The Washington times., 1911-01-01
===By-=
MAURICE LEVEL
(Copyrtght. The Frank A. Munsey Coz

An officer, unattended by any witness,
stepped up to the bar, clapped his heels
together, saluted and said:
"At II Rue du General Appert l was
Barton was livid. He took his head
in his hands, moaned and fell back.
Hardly had the news of Dedoux
death ben announced when the prose-
cutting attorney sprang to his feet
Your honor and gentlemen of the
the gravity of the declaration we have
just heard. If NJ. Ledoux were here to
testify, the charges against this prisoner
would still stand. You Will, therefore,
not allow yourself to be influenced oy
this audacious attempt to instil in your
minds a doubt in favor, Of the prisoner
at the bar To what have already said
1 have nothing to add. 1t Is for you 10
Judge and to condemn without mercy.
Barton's attorney Immediately began
reply: Your Honor
Barton pulled him down and STAN,
mered: Its no use. Stop L beg you!
It's all over, all over"
Irritated by the postponement OF the
trial, the jury returned to the box III
ten minute minutes ar after cf1itvI fhH }"ose cn3fse
Barton was a wreck. Terror had
laid its hand upon him. His will had
triumphed too late over his super
stitious fear. He realized now the
for the last three months. He also
realized that nothing short of a
miracle could save him and that the
day of miracles was past All that
he had suffered thus far was moth
, ing compared with this new anguish.
His eyes-the pleading eyes Of poor
tortured animal-wandered from face
to face. The mob that had attended
the trial would presently shuttle It's
way out into the street and into the
glad, free air, and would melt away.
His numb brain heard voice monot-
onously declare, Victor Barton is
condemned to death" A moment later
the same voice voice an tannouneefd', suneef, Ihree
He felt that he was being led away;
that a hand gripped his arm. When
he came to his senses he was lying
on his bed in his cell;
That night he had fr1ghtfu! night,
mare. He dreamed that he had killed
old Forget of Boulevard Lannes. He
rushed down the stairs, opened the
door and ran out into the street. 1t
was cold, and the wind cut him. He
stopped. His head was light and his
legs unsteady, like the head and the
legs of a drunken man. There was
not a sound. Shivering with cold, he
turned up his coat collar, stepped
forward. stopped again, to mn md his his
started off. He walked slowly, re-
volving the details of the crime in his
troubled brain. He came to a de-
serted, dark cross road. His body
shook so that he had to lean against
a wall. Suddenly he fancied he heard
a footstep in the silence. He collected
himself and listened He heard the
sound again, this time more clearly.
1t came from a point straight ahead
He turned and ran. The sound fol-
lowed him. Before hirn he saw the
long street, fianked by rows of flick
ering lights. He bounded along in
his fright like a rabbit with a pack
of hounds at his heels. He ran on
and on and on, losing all sense of
time. He had wound in and out
among the streets and had reached
a quarter of Paris unknown to him.
Ready to drop with. fatigue, but spur
red on by fear, he ran and ran.
The Conclusion of This Story VIII
BE FOund In TomorrOw's
Issue of The Times.