Litchfield enquirer., 1860-06-07

pull OA StOcklDSS HI drawer, thinking al the time of something else. looked around my cell. It had been newly white-washed and there was nothing upon the walls but a rude sketch oe gibbet, drawn by my ore. decessor. The light came from an aperture nine or ten feet from the floor, and the fur. niture consisted of head of straw. I sat down upon the head of straw, with my hands around my knees, and gave myself up to de. spair. I had killed Rapp. He had de. nounced me before dying. I should be hung as his murderer. started up coughing, as if the hempen cravat already pressed my throat.
 Again the jai!or appeared, and ordered me to follow him. He conducted me through long galleries to sombre hall, with benches arranged in semi-circle, opposite which, on an elevated seat, were two persons, with their backs to the light, and their faces in shadow :; but as one of them turned to his companion, I recognized the aquiline profile of Van Spreckdral, Beneath them, at a low table, was seated clerk, tickling the tip of his ear with the feather of his quill. "Christian Venius," said Van Speckdral, "wbere did you get this sketch ?" showing me my nocturnal work, of which they had taken possession at the time of my arrest.
 "I am the author of it." There was long silence. The clerk took down my answer and as listened to the scratching of his pen, I wondered what that had to do with the kick l had given Rapp. You are the author of it,l" said Van speckdral. Where did you get the sub- ject 2"
 "It is fancy sketch"
 Have you not copied the details any where 2"
 No, sir; have imagined them all."
 And this woman," pursued the judge, who is murdered on the edge of the we'll :; have you imagined her also 7"
 " Undoubtedly"
 You have never seen her ?'
 "Never"
 Van Speckdral rose, as if indignant then seating himself, he appeared to consult his colleague in low voice. Suddenly he said to the jailor:
 "Take the prisoner 10 the carriage. We arc going 10 the Metz retrasse"
 l was placed in carriage with two po- licemen. One of them, on the way, offered a pinch of snuff 10 his comrade. I extend ed my fingers mechanically to the box. He drew it quickly back. The blood mounted into my face, and 1 turned away my head to conceal my emotions.
 :" If you look out of the window" said the man of the snuff box, i've shall be obliged to put manacles on you"
 When the carriage stopped, one of them a|ighted, while the other held me by the collar {; then, seeing his comrade ready to receive mo, he pushed me out rudely. We entered narrow alley, with broken, irregu- lar pavcments. A yellowish moisture stood on the walls, exhaling fetid odor I walk cd in darkness, with two men behind me. Farther on appeared the l:ght of an interior court.
 AS advanced, feeling of terror took possession of me, like tine unnatural horror of nightmare. I rccoiled instinctively.
 Go on l" cried one of the policemen be- hind mo, putting his hand on my shoulder " march !"
 My terror was no longer instinctive, when saw before me the court which I had sketched the night before it's walls gar nished with hooks, the wood pile, the ladder, the rabbit hut, the hen-coop, etc. Not sky-light, great or small high or low, not a cracked window-pane, not single detail had been omitted I was thunder-struck at this strange revelation.
 Near the we'll were the two judges. At their feet was the old woman, lying on her back, her long, grey hair struggling over her form, her face livid, her eyes unnaturally wide, her tongue between her teeth. It was a horrible spectacle
 "Well Y said Van Speckdral, in sol emn tone, "what have you to say ?"
 was silent.
 "Do you confess that you threw this wo- man, Theresa Becker, into this we'll, after having strangled her, that you might steal her money ?"
 "No Y I cried, "no I don't know this woman. 1 have never seen her. May God help mo P
 "That is enough" he replied in dry voice, and departed with his companion. was carried back to the prison in state of profound stupidity, knew not what to think. My conscience, even, began to trouble me. I asked myself if I had not really assassinated the old woman. passed a wretched night of doubt, bewilderment and despair.
 With the dawn some of my black thoughts 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 it more easily. I climbed there in my turn, and, when, stretching my need forward, saw the crowd, the life, the movements, tears flowed down my cheeks thought no lon ger of suicide. I experienced the strongest desire to live. They might condemn me to the hardest labor, might attach cannon ball to my legs, 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 fine spectacle. The old women, seated by their basket of veget- ables. their poultry and baskets of eggs be- hind them the Jews, old clothes dealers, with faces the color of box-wood the butch CTS, with naked arms, chopping meat at their stalls the peasants, with large felt hats planted on the nap of the neck, their hands behind their backs, and smoking tran quilly their pipes then the noise, the tu- mutt of the crowd. the tones of the voice, the expressive gestures, the unexpected atti- tudes, which betray at a distance the pro gress of dispute, or paint the character of