WOOING A WIDOW.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XV, Issue XXI, 23 November 1895, Page 655

WOOING A WIDOW.

BY

CHAPTER XVIII. THE MISSING BANKNOTES. On the same morning Martin had a long interview at hie residence with the servantgirl of the family in whose house Sonnenberg lodged. In hie accustomed skilful manner he drew from her all that there was to be told about Mrs Brighton's visits to her husband, which had roused her curiosity sufficiently to keep her on the alert. She mentioned the violent alterca* tions between the two on both occasions, the tone of which was unmistakable, although they were carried on in a strange language, as well as the fact chat Sonnenberg and his visitor left the house together stealthily at a late hour on the second evening. The girl also stated that Herr Sonnenberg intended to start on a journey the next day and that it was quite uncertain when he would return. Peter Martin was still thinking over the communications of this important witness when he heard a carriage stop before his house. A few minutes later Dora Winkler entered his room in evident excitement. *1 have some information to give you that will astonish you,’ she said, taking the chair he offered—‘information which places Sonnenberg in our power, bound hand and foot.’ * Let me hoar it,’ replied Martin, doubtfully. ' I fear you are entertaining hopes which will not bear close scrutiny.’ ‘On the contrary, they are sure to be realised,’ continued Dora, confidently, and then she reported all that her servant had told her about the interview between Sonnenberg and Ernestine. The old gentleman’s face grew more and more thoughtful ; he played with his enuflbox and listened in silence, and when Dora had finished, he passed his hand slowly over his face. * A well-laid scheme,’ he remarked. ‘You might have been beggared if your servant had not rendered you this great service. Listening has its good pointe, after all, even though a listener is considered to be a contemptible person. At three o'clock then ?’ ‘That was the agreement. What is to be done now! Sha I I keep the appointment which will be proposed tome? Shall I send the servant away and leave home with Ernestine ? ‘Your idea, I presume, is that I should surprise Sonnenberg at his work,’ said the detective, reflectively. * I don’t like such surprises, they generally lead to a desperate struggle, and in this case we have a man to deal with who knows very well that he is lost. H-m, he will probably bring his burglar’s tools with him ; if we find them on him we shall have proof enough ; and I should like to take the opportunity to have a look at the widow Hennig. I will come to you, madam ; you shall be present when he is caught in his own trap.' * But will he come if he has not previously been assured that we have left the house?’ asked Dora, anxiously. ‘I suspect that he will be watching for our departure.’ ‘No, he would know that he might arouse suspicion by that, He trusts in the signal which his accomplice is to give him, and that signal must, of course, not be neglected. Leave everything to me; he will come at the appointed hour, and then naturally be somewhat surprised to find us there.’ ’ Shall you come alone ?’ ‘Yes, but my men will be close by, for in case that he-should, on seeing us, decide to turn back and try to escape.* * And how have I to act until you come ?’

• In a way which will arouse no suspicion in yout companion. When you receive the letter do not express any doubts, but order a cab and ask Frau Hennig to accompany you. If the latter proposes to send the , servant out on errands, give your consent after some hesitation, but do not let the woman go before lam with you. She can then make use of the carriage. If Sonnenberg is really on the watch in the neighbourhood, he will see the cab drive off, and of course, suppose that you and Frau Hennig are in. The rest will adjust itself,’ he added, casting a quick glance at hie watch as he spoke. *ln fifteen minutes I will have to leave you.* There was a mysterious expression about the corners of his mouth, which attracted Dora’s attention. * To attend to our affairs ?’ she asked.

‘Yes, I hope before an hour has passed, to have the person who robbed Roland's safe under lock and key.’

EWALD AUGUST KOENIG.

