Rensselaer Journal, Volume 10, Number 51, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 May 1901 — THE CRIME OE THE CENTURY [ARTICLE]

THE CRIME OE THE CENTURY

BY RODRIGUES OTTOLENGUI,

Author of “An Artist In Crime,” “A Conflict of Evidence,” “A Modem Wbeard,” “Final Proof,” Etc. fJNM ftai n D Dbitai/im'a R/rt ia_ All <r4nhfm

rrONTTNUED.] Mr. .\utchei looked down at tier as she stooped over and buried her face in the infant’s clothing and pitied her as he noted her childlike faith hi her lover. This tal. about tlio nurse was so transparent, and yet it had served to satisfy the trusting woman because she loved the man who had thus basely deceived her. “About what time did the old man ?oiue to the ball and quarrel with your husband Y” Inquired Mr. Mitehel. “Somewhere about 11 o’clbck, I should say. It was long before supper, and that was 12.” “And was it When your husband returned to take you home?” “It was about half past “What did I tell you?” Interrupted Colonel Payton. “Do you hear? She is trying to show now that the man had possession of the child and took it away from her house about the time when It was placed'Sn.JJie graveyard. That is the way she hopes to shield herself. Oh, I tell you, women are tricky!" “What do you mean? Who are you?” asked Lilian, rising and facing him. "Whop you say that I am trying to prove that my husband took our baby to that graveyard, you_tell a lie, I say he did not do it. lie would not, he could not, do such a thing.” “No; it was you who did It!” cried the colonel, losing his temper. “That is another lie!” exclaimed Lilian, but more calmly. “Look here, my good woman,” said the colonel. “Keep a civil tongue in your head, or it will be all the worse for you.” Then, turning,to Mr. Mitehel, he aided: “I say, Mitehel, this farce has gone on long enough. I will send for an officer and have this woman taken to the station house.” - “No, no! Sto'p, colonel!” cried Mr. Mitehel, grasping his arm. “I will take her to my own home, and I will be responsible for her appearance when you have found proof of your charges. "Will that be satisfactory?” “Oh, I suppose so!” growled the colonel. “Here, matron, take the baby from her.” “Take my baby from mb!” exclaimed Lilian. “No, no! You shall not.do that! I have found her again, and we shall not be separated!” “You don’t suppose I am going to let you take the child away, do you?” sneered the colonel.

“Then I’ll stay here, too,” said Lilian firmly, hugging the baby-closer to lier breast. \ Mr. Mitehel took tile colonel aside. “Now, Colonel Payton,” said he, “you must be reasonable iuthis matter. I have good reasons for believing that this girl is the victim of a treacherous man who has deceived her. The best course, it seems to me, will be to detain her in the care of your society until our ’evidence Is complete. If you will do this and for a couple of days will hold in abeyance vour formal communication to the authorities, I will promise you decisive news at the end of that time. Will you do this?” “Oh, I suppose I must humor youl” said the colonel, unwillingly consenting. “But it’s irregular, and If anything should go wrong you must bear the consequences.” “I assume all responsibility,” said Mr. Mitehel.

“Then I’ll give the necessary orders to the matron,” said the colonel, walking off. Mr. Mltrth'J went to Lilian and spoke to her gentfji, advising her to remain In the bpilding with her baby, to make no effort to get away and to trust to him to do his utmost In her behalf. He promised to see her again soon, and he went away, satisfied that he had made the best arrangement possible under the peculiar circumstances. Leaving the building, he crossed over to Fifth avenue and walked rapidly up that thoroughfare. He walked because he wished to reflect. lie found tli», problem which engaged his mind assuming a more complicated form than ever. He could readily see how the knowledge which now was his would have more than convinced Mr. Barnes of the correctness of his suspicions against young Mora. The detective would have argued that the

