The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1877-11-27
THE MISSING PEDDLER.

ON THE evening of September 10,
" 1858, Pablo Mortlone,a peddler trad
ing among the scattered villages of the
French and Spanish Pyrenees, applied
for shelter from an approaching storm
at the house of Antonio Maschez, a
small farmer, who lived couple of
miles from st. Pol de Leon, in the An
dorre Pass. He was we'll known to the
farmer, as indeed he was to every one
else for twenty miles around, and met
with cordial reception from both Mas
chez and his wife, stalwart Cordovan
woman, who ruled her husband and her
household with rod of iron. Both, in
deed, professed extreme pleasure in see
ing him, and with true mountain hospi-
tality made him welcome to the best the
house afforded.
While awaiting the preparation of sup
per in the great kitchen of the farm
house, Mortione whiled away the time
by displaying the contents of his pack
to the little daughter of his host and
hostess, and the mother in more than
one instance neglected her cookery to
feast her eyes, sparkling with cupidity,
upon the gorgeous fabrics, the gaudy
handkerchiefs, flashy jewelry, and host
of other attributes of the peddler's stock
in trade.
When at last supper was announced,
she devoted herself to minute inspec-
ton of the pack while its owner satisfied
the cravings of his appetite with an
ample meal. That over, he bundled his
stock together, and pleading the weari-
ness of long days journey, went to bed
on the floor of the next room. The little
girl also retired to her pallet in a remote
corner of the same apartment
Shortly after, Maschez, who had gone
out to secure his cattle from the storm
and split some billets Of firewood re-
turned. He bore an armful of wood and
heavy hatchet with which he had been
cutting it. He found his wife pacing
restlessly up and down the kitchen,
every now and then pausing at the door
of the bedroom to listen to the heavy
breathing of the tired peddler, already
fast asleep, with his precious pack for
| pillow. AS he threw the wood noisily
into the fire place, she turned upon him
with a warning gesture.
Cdramba! Wife, what ails you ?"
he asked, in amazement.
"Pahl Quiet Do you hear how
soundly he sleepsY ?"
We'll, he has had long journey to-
day, and is tired enough to sleep WELL"
"He must never wake from that
sleep!" hssed the wife, close to his ear.
GLOW !"
He must never wake, say. Listen,
Antonio Matchez. That man has enough
wealth to make us rich, and with the
contents of his pack can dress better
than the alcaide's wife, who will break
her heart of envy, He must de''
"What do you mean ?" cried the hor-
ror-stricken farmer, starting back.
"Quiet, you poor, cowardly fool ~
said his wife, fastening on his shoulder
with grip of iron, and snatching the
sharp hatchet from his hand. eff you
are afraid to do it, l am not"
g Do you mean to murder him ?''
Ay, and you too, if you give the
alarm.'
Standing in awe of his wife, as he did,
the farmer dared not utter another word
of expostulation. Clinging to the side
of the fireplace for support, the misera-
bic man watched the murderess stealthi-
ly approach the bedroom door. She set
the candle close to the threshold, so as
to obtain sufficient light for her purpose
without running any risk of disturbing
her intended victim.
In moment more her figure disap-
peared in the gloom of the room where
her child and her guest were sleeping.
AT this instant a terrific crash of thun-
der shook the earth, and the tempest
broke down the narrow pass in which
the house was situated with frantic
howl. All earthly noises were drowned
in the conflict of the elements. A vivid
flash of lightning, however, revealed the
figure of Madame Maschez standing in
the doorway. She still held the hatchet
in her hand, but it was dripping blood
In the brief moment which had passed
a human life had been taken for the sake
of few gew-gaws and a couple of hun
dred francs.
Such was the tragedy which occurred
in the Andorre pass on the night of Sep
tember 10, 1858, as told at his trial by
the husband of the murderess himself.