* Roland himself ?’ she asked, in sudden agatation. ‘So I suppose. Nothing has been proved as yet, but we hope to obtain the required evidence very shortly.’ * Oh, wait, I have forgotten to mention one thing: My servant declares that she heard Sonnenberg say that, if he were to tell what he knows, Gustav Dornberg would be discharged at once.’ * Ah, that is very important,’ said Martin. * Of course he mentioned no names ?' *No ; but Katherine's testimony will suffice, I hope, to force him to tell the name.’ *H m ! That assertion of his proves to me that he will not hesitate to do so as soon as it is for his interest. And that name will be Oscar Roland.* *1 think so, too. But will the judge credit that assertion ? Is it not. perhaps, merely a supposition of Sonnenberg’s ? And what if it cannot be proved ?’ * It is more than a supposition,’ said the old gentleman, rising. * Sonnenberg was in Roland's garden when the robbery was discovered. You will remember that the window was found open. He may have watched the whole proceeding closely, and, face to face with so well-informed a witness, Roland will not venture to deny his guilt. But now you must excuse me.’ * Certainly ; 1 will not detain you any longer. Then I may expect you after dinner ?' ‘ Without fail ; and until then be sure to avoid everything which might awaken mistrust in your companion ’ When Dora bad left, the detective went head his bedroom, from which he soon emerged again wearing the fur-lined coat as well as the wig and spectac es. He was once more the country gentleman, who sauntered along the street as if he were at a loss how to kill time. When he reached the Black Eag'e the head waiter, with hie napkin over hie arm, was standing at the door of the diningroom. * Everything ready ?* asked Martin. * Everything, sir,’ replied the headwaiter, accompanying him into the hall. * The gentleman himself is not here yet.' * It is not quite time,’ replied the old gentleman, as they ascended the stairs. ‘ It would be provoking indeed if he stayed away ; but I don’t think he will. I hope my men are on the spot?’ ‘ Just arrived.’ * Very well ; as soon as I ring the bell, send them both upstairs.’ ‘ And then the porter is to go for a cab ?’ * Certainly. The less disturbance there is made the better.’ * The affair must naturally create some disturbance,’ said the head-waiter, opening a door. Deter Martin entered an elegantly furnished room, and cast a scrutinising look around it. A bottle of wine and a wine-g lass stoo on the table ; a trunk and valise were conspicuous in one corner. * I had that luggage brought here so that the room should look inhabited,’ resumed the head waiter, after filling the wineglass. * Otherwise the gentleman might suspect something and turn back at the door.’ The detective went to the mirror and adjusted his wig, which was somewhat awry. ‘ Well, how do I look ? You, of course, would know me at once—’ ‘ Not at once, sir, and no one who is not vory well acquainted with you would recognise you in that disguise. You could safely wear it to a masquerade. By the way, a gentleman who is stopping here inquired for you this morning. He arrived by the night train, and I presume he is in his room at present, resting from hie journey.’ * Hie name?’ * Mr James Harris, from London.' * Very well ; when I am through with this affair let him know that I am here. I was expecting him.’ * Has he anything to do with Mis Brighton’s case ?’ said the head waiter, inquisitively, while Martin was slowly draining the glass of wine. * You shall heal all about it in due time.' * Oh, very well, I can wait.’ With this the head waiter hastened away. He had hardly reached the dining room again when Herr Roland entered, and. in a low tone, inquired for the pretended country nobleman. ‘Number 14, one flight, on the left,* replied the head waiter, in his officious way * Shall I send up your name, sir?' * No, it is not necessary ; the gentleman expects me,' said Roland leaving the diningroom with hasty steps.

A few minutes later he entered the room where the detective was sitting at hie bottle of wine.

* I suppose you thought 1 was not coming. I am a few minutes late—’

