Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1908-09-08

from his neck He sat staring at the
rocky shore the white cleaning light
house, the long ridge o. healthy ground on
the crest of the hill, the villas, the gar
dens with their glow of light and color,
the dark masses of foliage clustering here
and there amidst the bright-hued rocks.
He looked at everything except his dead
wife, lying almost at his feet.
There was IN inquiry that evening be-
fore the Judge .d'Instruction at Vile
franche, and he was made to give an ac-.
count of his vFife's death. He proved
very bad witness. The minute and seem
ingly frivolous questions added his brain.
He told the magistrate how he had looked
round and found the path empty but he
could not say how his wife had fallen
whether she had flung herself over the
edge or had fallen accidentally, whether
her foot had slipped unawares, whether
she had fallen face forward, or whether
she had dropped backward from the edge
of the cliff
II tell you again that l did not see her
fall" he protested impatiently.
did you usually walk in advance of
your wife?' asked the Frenchman. at
was not very polite to turn your back
upon lady"
Il was worried and out of temper"
"For what reasonr
'My wife's unhappy jealousy created
reasons where there were none. The peo-
pie know that 1 was not habitually I'M
kind to her."
''Yet you gave her an answer which so
maddened her that she flung herself over
the cliff in her despair?'
II fear that it was So" he answered,
with the deepest distress depicted In his
haggard face. "She was in a nervous and
irritable condition. / had always borne
that fact in mind until that moment. She
stung me past endurance by her ground
less jealousies. | had been a true and
loyal husband to her from the hour of our
marriage. | had never wronged her by so
much as a thought, and yet l could not
talk to a pretty peasant girl, or confess
my admiration for any woman / met In
society, without causing an outbreak of
temper that was almost madness. l bore
with her long and patiently. l remem-
bered that the circumstances of her child
hood and youth had been adverse, that
her nature had been warped and pervert-
ed; L forgave all faults of temper in
wife who loved me, but this afternoon
almost for the first time since our mar
riage-I spoke unkindly, cruelty perhaps
| have no wish to avoid interrogation, or
to conceal any portion of the TRUTH
you did not push her over the cliff"
81 did not Do | look like murderer,
or bear the character of man likely to
commit murder?
The examination went on, with cruel
reiteration of almost the same questions
The Judge dInstruction was a hard-head-
ed legal machine who believed that the
truth might be wrung out of any criminal
by persistent questioning. He suspected
Ransome, or deemed it his duty to sus-
pect him, and he ordered him to be ar
rested on leaving court so George Ran
some passed the night after his wife's>
death in the lookup at Villsfranche.
What a night that was for a man to
live through He sat on a stone bench
listening to the level plash-plash of that
tideless sea ever so far beneath him.
He heard footsteps going up and down
the steep stony street of that wonderful
old seaport: he heard the scream of the
guls and the striking of the clock on the
crest of the hill as he sat motionless with
his elbows on his knees, and his head in
his hands, brooding over that swift, sud-
den horror of yesterday.
Could it have been an accident? Did
she step backward unawares and slip over
the ledge? No; he remembered where
she was standing when he last looked at
her, some distance from the size of the
Il; hoo will
thyme which grew down to the edge Of
the little path. She must have made a
rapid rush to the brink after that fatal
speech of HIS She had flung her life
away in a single impulse of blind, mad
anger-or despair. She had not paused
for an instant to take thought. Alas he
knew her so we'll lie had so often seen
those sudden gusts of passion; the rush
of crimson to the pale small face; the
quivering lips striving impotently for
~7eech the fury in the dark eyes, and the
small, nervous hands clenched convulsive-
ly. He had seen her struggle with the
demon of anger, and had seen the storm
pass swifter than a tempest-driven cloud
across the raoon Another moment and
she would burst into tears, fling her arms
around his neck, and implore him to for
give her.
II love you too we'll ever to know hap
piness" she said
That was her favorite apology.
at is only people without passion who
can be happy" she told him once. Il
sometimes think that you belong to that
family"
And she was dead she whose undisei-
plined love had so plagued and tried him,
she was dead and he felt himself her
murderer.
Alas doubly a murderer, since she had
persisted just at that time when her life
should have been most precious to him,
when he should have made any sacrifice
to secure her peace, He who had seen all
the evils of fretful temper exhibited in
her character had yet been weak enough
to yield to a moment of anger, and to
insult the woman whom he ought to have
cherished.
Next morning he was taken before
the Judge dInstruction for the second
time The two fishermen who picked up
his wife's corpse were present as wit
nesses: also his wife's maid, and the three
other servants; also his wife's doctor.
He WIS again questioned severely, but
this time nothing could induce him to
give direct answer to any question. He
raved about the Italian Republic. of which
he was to be chief. He told the French
magistrate that France had conspired
with the Italian tyraut TO imprison and
suppress him.
Every other pretense is a subterfuge."
he said. "My popularity in Italy is at the
root of this monstrous charge. There will
be rising of the whole nation if you do
not instantly release me. For your own
sake. sir, warn you to be prompt.
This man is pretending TO be mad"
| said the magistrate.
II fear there is more reality than pre-
tense about the business" said the doctor.
He took Ransome to the window, and
| looked at his eyes IN the strong white
| light of noon. Then he went over to the
magistrate. and they whispered together