was with him, orders having been given to the police, who brought him up for examination, to wait for him at the very office door. He bowed to the magistrate without any affectation, seated himself in accordance with an invitation conveyed to him, and, before any question could be put to him, commenced the proceedings by saymg in a rather harsh, though calm tone of voice— "May I ask, sir, why I was so tmceremoniously arrested yesterday, and for what reason I now find myself in your presence ?' " Sir," replied Sir Henry at once, "you are here to reply to such qiiestions as I shall have to put to you, and not to interrogate me, as is apparently your intention."

"It is but natural and right, nevertheless, that I should wish to ascertain of what offence or crime I stand accused. I have inquired in vain of the officers charged to arrest me — they refused to reply." "They "but did their duty," replied the magistrate firmly. "But what they were forbidden to disclose I am about to tell you, and, indeed, I should already have done so, had you not spoken first, in defiance of all the rules m force in this office." "I am ignorant of those rules, sir, and I am not accustomed to find myself here." " I congratulate you on that, and I hope you will not again have to appear before me. You are not accused of a mere delinquency," continued the magistrate after a pause, and looking fixedly at the prisoner, ' ' you are accused of a crime." "Ah ! really. What crime ? " "Of having'assassinated a young man called Maurice Hardcastle." Leopold Brownpath did not move a muscle on hearing this curt and precise charge, and as he addressed the magistrate his countenance betrayed no sign of emotion. "I must say," he remarked, "that I was far from expecting to be compromised in this affair, which, for several days past, has been talked about in my presence. Would it be indiscreet to ask," he continued, with perfect courtesy, and as if he were in a drawing-room, "what has led to my being suspected of this crime ? " "You will soon know that ; but now that your first curiosity is satisfied, let us proceed in order. Will you have the goodness to state your Christian name and surname ? " And, turning to the clerk, he added, "You can commence to write, Mr. Trail." "I am called Leopold Brownpath," replied the accused, turning towards the little man, at whom lie looked with interest. "Have you not been in the habit of bearing another name ?" observed the magistrate. "Certainly, sir; I have sometimes been called Monttord." "According to my information, you have no right to the appellation. Whence does it come to you ?" ' ' From some land which formerly belonged to my family." " That does not constitute a right. But let it pass. What is your age ?" " Thirty-six." " And your profession ?" "I have none." " How, then, do you live?" " Pretty well, thank you." " Excuse me," said Sir Henry with severity, "I cannot for a moment permit you to make use of that jocular tone in replying to me. If you are not yet as serious as befits your position as an accused person, I shall not hesitate to send you back to the prison, and to postpone the examination till some future day." Brownpath listened to this reprimand without movement or reply. " I ask you again," continued the magistrate, "what are your means of subsistence ?' "Sir," replied the prisoner, in a tone more serious and, indeed, quite free from levity, "if by means of subsistence you imply money in the funds, title-deeds of property, or private annuity, I must confess that I have none of them. Like many young men of the present age, I live from hand to mouth ; sometimeß rich, by accident — more often poor, from force of habit. Occasionally I do a good stroke of business on the 'Change, and occasionally the cards favour me. I have had 5000 at my disposal on the 10th of a month, and on the 15th have been without the means of paying my rent. All this is out-of-the-way and irregular, I know, but it is true, and, since you appear desirous of the truth, I have told you it." "A sad truth, which will not tell in your favour with a jury." "A jury !" said Brownpath, without being in the least moved by the word, which the magistrate had purposely used. " I trust I shall not appear before a jury. You cannot be long in recognising my entire innocence." "We will deal with that question by-and-by. At present I am going on with your examination. Had you not on one previous occasion, when barely twenty-five years of age, to appear in a court of justice ?" " Yes, in connection with a duel." " In which you killed your adversary ?" " That is true ; I had that misfortune, but I was acquitted." " The proceedings in that matter stamped you already as a profligate ?" "Ah, sir ! I was neither more nor less profligate than the young men with whom I lived, and who have since become men of honour, and steady withal. Some are physicians, others notaries, others magistrates. Ask them to tell you after what manner they lived between eighteen and twenty-five years of age, where they passed their evenings, what society they f reqiiented, and if they will speak out tliey will be as open to the reproach of profligacy as I am." "But you also had the reputation of being extremely violent ?" ' 'In that no mistake was made. Unfortunately for myself, I have ever been very violent." ' ' And you are not afraid of confessing it ? Such an admission is of great importance in connection with the matter now in hand." "How that can be I am at a loss to understand, seeing that I have nothing to do with the present case." "It was not only," he continued "on the occasion of the duel that you came into collision with the law. There is another affair— " "I was waiting for you to mention it, sir ; I am here only to reply to your questions ; you impressed that upon me, and I have not forgotten it." " You are right. Be good enough, then, _to tell me if you were ever mixed up in a gambling affair ?" "I was. The affair was, briefly, as follows : A young man lost sixty thousand francs at play, and, not being able to pay his creditors on the following day, accused them of having tampered with the cards ; in other words, of having robbed him. Not a very uncommon occurrence — unlucky players, instead of blaming fortune and, sometimes, their own stupid system of playing, prefer to bring charges against their adversaries and make themselves out the dvipe of roguery. This species of accusation spares them the neces-

sity of paying their gaming debts, and they have therefore every advantage in appearing irr the character of victims. In the case you mention, a complaint was lodged against a dozen individuals, of whom I happened to be oneWe were taken before the public prosecutor, and examined ; the cards supposed to have been tampered with were produced, and the result of the uproar was that our caluminator paid his debts in full to us after a lapse of six monthsinstead of on the day following his loss. It is but right to add that we requested him to send along with his bank notes a written apology for his conduct — a request with which he deemed it prudent to comply." Leopold Brownpath gave these details with such ease and indifference, in a tone so genial, and he appeared so thoroughly comfortable in his chair that the registrar himself, for a moment, forgot where he was, and, imagining himself in a drawing-room face to face with an agreeable talker, was surprised to find himself listening, instead of writing, as his duty was. Behind the screen nothing betrayed the presence of Mrs. Hardcastle. She maintained, as she had promised, the strictest silence. [To be continued.']