* 1 have plenty of time,’ replied Martin, with a smile, as he relieved his visitor of his hat and umbrella and motioned him to a chair. * I never doubted for a moment that you would keep your word.’ ' So you did not go to the money changer’s again ?’ asked Roland. ‘No. Why should I?’ replied the old gentleman. *We had agreed upon the terms. You are to give me six thalers twenty-two and a half groschen for the pound sterling— Have you made out the account ?’ * No, but that is easily done,* said Roland, taking a wallet from his pocket. *ls the amount just two thousand pounds ?' * Exactly.’ * Very well ; two thousand times six and three quarter thalers is thirteen thousand five hundred thalers. You want large bills?’ ‘ Yes.’ * Then I will pay you the whole amount in twenty-seven five-hundred thaler notes.’ ‘A I right; that will accommodate us both, and you will do a capital stroke of business.’ Roland opened hie wallet. His hands trembled as he counted out the banknotes on the table. * But where is the English money ?’ he asked, and his eyes expressed a slight mistrust as he looked up at the old gentleman. * I will send to the landlord for my cash box,’ said the latter, who had also taken out a wallet and laid it open before him on the table. ‘ But excuse me. these fivehundred thaler notes —I notice here a number which has been publicly warned against. And here is another, and here a third. My dear sir, where did you get these notes ?* Roland’s thin face had turned deadly pale. He was about to gather up the bills, but Martin had anticipated him, and laid bis hand upon them. * There must be some mistake,’ said Roland, in a hoarse voice. * What put such nonsense into your head ?’ f )* It is no nonsense, by any means, replied the detective, who still preserved his com posure. * only caution on my part. A Baron Busse has advertised the numbers of these bills, and warned the public against taking them in payment. They had disappeared after the robbery at Roland’s bank.’ ‘I don’t know anything about that; I received these bills in payment myself.’ *Do you know Herr Roland, the banker ?’ * Why do you ask ?’ * Because, if you do, you might inquire of him about the matter.’ * I’ll do so at once,’ replied Rolund, quickly, hoping under this pretext toescape the danger that threatened him and not realising, in his terrible excitement, that he might be in a trap which had been set for him intentionally. * Give me those bills, if you please.' * But, my dear sir, what are you going to do at Roland’s? You know he has failed.' * He shall tell me whether these are really the notes that were stolen from him,’ said Roland, in increasing confusion. * Then he will have the right to insist on your restoring them to him.’ ‘ln that case the person from whom I received them will have to indemnify me.* ‘Who is that person? Herr Sonnenberg ?’ Roland stared at the detective with wideopen eyes. Every tinge ot colour left hie cheeks ; his lips twitched convulsively ; he uttered a low groan. Peter Martin had pressed the button of the electiic bell. He took oil his wig and spectacles, and fixed hie clear, intelligent eyes upon Roland, with e searching look. * You are Oscar Roland, the banker,’ he said, in a tone which admitted of no contradiction. * You yourself caused those banknotes to disappear.' The banker had sunk back into his chair. Every feature of his face showed une,teakable dismay. How was he to answer this accusation ? He remembered Sonnenberg’s threats, and took it for granted that the latter had betrayed him. And his shrewd wife, who would have helped him, was not present. As for him, he was utterly at a loss w hat to do. * And who are you ?’ he asked hoarsely, passing hie hand over his forehead, on which stood great drops of perspiration.

*An official. Have you not guessed that yet ?' * Of the secret police ?' * Certainly, and as the proofs of your guilt are now in my hands, you will see that denial will only make your case worse. What Sonnenberg saw that evening—’ ‘That scoundrel I’ cried Roland, furiously. ‘You can’t believe a word of what he says about himself, and—* ‘His assertions are quite as trustworthy as those of some other people,’continued Martin, significantly; ‘and even if that were not the case, we do not need them now, as the fact of these banknotes being found in your possession proves your guilt.’ * They are bills which I received from my son-in-law. for the purpose of transacting this business with you. What do you know about tho numbers? It is nothing but a subterfuge.'

* Not quite, my dear sir,’ replied Martin calmly. ‘The firm through which you received the money from Baron Busse has taken great pains to ascertain the numbers of the banknotes in question, and was all the more successful that the amount was in large bills, the numbers of which any careful cashier would naturally make a note of. Thus we have received a list of these numbers, and that list contains several that 1 find here. You, yourself, cannot doubt tlie validity of these proofs, and I can only advise you to make a full confession.’ *Do not ruin me !’ moaned Roland, who was beginning to grow disheartened. ‘I pity you. but 1 must do my 'duty. Where is the rest of the money ?’ The banker pretended not to have heard t his question. He cast a timid glance at the door, and passed his hand through his thin rod whiskers.

