Rensselaer Journal, Volume 10, Number 52, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 June 1901 — THE CRIME OF THE CENTURY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE CRIME OF THE CENTURY

BY RODRIGUES OTTOLENGUI,

Author of “An Artist In Crime,” “A Conflict of Evidence,” “A Modem WU*rd/’“Fla*l Proof,” Etc. OapwrigM, UM, bv O. P. Putnam'* Bom. AU right* rttervcd.

CHAPTER XVI. MBS. COOPER’S NARRATIVE. Mr. Mitchel beard Perdlta run up the broad stairway, and he readily guessed that she sought the solitude of her own chamber. A few moments later Mrs. Van Cortlandt joined him in the reception room. He was now quite anxious to get away, and therefore he made his call very brief, pretending merely to have dropped In to ascertain whether he might bring his wife in the evening with the expectation of finding the family at home. Thus he arranged a plan by which he cotlld meet Perdlta again that night without exciting suspicion as to his motive. It was after noon when Mr. Mltchel left the house, and he realized that to accomplish his full purpose he would need to be very active during the next 24 hours. He had arranged for Mrs. Cooper to meet him on the following day, but that had been merely a ruse to find a chance to question her, and now he could not wait. Consequently he returned to the old woman’s house at onpe- , Mrs, Cooper was surprised to see him again so soon, but he easily satisfied her. “I found that It would not do to wait until tomorrow to see you again, Mrs. Cooper,” said he, “as there is another affair of great Importance in which you may be bf assistance to me. In pie first place, however, let me give I you. the amount due you on your pension claim, and you may sign a receipt.” Mr. Mitchel banded her a roll of bills and wrote out a receipt, which the old woman readily signed. This he did in order to establish himself thoroughly tin her confidence. Then he continued: “I want to have a serious conversation with you now about your adopted daughter Lily. She is your adopted child, I believe?”

“Well, you might call hen so,” said Mrs. Cooper, “though I never t6ok out no regular papers. You see, she came to me in a queer sort of way. -But why should I tell you her story?” “I shall explain. I have heard it In part already. But the time has come when I must have the full details In order to save the girl herself?’ “To save the girl herself, to save my Lily! Why, what’s happened?” “Did you know that* Lily had a child?” “Lily have a child—of her own, you mean? Why, man, you’re dreamln! Lily ain’t niore’n a child herself.” * “Nevertheless she has a baby. Listen! There is no time to be lost. As I have said, she has a baby, and this baby was recently abandoned in a graveyard.” “O Lord, 0 Lord! You never mean to tell me that—her own story all over again! Oh, dear! Oh,%deai*! That&pver I should live to see this day! But tvhat could you expect? ‘What’s bred Ur the bone will come; out in the flesh,’ as the sayin goes.” “Exactly, and a saying with much wisdom in it. But you say this Is Lily’s own story over again. Do you mean she was a foundling?” “Yes, a wee little tot of a thing on my own doorstep, wrapped in a shawl. That’s how I found her one bitter cold mornin. But that ain’t the strangest part. I guess I’d better tell you the whole story from beginnin to end—that is, if you’re sure you mean-my girl no harm.”

“On the contrary, I hope that something that you may tell me may aid me to rescue her from a danger which threatens. Rely upon me and keep nothing back.” “Well, It’s 17* years ago, come Thanksglvin, when I wakes up wonderln what I had to offer up thanks for, ’cept that I was alive, and little thanks for that, with my old man burled only three weeks. Anyway, as I was born in the church and bred up to Christian ways, I drops to my knees as I slipped out of bed, and I thanks the good Lord for all his mercies, and I remember that I added somethin about beln content, though he’d took away my old man without never glvin

me a baby to comfort me in my loneliness, for I always had a mother heart, as there’s many another as never gets no babies. I declare this world do seem crooked sometimes. But that’s aside from my story, and I s’pose you’d ruther I’d stick to that.” ‘“Yes, yes! Time is precious. But tell your story in your own way, and we shall get through all the more quickly. Go on.” “You're a gentleman with a deal of brains, now. . If I was made to stick straight to the story, I don’t doubt but What I’d leave out half you’d wish to know. Anyway I’ll do my best. So after my thanksglvin I rose up aud went to the window to let in some light. I raised up the sash to push open the blinds, and what do I see but a most suspicious looklu bundle on my steps. I say suspicious, ’cause, though I never had no babies myself, I’ve tended many’s the one, and I guessed right off that some wretch had put a baby by my door. ‘The Lord be praised,’ I says out loud, though there weren’t no one by to hear. ‘Maybe he’s heard ray prayers, after all.’ So I rushed on enough clothes to go to the door in, and I fetched in the bundle, and when I unpinned the shawl, sure enough, there was a baby, a real live baby, rosy and fat and warm In spite of the hard frost outside.” “And that was Lily?” “That was Lily, sure. I took her to my heart- that day, sir, and she’s had the biggest corner of it ever since, though nowadays maybe she don’t think so. But that’s all ’cause of the drink, which, I own, do get the best of me at times. But then what’s a lone wlddy to do, with times so hard and growin harder day by day. It’s enough to drive a saint to drink, and that’s the truth."

She wiped away a tear with the hem of her dress, which she unhesitatingly lifted for the purpose, and Mr. Mitchel, fearing that her emotion would interrupt her narrative, brought her back to the thread of her story by asking: ’ “Tell me how you came to name her Lilian Vale, Mrs. Cooper.” “Truly that was a strange part of it. I found a paper pinned to her little shirt, and on It was written Vale. As I couldn’t make out anything but a last name from that, I guessed that it must be the family name, though why they should take the trouble to tell that when they was disownln the child was more’n I could make out. But how she came to be Lilian was the strangest part of all. I was playin with the baby and havin lots of fun with her, ’cause she was Just the cutest and prettiest little angel you ever see, when there comes a message to tell me a friend of mine was dyin and would I come over. Well, I didn’t like to leave the baby by herself In my house, so I Just carried her along with me to my friend’s house. And what do you think?” “I do not know. What happened there?”

