Decatur Daily Democrat, Volume 8, Number 287, Decatur, Adams County, 6 December 1910 — Page 6

THE fflf DEATH? A Story of Italian Methods In Mediaeval Times. By F. A. MITCHEL. [Copyright, 1810. by American Press Association.] When Venice was mistress of the maritime world she attracted many young men desirous of profiting by her commercial advantages. Among them was one Giuseppe Pessero, who went > there from Rome. Pessero was of good family and had been Intimate with the Borglas, the Farnese and other great families at a time when I the Italians were very skillful In getting rid of those who stood in their way by means of poison. One afternoon, while being pulled In a gondola from St. Mark’s down toward the Rialto, Pessero passed a barge In which sat a vision of loveliness. “Giovanni!” exclaimed Pessero when the two boats had passed. “Who Is that lady?" “That, signor,” replied the gondolier, “Is Slgnorina Francesca del Prombo." “Turn, Giovanni—turn at once and follow." The gondola was swung around and pulled to a flight of steps leading to the square of St. Mark’s. The lady had embarked and entered the square when Pessero’s gondola drew up to the stops. In a few minutes be saw the Slgnorina Francesca Join a party of gentlemen and ladles who were sitting idly, some reading, some playing on lutes, others chatting. Pessero, seeing one among them he knew, spoke to him and was Introduced to the group. But It was Francesca that he wanted. Seizing the earliest opportunity, he devoted himself to her, though without encouragement. Francesca was betrothed to Luigi Sansovino, one of her own rank and high In favor with the doge. Disregarding this, Pessero persisted In his attentions and after an acquaintance of a few weeks made bold to ask for Slgnorina del Prombo’s hand. It Is needless to say that his suit was rejected. That was a far different age from this. While the people had attained a certain refinement, they seemed still to retain the traits of their barbarian ancestors. It was not an uncommon thing for a man rejected by a woman to revenge himself upon her. wa rim F rSIII 'fir 1 P ? uSj ■! & HOBBOB STRICKEN, HIS BBIDB BENT OVEB * Pessero resolved that no one except himself should possess Francesca. But he blded his time. He heard of the preparations making for her wedding with Sansovino, bow the looms were spinning fine fabrics for her wedding gown and how the most delicate lace was being woven for her adornment. He showed no sign of dissatisfaction. He was engaged most of the day and at times far into the night in a little workshop that he had fitted ■up in his home. When the day for the wedding came Pessero stood at the entrance to St. Mark’s church, where the ceremony was to take place, among a crowd of ■people eager to see the beautiful Francesca del Prombo attired for the bridal. The groom as he passed In saw ith® face of the man who bad aspired ■to bls place wearing the look of a ■fiend. Pessero was on the Inner edge of the crowd, and the two men touched as the procession passed. Sansovino looked away and in another moment felt a sharp pain In his breast. Before he had entered the body of the church he fainted. Horror stricken, bls bride bent over him, endeavoring to recall him to consciousness—all In vain. In a few minutes he was dead. Francesca’s quick eye had detected the malevolent face of Pessero in the crowd, and she was seized with an Indefinable dread. From the moment her lover had sunk down on the marble pavement she divined that he had been stricken by the hand of her rejected suitor. She was carried to the canal, placed In her barge and rowed to the family palace. As soon as she came out of the frantic condition Into which she had been thrown by the tragedy she cried: “He was killed by Pessero!” “Pessero!” exclaimed -her father and mother In a breath. “He was at the church. He rubbed against Luigi as we passed. The flend killed him!” Signor del Prombo consulted with bls most intimate r.-leuds, end It was considered possible for Pessero to have stabbed his victim by means of ft •blade so thin that no blood would flow. iA gurgcoa was directed to carefully «- juntos the body, with a view to discoaisSDg if tbs mark of any tastru-