‘That Sonnenberg is nothing but a miserable adventurer,’lie said. ‘You really cannot believe him.' ‘Will you tell me where the rest of the money is ? asked Martin, once more. *lf not, I shall be obliged to have your residence searched, and if the money is not found there, have your wife arrested also. As it is, she is strongly suspected of having been an accessory to the crime.’ * And if it should be found,’ asked Roland, ‘would that exonerate me ?’ * Yes, in some respects ; that is, if w find it in consequence of your confession.' ‘ Would you notarrest me in that case?' ‘ I regret that I should be obliged to do so nevertheless, for, as I remarked before, I must do my duty. But I should show you lhe greatest possible consideration. I should send you in a carriage from here to the office of the examining magistrate, for he alone can determine whether you will be imprisoned at once or released on bail.’ ‘Can you not say a word in my fat our,’ said the banker, clinging to that hope. * Possibly,’ ‘ Well then, I’ll tell you,’ said Roland, with a deep sigh. *1 suppose I’ll have to live on my children’s bounty henceforth. It was a very rash proceeding on my part, I admit, and if chance had not favoured me—’ * Where is the money, if you please ?’ *At Menzel’s villa, in an old black trunk which has a double bottom.’ The confession had hardly crossed Roland’s lips before he seemed to repent it' He stamped his foot angrily and raised both hands to his bald head, as if he wanted to box his own ears for having been so cowardly. * It was not only a rash proceeding but a very dishonourable one,’ said the detective, whose voice no longer sounded calm, but stern and determined. ‘ And it was unpardonable that you took advantage of your being favoured by chance and looked on quietly while an excellent, honest man was innocently condemned. Yet now you ask to be treated with consideration. By what right, if I may ask ? Had you any consideration for Dornberg, for his sister and his betrothed ? Would you have cared in the least if he had had to undergo his whole term of punishment and had been deprived of his honour and all happiness in life? No, sir, you cannot ask or expect any leniency or consideration, neither you nor your wife, who was most probably your accomplice.* * No, no,’ cried Roland, who had listened to this declaration with increasing alarm; ‘don’t believe that.' ‘Ths examination will show whether I am right,’ replied Martin, opening the door.

Two police officials enteiod the room. The banker started from hie seat in horror, but one glance at the calm, reso-

lute face of the old gentleman convinced him that every proteat, every entreaty would remain fruitless. He took his hat and umbrella and, silently and with lowered head, followed the police officials from the room. Peter Martin rubbed hie hands with a satisfied look and placed the banknotes in his wallet. Then he sent hie name by the head waiter to Mr James Harris, of London, who received hit visitor without delay and, as it seemed, with great pleasure. CHAPTER XIX. IN THEIR OWN TRAP. The information which old Katherine had given her mistress proved correct. The latter had been at home but a short time after the visit to the detective, and had hardly finished giving instruction- to her old servant, when Ernestine returned. The latter gave a circumstantial report of her various errands. She had purchased sundry articles which Katherine was to call for toward three o'clock. Dora consented to everything, and anticipated her companion’s wishes by herself giving Katherine the order. They had hardly sat down to dinner when the anonymous letter arrived. After reading it, Dora had to confess to herself that she should have believed it implicitly if she had not been forewarned. She consulted with Ernestine as to the contents of the letter, as Martin bad advised, or, in a measure, directed her to do ; and Frau Hennig declared, without hesitation, that the proposition ought to be accepted. A cab was, therefore, ordered. It was long after two o’clock. Ernestine proposed that they should start, as the writer of the letter would certainly expect them to be punctual. * He will wait till we come,* replied Dora, who was listening to every sound which made itself heard. * And, besides, we have plenty of time The carriage will take us there quickly.' * The cab ought to be here. It is time for Katherine to start, too.’ * Patience ?’ said Dora, with a weak attempt at pleasantry. * You are generally so calm and composed ; why this restlessness and excitement now ?' *ls it not natural that I should be excited ?’ replied Ernestine. *We are at length face to face with the solution of a mystery which we have so long been seeking in vain to unravel. Can you wonder that I am anxious lest that solution should again escape us ?’ •Then the writer of this letter would be an impostor." ‘ We have no guarantee that he is not one. But there is the cub, let us hurry. Katherine had better start, too, so that she can bo back before we return.’ Just then the bell rang. Katherine opened the door and ushered two gentlemen into the drawing-room— the detective and a stranger. * I have the honor of presenting to you Mr James Harris, of London,’ said Martin, turning to Dora, without taking the slightest notice of the surprise of her companion. * I am happy to make your acquaintance, sir,’ replied Dora, motioning to the gentleman to sit down. * I feel obliged, in your own interest.fto remind you that we ought not to delay a moment longer,' said Ernestine, urgently. ‘This is Frau Hennig, I suppose?’ asked the old gentleman, with a smile. * Will you be kind enough to inform me of the nature of the relations on which the intimacy between you and Herr Theodor Sonnenberg is ba*ed ?’ Ernestine’s sharp eyes grew staring, her narrow, tightly compressed lips twitched convulsively ; she knew already that all was lost. * Who are you, and what gives you the right to put that question to me?’ she asked, tossing her head defiantly. •I think I might as well tell you the truth, at once,’ continued Martin, calmly. * You wish to know who I am ? lam an otlicial of the criminal police. And what justifies my question ? A confidential conversation which you had with Sonnenberg last evening, and ot which we know every word. Excuse me, you will be so good as not to leave this room, and to keep quiet.’ He had interrupted her as she was about to hasten from the room ; hie resolute manner showed her that it would be in vain to try to outwit him. * You will remain here and await further events,' he continued, and his voice now sounded stern and threatening. *1 advise you to listen to tny warning; you will repent of it bitterly if you neglect to do so.’ * And this is your doing, Dora I* cried Ernestine, with a furious look. *1 should be ashamed—’ * You ought to be ashamed of your own treachery 1’ Dora interrupted het, indignenlly ; ‘and of being in league with a criminal.' * Who calls Sonnenberg a criminal?' cried Ernestine, indignantly.

