Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1876-02-26
THE
ParisiianDetectIve
OR,
A DESPERATE DEED.
ERSKINE BOYD,
AUTHOR OF "THE STOLEN CHILD" "DRlvEs
FROM HOME" &c, &c.
THE
CHAPTER XXXIII.
AN ALIBI.

AN ALIBI.
The dcathless silence that reigned
through the room recalled the magistrate
to his senses.
Clare had fallen into an arm chair. Her
eyes were closed. and through the pale.
parted lips the breath came quickly. He
thought she was on the point of fainting
He stretched his arm out eagerly toward
the bell that was on his desk, and
was just about to strike it, when, by a
quick movement, she stopped him.
"What are you going to do!" she asked.
II thought you were ILL., he stammer-
ed. II was intending to call your gov
erness."
"Oh, it's nothingw she said, smiling.
am only a little upset; that's all. don't
look strong, You know. People think I'm
very dclicnte, because I'm so pale; but |
am strong. What | feel the hardest to
bear is. that | should be forced to make
the confessions l have just made. 1 feel
degraded in my own estimation. A man
like Albert de Valcourt requires no de-
fender; he only requires you to prove his
Innocence"
She rose as she spoke. and advanced to
the door. Monsieur Daburon stopped her
by gesture.
The fact was, to use a common phrase.
he had lost his head. In his alteration,
he had thought it his duty to tell the poor
girl the whole truth, and thus destroy all
the false hopes she had onjured up. A
surgeon Che argued to himsel0, who has
commenced terrible operation, doesn't
leave it unfinished because his patient
screams, an kicks, and cries.
"It's extrem ,!y painful for me, Made
moisclle d'Arlange--" he commenced but
she cut him short.
"fou have said quite enough, sir; any
further remarks from you will be quite
thrown away upon me. If you We're real
ly MY friend, [ would have asked you to
help me in saving poor forlorn
and shipwreclod brother; but | see You
are too husy-you have doubtless score
of other slipwrnuked wrctches to attend
to Goodbye"
The magistrate turned crimson. He felt
very angry at this last insult
Again he stopped her departure; this
time by laying his hand upon her arm.
''Stay, FOR one moment"
She turned, and leaning her back against
the door, stood listening.
"lf you knew the undoubted proofs
that ] have in my hands, he said. in
those cold, concentrated tones, viii h
announced that, whatever provocaton
she might give him, he was deter
mined not to lose his temper-''if You will
allow me even to mention few of them,
l am certain that the false hopes that you
are weaving will fade away into thin air."
"Spcak, them" said Clare. imperiously.
'Iou have given me leave; mind, you
must not blame me afterwards, if l pain
you now" he commenced, nervously.
''Go on said the girl. with an impatient
stamp of her foot.
"Well, amongst the thousand and one
proofs We have against the accused, there
is a special one, which. to my mind, is de-
cisive. The murder was committed the
evening of Shrovc Tuesday, and he abso-
lutely refuses, or rather pretends to for
get, how he passed his time during that
evening. He was absent from home, how
ever, and did not return till two in tho
morning; his clothes were spotted with
mud, and torn in various places; whilst
his gloves were scratched and split, as
though he had been engaged in some
fight or struggle
"Oh, stop. stop!" cried Glare, breathless-
ly, her eyes braming with sudden CLEAN
of joy. "You said, 1 think that it was the
evening of Shrove Tuesday,"
II did,
"Oh, knew l was right! Didn't tell
you he was Innocent"
She clasped her hands as she spoke, ano
then raised her eyes, rs in prayer.
The expression of the most fervent de-
votion and faith, caught by some of the
Italian painters, radiated her pale and
lovely face, whilst she thus stood, in a sort
of ecstacy. rendering thanks to God in
the overwhelming etfusion of her grati-
tude.
The magistrate was so thoroughly put
picture before him.
"Welll" he said, impatiently waiting an
explanation.
"Monsieur Daburon," answered Clare,
"if that is your strongest proof, it exists
no longer. 1ibet de Ialcowrt spent tho
achole Of the evening you mention piM me-"
with you!" stammered the magistrate,
"Yes; with me-"
He was Observation-Disclosures stunned.
"What" he asked; ''the Viscount spent
the evening at your housel Your aunt
your governess - the servants, spoke to,
and saw hm?'
mo; he came and went in secret. He
wished that no one should see him. He
wanted to be alone with me-"
"AhH' said the magistrate, with sigh
of relief.
This sigh signied, IL understand it all
now. 1t beats everything I've come
across! She intends to sacrifice her repu-
tation, in order to save him. Poor child!
poor childH'
This sigh was, however, interpreted in
quite different way by Mademoiselle
d'Arlange. She thought that Monsieur
Daburon WAS surprised and shocked at
her seeing Albert without witnesses.
'1our surprise is All insultr she said.
"Mademoiselle d'Arlange."
"a girl of my blood and education, can
receive her betrothed lover without even
whisper being raised against her, unless
she so far de.rrades herself as to have to
blush that such An interview should have
taken place at all"
These We're the words she said, but at
the same time she was crimson with shame,
with grief and rage.
If II look could annihilate a man, the
unfortunate Monsieur Daburon would
have been annihilated on the spot.
II didn't intend to insult you, made
moiselle," he said, quite humbly. 81 only
meant that l couldn't quite understand
why the Viscount should visit you in SO
cret. when his approaching marriage gave
him the right to come and go in the most
public manner, at all hours and at all
times. l want to know, also, how he got
himself into such dilapidated condition
on thiS ,nr+i,ulor visit in crast;,n.