Forest City press. (Forest City, Potter County, D.T. [S.D.]) 1883-19??, 1918-08-29

N'J ''A'e ~ 81 =" WCSNS tllIlc, WIcIl
the two criminals are %irrevocably
doomed, when the letters are in the
hands of the police. on the 25th, or,
rather. at 3 o'clock on the morning of
the goth OF May, an explosion will de-
stroy every trace of my work. The
bomb is in its place. a movement en-
tirely Independent of the chandelier
will explode it at the hour aforesaid.
l nave just laid beside it the drab
cloth manuscript book, in which 1 pre-
tended that 1 wrote my diary. the
phials containing the poison, the
needles which I used, an ebony walking
stick. two letters from Inspector Verot,
IN short. anything that might save the
culprits. Then how can any one know?
No. nobody will know nor ever will
know anything.
U~nlesS-unleSS some miracle hap
~pens-unless the bomb leaves the walls
standing and the ceiling intact. I'm
less. by some marvel of intelligence
and intuition. a man of genius, un-
travelling the threads which 1 have
tangled. SHOULD penetrate to the very
heart of the riddle and succeed, after
a search lasting for months and
months. in discovering this final letter.
IL is for this man that l write, we'll
knowing that he cannot exist. But,
after all. what do ] care? Marie and
Sauverand will be at the bottom of
the abyss by then, dead M doubt, or
in N case separated forever. And 1
risk nothing by leaving this evidence
OF my hatred in the hands of chance.
There. that's finished. have only
to sign. My hand hakes more and
more. The sweat is pouring from my
forehead in great drops. l am suffer-
ng the fortunes of the damned and 1
aia divinely happy! Aha. my friends,
you were waiting for my death!
You. Marie, imprudently let me read
in your eyes, which watched me
stealthily. all you delight at seeing
me so i'll! And you were both of you
so sure Of the future that you had the
courage to wait patiently for my death!
We'll. here it is. my death! Here it Is
and there are you. united above my
grave. linked together with the hand
cuffs. Marie. be the wife of my friend
Sauverand. S%auverand, I bestow my
spouse upon you. Be joined together
in holy matrimony. Bless you, my
children!
The examining magistrate will draw
up the contract and the executioner
will read the marriage service. Oh,
the delight of it! l suffer agonies-
but oh. II delight. What a fine thing
is hatred. when it makes death q joy!
am happy in dying. Marie is in
prison. Sauverand is weeping in the
condemned man cell. The door
Oh. horror! the men in, black! They
walk up to the bed: "Gaston Sauve-
rand. YOU appeal is rejected. Courage!
Be a mani" Oh. the cold, dark MORN
ing-the scaffold! It's your turn,
Marie. your turn! Would you survive
your lover? Sauverand is dead: it's
your turn. See. here's a rope for you.
Or would o rather have poison? Die,
will You, o hussy! Die with your
veins ON fire-as I am doing, / who
hate you-hate you-hate you!
M. Desmalions ceased, amid the
silent establishment of all those
present. He had great difficulty
iii reading the concluding lines,
the writing having become almost
wholly shapeless and illegible.
He said, in a low voice, as he
stared at the paper:
!. sHippolyte Fauville.' The
signature is there. The scoundrel
found q last remnant Of strength
to sign his name clearly. He
feared that q doubt might be en-
tertained Of his villainy. And in
dced how could any one have sus.
, pected it,"
! And, looking at Don Luis, he
! added:
1T needed, to solve the mys.
terry, . really exceptional power
of insight to which we must all do
homage, to which l do homage
-JAll the explanations which that
madman gave have been antici
: pated in the most accurate and be.
! wildering fashion.
5. Don Luis bowed and, without
Terrifying TO the praise bestowed
, upon linn said:
HY0u are right, Monsieur le
sntPrefet he was . madman, and ON.
7 of tho most dangerous kind, thi
st lucid fnadman who pursues ax
= - --Hlf 49, tL-r.s ~ $40 Lxn-s-aEtt - :