The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1884-02-09 00:00:00

CHAPTER V.

TRANIC heaven!" he cried. “That is It, is it
iaot P'
"I think so ; but I pushed it into my pocket yes-
lerday, without examining it."
"You may well boast of having no curiosity! It
IS unheard of ! What made you pick the thing up
if you did not look at it?"
"I meant to look at it,but you called me, and I went
into the ctf and your extravagances put everything
else out of my head. Well, now you have it, what
do you make of it."
"It is a letter, my friend?" was the triumphant
answer.

"Without an envelope—and consequently with-
rout an address."

"That does not matter • the let' er will reveal
• much. Let us see. Ah, the devil! she has torn it
• lengthwise nearly in the middle. That bothers one;
• but never mind. They succeeded in discovering the
- meaning of all the cockroaches and birds carred in
the obelisk—more difficult than to guess at the miss-
ing ends of these lines. Besides, there are two of us.
:Now listen!

" Dear.. .—the next word is gone. My Dear
Friend, or My Dear—some.,Christian name. It is a
laity we don't know what, as the gender tells it is
-addressed to a woman."
"By a man, it would seem; the writing is very
masculine." .

" Yes-71i.rm, large, and rather regular. It is not a
commercial hand. Let us see the rest."

"At last we have succeeded. I am sure of my
. . Arrived a month ago. She is lodging Rue
des . . . Goes out little, but sometimes in the
evening . . . Do not yet know who, but . . .
Return to my first project, because it is . . .
Not hesitate. Therefore be good enough to . . .
Arraagem nts. All will be settled before . . .
Word to angone, not even . . : Discovered
that the family fear . . . To-tnorrow, then
dear Z . • ."

"Ah ! the lady's name begins with aZ. That is
one point gained
"And the signature P," asked Freneuse.
"Wanting—torn off "—said Binos, who had been
reading the letter aloud, and stopping at every
break.

" Parbleu, then! It tells you a great deal. The
letter is absolutely unintelligible. All we can learn
is that the dead girl is named &lie, or Zepluine, or
Zenobie, or-"
•• Then you think it was she who lost this
paper ?"
"I am sure I do not know, but if not, who was
?"

"Why the other—the wretch that had the pin.
And would you like me to tell you what she used
this bit of paper for ?"
"To wrap the poisoned end in. It is quite evi-
dent ; see how it is crumpled. The wretch was
afraid of pricking herself, and was cautious accord-
ingly."
" Yes," muttered Freneuse, "and she was
cautious enough to tear down the letter so that no
one could understand a word of it."

"Is that your opinion ?"
"Certainly. What inference can you draw from
these disjointed phrases ?"
"Their meaning to me is as clear as if they were
-complete," said Binos.
"Then be good enough to explain it, for I do not
grasp it at all."
"Because you have not taken the trouble toreflect.
Nevertheless you could see one thing; namely, that
' the letter was written by a man to a woman."
"Whose Christian name begins with a Z? There
-is no doubt about that but what then? What does
it all mean ?"
"To send into the other world the poor innocent
girl who is at this moment stretched out at the
Moreme---"
"Where' do you read that F"
"In every line. I will go over it again, and bring
the thing home to you. The note begins with
these words: last we haresueceeded.' That Means:
' the moment for action has come. Arrived a month
ago '— who ? Evidently the girl. Well, that tallies
'With our supposition; she is not French. I have
had a good look at her, and our pale sunshine never
produced her rich colour."
"That is true," said Freneuse, " she is more like
-a Spaniard."
"Agreed. If you like we will say she came from
the depths of Andalusia. What does she want here ?
The writer of this letter knew, no doubt, and his first
care has bean to poison her. He assured himseli
first of a'l that she went to see—whom? He is not
certain, but, sufnce it, that she went somewhere—he
had a plan that must be carried out without delay.
We know what it was—the prick with the pin. He
goes on to say all will be sef:led before;' there is a
sentence which shows his position. lie is acting,
Upon orders; acting for someone else. The scoun-
drel is nothing but a hired assassin. They will--'
Who can acy he? Probably some person or r ersons
- interested in the suppression of the girl, and toc
prudent to compromise themselves."
"Yes," said Froneuse, "you reason well; but you
have not advanced very far; all this is meat
vague."