“Why, just as soon as I took the baby to her bedside and showed it to her she let out a scream you could have heard a mile off. It was her baby!” “Her baby? Impossible!” “That’s what I said when she claimed it, but she would have it she’d a right to know her own child, and I couldn’t deny her that. ’So she told me the story, and it was just another proof of the way men treats us poor downtrodden creatures. She actress when I first met her. You must know I was better off in those days. I didn’t live in no such poverty stricken neighborhood as this. I was in a good house in a good street, and so wav my poor friend. She used to go* off on long trips, and so I never thought anything If I didn’t hear from her in months. I never knew that she'd had a baby till that day when she claimed the one I thought the Lord had sent to me, nor I never had supposed she/was married, which indeed it turnedf out she wasn’t. But that day she told me the whole story—how she’d met a rich young man who was handsome and all that sort of thing. It’s always , that way, you know. They’ve always got a fine face and a long purse, and their beauty fills our hearts, while their presents blind our eyes to the wrong we do. But you know all that without my tellin it to you. It seemed she’d loved this man for three or four years, and then this little one came. She was awfully sick, and after weeks she was just gettin a bit stronger when he comes to her one night—that was the night before Thanksgivln—and he says to her in a cold blooded way, he says, ‘Alice, my girl, what’ll we do with this baby?’ And she ups and says, as brave as brass, ‘l’ll keep it.’ He starts at that, and he says, ‘But think what the world will say!’ ‘I don’t care about the world,’ she answers, ‘so long as you love me.’ Then he said the brutal words that killed her. You mark my words—that man killed that poor girl! She wasn’t more’n 18 when he met her, and she was only* 22 when she died. She paid dear for the little love he gave her. But I must tell you what he said. He took the baby from her side, and he says, ‘Let me see the little brat/ ana ne looks at it awhile, and then he says, ‘What do you call him?’ ‘lt ain’t a him,’ she says, kind of mournful, ’cause it hurt her to see the father didn’t even know about bis own

cmidi ‘xt s a 'gill* sue? wftht on. , 1 think Vtl call her Lily.' 'Why LilyT he says, with a laugh. "Cause she’s so pure and sweet,’ says the mother. 'Pure and sweet, eh?’ says the man. ‘Well, she’il lose all that as she grows big enough to understand what love .is, just as her mother did.* Now, I leave it to you, sir, did you ever hear of anything worse than that said to & woman? For a man to ruin a girl and throw her shame in her face like that when she was lyin sick—l calls it an outrage!” “And I agree with you moat heartily,” said Mr.‘ Mltehdl. “Such a man should be made to suffer.” “Oh, he will! Never you fear for that. And, look you, wouldn’t he suffer now, maybe, if he could know what you’ve told me? Didn’t he lay a curse ou that child, prophesying It would lose its puritj - ? And now she’s grown up ain’t his miserable words come true? How would he like to know that? He’d be a beast if he didn’t wince ! when he heard it. But, after all, so ! many men are beasts there’s no know- ! in.” “Go on with your story, Mrs. Cooper. What happened next?”

“On, It got worse after that! My ; friend began to cry, and he told her to ‘shut her whimperin.’. Nice language, wasn’t it? She tried to stop cryin and was chokin back her sobs that would get out some way when he went at her again. ‘Look here!’ says he. ‘l’ve come here tonight to tell you somethin, and you may as well hear it now as later. You said you wouldn’t mind the world so long as you had my love. Well, you’ve lost my love, so that ends that! You used to be a pretty girl, but you’ve cried so much lately that your tears have washed away your good looks and my love with it. So, now that you understand that, perhaps you’ll think different about the baby. What do you say?’ My friend, she was just struck dumb, she was so stunned at what he said. But after a minute she made out to say: ‘What do you mean? What about baby?’ ‘Well, to make it short,’ he says, ‘this baby is as much mine as yours, worse luck, and I don’t mean to have it botherin me in the future. So I’m goin to take It away.’ Then she cried, and she begged, and she got out of bed and went down on her knees and prayed to him. Buf'he was stone deaf and stony hearted. He just wrapped the baby up, and, pushin her away from him, he went out with it in his arms. She fell back In a faint on the floor, and when they found her of course she was worse. And, what’s more, she never got better again. She died two days later.” “But she had seen her baby again, thanks to you, Mrs. Cooper.” “Thanks to the Almighty Father, you mean. Thanks, indeed! I never comes to a Thanksgivin now but I offer up my praise, reraemberin what happened that day, for who but the Lord led that beast of a man to my door to lay his bundle where it was best for It to lie?” “No doubt you are right,” said Mr. Mitchel. “You know what the Bible says, ‘Not a sparrow shall fall.’ ” “Indeed I do, and many’s the time Bve/thought of the selfsame words. But that’s the way the child got the "name of Lily, or Lilian, which Is the proper way of puttin It. Her own mother gave it to her.” “Strange! Her mother gave her her first name, and her father gave her her last,” said Mr. Mitchel.

“Yes. But that wasn’t his fault. And he didn’t give her his own name neither, which would have been more to his credit” “You mean that his name was not Vale?” “Indeed It wasn’t, though I didn’t know that myself for years afterward. r»M CONTINUED. J

He just wrapped the baby up and went out with it in his arms.