*I !’ replied Martin. * Even though he has not yet been proved to have committed murder, there is still a strong suspicion against him, and, however closely he may be allied to you, madum, you will no longer be able to prevent his arrest. Ab soon as he has entered this house, two police officials will guard the door, who have strict orders not to let him out again. You may hope to warn him by a cry, but that stratagem would fail entirely, and only occasion your own arrest.’

Ernestine had not been prepared for that terrible accusation.

She remembered the lady in grey—the gentleman from London had assuredly come to prove Sonnenberg’s guilt. A sudden weakness overcame her ; almost fainting, she sank into a chair ; and her burning glance rested io hotror on the grave face of the old gentleman, in which she read no mercy.

She was about to hasten to the window and call from it, in case that he was already near the house ; but as she sprang from her seat, the detective's hand grasped her arm with so tight a pressure that she cried out with pain.

‘I advise you once more to keep quiet,' he said ; ‘otherwise you will only compromise yourself. The signal agreed upon has been given : The curtains in your bedroom are lowered, the servant has gone away in the cab—- I tell you again, sit still, unless you wish to force me to handcuff you.’

‘You dare utter such a threat to me? A lady ?’ cried Ernestine, in the highest indignation, and the look which she gave him would have crushed him if it had pos sessed the power of lightning. * 1 would say the same to every female accomplice of a criminal, be she a lady or a servant-girl. You have not yet answered my question : What is Sonnenberg to you ? Have you also married under a false name?’ ‘What put that into your head? she asked angiily. *My maiden name was Sonnenberg.’ ‘ You gave me another name,’ said Dora.

* Was I under obligations to tell you the truth about everything? You would have learned it soon enough if you had become my brother’s wife ; that was the only object which caused me to act as I did. And that object can be condemned neither by law nor by the rules of morality.’ ‘ And when you recognised that it was impossible for you to attain that object,’ said Dora, contemptuously, ‘you planned a robbery with your brother, in order to secure to him the fortune of a lady who had never shown you anything but friendship and confidence.’

‘So he is your brother ?’ remarked the old gentleman, keenly watching Frau Hennig’s every movement. * And is Sonnenberg indeed bis real name?’ * Why do you doubt it ?’ asked she, hotly. ‘Because he called himself John Brighton, in London. * I don’t believe that; there must ba some mistake. And not everything is true that has been said about him.’ * I suppose you are not aware that he has been in England ?’ the detective interrupted her. "Of course you will declare that you know nothing about your brother’s antecedents ?’ * Why should I 1 Whatever Ido know about him is not dishonourable, and if no robbery has been committed here, no one can be punished.’ ‘ That is certainly plain speaking,’ remarked Martin, sarcastically. ‘You consider everything, are prepared for everything. You console yourself with the assurance that if you do not succeed here you will do so all the better in another place. I fear, however, that you will find yoursef bitterly deceived in that hope, as the dealings of thia shady man of honour have been put a stop to for the present, and probably for a long time to come.’ Again a wrathful look fell upon him from Ernestine’s grey eyes. ‘lf you had to answer for that insult you could not do it,’ she said. But at that moment the detective laid his hand firmly upon her mouth. * Hush 1’ ho whispered. * liemember the handcuffs. lam not joking.’ For Dora, who had stationed herself where she could keep an eye on the ground glass panes of the hall door, had exclaimed in a low tone, ‘ Here he is !’ and. with her finger to her lips, passed to another part of the room. Martin ceaeod speaking, but did not relax his iron hold on Ernestine. The key turned in the lock, footsteps were heard in the hall, and Theodor Sonnenberg appeared in the open door of the drawing-room. Ernestine uttered a loud scream as the old gentlemen took his hand from her mouth. t-onnenberg had stopped in dismay when ho saw the assembled group, instead of finding the rooms empty as he had expected. * Walk in, i you please,’ said Martin. ‘Your retreat is cut of. You are caught in your own trap.’ Sonnenberg at once comprehended the situation. He hoped that his presence of

