UNDER THE SHADOW OF A CRIME.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume X, Issue 7, 7 June 1889, Page 27

UNDER THE SHADOW OF A CRIME.

By K. B. Mabshall.

Author of " From Dark to Diwn," " Two Af ierno»ns," " The Golden Cross," " The Blood- Red Snow," " Sigaum Requirastis," etc. It may generally be assumed, when one comes across a horse bridled and saddled, that the rider is, if not oa the back of his Ro3inante, at least not very far away. £u3h was the natural enough inference drawn by a peasant who, one bright forenoon early in June, 1880, observed a riderless hack nibbling peacefully away at the herbagn in the forest of Fontenay aux-Roses, wnich is, as any one who has lived in Rouen knows, t» favourite haunt of those Rouennais wno love to cultivate an appetite for luncheon by a morning promenade. Seeing a bright five-franc piece in prospect, our Jacques Bonbomme, after securing the animal— an easy matter, by the way — proceeded to look for its owner.

" That has not the air of being vicious," thought the peasant, apropos of ihe animal he held by the bridle, and speculating upon tne probability of the rider having been thrown ; •' but some of these gentlemen of the town know as much about a horse as a fish about apples. I thought it," he added some few minutes afterwards, as, coming to a turning where the alley he was following opened 'out into a kind of small clewing, he saw a human fjrm extended motionleßß upon the ground before him. After a first glance, Jacques seemed more astonished than bis previous self-addressed remaiks concerning the equestrian capacities of " those gentlemen of the town " would have seemed to warrant ; and well be might, for the man lying in the centre of the clearing wore the uniform of an army officer, and Jacques knew that the military riding-schools, with their houis of bare-back ridin?, turned out cavaliers who could stick in their seats as well a§ a ciicus performer. Jacques eyed the horse somewhat askance, aB he went up to the helpless soldier.

Two minutes later, our Jacques Bonbomme was bestriding the animal which be bad captured, and was urging it as fast as band and voice could make it gallop in the direction of the town ; and sjme few hours later, all Rouen was talkiog of the murder that had been committed that moruing :n tbe wood of Fontenay-aux- Roses

Tbe afternoon of that same day, perhaps the most wretched and distressed creature in all Rouen was Heleue Lapeyre, the only daughter of one of the " leading citizsns " of that cathedral city. She, like eveiy one else, Lad heard too news of the murder of Major Magnier, and the tidings affected her more nearly than any one else Major Magnier h d beai a fiieud of mr father's and, what is more,' bad hoped to trancfer that fntmsnip into a much closer and deeper rela ion^hip by a marriage with the daughter. Though, as has been said, perhaps th.; most miserable creUure in all Rouen was He eoe Lapeyre, it does not follow ih.' tin girl was gnevicg simply because she bat lost apo^s'ble husband. As - matter of fact Heleae bad n > id(.a ot rrgudiig the death of Major Magnier in this light, for she had aiwaye been iad'ft reat to hiß attentions, her heart having been giv Jynt-j the keeping of another man. Still B he could not but be deeply inov«d at hearing of the dtaib, under such terrible conditions, of oue. whose only fault was that he hart loved her. Tue measure of her grief, <jf,'lo speak more correctly, of her misery and wretchedness was abnormal and requires explanation. This explanation will be aff jrded by intioducing the reader into the room in which Helene and her mother, a well preserved, kindly-looking woman, were seated, the one busy with some feminine work, the other sitting listlessly

with her hands in her lap. The two moraen were discussing the all absorbing topic of the murder. " You must not allow it to distress you so, child." Madame Lapeyre remarked. "It is horrible, certainly," and a tear of sympathy, or pity, or both, stole down her face ; " but it is God's will."

Madame Lapeyre had baen aware of the attention paii by Major Magnier to her daughter, bnt, with a mother's instinct, had divined that they were not rec3ived with favour. Still, she understood that a shock must have boon given to her daughter's nervous system, and seeiig He'uie sitting opposite to her, a pictnreof unutterable, tearless anguish, Bhe put down her emoroHery and moved to a seat beside the girl. Stalling on^ aim around hor daughter's waist, with the other hand she pulled the drawn face to hers. At this He. ene broke down completely. W >rds came with the nobs, jerked out, as it were, andwoid* of surprising import. At first Midam* Lnpeyre was unable to grasp their terrible meaning. As there is no reabon why the reader should be required to suffer tbe same delay, we will endeavour to present Helene'a revelations — for to her mother they were revelations— in a more concise and lucid style, than the girl was mistress of.