ment of death had been left upon It The examination was made and the report awaited with intense eagerness, ; "Well," said Signor del Prombo when the surgeon came to report “He was assassinated.” “How? Stabbed?" “Not exactly. A small steel needle was Injected Into the flesh." “How? By whom?” "That I cannot tell." “Was death caused by this lnstn> . ment?" “There may have been poison on It” “Could you detect poison?” "There were no traces of anything I on the needle.” I The Del Prombo family were sure that the needle had In some mysterL ; ous manner been Injected by Pessero ■ Into the breast of the murdered man. ■ j But who was to give evidence of the 1 fact? Nor were the courts of that ■ time overburdened with justice. More , than that, the detective methods of the ; present day were then unheard of. So j there was nothing to do but suffer and j permit the murderer to go his way. Francesca, feeling that her life had i been blighted, decided to go Into a I convent. The palaee of St. Mark's and I Its gay company knew her no more. ■ She disappeared entirely from the ■ world. One day not long after her retire- ■ ment Pessero succeeded under the guise of a mendicant In gaining access to her. Before she was aware of It she was In an apartment alone with the murderer of her lover. Throwing off his disguise, he knelt at her feet and Implored her to take pity on one wno loved her better than life. He was greeted with a look of hot- . ror, of detestation and with but one word: “Murderer!” He attempted to plead, but Francesca raised a cry for help, and In a moment the room was filled with nuns. Pessero, foiled, slunk away. But as he departed he gave Francesca a look that froze her soul. It was love changed to hate, and with It was mingled triumph. He bad no sooner gone than Francesca quickly placed her hand on her breast The expression on her face told those about her that something serious had happened. Then she began to tear open her bodlee, and there on her bosom was a drop of blood. In a word she told them that she bad been stabbed by the man who had killed her lover. A surgeon who attended the nuns When they were ill happened to be in. the convent at the time. He was hurried to Francesca. In as few words as possible he was told that something was doubtless underneath the tiny wound, and he probed for It. In a few moments be extracted a steel needle. By this time Francesca was losing consciousness from the effects of the wound, and the surgeon, believing that the needle had been poisoned before being injected, used such antidotes as he was acquainted with. For several hours Francesca’s life hung in the balance; then slowly she began to revive and in a few days was restored. In the present case Pessero was known to have been with his intended victim at the time she was stricken, and this, taken with the circumstances of Sansovino’s death, was strong evidence against him. Francesca’s father had concealed the cause of the death of Sansovino and the suspicion that rested on Pessero. Desirous of getting other evidence, he directed that the murderer should be kept In Ignorance of what was known of his methods. Pessero. who had stricken Francesca In a moment of passion and knew from her greeting that the circumstances connected with the two tragedies would be sufficient to convict him, fled. Signor del Prombo no sooner learned that his daughter was out of danger than he sought Pessero. Not finding him and learning that he had been seen pulling In a boat for the mainland, Del Prombo followed, caught the murderer and, single handed, brought him back to Venice. Pessero was thrown Into prison and bls home searched. There In his workshop were found a number of parts which together made up the Implement used in his crimes. It was a large key. In appearance very simple, but really very complex. The handle, being turned, exposed a spring which, when pressed, sent from the other end of the key a poisoned needle of such fineness that It entered the flesh and buried Itself there, leaving no external trace. There Is a bridge In Venice called the “Bridge of Sighs.” It spans a narrow canal leading from a prison to the palace of the doges, where court was held. It is generally supposed that In mediaeval times political prisoners passed over It for trial. It was, however, a passage for common malefactors. Visitors in Venice may now go from the palace over the bridge to the prison and down into Its dungeons. In one of these dungeons Pessero was confined. He passed over the “Bridge of Sighs” to his trial and, after his conviction, passed back over the same bridge to await his execution. It Is said that Francesca, whose life he had turned from one of happiness to a cloister existence and who had, under the Influence of the sisters, been turned to piety, wished to petition the court to spare Pessero’s life, but was dissuaded from doing so by the mother superior on the ground that the church . did not Interfere with justice. Pessero I was hanged. Francesca never left the convent In which she had sought a retreat when the world paled before her. After the death of her father she Inherited a fortune, which she gave to the poor. 1 The waters of the Grand cmal wash the steps leading to tho pah ce of her family, but it Is now ocetpied for commercial purposes. The glory of Venice and her former home hare vtastahed. I

