, 1886-03-26
CATISS0N C0USSAC.

entered the guard at Limoges, where thu
adjutant one morning informed US we
had an important undertaking on hand.
An honest, poor man, a master mason.
had been assassinated at his own home,
Faubourg Montmailler, no one knowing
who had committed the crime. II was
in September, and we had an agreement
TO clear the roads for the unarmed chas
seurs. The adjutant, NJ. Boudet now
promoted to the ami of captain. recon-
mended to the quartermaster that the
men redouble their vigilance, and II
they found under the chestnut treo or
along the road doubtful or suspicious
characters. to arrest them. The entire
roundw was guarded, for the order had
been dispatched 10 Chateau-neuf, to Am
bayac, to Saint Sulpico and Lauriere,
Bellac and Rochechouart. Such orders
are somewhat ~perplexing. 1t will not
do to depend too much upon the appear
ance. There are those Of unfavorable
mien who are most worthy. l once
knew a person whom they might have
guillotined, or at least sent to the galleys,
for his looks. All, well, he was a man
to whom in every other respect trey
would have given the Montyou value.
He supported n number of people, and
distributed to the poor all he had; a
saint, upon my honor, yet with the head
Of a galley slave; while others who would
be granted dissolution without confession
suddenly come to manaeirsEB But they
told us 10 arrest. and we arrested ped
dlers, beggars, as yellow as their wallets,
even idiots, who roamed u~nknowingly
over the country. Not one seemed
capable Of making way with Father
Coussac. Time passed, and the assassin
of %Faubourg was still unknown. Discov-
cry was not easy; we had so few indica-
tons to guide us, and the affair was one
Of mystery.
One day when l was Mt the guard
house a beautiful girl, with black eyes
like mulberries. and red lips like straw
berries, came toward me, saying:
"Have they any news OF the assassin
l am the daughter of Leonard Coussac."
That was something worth hearing.
She spoke with so much energy and feel
ing that | felt ashamed Of not having put
into custody the wretch who had killed
her father. Then l tried to. excuse my
otAF "a AAAA INV AAlIAktA WIZ Jul lOI
nation regarding the assassin, and this
and that, but she looked at me 30 steadily
l became embarrassed and said suddenly:
well, miss, l would risk an arm or a
limb to catch the rogue for you
And / spoke the truth; yet it was not
perhaps professional duty that made me
say it, but those velvety black eyes.
"Only." / said. I'VE must have a clew.'
"A clew Z" And then she shrugged
her shoulders. is not the hand one7"
1.-THE handl What hand ?"
Then Catisson Coussac related to me
the story Of the crime, which l confess
chilled me.
1t was one evening in September.
Poor, honest Coussac had at his house in
Faubourg Montmailler some money
which had been ~intrusted TO him by his
patron, VI. Gabourdy, the contractor,
about 10, 200 francs, with which he was
to settle two bills-one with a plasterer,
the other with a lumber merchant. Hay-
ing, upon this particular evening
finished his repast, Father Cous-
sac and his daughter remained
downstairs after mother Coussac had re-
tired, he reading his almanac as he sat
near the closet containing the silver, and
she knitting a wool stocking. It is nee
essary to explain that there was a gar
den back Of the house, and, facing this,
a window. the height of a man, the shut
ten Of which were generally closed, but
which on this particular evening, the
worthy man, being a trihe warm, left
open. He read there, under the sky
light by a small lamp, and Catisson
heard him turn over and own the pages
of his almanac. She has often told me
that she felt, while working mechan-
ically, a little drowsy, by this noise Of
the paper, so regular, and by the tick,
Of the pendulum, and that, suddenly
raising her head from her work, to yawn
and see il II was not time to 20 to sleep.
she saw, believing at first that she was
mistaken, that she dreamed; that she had
the nightmare-she saw between the
folds Of the shutter, passing. moving
softly, softly, n hand, a large hand, but
with something frghtful about it that
Catisson remarked at once, the four fin
gers, almost as large as the thumb, be-
ing all Of the size, as though cut by line,
lth Nhtl MtlN hRN AANf oIAN terminated
In this frightful way; and this hideous
hand glided along the shutters. evidently
seeking 10 open the blind noiselessly.
Then it remained m~otionless, as though
its owner knew that Catisson had discov-
sred him. For a moment she believed
abe had not seen Alright, that the
light Of the lamp had dazzled her
sight. But when she opened her
eyes. very much frightened. there
vas the moving hand, with its enor-
nous even fingers. Catisson wished
10 scream. but seemed strangled by that
terrible hand. Then she suddenly arose,
and. seizing her father by the sleeve,
pointed to the hand on the blind. But
at the same moment that old Coussac
turned, the robber quickly pushed open
the blind, and a current Of air extin-
guished the lamp in a cloud Of flame
and smoke, leaving Catisson and her
father in darkness. Coussac, hearing
the sound Of a heavy body lenping into
the room. tried 10 find a knife with |
which 10 defend himself, and more es-
pecially the money, but before he could
open the cupboard he was seized by the
throat, and felt n stroke against his
neck, then down near his heart. Catis-
son screamed, divining all, though SEQ
ing nothing, but a heavy blow rendered
her powerless. The poor girl was in a
faint. she could not say how long, and
when she recovered found herself in tho
lower hall. WHERE Mother Coussac,
whittier than her robe. sought to rouse
poor Leonard, who pointed 10 the breast
as II to say Wound in here-no rem