Major Magnier had been laying siege to a place already in possession of an enemy. Among the officers of the same regiment was ooe Captain de Soubeyron, who, * native of Rouen, had known H4!e ie Lapeyre almost from her childhood. Monsieur and M«dame Lapeyre had taken no notice of the intimacy existing between their daughter ant De Soubeyron. neither in the distant pa«-t, when it wot merely a boy aud girl frumNhip, nor in the more immediate past, when they mistakenly r<-giid:i <t *s such, for the bor and girl frienddhip lja'l ripenvl infrj a BT>n» an I datp love b;twe»n man and woman. Major Maguier hid been moro observan*, and f'om having merely a suspicion of the ral state of aff lira, hi hai come to possess the complete certainly that be had been worsiei in th* struggle for Heleae Lapeyre 's heart and hand , for there was no likelihood of her having to be-Mow the latter upon any other than tbe man to whom she had foifeited the former, De Soubeyron '• connections, prospects, etc., being satisfactory in every way, and, in some iespects indeed, superior to those possess d by Magnier. Instead, however, of retiring from the field, as he might hare done, with his eagles still in his possession, Magnier lost cont'ol over himself, and thus exposed himself to an ignominious disaster. This result, inevitable considering the character of the contest, had arrived on the day preceding that on which this story opens Under circumstances into which it is not necessary to enter, Heleae had shown her preference for Ds Souboyron. The Major had lost his temper, and forgetful of everything nave that he was in tbe presence of a hated rival, vented his spleen by addressing De Soubjyron in the most insulting fashion. He ene was witness of the scene. What she most feared was that it would not end there, but that it would have consequences which might be disastrous for ber lover. D* Soubeyron had, to use a vulgar phrase, been "hard bit." Though he had, in H6 eoe's presence, borne himself with dignity, the girl taw that there were within him smothered fires which would burst forth in terrible fury. Now, on the very day succeeding this altercation between the two men, Major Magnier had been found dead. Do what she would to banish the thought, the remembrance of tbe scene of ytsterday, and of tbe evil look which she bad seen in her lover's eyes, would force itself upon her.

Madame Lapeyre, at first utterly amazed at the situation which her daughter's broken words placed before her, came, by the light of calmer reason, to see it* absurdity. Such baseness was impossible in any gentleman, and least of all possible in Alfred de rioobeyron'i c-ise. As for the idea of tte two men having met ttat morning in toe wood, and of the scene of the previous day being repeated and extended, she dismissed that as in the highest degree improbable.

He'une would willingly have found herself convinced by her mother's reasoning, but the horrible idea which had taken possession of her was too strong. It was a kind of nightmare, and, do what she would, she could not shake it off.

It was not that she believed exactly that it was as she feared — her faith in her lover was too firm for that — but she feared that it might be so.

The girl was still a prey to those harassing thoughts, when Monsieur Lipeyre entered the room. Immediately on hearing of th* alleged murder of Major Magnier he bad gone to make inquiries. His first words on seeing bis wife and child on his return were : '• He is aot dead 1 ' "Not dead ? '* echoed the two woman, Madame Lapeyre, adding, ' Thank God I " ' " No — not yet ; what was at fir* 1 : taken fjr death was merely a state of complete unconciousoess. There is, however, no hope of saving his life. The assassin's knife has done its work too welL What the doctors cannot quite understand is that poor Magnier should remain so long unconscious. His condition is entirely abnormal. He had not bled at all, or very little, that is exteriorly. There are no bruises or anything of that kind to account for tbe state of coma in which tbe poor fellow lies. Doctor Edmund says he can only account for it by supp sing that the knife had be n dipped in some subtle poison, the existence and the effects of which are unknown to science. It is a strange affair altogether."

" Is he not expected to recover consciousness? " asked Madame Lapeyre.

■' Yet>, the doctors say that a man in his state usually comes to his senses just before dea 1 b. Let v* hope that he will do so, so that the murderer will not escape. It all depends on Magnier being able to say who is the man."

" 18 there no other clue ? " asked Madame Lapeyre.

" Yes, there is one — the knife was found sticking in the poor fellow's breist. It is a peculiar weapon-with a silver-chased haft, and a long, thin, triple-edged blade. But whatever is the matter with He't-ne ? " The girl had suddenly fainted. (Concluded in, our next.")