ART AND LITERATURE

Wellington Independent, Volume I, Issue 25, 25 June 1845, Page 4

ART AND LITERATURE

THE DEAD MAN OF ST. ANNE'S CHAPEL. A CRIMINAL STORY.

Part I. The Search

(Continued from our la»t.J

In September he received a letter from Senkenberg, ' I have a novelty in its way to communicate to you, the advocate wrote, ' in regard to our painful enquiry. Our well-known glove has found its fellow—the left. It resembles the blood-spotted one as one twin does another; the stamp is the same, though the stamp is more legibly impressed. The name i 3 Tieffe. It is generally supposed to be the name of the maker; but it has led to what I have now in a few words to communicate.

'In the course of his enquiries the police agent had occasion to exhibit the right hand glove to a milliner here —Madame Lax; one of her customers, a lady—Madame Zeltwach —who had seen the glove in her possession, and had learned that it formed the subject of some enquiry by the police, took it up and examined it. Madame Lax must, in the course of conversation, have mentioned my name; for, two or three days afterwards, Madame Zeltwach waited upon me, and presented me with its counterpart, the left hand glove. She is intimate, it seems, with the family of the Protestant clergyman in Blumenrode, about three leagues from hence. On a late visit there with her daughters, and in the course of some cabinet council among the young ladies as to matters of dress, the second daughter of the clergyman happened accidentally to pull out from her drawer this left hand glove;—there was some jesting as to the name, Wilhelmine Tieffe. The name had struck Madame Zeltwach, so that she had immediately recollected the inaident when the right hand glove was shown to her by Madame Lax. She had since pressed the clergyman's daughter for an explanation how she came by it. Her account is, that she had received it from the waiting-woman of a lady who had been on a visit to the baronial family in the neighbourhood the summer before. ' This took place yesterday. To-day the clergyman—his name is Rauch —with his daughter Adelaide, appeared before me. They were both anxious and distressed at the idea that they might be suspected of any unfair acquisition of the unfortunate glove. I begged the girl to tell me in the minutest manner how she came by it. She told me, with perfect simplicity, that she had it from a third party. A young widow from the capital, a Madame Sussfeld, had been long on a visit at the house of Baron Kettler, in the immediate neighbourhood of the parsonage: Adelaide, who had a turn for music, had occa> sionally played with the lady, and had formed an acquaintance wilh her waiting-woman. On Madame Sussfeld's departure, Adelaide had assisted the attendant in some of her preparations: in a small dressing-box, among other odds and ends, lay this new glove, which the -waitingwoman, not thinking it worth while to take with her, as its fellow was wanting, had thrown upon the floor. Adelaide, pleased with the fineness of the work, had taken it up, and said, in jest, she would keep it as a remembrance—which she had done. '1 am inclined to believe the story, both because Mademo'selle Rauch is a girl of good character, and also because some things led me to the conclusion that your unfortunate brother had some connection with Blumenrode. 'Under the aprocryphal French letter found at X , you well remember the letters Bl , and an A. Strangely enough, however, the Christain name of the waiting-woman, to whom the glove belonged, was Agatha, her surname Roger. An A and a French name. She is described to me as tall and slender, (Adelaide is neither.) As to the lady, I have learned nothing more than that she was a young widow, .of high connexions, and resident at court. ' You have often manifested, in this melancholy investigation, a penetration which I readily acknowledge : you are possessed of information as to your brother's course of life, with which I am but imperfectly acquainted. Possibly you may find the clue where to me the connecting links are awanting. , Preussach laid down the letter with indifference. 'Strange!' he could not help saying, 'that the cautious Senkenberg should attach such weight to this discovery. If the stamp be but the signature of the firm, how many hundreds of such gloves, exactly resembling each other, must be now in circulation through the world! _ 1 shall write him to that effect, after I have paid my last visit at the colonel's, on the subject of this wearisome succession question.'

