The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1889-02-21

chimes with the cOo1ng OF the C0mto1sel
They are half drunk already-heat is
sufocating open the window for airl
Besides, 'tis well that every one should
know that at Jocard's house they never
worryl
Attention, friendsi Five minutes to
S12l One ttwo-ight the punchl The
flame springs from the saladier; the
spoon plays In the flood that flashes and
I leaps III yellow and blue tongues; the
sugar bubbles. Put out the lamp, boys.
put out the hnpI The congested faces
take on a.purple hue. s.
Zoundsl but Ills fun! Hist! Silence!
the Comtoise soundsl -.
Sounds, did I say? that beautiful Com
toisel No, it speaks-its calls aloud
uDon: the name Of its purchaser.
Jacques Jocard! Jacques Jocardl /
saYn
sssHeyl2 Who calls him2 Whose that
oldish, cracked yoice?i Whence does it
come? The CELLAR The voice answers
with another wall.
Jacques Jocardl Jacques Jocard!
Confess, confess, I say!"
tsConfess? BAIL What nonsense or
what farce is this7 And who is this
talking, Jocard? Why do you pale So,
MANI And what is the voice saying
Enowil'''I ;,
Confess, Jocardl Thou art q muir
derer, Jocard! Confess, confess, saym
ga murdered? 'tis falsel Who
says it? He ies-I swear it!''
ga murderer, Jocard, a murderer who
killed the old SPierret-a murderer. and
you know itl'''
Then there were cries, hiccoughs and
Sgroans yof terror. Jocard leaps to his
feet, his eyes staring, his hands tearing
swildly:a at the collar that seems to stop
his breathing. But the voice continues
mercilessly, still cracked, still broken,
far away, asif it came from a tomb,
repeating and repeating obstinately the
hideous charge, 3
Thou art a murderer, Jocard, a mur-
5derer, and you know it'll"
Jocard sinks to his knees, struggles to
his feet again, to fall, anew. The voice
goes on and on remorselessly. BE can
bear it no longer-he throws up his arms
5-he yields to the Invisible!
ssI viii, will" he screams, 81 will con-
sfess-I did kill the old Pierretl I did
rob him Of his money! But for Gods
sake stop it-that accursed voice-stop
i'll stop itI'
Stop It'll But 1t will not stop-it is like
machine that runs forever, and 1t
comes from the Comtoise. Jocard dis
covers It at last, and with a howl Of rage
fings himself upon 1t. He strains 1t In
his arms, shakes it, dashes 1t to the floor!
The works tumble from the case, and
with them q long roll covered with metal
2sheathing.
Rerret, listening at the open window,
crosses, the sill with bound; his fingers
. close upon Jocard's throat with grasp
Of iron.
..Do you hear him2" he cries. "Do
you hear him, one and all7 T call upon
you to witness it-Jocard confesses-he
is my fathers murdaferl'
And how had Pierret learned or guessed
I the truth3 "Instrinct," he would have
told you, aided By Provid idence and an ac-
scidental discovery that the tale Jocard
related of .an hnheritancen from beyond
tho mountains, was Lie out Of "whole
cloth, as the saying goes; Jocard's
avoidance Of his shop; dozen such
.trides, as these and an indiscreet word or
two dropped by the rascal himself when
in his cups. Inspiration from heaven
assisted by genius" to quote the procu-
reur generals words.in his arraignment
Of the. criminal, had done the rest and
taught poor, Insignificant worker on
watches to utilize the greatand scientific
principle Of the photograph in the cause
Of justice by adapting it to the mechan-
ism Of q. clock.
Jocard was condemned unanimously,
and the Comtoise, its..mission done, sings
sas cheerily as ever on the walls Of the
: Herret shop, and viii sing there forever,
for all the money that was ever coined
o.. sI.-- IL