man who had quarreled with his father and had abandoned his own child would scarcely have hesitated to kill his father under the fear of being disinherited. But for the present Mr. Mitehel dismissed that side of the subject from his thoughts. The supposition that Mora was the murderer left much to be explained in connection with the mysterious killing of Slippery Sam and the finding of the will in the young crook’s pocket. Besides, he could not reconcile Mora’s guilt with certain theories of his own which he was not yet ready to abandon. Therefore, despite the evidence which seemed to accumulate against the dead man’s son, Mr. Mitehel considered the case still unproved. But there waa.another matter which interested him in no ordinary degree. The great resemblance between the photographs of Lilian* Vale and his daughter’s school friend, Perdita Van Cortlandt, seemed to invite study. But, having seen Lilian and having closely observed her face, lie was more than ever struck by the likeness between herself and the other girl as he remembered her. Yet it was possible that memory was here playing him a trick. He had not seeu Perdita for nearly a year and so could not now be sure that he was not deceived in fancying the likeness to be so great. Then it occurred to him that there was nothing to prevent his calling at her house. He was sufficiently well acquainted with her family to do this without exciting comment. With Lilian’s features freshly imprinted upon his memory he could thus make a comparison which would be decisive. Half an hour later, therefore, he stood at the door of the Van Cortlandt residence and sent in his name. The servant, not recognizing him as a familiar visitor, ushered him into a small reception room separated from the larger parlors beyond by heavy oriental draperies. While awaiting the return of the man Mr. Mitehel was attracted by a fine Corot which hung on the wall near the portieres and went to that end of the room to examine it. Standing there, he was surprised to hear a voice, which-he instantly recognized, speaking In most earnest tones, in the apart-ment-beyond. “But, Perdita, my darling, you have admitted that you love me! Then why do you hesitate? Can you not trust me, or do you, too, still doubt?” It tyas Matthew Mora who was thus pleading. Tlius another and most unhooked for chapter was added to this case. Mr. Mitehel firmly believed—in fact, could not doubt—that Mora was the father of Lilian’s child. He fancied that there was an unusual resemblance between Lilian herself and Perdita, and here he overheard Mora making ardent professions of love to the latter. Had Mora also noticed the similarity between his little beauty of the slums and this society belle? Was it this which had attracted him to this girl, who was his social equal and whom society would adjudge to be a more fitting companion to him through life? As these thoughts occurred to him Perdita was replying. “How can you think me so contemptible? I have confessed my love for you. Does not that suffice? Do you think that I could care for you and not trust you?” “Then you do believe in my innocence?” pursued Mora. “As I believe in my Maker,” was the girl’s reply, and the worus jarred unpleasantly on Mr. Mitchel’s ear. It was not pleasant to be thus playing eavesdropper, but the events which were rushing one upon the other so swiftly and the very interests of this girl herself seemed to justify Mr. Mitehel in adopting this method of learning the truth. He was therefore glad that the servant did not return too quickly.

The conversation on the other side of the portieres continued. “Ah, you say you believe in my innocence; that you trust me! But, Perdita, when I wish to put that faith to a test, then you shrink. You hesitate to comply with my wishes.” “Ah, but what you ask is so unnecessary! I do not understand why you should make such a request, nor do I think I ought to accede. I owe something to my mother, you know.” “When a woman truly loves a man, she Is ready to give up home, parents and even self to follow his fortunes.” “I am willing to do all that, but I do not see why you should ask me to do so In 24 hours. That Is very sudden.” “Oh, love affairs are always sudden surprises to women I That is what they all say.” “Now you are unjust and unkind.” Her voice trembled a little, and Mr. Mitchel was strongly tempted to open the draperies and chastise this man, who Was urging a girl to do that which her conscience rebelled against. Taking advantage of the young girl’s emotion, which he thought indicated a tendency to yield, Mora pressed his suit with renewed ardor. “My darling, forgive me if I have spoken roughly! But it is because I love you so that I cannot bear to lose you, and something tells me that if I do not win you now, that if I cannot persuade you to go with me, I shall