Part 11. The Suspicion

Ferdinand paid his visit. On this occasion Albertine's mother was alone. The conversation turned on Hermann's death, and the discovery of the body, of which she now learned the details for the first time. ' Your brother, then,' she said, ' is buried where he met with his melancholy end?' ' He is. He rests in the church-yard of the village of Hoffstede, not far from Hilgenberg!' 'Hilgenberg! If Albertine had suspected this! How near she was —at that very time— to the scene of this atrocity !' 'How; was your daughter then in Hilgenberg?' ' She was on a visit to the family of Baron Kettler, at the estate of Blumenrode; from ■whence she often visited Hilgenberg. , 'Blumenrode!' repeated Preussach thoughtfully. A thought began to arise in his mind, to which he felt reluctant to give admission. ' Albertine!—a third A!—and this time perhaps the right one. , He saw tKiat his absence of mind attracted the lady's attention, and took his leave as soon as he couid find an opportunity. He returned to his lodgings j he read over

Senkenberg's letter again ; a new light seemed to flash upon him. The billet of 21st July, the glove, were Albertine's. She was the wounded lady at the bath-house; her appearance corresponded sufficiently with the well-remembered description given by the witness. Madame Sussfeld—ra young widow ; —this also admitted of explanation. The separated wife might prefer appearing among strangers in the character of a widow; the name might be mistaken, as has already been the case with that of the leading sufferer in the tragedy.—Siegfeld was the real name. The colonel, in the first vehemence of his indignation against the family of Preussach, had insisted, as he knew, on his daughter's resumption of her family name; and though, from both the married parties, being Catholic, he cold not effect a dissolution "of the marriage, Albertine in private circles, even in the capital, bore the name of Madame Siegfeld. The extraordinary reception he had met with was now accounted for. It was the fear of discovery, the feeling of conscious guilt, which had overpowered her presence of mind. The suspicion, once fairly admitted into his mind, he pondered day and night how to put the proofs into such a shape as to induce the authorities to proceed against his sister-in-law as an accomplice in the assassination of her husband. Agatha Roger, the waiting-woman, he had known before; but she had left the Siegfeld family, and he was afraid of exciting the suspicions of Albertine by venturing on any enquiry after her parent residence. At last lie resolved on having a conversation with Albertine, in hopes that, during the interview, something might occur which would bring the matter more distinctly to a point. He found both the ladies at home; and introduced the subject of the investigation which was going on as to the circumstances and the author of Herman's death. Albertine listened, with evident interest, but without embarrassment. Preussach turned suddenly to his sister-in-law. 'You are acquainted, I believe, with the family of the Baron yon Kettler of Blumenrode.' Albertine answered in the affirmative. ' You are perhaps acquainted, then, with the daughter of the Protestant clergyman there?' ' The clergyman has several daughters. , ' I mean the second, named Adelaide.' ' I know her well: what ot' her.?' Preussach hesitated; he was in some confusion. He secretly wished that he possessed that penetrating glance for which Senkenberg had given him credit : he felt how difficult it was to steer his way, but he resolved to venture. ■ ' I would willingly, , he resumed, after