The Washington herald., 1919-10-05
WOMAN SLAYER
LURES WITH Love
Letter of Landru, French
Bluebeard, Had Ro-
mantle Appeal.


lous and calculating scoundrel. he at
least was fully alive to the value OF
the romantic element so dear to the
heart OF women. Letters written by
him to his supposed victims, and just
recently brought to light. lend ample
color to the belief that 1t was mainly
on his powers as Romeo that he
relied in his dealings with the fair
sex.
All the passion and poetry usually
embodied in the illusions of the ar
dent lover characterize Landru's love
letters, and explain In no uncertain
fashion the extraordinary fascination
exercised by the modern Bluebeard.
They indeed present q wonderful study
In psychology.
Their mixture Of fattery and sigh
ing sentimentality, the veil OF mystery
they drew over his personality. were
apparently such as would impress the
naive creatures on whom he is alleged
to have preyed. The following two
letters were addressed to q woman
whose name has not been found, and
whom he had met only twice:
Il am in pain. my little friend, and
turn to your affectionate heart seek
ing consolation and oblivion in my
trouble. must tell you what it Is
first. mustn't I? Don't be afraid, it's
not your fault, you're incapable ef it.
It's I alone certainly who Is to blame,
but / cannot define it yet. I saw yes
terday that your eyes, your beauti-
full eyes, SO deep and so moving were
veiled by some slight sorrow. 1t was
doubtless for me. forNwe were alone;
but what was the reason?
II Am q Recluse.,
WAS it the confession / made
you that saddened you thus, my be-
hG vior in this matter not meeting
with your appreciation, or did it
make you fear for the future? Did
I utter a word. a phrase, that
else that I cannot remem-
Der? 1 have been rejecting and
OF all sorts OF reasons that
did not occur to me in my happi-
ness in having you so near me. and
in the beating Of my heart So full
of you. Unfortunately. reason shows
up a thousand things, perhaps err
roneous, perhaps, alas! nearer the
truth.
Among these place the idea that
you were grieved that do not bring
you a tenderness and an affection
that are quite fresh, such as your
beautiful soul deserves and as /
should have liked to do. But we
agreed to be frank. that 1 should
tell you everything about myself
that you wished to know or that
you had a right to know. But, I
beg you, for PHYS sake. don't hurry
me. for By nature. by my manner Of
life because Of my material and
moral lonelines, I am a being apart.
a recluse.
You may make many fresh dis
coveries. perhaps more than you
think. but it is up to you who are SO
not to ask too much Of
me all at once. / shall do my best
to make up for what bitter expert
ence has taught me by preserving
you from all cares that you like to
conide in me.
.The Ardent Kisses,
Another bitter truth that I must
and that may have con-
to your trouble Is the knowl-
edge that no longer share your
SO full OF charm and
hope. The years have been hard IN
all the most painful meaning OF tho
word for me. and II my body is still
healthy and supple it's only due to
severe observance of rules Of health
and avoidance of all excess.
Certainly 1 am still lusty. perhaps
more so than many young men OF
our cities, but the years have left
their trace, and l consider 1t childish
to try to hide it.
Il thought of other reasons. but
these are Of a more delicate mature
and must be discussed verbally. ana
| Will only discuss them If you can
not tell me the reason for the veil
time and opportunity permit For
give my prose. my incoherence. but
the mere idea of having grieved you
kills me.
You alone can restore my calm
with a word and the great happiness
of again looking into the clear,
impid depths of your eyes. whose
haunts me day and night.
Adieu: don't let me wait too long.
your answer may be it will
be welcome and accepted without
You will always enjoy the
esteem. good wishes, and. il you so
lesire. the ardent kisses on your
lear little hands Of
"LUCIEN GUILLET."
Glove Smiles Like Nature,
Even more rhapsodical is the Sec
end letter addressed from The
Hermitage" Gambais. In this
Landru wrote:
Dear Little Friend-I wrote YOU
this morning, but now I want to
write for thee alone, for US, for I
express what want to say,
nor all that 1 think. 1t is almost
night. The silence of the void, of
the absolute has prostrated all na-
ture after its efforts OF the day.
Not a leaf stirs on our trees, !
and I think only of thee, my
queen. in these surroundings, where
we were so happy in the sacred
hour that I. shall never forget
when. without promises, without
Daths, above all. without thinking
Of the world or even Of the uni
verse. we tasted happiness, COM
pleted by the unique Joy Of being |
of living alone in soli-
tude.
What did anything matter to us7
Did not our love smile like nature
in spring, amid the verdure on
which my eyes are fixed. seeking