mind, which he never lost, would rave him in this case as well. With head erect and a defiant smile upon hie lips, he entered the room. * May 1 trouble you for an explanation of those words !’ he asked, emphatically. ■What did you ray about a retreat being cut off and my own trap? Madam, I came to take leave of you,’ he continued, turning to Dora. * I found the outside door open— ’ He broke oil suddenly. Hie eyes had fallen on Mr Harris, who had stepped from behind the portiere. ■I suppose you remember me, Mr Brighton,’ asked the Englishman, ironically *1 came here to inquire into the fate of your wife ?’ * I think you are mistaken. sir,’ replied Sonnenberg, who had quickly regained his composure, badly shaken though it had been *My name is Theodor Sonnenberg, and I do not remember ever to have met you before.’ •I am not in the least mistaken. A year ago, in London, you went by the name ot John Brighton, and a short time since the dead body of your wife was found in the river here.’ *ls the gentleman out of hie mind ?' asked Sonnenberg, turning to Dora, who was hastening co the hall door to let in the police officials * The whole is nothing but a low revenge ; aimed at us,’ said Ernestine, * and now— ’

‘Enough,’ Martin broke in. *1 request you, Herr Sonnenberg, to hand over to me the key to this apartment, as well as the skeleton keys you have doubtless brought with you. And I also want to see the old cap and the cotton handkerchief which you intended to leave behind you in order to create the impression that the robbery here had been committed by a professional burglar.’ • Have I stumbled upon a company of lunatics ? Prove to me, if you can, that a burglary was to take place here. You may be a good detective, sir, but this time you are on a wrong track. Because I inquired about that Englishwoman at the Black Eagle that day, you think—’ • That you murdered thar. lady, your own wife. I not only believe that, but I have proofs of it. Or do you still declare that you never knew the woman ?’

* Prove to tee first that I did know her.’ •I will ewear to your having been the hutband of Mary Brighton,' raid Mr Harris ie a loud voice. * And the servant in the house where you live has stated, on her oath, that the Englishwoman was at your rooms the night before her death, and left the house with you. The interview in your rooms took place late in the evening, after the theatre, and you went away with the lady after midnight.* A hardly perceptible pallor had spread over Sonnenberg’s face ; his hand, on which flashed the diamond ring, trembled as he passed it slowly over his beard. * And if that were the truth, which I by no means admit,’ he said, * what would be proved by it. Certainly not that which you wish to prove. The lady committed suicide, and that was also the opinion of the physician who made tbe post mortem examination. What more do you want ? You seem to be one of those over zealous officials of the criminal police, who scent a mysterious crime everywhere, and deem it their duty to ferret it out. My reputation ie a spotless one, and I have never been concerned in any crime.' * In spite of that declaration I arrest you in the name of the law !’ cried the old gentleman, in so loud a tone that hie men. who were waiting outside the door, could not help hearing him, and entered the room. CHAPTER XX. When Sonnenberg saw them, he made a movement towards his breast pocket, but the next moment he withdrew hie hand again. ’The power is in your hands,’he said, hoarsely. *lt would be foo ish to resist it; I should certainly be defeated ; and any struggle which I might make in seltdefence would be used against me in the future as a proof of guilt. I shall submit now, but you may rest assured that I shall call you to account and demand satisfaction for this ’ Again a carriage was plainly heard to stop before the house. Martin had taken out his snuffbox and twirled it carelessly between his fingers, while his eyes rested on the prisoner. That defiant attitude will avail you