apause, ' learn some particulars as to that girl. She is involved, in a very peculiar manner, in this investigation ; the police have discovered ' ' For the love of Heaven what?' exclaimed Albertine —'The poor unfoitunate girl! .She is innocent, wholly innocent!' She trembled as she uttered these words; every drop of blood had vanished from her cheeks; her mother hurried to her side, thinking she was about to faint. By a strong effort she regained her composure. ' 0 mother!' she exclaimed, 'is it possible ? I must hence. I must —I can save the unfortunate.' Her mother rang „ a female attendant entered. Albertine was conducted to her room. At that momeut the colonel entered. He stood in silence opposite to Ferdinand. ' Another scene!' he muttered to himself. Preussach clasped his hand. ' You blame me, colonel; but, by heavens'— ' Nay, I blame you not; but you are not acquainted with the irritable nerves of females. One thing only I beg of you : avoid such scenes during the rest of your stay—we have had enough already.' ' Enough indeed, , said Preussach. ' I take my leave, colonel. I regret the pain 1 have been I he means of causing. I regrat it more than you can believe. , He took his leave; but in the capital he could rest no longer. ' What need of further wit- i nesses? he said to himself. ' Albertine under- | dertakes to prove Adelaide's innocence; who can do that but one who knows the real perpetrator of the crime? , He wrots to Senkenberg. ' You praised my penetration, because from a woman's glove I inferred the presence of a woman's hand. You shall hear more. You found the second glove, I have found the hand that fits it. Stop all further proceedings against the clergyman's daughter ; let there be no further disturbance made in Blumenrode. In eight days at the farthest I shall be with you.' On mature consideration, Preussach thought I it desirable to ascertain to what resolution Albertine had come to: he was therefore glad to receive a message that she would wish to see him before his departure. She received him with composure; and pressed him earnestly to explain what had occurred to attach suspicion ! to Adelaide. Preussach dexterously evaded the desired explanation till he should discover how ■ far she was acquainted with the state of the proceedings. Perceiving her entire ignorance, he spake in dark and doubtful language; told her his advocate wrote vaguely and indefinitely on the subject;—-this much only was certain, that grievous suspicions rested on the girl. Albertine instantly announced her resolution of repairing in person to Hamburg, in order to save the unfortunate Adelaide. Her testimony and that of the Kettler family would be sufficient, she thought, for that purpose. A written interposition, which her mother at first proposed appeared to her insufficient. Of this her mother was how convinced, and would accompany her on her long journey. Preussach encouraged the ladies in their determination. Nothing could suit better with his plans. Once within the sphere of the tribunal of investigation, Albertine would be more easily reached than under the protection of her paternal manson. In the provinces, too, the fofms of the French law prevailed, while in the capital the old German forms were still in use. All his efforts were directed to this end. He advised Albertine to address herself at once to the Ober Procurator, and to offer every explanation she might have to afford,—generally, and without specifying the person to whose justification these explanations were directed. The colonel now communicated to him the final result of his negotiations, at Court with re-

