Jasper County Democrat, Volume 18, Number 23, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 June 1915 — STRANGER [ARTICLE]

STRANGER

He Formed a Plan Which He Carried Out Successfully.

By F. A. MITCHEL

Martin Yalkier was a grape grower In the north of France. Though be lived 200 years ago, his vineyard has remained a vineyard ever since. Martin's daughter, Marie, was a lovely girl of nineteen. In the autumn after the grapes had been gathered and pat through the wine press her father always gave a fete, inviting his neighbors, and Marie, dressed in the costuma.of. the period, was regarded as the prettiest of all the girls who danced in the great room over the wine cellars. One autumn a young man from Paris attended a dance given by Marie’s father, saw her and fell violently in love with her. Marie was pleased to make a conquest of one from the city, but. being a bit coquettish, oniy half encouraged him. However, she at last reminded him that a French girl did not dispose of her hand; that rested with her parents. The young man, taking this for consent, went to Yalkier and asked for Marie’s hand.

"I don’t know you, monsieur,” said Martin, “or anything about you. What is your occupation?” Jules Gamier, the person in question, had not cared to give his real name, and he did not now care to give his occupation. Nor did he wish to admit that -lie preferred to withhold either. The stranger prevaricated. lie said he was an artist, and so he was, for he was a man of great versatility, but this was not his profession. He possessed a gift that had made him celebrated in Paris, though it was not of such a nature as would extend his renown to the provinces. The old man then asked him if he had any fortune, and Jules admitted that he had not more than 20,000 francs ($4,000), which was a beggarly sum to put up for the daughter of a prosperous wine grower. So the suitor was rejected. He said goodby to Marie, who was loath to part with him, for she had been more impressed by him than she had realized. But she could not give herself to him without her father's consent and her father had declined his proposition. Not long after Jules’ departure the wine grower was riding on a road leading through some wooded property he owned and which he thought of clearing to add to his vineyard when he heard a shout for help in a thicket Dismounting, he went to where the sound had come from and found a man who had been stabbed to the heart On looking closer at the body he saw that the murdered man was Francois Mareelle, a former workman in his vineyard, with whom he had had an altercation and whom he had discharged. It occurred to Martin that if caught over the body of Mareelle, with whom he had quarreled, he would be suspected of the murder. He hurried back to his horse and was mounting him when he heard a voice almost beside him say: “What is your hurry, my friend? Wait a bit I have something to say to you. I heard a cry for help a moment ago, and now I find you coming from where I heard it in hot haste. Have you had a fight with any one?” Martin was so impressed with the danger he was in that he stammered in his account of what had occurred. The man proposed that they go together and have a look at the body. Martin reluctantly consented. Indeed, had he beyu guilty of the murder he could not have demeaned himself in a manner better fitted to indicate his guilt. He was pale, trembling, and h's teeth rattled with terror. During the day the body was removed, aud at nightfall gendarmes came to Martin Yalkier’s house and arrested him for the murder of Francois Mareelle, and, there being no jail In the vicinity, he was removed to a neighboring town. The public prosecutor entered a charge against him., and a day was set for his trial. There was never a plainer case based on circumstantial evidence than the state against Martin Yalkier. During his quarrel with Mareelle he had been heard to say, ‘‘Go away from here, and as yon value your life never again set foot on my property!” The man he had met when coming from the thicket testified that he was in great excitement. The trial was brief. Notwithstanding that the accused was a prominent man in the community he waa adjudged guilty and condemned to death.

Martin’s jailer, having little to do, occupied much of his time in working out chess problems, for he had a great fancy for the game and played so well that he could not find an opponent worthy of his skill. One day he was sitting over a chessboard trying to checkmate himself in a definite number of moves when a young man entered. “You are, I beliete," said the newcomer, “the person who has beaten every one of your neighbors at the game you are studying. I have some skill at chess and have sought you out, thinking I may learn something about It from you.” ‘Yon are only too welcome,” replied the Jailer. “There are no chess player* in this town. i have tried all who

