Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1860-10-05

detail had been omitted. | was thunder
struck at this strange revelation.
Near the we'll were two judges At
their feet was the old woman, lying on her
back, her lorg gray hair struggling over
her fc1m. her face 1iyid, her eyes unnatu-
rally wide, her tongue between her teeth.
1t was horrible spectacle
''Well !" said Van Spreckdal. in solemn
tone, what Lave you to say?''
I was silent.
''Do you confess that you threw this wo-
man, Theresa Becker, into this well, after
having struggled her, that you might steal
her money?''
''Non' | cried, ''no I do not know this
woman. Ihave never seen her. My God
help me
''That is enough y he replied, in very
dry voice, and departed with his compan-
ion. I was carried back TO prison in
state of profound stupidity. | knew not
what to think. My conscience, even, be-
gan to trouble me. asked myself if l had
not really assassinated the old woman. |
passed wretched night Of doubt, bewil-
derment, despair.
With the dawn some of my black thoughts
disappeared I felt more confidence in my
self, and at the same time, a desire to see
what was going on in the world without.
Other prisoners before me had climbed to
the narrow aperture. They had dug holes
in the wall, that they might mount more
easily. I climbed there in my turn, and
when, stretching my neck forward, saw
the crowd, the life, the movement, tears
flowed abundantly down my cheeks. l
thought no longer of suicide. | experien-
ced the strongest desire to live. They
might condemn me to the hardest labor,
might attach a cannon ball to my leg if
they would only let me live; to live was
to be happy.
The old market opposite my window,
with its roof like an extinguisher resting
on heavy pillars, offered a fine spectacle.
The old women, seated by their baskets of
vegetables; their cages of poultry and
baskets of eggs behind them; the Jews,
old clothes dealers. with faces the color of
box-wood the butchers with naked arms,
chopping meat at their stalls the peasants
with large felt hats planted on the nape of
the neck, their hands behind their backs,
and smoking TRANQUILITY their pipes; then
the noise, and tumult of the crowd, the
tones of the voices, the expressive gestures,
the unexpected attitudes, which betrayed
at distance the progress Of a dispute, or
paint the character of an individual-all
this captivated me and in spite of my
sad position, l felt happy to be in the
world.
While [ was looking on a man passed,
with his back bent, bearing an enormous
quarter of beef on his shoulders. His
arms were naked, his elbows in the air,
and his head inclined on his breast. His
floating hair, like that of Salvator's "Si-
cambre," concealed his face ; and yet, at
the first glance, a thrill ran through my
veins.
at is he - [ exclaimed.
The blood rushed to my heart. | de-
scended into my cell. My whole frame
trembled
at is he I stammered, with half
choked voice. 'He is there-there-and
II am about to die to expiate his crime
What shall | do? what shall | do?''
A sudden thought from heaven inspired
me. I put my hand into my pocket-my
crayons were there. Then, spr,nging to
the wall, I began to trace the scene of the
murder with almcst supernatural energy,
No more uncertainty; no more hesitating
experiments. [ knew the man. | had
seen him. reproduced him before me.
At ten 0 clock the jailor appeared in my
cell. His owlish stupidity gave place to
admiration
SIS it possible y he cried, standing on
the Threshold.
''Go, seek my Judges I said, pursuing
my work with increasing exultation.
''They are waiting for you in the Grim
inal ball. !" he replied.
Il wish to make some revelation | con-
tinued, putting the last touch to the mys-
terious parsonage.
In few minutes the two judges came.
They looked on stupefed With one hand
extended to the picture, and trembling in
every limb, called out !:
There is the assassinl"
Van Spreckdal, after moment silence,
asked his name.
Il do not know it, / answered "but he
is there now in the market, in the third
stall at the left, chopping meat"
"What do you think of it, said be, turn
ing toward his colleague.
LET them find the man," replied the
other, in grave tone.
Some of the keepers went out to obey
the order. The judges remained standing
looking at the picture. I sank down upon
the straw, with my head between my knees,
exhausted with excitement.
The noise of steps beneath the resound-
ing arches of the corrlder aroused me-
The man entered Van Spreekdal pointed
in silence to the picture, He looked at it
a moment, turned pale, then with a roar
which chilled US with terror, he struck out
his enormous arms, and with one bound
was out of the door. There was fearful
contest in the corridor. We heard the
painting respiration of the buthcher, low
imprecatious, brief words. and the sound of
struggling feet. It was over. Tie man
re-entered. His head was bowed; his
eyes blood-shot his hands bound behind
his back He fixed his gaze once more on
the picture, appeared to reflect, then, in
voice, as if speaking to himself, he said :
s'Who could have seen me?-at mid
night !"
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