Ferdinand orAis father's death, wasto ,U .refer; red to the Court of Appeal at X—, as jne eu preme tribunal of the province in which, HerSn had last resided; with the decision of that cTurt the reigning prince would not interfere. Such being the case, Ferdinand, with his usual prudence, deemed it advisable to be on the spot. S passed through Hamburg .where be had an interview with Senkenberg, who was» not a 1 trie confounded at the nature of his verbal commanications; and directing him to write to hurras soon as any thing deserving of attention should occur, he made the best of Ins way to Jv • Shortly afterwards arrived a packet from Senkenberg. . i r ' I have learned some particulars from a servant in Blumenrode, which seem to connect with those spoken by the Swiss boy, the bathkeeper, and his wife. They remember that the 24th of August was a Saturday. It was the day on which the families of the gentry in tho neighbourhood used to hold their weekly assembly in Hilgenberg; on that day the family of Kettler was not there, but Madame Siegfeld was. She had gone in company with th Countess of Koss and her daughters,; my informant had accompanied them. In Hilgenberg, Madame Siegfeld had been called away from her party early in the forenoon, and had only rejoined them toward evening. What took place during these hours of absence ? The families of Blumenrode and Langsitz could say much; but will they T ' Should you think of pursuing your investigations personally in those quarters, let me hint to you that with the Kettiers you need not expect a favourable reception. Like others, they have no suspicion as yet that the murdered officer, as they thought him, was the husband of their guest. But the name of Preussach is not unknown to them ; and, from the representaliens of your sister-in-law, doubtless not favourably known to them. This demands caution. In Langsitz your chance is better. The estate is for sale; many intending purchasers have already visited it; this is in itself a sufficient introduction. If you gain admittance, enquire into every particular of that eventful Saturday. If the story of the wound be true, it could not have escaped the notice of the ladies. At least 3'ou will learn whether Madame Siegfeld was dressed that day as the bath-keeper's wife describes; ladies have a good memory for such matters. Note carefully the minutest particulars. . So far the advocate. Let us now see how his client acted upon these hints. In Blumenrode, as Senkenberg had foreseen, his reception was so discouraging as at once to convince him that this was no time to enter upon the desired investigation. In Langsitz it was very different. The countess was delighted with the admiration which Baron yon Preussach expressed fur the estate; the curate of the village, who acted as a sort of steward to the countess, won by Ins insinuating manner, invited him to retmiu a day or two at the parsonage, to enable him to examine its beauties at leisure: he was soon established as a daily visiter at the castle. The old countess was talkative; the three young ladies, Aurelia, Matilda, and Elizabeth, full of life, playfulness, and spirit. Ferdinand, a man of tact, and well acquainted with society, s;;on contrived to turn the conversation on their neighbours of Blumenrode— their guest Madame Siegfeld, and her visit to Hilgenberg. 'It was in the forenoon, , the ladies,said, 'that Madame Siegfeld was called out of the room at Hilgenberg, and received from a girl in a peasant's dress a letter, which she put into the hands of the countess for her perusal. It was an invitation from some old acquaintance, a Pole or Russian, —ihe name they remembered distinctly, Madame Seehausen, —urgently pressing her to pay her a visit, as she was then in Hilgenberg. The countess advised her to go - r Albertine, begging them not to delay dinner for her, consented; she took her hat and cloak in haste. , ■ 'And her parasol,, no doubt?.' said Preussach I smiling. > 'Of course,"was tlie answer. 'The distance was considerable; for Madame Seehausen's note was dated somewhere in the upper part of the town. The girl accompanied her. 'Itwas almost dark, and the candles were already lighted in the apartment when she returned. She appeared heated and agitated ; her eyes showed traces of weeping ; and, in answer to the sympathizing enquiries of her friend's, she gave them a pathetic account of the distresses of her friend, and of the suffering to herself which the recital had caused.' t Preussach saw that the ladies had formed the idea that the extreme curiosity which he manifested as to every particular relative to Madame Siegfeld, was owing to a tender interest on his part in the lady; for they smiled at the minuteness of his questions, as if they penetrated the 1 ? by whicb/ tnev were dictated. He thought, therefore, that rue might venture to play the part of the inquisitor still more boldly. Her dress—did they recollect the colour V They hesitated; they were not certain; but it was silk. 'Perhaps, if he might hazard a conjecture, it was green silk?' The ladies smiled. The countess remembered a green silk petticoat which Madame Siegfeld occasionally wore, but could not recollect whether she wore it that day. ■One!' said Aurelia, ' not that day. I know she had a dress with short sleeves, for she wore long gloves.' Preussach listened with fixed attention. 'True, true!' exclaimed the ladies, laughing in chorus: 'That was the day she made so strange an exchange.' Preussach had some difficulty in concealing his>nxiety under the mask of pleasantry. ' If I might only be permitted a peep into this mystery, said he, with a gallant bow to Aurelia, these long gloves seem to be associated with some agreeable recollection.' ''Don't deceive yourself, , replied Aurelia; a mere trifle—only one of your fair friend's caprices of the toilet.' The countess interferrea. 'Come, tell the