T THE BRASS BOX, It Brought About the Speedy Marriage of the Lovers. By CLARISSA MACKIE. (Copyright, 1810. by American Press Association.] The curio dealer weighed the brass box In his outstretched hand. i “It weighs all of a pound, sir," he I said to Hayward. "I bought it ten I years ago from the estate of a French antiquary with a lot of other stuff. No ; one seems to care for IL although I’ve j offered It for almost nothing. It really Is a paperweight You see there is no lock or hinge. It is merely a lump ! of brass shaped somewhat like an an- ■ clent chest. If you care for it you can ' have It at your own price. It may InI terest you to know that It was once j owned by”— He leaned forward and ! whispered a few words In his cusI tomer’s ear. “I’ll take It.” said Hayward promptly. “I thought you would.” said the . dealer with a nod as he wrapped the , brass box into a neat package. Once In his own rooms Hayward examined the box with Interest It was. as the dealer had said, merely a lump of brass roughly molded Into the shape of an ancient chest. The tracings that had once outlined false locks and hinges and nail studded bands were almost obliterated by dirt and discoloration. Restored to its original bright- ; uess. it would make a unique paperj weight for Lis desk. He would reserve the cleaning of the brass box, as he chose to call IL for a rainy evening. Some night when he was not due at Edith’s—those evenings were the dullest of the week—he would restore the brass box. Ten days afterward the rainy evening found him smoking a pipe before a cozy fire. The brass box was within easy reach of bls band, and near by was a drawer full of rags and oil and various chemicals, so he spread a newspaper on the floor and fell to work. Little by little the discoloration yielded to bls efforts until at last the brass box shone forth In the splendor of Its primal luster, beautiful Indeed. Hayward admired the delicate engraving that the acids had revealed, and as he turned the box over In his hands the conviction grew upon him "'il 'fit 5 hi I. .IL "I can’t do it,” he said frankly. that the piece of brass had been Intended for some other purpose than that of weighting plies of documents. If the curio bad really belonged to that beautiful woman, a favorite of kings and whose lightest words had changed the destiny of an empire, as the shopkeeper had hinted. In Itself It was valuable as a souvenir of the most famous woman of her time. With his penknife be Idly scraped dean the tracery of a little circle drawn on one end of the box. It was perhaps a quarter of an Inch In diameter, and In the center of the circle was a dot. The circle and the dot formed part of a similar decoration that ran around the ends and sides of the box. As he worked it appeared to Hayward that this circle was different from Its fellows: the line was more deeply Indented than the light tracery of the others. As he realized this the young man pursued his labors until the point of a fine blade could be Inserted to the depth of an eighth of an Inch in the aperture. Examination of the other end of the box revealed the same conditions in the center circle of the row. After diligently cleaning the second circle Hayward now had before him what appeared to be a small round rod running from one end of the box to the other, yet so tightly wedged In as to be Immovable by ordinary means. The purpose of this rod was yet to be determined. Its presence there convinced him that the box was indeed a box. He placed it in his vise and with hammer and tools prepared to force the rod out of the box. It was long after midnight when It suddenly yielded to his efforts and fell to the floor Hayward picked It up and carried It to the lamp. It was a small steel cylinder four Inches in length, capped • on either end by the circle of brass. It was the work of another hour to 1 pry out the rusted cap from one end ■• and reveal a hollow cavity. :, From the cavity there dropped a f small roll of stiff parchment, yellowed t with age and much creased and wo?n. - Heyward’s fingers trembled as he unfolded with reverent fingers this mls-

