Litchfield enquirer., 1880-10-07

l. ooSnf 10 uOW6u, do u6 udu u0 SITcuSGu
| or spirit. to hold himself upright, with
| square, massive head surrounded by thick
gray hair and gray beard of some weeks
growth; great black eyes, imarvelleusly mild
fora murderer. you would say, with visit
| full, weary look in them, as of tired, over
worked animal, and big bony hands clasped
| upon his knees. He, wears still his waters
| dress-a threadbare snit of seedy black, with
shirt that once was white. and. round his
neck, instead of a tie, a silk shoe lace tied in
agbew with its tag of brass dependent. NJ /
| ] He looks SO quiet, so unmoyed, hefmlst in
| deed be desperate ruffan. y ... ~. ,,r,,.
a f1utter in court, an opening and shutting
OF doors, shuffing of feet as the twelve re-
appear. j, !+.-a .r:. +aF ~ ''F.4 81 /
| i. The foreman is very pale. He is a worthy,
! kind hearted Briton, with wife and babes at
| home, and this task of pronouncing on mans
life nlislikes him much ".'4 i
al.Do they find the prisoner at the bar guilty
or net guilty? f7 p ..e,a.- Fl ru 4r*g
They find him guilty. f.. "a, ...ru.,
And is that the verdict of them all?
b. That is the verdict of them ALL s'ts
| There is nothing about madness and no
recommendation to mercy. OF course not.
| What extenuating circumstances can there
possibly be? 20 JIG ~ =" f-' -.+
r. Has the prisoner anything to say why SEN
tence should not be pronounced upon him ? IL
| No; the prisoner has nothing to say, except
a whisper to himself in French which the
tcourt does not hear; but that is no great mat
ter, for it is only two little words, "Dieu
merci," and sigh. sf-. --. s4.- .4fs
SO the judge assumes the black cap, and
Gustave Mas is stralghtway sentenced to be
hanged by the neck until he be dead and may
God have mercy upon his soul. a.
f. And the court rlses for the days work is
nd ho ho1r IN no hor nd
bar bows to the bench, and every one prepares
to go his way-except the condemned. He
/ sHssso still, in the same attitude, that the
warders must shake him before he will rise to
4 be Jed away to the condemned cell. qg.
And the public goes home awed some
what it may be, but still feeling on the whole
that justice has, been DONE And doubtless
the public is right, for has not this foreigner
slain an Engshman, and slain him, too, for
no apparent reason save that he was sitting
before him in the blameless enjoyment of his
dinner. ....,... .,.: ...-. :, ....
So Gustave Mas was removed to the con-
demned cell. And there he sat, passive and
speeches., during the days that interviewed be-
| tween his trial and execution. He refused
| the ministrations of the prison chaplain
neither would he avail himself of the spiritual
services of a Roman Catholic priest. Not a
word on the subject of the murder ever passed
his lips, and no friend or relation appeared to
take leave of HIM Or soethe his last hours on
earth. He was quite alone, this desperate
ruffian-quite alone abandoned by every one,
probably because he was such a rutfian and
every one from the governor of Newgate to
the ward RS who watched him, was unani-
monsly of opinion that he must be hardened
criminal. @ ~ .','.1"
But the night before his execution, when
| the good chaplain came to make last attempt
| to rouse him to contrition, he asked for pen
and paper, and wrote letter which he desired
might be given to the solicitor who had un-
dertaken (nobody knew why, for nobody had
! paid hiin) 10 instruct the energetic young
counsel in his Defence but the letter was not
to be delivered until after the execution had
| taken place. y, ..sf ,an a. ..4H -.. 'r.i
And he lay down to sleep that night quite
calmly. And the jaier who watched him
noticed that as he slept, the hopeless weary
look left his face altogether, and often he
broken sentences in French, for he was dream
| ing, this condemned felon.
/ And this was his dream.
1t was summer, far away in fair Touralne,
| in the vineland by the Loire; it was summer
| in Touraine, and it was evening. A broad
| valley, with gentle uplands on either side
| clothed with melloWlng grapes. and between
| them meadows rich with hay and clover and
musical with the evening song of birds and
| the far-of lowing of cattle going down to
I drink at the river which divided the meadows
with girdle of gold and silver. On one side
the upland was crowned by fair chateau on
the other frowned the edge of mighty forest
and nesting warmly in sheltered hollow be-
meath rose the roofs of tinyvillage The
| evening shadows heightened, the hours chimed
mellowly from the gray church-tower, the
Angeus had long ago rung out and then died
away across the valley: the mdges danced in
swarms in the warm. scented air, and to the
" est down the valley the sun, sinking over the
shoulder of a hill, had blazoned the great
shield of heaven with all the tints of his gor7
| geous heraldry, azure and or, argent and
gules. Slowly the great ball of fire sank in
the west, and the crimson and golden shafts
rose up like the van of heavenly host-lke
the spears of the archangels army ranged
against the powers of the Oakland flung the
last rays far over the river which lay at rest
with its flashing scales of gold and silver, as
though the fable Of old Hellas were true and
this were none other thaa~the dragon guard
ing the Hesperides of that lovely land.
| And brushing knee deep through the clover
| by the peaceful riversde-his arm round her
tiwaist, his breath stirring the cnrls upon her
temples-khere wandered together young
man and maid. He was goodly youth and
| tall, with black curly hair that flowed thickly
round his head, and great black eyes bright
| with hope AID love.
And she was fair to see; delicate of form,
with pale, clear, oval face crowned with sun
NY brown hair, and large gray eyes-not the
,blue-gray, dreamy Teutonic eyes, but the
| darker gray, laden with lightsome fancy,
brimmiug over with suppressed esprit, the
| laughing eyes of France. .s..
Side by side heart close to heart, they wan
dered through that lovely land, and they
watched the crimson cloud-islands set in a
rose-red sea, and their shores were sands of
| silver, and their mountains were peaked with
gold, and they stretched one behind another
far far away into the distance, where the
rosy sea turned to pale, shades of amber and
opal and delicate green; and here and there
| between them little feathery white cloud
sages of love to the happy jewellers on those
fortunate isles; And they seemed to wander
on and on until they reached the fair cloud
Islands. and there they wandered still along
the sands OF silver and under the peaks of
gold-they wandered and were happy. And
they never thought that lovers voices grow
silent and lovers kisses cold that sand and
shingie are weary walking for all their silver
seeming, that mountains are toilsome climb
ing though their heights be crested with gold;
for they We're INNOCENT and young, and the
years stretched before them as bright as that
evening sky, and twin, spirits hoHered round
them like the moths in the evening air, and
the twin spirits wooed their fancy, and their
names were Youth and Love-
! RI And he slept quietly, very quietly, until
| they came to rouse him in the morning and
he rose calmly and prepared himself, and SO
died, calmly and quietly, ;, like the hardened
criminal he doubtless was! l...,f..a .l -
CHAPTER II.-AT THE STAR AND GARTER. g.
/ In due time the letter was delivered as Gus
| tave Mas had desired. !, The solicitor in ques-
tion was personal friend of the energetic
counsel, and the day after the execution of
Gustave Mas be asked his. friend, to dinner in
the following note: Dear: Dine with
me tomorrow at Richmond Star and Garter.