s tovy at once* Baron Preussach must not lot for wonders hero. , ole Aurclia with mock earnestness began. ' n was a fine summer morning, when mamma am! two of her daughters—Elizabeth was not of tl party—called nt Bhunenrode to convey Alb'e* tine to Hilgenberg. The Krettlers were other" wise engaged, and could not attend the -remfa We were rather late, and so did not dismount but waited for our protege in the carriage Sh came at last, accompanied by her waitinglmaM and stepped into the carraige, while the maid mounted the box. Compliments had been ex changed; the horses were just put in motion when Albertine unluckily dropped from the carriage window one of her fine long white glow Alas! it fell into the mud, and.was total?v iW troyed. y es " ' A substitute must be found. The waiting womanhurried into the house, and returned with another pair: but—of Danish leather. ' Madame Siegfeld was annoyed, for she had set her heart on white gloves. For the present however, there was no help; and the Danish gloves, which were new and elegant, were ac cepted. In the evening, when she returned from her northern friend, ray first glance acci dentally fell on her gloves. She again wore white. My mother and I made no remark The touching story of her friend's misfortunes had made us melancholy. Matilda, however who. had been out of the room when she returned came up to her with a smile. ' Why do you look at me so? , said Albertine, somewhat confused ' I am admiring your consistency; as you besan the day with white gloves, you are resolved so to end it. , 'A!' exclaimed Madame Siegfeld ' consistency has nothing to do with the matter' in the agitation of taking leave of my friend I made an involuntary exchange,—the gloves belong to a young lady, her companion, and I only discovered my mistake when too late.' 'I could not help thinking," added Matilda 'her distraction of mind must have been considerable; for the third edition of the gloves was any thing but an improved one; they were of very ordinary material, large, and ill made. Preussach hinted at the story of the wound in the hand; but here he met with a decided negative, accompanied by an expression of surprise That Madame Siegfeld had met with a wound none of them suspected or believed. 'It must have been,' said Matilda, slyly, 'an invisible one—in the heart. , Preussach stopped: he had learned enoughmore than he could have hoped for. As he took' his leave of Langsitz, the countess expressed a hope that they might renew their acquaintance >, at a future period:—the hope was fulfilled soonerthan they expected or wished for. ' • ■" ,' t In passing through Hilgenberg on his way to -.. X——, he caused the most careful enquiries to" I be made after Madame Seehausen ; but withont'V" success. The name was wholly unknown in. > Hilgenberg. ' ; He laid the result of his investigations before Senkenberg, who now thought the time Tiad arrived for proceeding criminally against the suspected party. He prepared a detailed memoiral, in which he recapulated the combination of circumstances which seemed to implicate Madame yon Preussach in a guilty participation, at least, in the murder of her husband; adverted to her arrival in, the district, which might be shortly expected; and urged the authorities, as soon as she{ appeared, to proceed in the usual way to her examination as a party charged with a criminal offence. At the same time that Senkenbeig laid his memorial before the Ober-Procura-tor, Ferdinand appeared in the formal character of private complainer. He hesitated not to ascribe the crime, of which he alleged his sister-in-law to be either the perpetrator or the accomplice, to pecuniary embarrasment arrising from extravagance in the capital, and the anxiety to anticipate the increased allowance which would fall to her from the entailed estates upon the death of her husband; an allowance, however, which she would now forfeiiin favour of himself, ii her participation in the murder could be brought home to her, and which formed the ground on which his appearance as private complainer was justified. Whether the O'oer-Pr&curator would have been inclined at once to proceed upon Senken berg's requisition had it stood alone, we know not; but bis hesitation was at once put an end to when he combined it with another circumstance which took place at the lime, and which,, though slight in itself, acquired importance from the way in which it was connected with others. Albertine had arrived in Hamburg, and, following Preussach , s suggestion, had immediately addressed herself in writing to the Ober-Procurator, requesting an interview with the member of the court to whom the investigation into her husband's death had been delegated. She had been given to understand, she said, that suspicion had fallen on an individual whom she felt herself both able and bound to vindicate. This last allusion was naturally unintelligible to the Ober-Procurator; since no proceedings had been taken against the clerygyman's daughter. He delivered the letter to the judge who had the investigation? and directed him to interrogate the writer further as to the point in question. The judge looked at the letter; the handwriting struck him as familiar; he compared it with that of the letter of the 21st July; to himself the resemblance appeared to be strong. He laid both before professional men, as well as the stripe of paper found in the poor's chest. As to the last they could pronounce no decided opinion; the characters were disguised; the characters were disguised; the other two; they thought, were the production of one hand. In a day or two after, Albertine presented herself before the judge of instruction in X—->K —-> accompanind by her mother. {To be continued in our next.)