al vs that had come so strangely to him out of a dead century. His face paled as he saw the royal crest that topped the sheet and the kingly signature that followed the finely written words. The letter was in French, and as he read the tender, endearing epithets to this woman whom a king had loved Hayward realized that into his alien hands had fallen a great secret which, if revealed, with its hint of plot and counterplot, would prove the literary sensation of a lifetime. He had but to go forth and say: “See what I have found in an old brass box picked up in an auction room. It is a monarch’s autograph letter to bis sweetheart. It Is as simple and pure In its tender sentiment as a letter that you or I or any other commoner might write, and yet it contains a secret which the world would snatch at eagerly, a mystery for which historians have probed In vain, a doubt which has inspired a mighty volume of speculation! It is here. How much am I offered?” If he published his find to the world It meant riches to him. It meant more than enough to marry upon and be happy. Edith had waited two years for him to make good the promise of his brilliant college career. Another year or so of upward struggle and he would have arrived nt his desired goal. But if In those years he might have Edith by bis side! If he published the letter he had found in the brass box he would be rich. They could be married Immediately. Not one man in a hundred would have hesitated, yet Robin Hayward did. He was the exceptional man. He carried this problem, as he had many others, to Edith herself. The next evening found him explaining his purchase of the brass box and the wonderful secret It contained. Edith Layton brooded over the royal love letter with tender eyes, “That is real love, Robin,*' she said at last, “The poor woman must have treasured the letter. See bow It Is worn and creased with much reading. She could never bear to part with 1L and so she bad this box made with the secret cylinder in which to conceal her precious possession. She would not have dared keep it otherwise, and possibly she hoped it would be burled with her.” Hayward nodded. “She died suddenly, you know.” “She probably did not realize that she might be leaving the letter for posterity to scoff at. I know you feel just as I do, Robin. If it would do any good to the world, if It taught a lesson or added to the world’s literature —but it does not! What shall you do with It?” Her question came directly at him, as he knew It would come. Her clear gray eyes sought his anxiously, as if she doubted whether he might withstand the temptation. Hayward stiffened In hts chair. “I am tempted to sell it for money, for a price that will enable me to offer you a home worthy of you. That Is what I want to do,” he said bluntly. She made no reply. She knew the temptation that assailed him, and she knew the struggle he was making against his better principles. No man had greater pride In the fruits of his personal endeavor than Robin Hayward. She wanted him to prove his capabilities, not to purchase an easy road to fortune through bartering the frailties of persons long dead. She wanted him to fight a tight and come out victorious. “We could be married at once,” said Hayward, rising and going to her with outstretched hands. She placed her bands in his. “We could,” she said slowly. “Do you mean IL darling?" he eried ecstatically. “Yes, Robin." Five minutes later he was on his way to the door. “I am sure Latham will want the whole thing. You know, he Is writing a history of the French courts, and this will be a *flnd’ for ifim.” He paused abruptly as his glance encountered the stein visage of Edith's grandfather In its glided frame near the door. That sturdy American pioneer, Simeon Layton, had asked no odds of any century save his own. No other hands had helped to pile up the immense fortune that arose like a barrier between Hayward and the girl he loved. High ideals, hard work, pluck and steady application had made him a model citizen and a rich man. With a sudden revulsion of feeling Hayward looked away from the portrait to Edith standing before the fire. She always wore her plainest gowns when Robin came, and now, standing there In her simple white dress, with his modest ring shining alone on her slender hand, she seemed very near within his reach. He would win her by work alone. Every dollar that he earned might null down a dollar of that great wall of wealth that stood between them. “I can’t do IL” he said brusquely. With a single stride he was beside her, and the king's autograph letter fluttered from his hand and fell into the fire. In an inrtant it was licked Into flames and then flew, a gray ghost, up the chimney. ■ “I was sure you’d do thaL Robin,” she said, leaning her head ngalnst his shoulder. “And now, If you like, I ( will marry you any time!” “DearesL I cannot let you. I shall be poor for a year to come, and you will miss all this!”. He flung his hand toward the richly furnished room. “I must work hard and make you a fortune and then”— “You will work hard and build your fortune, and I—l will be yoqr apprentice. We will work together. Think how sweet that will be!” “And we will keep the brass box for a mascoL” he said.

