Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1876-09-07

He may find as as glIilelcss as Goldenhair lay.
And oh, when rweary, may zoe be SO blest, !
As to sink to the innocent child to our rest,
And feel ourselves clasped to the Infinite
breast. - III iAirs'o .''+i- Il Anon.
AN OLD LAWYERS STORY.
A great many years ago, when l was
comparatively young man. and still
unmarried, / resided in a certain city
of Pennsylvania, and enjoyed the rep
utation of being the cleverest lawyer
ever known there. 1t is not for me to
say the praise was merited, but cer-
tainly found myself able to discover
loop-holes Of escape for those whom j
defended, which surprised even my
fellow lawyers. possessed those quail
tiles which would have made an excel
lent detective, and was thorough stu
dent of the law. There was no myste-
ry about it, but among the most igno-
rant classes gained a reputation for
more than human knowledge. Per-
haps it was not polite for them to say
that the devil helped me, but they did.
However, l began to tell you about
us y
who owned little house in the su-
burbs of the city. She herself was of
American birth, but her husband had
had been Frenchman, and SO the IT,
tie Madame had been bestowed upon
her. She was now widow, and her
daughter Gabrielle and her son Henri
were her only living relatives. Her
income was but slender, and she eked
1T out by taking few boarders, gen.
orally steady old people who had
known her for many years. These re-
spected and liked her. There had
been two Sudden deaths at her house.
Each time the victim was stranger
who came at night, and was dead in
his bed the next morning. Each time
the jury was divided-some believing
that strangulation was the cause Of
death, some that the man had died in
q 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 limited that
these were strangers, and their trunks,
which contained no one knew what
mount of money and other valuable
rnoperty, remained in Madame's pos
session. No one said she was muir.
deress, but every one said it was very
stsange,' in an odd tone, and no one
since that second death had visited
Madame Matteau.
Imyself-perhaps because / admired
her q great deal, and her daughter
much more-had always insisted that
it was merely coincidence, and that
in a world in which apoplexy and
heart disease were SO common, ii 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, 1t was
published over the city that another
transient boarder had been found dead
in Madame Matteau's house, and that
ehe had been arrested on suspicion of
having murdered him, his watch and
chain having been found in her posses
sion. ~. = ii.!-i.i-
Before / had recovered from the
shock of this terrible piece of news, a
messenger came to me from Madame
Matteau. She desired to see me. of
course went to her at once.
found her id a little room with barred
hearth. The logs had been burnt in
two upon the irons, and .he white ash
ca were scattered over the hearth. Al
most 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 rs
she turned it toward me and held out
her hand.
oh, thank heaven, you have come"
she said; Il know you can save me. Is
1t not horrible? How could 1 kill a
man? Why should 1? To die herri-
bly,, with black faces and staring eyes,
as if some one had choked them? Ugh!
andhe was pretty young man the
night before. Oh, how horrible!'
sat down beside her. took her
hand. Madame Matteau,' I said, be
calm; collect yourself. AS your law
yer, must know all. Tell me, from
first to last, what has happened-what
was said, what was done. II you
1 Ipaused; her black eyes had flashed
upon me. l could not ask her wheth-
or she had any confession TO make. i
saw that she had not, unless she was
the best actress who ever lived. Mad
anne Matteau was innocent of any
crime. l.-. ~,
If you have any suspicions,' 1 added,
tell them to me-
There is no one to suspect sobbed
the poor woman. In the house were
Gabrielle, my daughter, whom you
have seen; old Hannah, the cook; Mr..
and Mrs. Beaucamp, friends Of my
poor, desr husband in his boyhood-|
the best, kindest people; Mr.. Gray, a
very old man, too feeble to leave the
house; poor, deformed Miss Norman,
and the librarian, Mr.. Brassford.
None of these would murder a mouse.
See how kind they are; they remain in
my house; they send them word that
they have no doubt of me. Oh, how
Can anybody:
And this man who begsn.
Yes said Madam Matteau,' / will
ell ysu; be was fair, young, hand
somely dressed; he asked Mr.. Brass
ford at the depot IL he knew of any
one who could accomodate him. Mr..
Brassford brought him home. My on
ly empty room was the one in which
those other two strangers died. could
not bear to put him in there; but Mr..
Brsssford laughed at me. We had
supper afterward. He talked long
time to Gabrielle. 1t was late when
he retIred-late for quiet household.
n n L. A. Il