pretend to play the game and Have a*?* rived no pleasure from playing with them. You see, I'am reduced to working out problems.” “I, too, sometimes amuse myself in that way” said the stranger, and, drawing a chair to the table on which the board rested, he began to set the .pieces. ■ . f . The first game the jailer checkmated his adversary in j eight moves. The stranger seemed very much pleased with his opponent’s plan of attack and asked him to go over the moves again that he might leqfrn them. In the second game the jailer had more trouble, but in the third he won easily. “I think I would play better for a stake,” said the stranger, and. taking a gold louis from his pocket, be laid it on the table. ’ The jailer looked at the shining piece covetously. He was very poor, but he had enough to cover that lonis. aud he covered it. The stranger played badly and lost Two other louis went on to the table, and four louis were transferred to the jailer. Two more were ventured and lost. The jailer won, and the stranger instead of playing better for a stake pTayed worse." After several hours’ sitting fifty louis had gone from his pocket to that of the jailer. Then the stranger won a game. The jailer doubled the stakes aud lost agaiu. After this the stranger played better and on certain games where the stakes were doubled or tripled won back nearly all lie had lost. The jailer began to get excited. In spite of certain blunders his opponent seemed to be constantly getting the advantage. YYhen at last he saw the fifty shining gold pieces go back into the stranger’s possession he was beside himself with rage.

“I have no further stake.” he said. “Have you not some article," said the stranger, looking about him, “that I would accept for a stake?” But he saw nothing of any value. The jailer urged him to accept certain articles of furniture, but he declined them all. Finally he said: “Have you any prisoners?” “One.” “On what charge is he confined?” “Murder. He is to be executed next week.” - “Ah, a life!” “Yes; a life. The prisoner has offered me money to release him.” “And why did you not accept?” “It would be my ruin.” The stranger seemed lost in thought; then suddenly he said; i “I will give you a chance to win 100 louis without taking any risk. You are a good fellow, and I have learned much about chess from you. I will stake 100 louis against your prisoner that I beat you three games in succession. In the first I will checkmate you in ten moves, in the second in nine and in the third in eight moves." The jailer’s eyes were big with wonder. “If you could do that you would be Gamier, the great chess player of Paris.” “Did I not say I wished you well?” “You are very kind, monsieur.” “Come, write out an agreement to release your prisoner on the terms I have made,” and the speaker began to set the chessmen. This was too much for the jailer The stranger was willing to present him with 100 louis for the instruction he had given him. On the terms it was impossible that he should not win. He had beaten his adversary most of the games. His losses had happened to come on games where the stakes were high. What the stranger now proposed was impossible. When the chessmen were set the stranger placed 100 louis on the table, and the games began. To the jailer’s amazement his adversary checkmated him in ten moves. Perceiving that something was wrong, the beaten man would have backed out, but the stranger reached for the order for the prisoner’s release and held it “Proceed,” he said. “If I lose a game I will give it back to you,” - ~ The jailer’s only hope being in the opponent's failure, he consented. The stranger won. The jailer lay back In his chair and gasped. “Shall we play the third?” asked the man wK" had cojne to learn chess. “No. Ton are Gamier. You can win without moving a piece.” The stranger put the order for release in his pocket and shoved the hundred louis over to the jailer. “I am ruinec ,” said the poor man. refusing to tou :h it The stranger took out a pocket book and drew from it a large number of bills. “Take this,” he said, “and go to Ylrginla. I will remain in your place till you are safely out of France.” That night the jailer and his family disappeared, and the next day the prisoner, Martin Valkier. turned up in Switzerland. One day the man who had won at chess appeared at the dwelling on the Valkier estate. It looked like a house of mourning, for its head had been condemned to die. The stranger on this account was refused admittance. He then sent to Marie a bit of paper dated at Berne, on which was written: Marie—You have my consent to your marriage with the bearer, M. Garnler. YOUR FATHER. Marie came into the room where her suitor was waiting with a face full of anxious wonder. Gamier told her how he had learned of her father's misfortune and how he had laid a plan to free him, admitting at the same time that be was the chess player who had astonished Paris with his skill and adding. “Nour that your father is safe in a foreign country we can bide our time to free him from this imputation.” The real murderer was eventually caught, and after his confession Martin Valkier returned to his home. But before this the lovers had been united.