The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1875-06-18
SELECT STORY.
AN OLD LAWYERS STORY.


Pennsylvania, and enjoyed the reputa,
tion Of being the cleverest lawyer ever
known there. 1t Is not for me to say
the praise was merited, but | certainly
found myself able to discover loopholes
of escape for those whom defended
which surprised even my fellow lawyers
possessed those qualities which would
have made an excellent detective, and
was a thorough student ofthe law. There
was no mystery about it, but among the
most ignorant classes l gained reputa-
ton for more than human knowledge
Perhaps it was not polite for them to say
that the devil helped me, but they did.
However, began to tell you about
Madame Matteau. She was an old lady,
who owned little house in the suburbs
of the city. She herself was of Ameri-
can birth, but her husband had been a
Frenchman, and so the little Madame
had been bestowed upon her. She was
now a widow, and her daughter Gabri-
ella and her son Henri were her only
living relatives. Her income was but
slender, and she eked it out by taking a
few boarders, generally steady old peo-
pie who had known her for many years.
These respected and liked her; but the
city generally had a prejudice against
her. There had been two sudden deaths
in her house. Each time the victim
xuh hO Of nfubf
and was dead in his bed the next morn
ing. Each time the jury was divided
some believing that strangulation was
the cause of death, some that the man
had died in a fit.
1t was terrible thing that two such
deaths should have occurred beneath her
roof. Madame's friends pitied her. The
rest of the little world hinted that these
were strangers, and their trunks, which
contained no one knew what amount of
money and other valuable property, re-
manned in Madame's possession. No one
said she was a murderess, but every one
said it was every strange" in an odd
tone, and no one since that second death
had visited Madame Matteau.
myself-perhaps because I admired
her great deal, and her daughter much
more-had always insisted that it was
merely coincidence, and that in a world
in which appoplexy and heart disease
were so common, it was no such marvel
that two men should have met sudden
deaths in the same house. But my faith
in the theory was shaken when, one
morning, it was published over the city
that another transient boarder had been
found dead in Madame Matteau's house,
and that she was arrested on suspicion of
having murdered him, his watch and
chain having been found in her posses
sion.
Before had recovered from the shock
of this terrible piece of news, messen-
ger came to me from Madame Matteau.
She desired to see me. OF course | went
to her at once.
She had been taken~to prison, and /
found her in little room with barred
window, and insufficient fire upon the
hearth. The logs had burnt in two upon
the irons, and the white ashes were scat
tered over the hearth. Almost in them
sat Madame Matteau. in her widows
dress of somber black.
She was chilly with grief and excite
ment, and had drawn her chair close to
the fire.
She shook violently from head to foot
and her face was deadly pale as she turn
ed it toward me and held out her hand.
"Oh, thank heaven you have come"
she said; II know you can save me. Is
it not horrible? How could kill man?
Why should I? To die horribly. with
black faces and staring eyes, as if some
one had choked them! Ugh! and he was
pretty young man the night before.
Oh, good heavenl how -horrlble!"
/ sat down beside her. 1 took her
hand. Madame Matteau," said, "be
calm; collect yourself. As your lawyer
/ must know all. Tell me. from first to
last, what appened-what was said,
what was done. If you"
paused; her black eyes had flashed
upon me. l could not ask her whether
she had any confession to make. I saw
that he had not, unless she was the best
actress who ever lived. Madame Mat
teau was innocent of any crime.
"If YOU have any suspicious" / add
ed, "tell them to me-"
"There is no one to suspect" sobbed
the poor woman. In the house were Ga
briella, my daughter, whom you have
seen; old Hannah, the cook; Mr.. and
Mrs. Beaucamp, friends of my poor,
dear husband in his boyhood-the best,
kindest people; Mr.. Gray, very old
man, too feeble to leave the house; poor,
deformed Miss Norman, and the librar-
ian, Mr.. Brassford. None of these
would murder a mouse. See how kind
they are; they remain in my house; they
send me word that they have no doubt
of me. Oh, how can anybody"
"And this man who" / began.
"Yes," said Madame Matteau, 81 will
tell you: he was fair, young, handsomely
dressed; he asked Mr.. Brassford at the
depot If he knew of any one who could
accommodate him. Mr.. Brassford
brought him home. My only empty
room was the one in which those other
two strangers died. l could not bear to
put him in there; but Mr.. Brassford
laughed at me. We had supper after
ward. He talked a long time to Gabri-
ella. 1t was late when he retired-late
for quite household. Hannah had
made fire. She came and told us that
she had done so. He said good night
tAfter he had. gone we found he had
left his watch on the table. He wore it
only with bunch of seals, and he had
been setting it by the clock, and showing
it to us az something very handsome.
knocked at his door to restore it to him.
He had left US but fifteen minutes before;
but he must have been asleep already,