nothing,’ he replied. * Banker Roland, whom I arrested a while ago. was wiser ; he frankly confessed that he himself was the thief for whom Gustav Dorn berg has had to sutler punishment.' At this joyful news, Dora could not restrain her delighted surpri-e; she hastened to the old gentleman, laid her hand on hie arm, and looked up at him, full of impatience. * Is that the truth !’ she asked, trembling with excitement. ‘Yes, ho has confessed his guilt frankly and without reservation : and, what is more, the missing money is already in our hands.* * Many, many thanks for this intelligence !’ she cried, joyfully. * We owe you infinite gratitude I But for your indefatigable perseverance that mystery would never have been solved.’ * Don't think that !' he replied, with his usual pleasant smile. * You see how evildoers are caught in their own snare. Roland, too, was trapped only through his stupidity.' Turning to Sonnenberg, who, in the meantime, had exchanged a most significant glance with his sister, Martin continued : * Will you give mo the articles for which I asked you ’’ Sonnenberg silently shrugged his shoulders ; there was immense contempt but at the same time much suppressed rage in that mute gesture. * Very well, you will probably be forced to empty your pockets,’ remarked the de tective, signing to his men. * The carriage is waiting. I advise you not to attempt an escape, and to do as you are told ; the gentlemen who will accompany you have strict orders and it would be your own fault if you had to be handcuffed. Madam, I regret that I am obliged to ask you to bear your brother company.’ * You are going to arrest me, too!’ cried Ernestine, angrily. • What right have you to do so? What accusation is there against me ?’ * There is so strong a suspicion against you of having been accessory to your brother’s crime that I must leave it for tho examining magistrate to decide whether the accusation against you is to be sustained.’ * You had better submit quietly,’ said

Sonnenberg, contemptuously. This spy is not worth our wasting many words on him. But he will have to answer me for this. He shall repent bitterly of having treated ua in so shameful a manner.’ Ernestine did not take so calm and undisturbed a view of matters as her brother; but she also recognised that no protest, however energetic it might be, would be of any avail. With sarcastic words she asked for permission to put on her bonnet and cloak, and, having done so, she left the room with her brother without deigning even to glance at Dora. Soon after the carriage drove away with the prisoners and the two police officials. Dora drew a breath of relief, and once more warmly thanked the old gentleman, who now also made his preparations to leave, in order to report to the examining magistrate.

Just as he was stalling, Councillor Heppner rushed breathlessly into the room. He had come to reproach his sister. He had learned the arrest of his father in law, and correctly supposed that Dora could give him a full explanation of the matter. Unexpectedly, he found himself in the presence of the man who had ordered the arrest, and the latter met his reproaches with grave composure. * Roland’s guilt has been proved,’ said the old gentleman, emphatically, ‘ln view of this, do you expect that the man who has been innocently condemned shall remain in prison ? Keep your reproaches for him who deserves them, who, from mere love of gain has brought shame and disgrace upon his family. Do you know the paragraph of tho law which applies to this ca-e ’ The question is one of fraudulent bankruptcy as well as the secreting of a large amount to the detriment of the creditors—a crime for which the punishment is State prison.’ *As the money is found, they need not have arrested him. Dornberg would have been discharged.’ * Ah, you think it was enough for one to have been punished ’’ said Martin, sarcastically. * I shall go to Judge Hartmann and demand Roland’s release. The deuce! If his sons-in law are willing to give bail for him, the court must grant it.’ ‘ Very well, you can make the attempt.

J have to aee the judge, too, in order to report Sonnenberg’s ar rent.’ What ? He, too?' cried Heppner, astonished, hastening after the detective, who had already left the room. Again a carriage stopped before the house. Could it be Dornberg ? The door was opened hurriedly, Fannie and Doctor Kerner entered the room.

* Have you heard!’ cried Fannie, jubilantly, as Dora, with a cry of joy, hastened to meet her, and then the two clasped each other in a long embrace. At length Fannie disengaged herself from Dora's arms.