"Pardon me: at the second line there is some-
thing rather definite. She is lodging-' She it
'certainly the girl who has arrived. She is lodgin.9
Rue des -t,
"'Well, the name of the street is missing. Dc
• you hope to guess it? That is absurd 1"
"Note this, my dear friend, it is not Rue de, but
Rue dcs that facilitates my research. How many
streets are there in Paris called Rue des?' Nut

• many, are there P"
"You are quite mistaken—a very great many.
-could cite you a dozen at once. Rue des ..ermandiers.
Rue des 80,18 Enfants. Rue des Blanco Monteaux--"
"Enough, enough! I don't want you to quote
Bottin's Almanack from beginning to end. I prefer
-oceisulting it at my leisure. Whatever you may say
there can't be more than fifty such streets. I shall
inspect them all. I will go from door to door asking
if a young person has been missed."
"'And at the end of three or four months you
may perhaps succeed in discovering, something,"
said Freneuse, shrugging his shoulders. "It would
-be far simpler to make over the torn letter and the
Pin to the commissary of police, who, with the
--means he has at his disposal, wouldpromptly ascer-
tain the victim's domicile."
"Very good. Then you will accompany me to
-the magistrate ?I'
"I ? No thank you. I have aiready told you I
'lave no time to waste."
"As you please; but I can do nothing therewith-
-out you. I mean nothing official. If I present my-
self before the commissary I must tell him where I
-obtained the articles I bring; also he must be made
-acquainted with your cat's death. I should think
.he would insist upon seeing Mirza's body. They
will ha e a_post mortem examination of the poor
beast."
" Not if I know it," cried Freneuse. "I will not
have my cat dissected. It is bad enough that you
have killed him."
"Then it is quite useless for me to see the com-
missary or to give him any information," replied.
Eines. "You cannot have omelettes without break-
ing eggs. If the affair is turned over to the police,
You must submit to be questioned often and
-minutely."
"That is just what I will not stand."
"But you will have to, no doubt. At present no
'one suspects a crime,- so you have been left in peace,
but if the poisoning of Mirza is made known, the
aspect of affairs will (Ilan directly. Experiments
will be made with the pin upon other animals—dogs
and rabbits will be sacrificed; the doctors will write
long reports about the effects of curari ; and no one
will doubt thatthe girl in the omnibus was murdered.
Agents will be set to work, and as you alone
happened to notice the murderess and her accomplice,
YOU will most certainly be requested to accompany
the officers of justice on their expeditions in order to
identify the criminals, if they should ever succeed
in unearthing them."
"Come now. All that would not be expected
of a private individual. You are trying to fool me."
"I admit I may have slightly overdrawn the
Picture ; but you may depend upon it you would be
called upon every time they laid hands on a likely
person, either man or woman. You would have to
decide for or against their release."
"Charming prospect! To be for ever at the beck
and call of the police. No, no. Do as you like,
uly dear friend; all I yak is, do not mix me up in
any part of the business."
"Then_ you will trust me with the pin and the
.btter ? You will give me carte blanche and will
.L 0 question or try to control my actions?"'
"Certainly not! But on one condition only—
that you will keep me well informed."
"You may depend on that. I ehall devote myself
to hunting down the scoundrels, and, as I see you
every day, I shall let you know exactly how I
I,rogress. Well, that is settled then, and we will
Aisoense with the conecabssa,..,..,
-IYes. And yet—"
What now?"
•" I wonder whether we have any right to keep
what we know to ourselves? The duty of every
good citizen is to further the ends of justice; and
you are going, as the saying Yb to hide a light under_
bushel."

"I beg your pardon. I mean to further the ends
justice very considerably when the right time
comes—that is to say, when I have got hold of the
worthy p-dr. Justice will be greatly in my debt,
for I shall prepare all her work. Why, the trials
Of these blackguards will be half accomplished by
the time I do iver them up
." In good sooth, Ido aduiiire you! you. Lave such
.entire confidence in your own abilities! Of course
You mean to undertake the job single-handed ?" "Not quite. I resgeote ell the qualities of a
daorough-bryd bloodinued, but I need jrnctiôe. At
first sturting I want a gu de, a tutor,not fort,he grand
Prine'ples--4 know those by instinot--but to show
toe the tricks of the trade, and I know iust where to
end my man."'