never call you mine.” “But why? Now you show that you do not trust me. I will wait for your return and be true to you forever,” “Yes, yes! You think so, and you mean what you say. But listen! I must go away. I must leave this detested place, where all my friends regard me with suspicion. No one knows what I have suffered during the last few days. I have been accused of murdering my father, and the law has released me. But don’t you see that until the real murderer is discovered there must be a doubt in the minds of the people"? They are not fully convinced. Unfortunately my father left me a lot of money. Worse yet, there was a will leaving half of the fortune to charity, and that has disappeared. Nine millions thus come to me as sole heir which ought to go to charity. Yet what can I do? If I turn that amount over to charity, people will say, ‘He is trying to buy back his reputation.’ If I keep it, they will say: ‘He profited by the loss of the will. Perhaps he is guilty, after all.’ At any rate, until the mystery be cleared up and my innocence demonstrated to the whole world it is only natural that people should prefer to avoid my acquaintance, So at present I am an outcast,, a social pariah. I am alone in this great city, friendless in spite of my millions. My God, I cannot stand it! I will not stand it! I must get away, away across the ocean, to some remote corner of the world, where’ I can wait till the truth is known or stay away forever. And I think it will lie forever, for something tells me tlmt the murderer will never be discovered, I am a ruined man—ruined, ruined! So you are right to hesitate. You are right, quite right! Ido uot blame you.” He spoke bitterly, and there was a true ring to his words, as though it all came from his heart. Yet Mr. Mitehel could not avoid the thought that just such words as these, just such emotional tones, were best calculated to excite a young girl’s sympathies to the point where 'ishe might overstep the dictates of discretion and take a false step. Before he could hear her reply the servant approached, and Mr. Mitehel went to the other end of the room, that he., might not appear to have been listening, The man announced that Mrs, Van Cortlandt would be down in a few minutes and then withdrew. Mr. =Mitchel hastened back to the portieres, but too late to know just what the girl had said. Mora was -speaking again and very rapidly. “Yes, yes, my darling! I believe that you love me, and I know that I am asking a great sacrifice, Listen! We will compromise, I will let you think it all over alone, If you decide in my favor, take the train which leaves the Grand Central for Boston tomorrow at noon, and when you reach Boston go to the Hotel Brunswick, l will be there, with a clergyman at hand in readiness to marry us. On the following day we will sail for Europe, and then, with our troubles left behind, our happiness will begin in earnest. Think it all over, dearest, and if you decide against me send a dispatch to my house tonight. Just say ‘Bon voyage!’ and I will set out on my journey alone. In any event, I will take the midnight train tonight.” “I will do as you say. I will think it all out alone, but I cannot decide now. I must have a little time. What seems right to me I will do. But if my duty here slioi..J prevent—then you will—you will forgive me?” “Yes, I will forgive you.” “And —and come back for me—some day?” “Just as soon as these clouds blow away.” “You promise me that? For if—if I do not go with you—l will wait for you —forever!” Then, overcome by her emotion, she began to weep, and Mora spoke soothingly to her in loav tones. It seemed probable to Mr. Mitehel that, brave girl though she was, if left tp herself she must eventually yield to the importunities of her heart and forsake her home for this man, whose allegiance was rightfully due to another. He walked slowly to the window which looked out into the street and stood there, endeavoring to determine what course he should pursue. Presently his attention was attracted by the figure of a man partly concealed in a doorway opposite. He watched the man for a few moments and then muttered:

“A spy! Can It be possible that Mr. Barnes is still maintaining an espionage over me?” Just theu he heard Mora leaving the house and saw him descend the stoop. He stood for a second on the pavement, looking sharply up and down. The man opposite, however, had withdrawn so that he was entirely out of view. Apparently satisfied, Mora walked rapidly up the street, turning the next corner. Then the spy came forth and glided swiftly after him. “Ha!” thought Mr. Mitchel. “Mr. Barnes cannot divorce himself from routine methods. Well, if his man keeps Mora in sight, it may be an advantage this time.” fTO SI CONTINUED.}