* Wish us joy, Dora ; we are betrothed,’ she said, in a tone full of happiness. * You will not be surprised my dear madam,’ added Kerner ; • for you guessed my heart’s secret long ago. 1 am sure 1 need not tell you that I, too, am unspeakably happy.’ ‘No, indeed,’ cried Dora, extending a hand to each and then again embracing Fannie. ‘May heaven's richest blessing rest upon your union I' * And now for the real object of our coming here.' said the doctor at last. * I have already applied for Gustav's discharge, and think my request will be complied with today. Fannie thought that we ought not to rob you of the pleasure of bringing the prisoner the good news yourself, if agree able to you— 1 * How can you doubt it!’ cried Dora, excitedly. ‘ Well, then, the carriage which brought us here is waiting, We can start at once. ’ * You are always thinking how you can give others pleasure, Fannie, dear—good soul that you are. I thank you with all my heart,’ said Dora, with emotion. They all three then drove straight to the prison and obtained the director's permission to see Gustav. Dora trembled with excitement. She was the first to enter the cell. Gustav had risen from his seat in surprise. He needed but one look into Dora’s radiant eyes to guess everything. ‘ Free !’ she cried. * Free and exonerated from blame. Can you forgive me for having doubted you, my beloved ?’ Her arms were round his neck. He pressed her to his heart and covered her blushing face with passionate kisses. * Is this happiness real ?' he asked, in a trembling voice. ‘ You are mine once more, my all, my life.’ * And nothing shall ever part us again, dearest; no shadow shall ever again fall on our happiness or disturb our love.’ * I can hardly believe it yet,’ said he, and his eyes dim with tears, turned with a questioning glance to Fannie and the doctor, who were just entering the cell. * You may be as happy as you like,’ reuiied Kerner, grasping his hand, while Fannie, too, embraced her brother heartily. Gustav’s discharge was followed by days of unalloyed happiness for the two pairs of lovers. All the councillor's ellorts to procure the release of his father-in-law had proved vain. The offer to give bail was rejected most decidedly by the court, as it was to be foreseen that the family would sacrifice the bail in order to protect the guilty man from a degrading punishment. Frau Roland had started for London the second day after her husband's arrest, evidently in haste to escape the suspicion of having been accessory to her husband’s crime, although, as Roland himself denied this, nothing could be proved against her. And even though the demands of the creditors were, for the most part, satisfied, and Baron Busse recovered the whole amount which he had lost, the indignation against Roland was still so great that the jury would not admit of any extenuating circumstances in his case. Oscar Roland- was sentenced to a term of several years in the penitentiary.

Gustav Dornberg, on the other hand, wu honourably acquitted of all guilt. Some time after thia Dora and Fannie were married at the same time, at the house of the former, and thia joyful event was followed in a few weeks by n wedd ng at Elm Court. Peter Martin was specially invited on all these occasions, and the jovial old gentleman always remained a faithful, welcome guest in every branch of the family circle. Unfortunately, however, the hopes which he had set on Sonnenberg’s arrest were destined not to be fulfilled. At first the latter had denied everything, but at the second examination he admitted everything but the murder. He acknowledged that Mary Brighton had been his wife, that he had deserted her, and that she bad sought him out. He admitted that he had taken her to hie rooms on the evening before her death in order to confer with her about a divorce. He also stated that he had started to accompany her on her return to the hotel, but that, on the way, after a passionate ebullition of anger, she had left him. while he. furious at her obstinacy and her insulting invectives, had gone home. What had happened to her after that he did not know. On the next day he had heard of her death, and naturally had not felt called upon to publish his relations to her This declaration he adhered to. The most skilful cross-questioning on the part of the examining magistrate could not entangle him in any contradictions.

As it was no looser possible to verify the murder, the authorities were finally obliged to dismiss the charge. The dark mystery seemed doomed to remain unsolved. Ernestine had been discharged from arrest some time before. There was no charge against her except the agreement with her brother to rob Frau Winkler of her property. That robbery, however, had never been executed, and Dora would not enter a complainst against her. The noble pair disappeared from the city; Ernestine accompanied her brother to New York. They had been quite forgotten, when I‘e'er Martin, one day, was requested to draw up a report concerning Sonnenberg. The authorities of some city in the United States had asked for this report. Sonnenberg was in prison there, accused of black mail ; and there seemed to have been other chargee against him, for, not long after Martin's communication was sent, the same authorities reported in return that he had ended hie life in a penitentiary. The report added that, on hie deathbed, the deceased had b -asted of various crimes for which he had escaped punishment through his shrewdness ; among others, the murder of his wife, Mary Brighton, by drowning. This was a great satisfaction for Peter Martin. He could now, at last, convince the head waiter of the Black Eagle, who was still somewhat sceptical, that, on the

occasion of Sonnenberg’s arrest, his shrewdness had, after all, found and pursued the right-track. THE KN n.