People's Pilot, Volume 3, Number 19, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 October 1893 — M. Philippe Lascelles. [ARTICLE]

M. Philippe Lascelles.

N'lle Orleans.

“Why, what is it, Waring?” asked Cram, anxiously, bending down from his saddle. For a moment Waring was silent. Mrs, Cram felt her own hand trembling. “Can you turn Uie battery over to Ferry and come with me?” asked the lieutenant. “Certainly. Bugler, report to Lieut. Ferry and tell him I shall have to be absent for awhile. Drive on, Nell.” When, five minutes later, Waring wm assisted up the stairway. Cram

lowering on his right, the little party came upon a group of strangers—three gentlemen, one of whom stepped courteously forward, raising his hat in a black-gloved hand. He was of medium height, slender, erect and soldierly in bearing; his sack was dark and oval, his eyes large, deep and, fuU of light. He spoke mainly in English, but with marked accent, and the voice was soft and melodious. “I fear I have intrude. Have I the honor to address Lieut. Waring? lam Philippe LasceHes.” For a moment Waring was too amazed to speak. At last, with brightening face and holding forth his hand, he said: “I am most glad to meet you—to know that it was not you who drove down with us that night.” “Alas, no! I left Armand but that very morning, returning to Havana, thence going to Santiago. It was not untH five days ago the news reached me. It is of that stranger I come to ask.” It was an odd council gathered there in Waring’s room in the old barracks that AprU morning while Ferry was drilling the battery to his heart’s content and the infantry companies were wearily going over the manual or bayonet exercise. Old Brax had been sent for, and came. M. Lascelles’ friends, both, like himself, soldiers of the south, were presented, and for their information Waring's story was again told, with only most delicate allusion to certain incidents which might be considered as reflecting on the character and dignity of the elder brother. And then Philippe told his. True, there had been certain transactions between Armand and himself. He had fully trusted his brother, a man of affairs, with the management of the little inheritance which he, a soldier, had no idea how to handle, and Armand’s business had suffered greatly by the war. It was touching to see how in every

word the younger strove to conceal the fact that the elder had misapplied the securities and had been practically faithless to his trust. Everything, he declared, had been finally settled as between them that very morning before his return to Havana. Armand had brought to him early all papers remaing in his possession and had paid him what was justly due. He knew, however, that Armand was now greatly embarrassed in his affairs. They had parted with fond embrace, the most affectionate of brothers. But Philippe had been seeing and hearing enough to make him gravely apprehensive as to Armand’s future, to know that his business was rapidly going down-hill, that he had been raising money in various ways, speculating, and had fallen into the hands of sharpers, and yet Armand would not admit it, would not consent to accept help or to use his younger brother's property in any way. “The lawyer,” said Philippe, “informed me that Beau Rivage was heavily mortgaged, and it is feared that there will be nothing left for madame and Nin Nin, though, for that matter, they shall never want.” What he had also urged, and he spoke with reluctance here, and owned it only because the detectives told him it was now well known, was that Armand had of late been playing the role of galant homme, and that the woman in the case had fled. Of all this he felt, he said, bound to speak fully, because in coming here with his witnesses to meet Lieut. Waring and his friends he had two objects in view. The first was to admit that he had accepted as fact the published reports that Lieut. Waring was probably his brother's slayer; had hastened back to New Orleans to demand justice or obtain revenge; had here learned from the lawyers and police that there were other and much more probable theories. having heard only one of which he had cried: “Enough,” and had come to pray the forgiveness of Mr. Waring for having believed an officer and a gentleman guilty of so foul a crime. Second, ho had come to invoke his aid in running down the murderer. Philippe was affected almost to tears.

“There is one question I must beg to ask monsieur,” said Waring, as the two clasped hands. “Is there not still a member of your family who entertains the idea that it was I who killed Armand Lascelles?” And Philippe was deeply embarrassed. “Ah, monsieur,” he answered, “I could not venture to intrude myself upon a grief so sacred. I have not seen madame, and who is there who could—who would—tell her of Armand’s —” And Philippe broke off abruptly; with despairing shrug, and outward wave of his slender hand. “Let us try to see that she never does know,” said Waring. “These are the men we need to find: the driver of the cab, the stranger whose name sounded so like yours, a tall, swarthy, black-haired, black-eyed fellow with pointed mustache —” “C’est lui! e’est bien lui!” exclaimed Lascelles-'“the very man who insisted

on entering the private jftt* Armand and I, we clone our affairs that morning. His whispered words make my brother all of pale, and yet he go off humming to himself.” “Oh, we’ll nail him,” said Cram. “Two of the best detectives in th* south are on bis trail now.” And then came Ananias with a silver tray, champagne and glasses (from Mrs. Cram), and the conference went on another hour before the guests went off. “Bless my soul!” said Brax, whose diameter seemed in no wise increased by the quart of Roederer he had swallowed with such gusto—“bless my soul! and to think I believed that we were going to have a duel with some of those fellows a fortnight or so ago!” Then entered “Pills” and ordered Waring back to bed. He was sleeping placidly when, late that evening, Reynolds and Cram came tearing up the stairway, Ml of great news; but the doctor said not to wake.him. Meantime, how fared it with that bruised reed, the lone widow of the late Lieut. Doyle? Poor old Jim had been laid away with military honors under the flag at Chalmette, and his faithful Bridget was spending the days in the public calaboose. Drunk and disorderly was the charge on which she had been arraigned, and, though she declared herself abundantly able to pay her fine twice over, Mr. Pepper had warned the, authorities to keep her under lock and key and out of liquor, as her testimony would be of vital importance, if for nothing better than to send her up for perjury. Now she was alternately wheedling, cursing. coaxing, bribing; all to no purpose. The agent of the Lcmaitre property had swooped down on the dove cot and found a beggarly array of empty bottles and a good deal of discarded feminine gear scattered about on both floors. One room in which certain detectiveTwere vastly interested contained the unsavory relics of a late supper. Three or four empty champagne bottles, some shattered glasses, and, what seemed most to attract them, various stubs of partially consumed cigarettes, lay about the tables and floor. Adjoining this was the chamber which had been known as Mrs. Dawson’s, and this, too, had been thoroughly explored. ’Louettc, whp had disappeared after Doyle’s tragic death, was found not far away, and the police thought it but fair that Mrs. Doyle should not be deprived of the services of her maid. Then came other additions, though confined in other sections of the city. Mr. Pepper wired that the party known as M. Philippes had been run to earth and would reach town with him by train about tho same time that another of the force returned from Mobile by boat, bringing a young man known as Dawson and wanted as a deserter, and a very sprightly young lady who appeared to move in a higher sphere of life, but was unquestionably his wife, for the officer could prove their marriage in South Carolina in the spring of ’65. As Mr. Pepper expressed it when he reported to Reynolds: “It’s almost a full hand, but, for a fact, it’s only a bobtail flush. We need that cabman to fill.” |TO BE CONTINUED. |