A Masquerade J Stary as the Eighteenth Century. By EDITH B. GOLD WIN Copyright, 1810, by American Press Association. “For shame! You. the son of an earl and a member of one of the proudest families in England, to make a highwayman of yourself. Our betrothal Is at an end. Leave me.” The Hon. Alfred Tillotson, younger son of the Earl of Enderby, withdrew without offering a bit of defense, keeping bls face while retreating toward the Lady Clara Travis, the plume of his hat trailing on the floor. BuL though his bearing was humble, he was not without hope. Did be not know by her heightened color, the tremor in her voice, even a slight moisture in her eye, what she suffered In dismissing him? But would her heart triumph over her resolutions? Clara Travis was not a prude. She was. a light hearted girl who could dance till morning at a ball, ride across country, taking fences and ditches by the way. but she would never stoop to Injure even an enemy. Indeed, men said of her that her standard of honor was that of an honorable man. Months passed, and Tillotson saw no alteration in Lady Clara’s treatment of him. He looked in vain for the slightest sign of relenting. But if she grieved she did not believe In seclusion. She bunted, danced, played at cards with no trifling stake, just as she had done before her disappointment. Tillotson when he met her looked in vain for even recognition. She paled or colored slightly at his approach, but evidently considered one who had taken purses even for amusement unworthy of her acquaintance. When months had passed and there was no reconciliation the lover became despondenL During this |>erlod. the latter part of the eighteenth century. Venice set the fashion In ail matters of amusemenL just as under the second empire in France Paris set the fashions in woman’s dress. From the City of the Sea a mania for masquerading and gambling spread over Europe. In London people were accustomed to go about to gambling and dancing houses, and matters finally came to such a pass that the city government decided to raid a notorious dance house in Soho. A few hours before the raid was made the lord mayor, dining at a fashionable club, revealed the proposed descent to a companion. The latter begged to be permitted to accompany the force sent for the pur pose disguised as a policeman, and I leave was given. By the lord mayor’s order be was enrolled and uniformed as a special policeman. Revelry was in full swing at the dance house when a policeman, followed by others, entered the place, locked the door behind him and posted a man at each point of egress with orders to permit no one to pass ouL Nearly all those present were masked. The dance came to a sudden halL the dancers standing stock still in their places. Then the officer of police called: "All unmask.” Some endeavored to pass the policemen at the points of exit, but were driven back. Some endeavored to hide under the furniture or behind curtains, but they were pulled ouL It was a slow process, but one by one they were all pushed on to the open floor and forced to uncover their faces. What was the amazement of the police to discover that at least a third of the company consisted of ladles and gentlemen of the highest aristocracy. A policeman stepped up to a lady, furious at her exposure, her eyes snapping, her foot stamping the floor, and. doffing bls hat respectfully, said to her: “My service to your ladyship. I've come to ask which is worse, taking purses on the highway or frequenting low dance houses?" The lady looked at him, stupefied for a momenL then exclaimed: “Alfred Tillotson, what does this mean?” “That a highwayman has Joined the police. You would not have me as a lawbreaker, so 1 became one of those whose business it is to punish lawbreakers." "How dare you speak to me when I have persistently cut you?” she cried angrily. "Clara. I can get you out of this." “Ob. Alfred!” “I knew you the moment I entered the room. You have not been recog- ! nized. Put on your mask and come with me." Donning the mask and slipping her hand on his arm, the two walked out of the hall and, entering a carriage, were driven away. “Who was your escort to this select party?” asked Tillotson. “Father. I forgot all about him.” “He won’t suffer, being in good company. Nearly all our best families were represented. But, Clara, if one who attends dance houses Is too good i for a highwayman, don’t you think she i could condescend to marry a policeman?” There was no reply. He felt for her hand, found it, and It was not withdrawn. The next morning all London rang with the news that the nobility had attended a dance house in Soho, and many names were mentioned as participants in the festivities. But the | name of Lady Clara Travis was not! among them. She never afterward I j forgot this service of her husband.

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Money for Christmas Don’t let the Christmas stockings of your loved ones go empty simply because you are temporarily short of money. Call on or write to us. We can help you tin them. We will loan you the money in any amount: from $lO M SIOO, on household goods, pianos, organs, teams, fixtures,etc, without removal. You can have from one to twelve months’ time in which to pay it back, in small weekly or monthly payments, as you prefer. $1.20 is the weekly payment on a SSO loan for fifty weeks; other amounts at the same porportion. Remember this: Our dealings are confidential. > ou get the money without delay. Our rates are most reasonable. If you need money fill out the following blank, cut it out mail it to us. Our agent is in Decatur every Tuesday. Naine Address , Ain't Wanted Kind of Security Reliable Privst* H. Wayne loan Company Established 18»A Room $ Bee ' ond Floor, 700 Calhoun Street. « Homo Phono, 83A