Year: 1874

am very old man now. So old that
work no longer as used at my pro-
fession. The time of rest has come. II
is happy time. I am not poor. I have
all life's luxuries. Best of all, I have a
wife who loves me still, and whom ]
love as well as when 1 wooed her-nay,
better, if that can be, and my children
are beautiful and prosperous. What
can man wish more?


read my favorite authors. I smoke
my cigars. take a glass of wine of an
evening. Sometimes we go to play.
Every Sunday morning to church. 1t
is all holiday time for us. 1t will not
last long. We are both old, but we are
happy.


There is no romance about q lawyers
profession. People are disposed to
sneer at it, and to speak of its followers
as tricky sort of folks, more anxious for
their own gain than that of their neigh
bors. If this is so, we do not stand
alone; but will say for my brother
hood, that they have hearts as we'll as
other men, and that it is not always
merely for what we can make by it that
we undertake cause.


Odd things fall into our way very
often. 1 have had no need to read ro-
mances. The real stories that have
fallen beneath my notice are quite as
interesting, and far more singular, than
any tales of the imagination could pos.
sibly be. I tell them to my children
sometimes of winter evenings.


Perhaps it is only to fatter the old
man that they assume an interest in
them, nevertheless I will tell one of the
tales to you--one which / have always
had cause to remember.


A great many years ago, while was
comparatively young man, and still
unmarried, resided in a certain city of
Pennsylvania, and enjoyed the reputa-
tior of being the cleverest lawyer ever
known there. 1t is not for me to say
the praise was merited, but certainly
found myself able to discover loopholes
of escape for those whom / defended,
which surprised even my fellow lawyers.
l possessed by nature those qualities
which would have made me an excellent
detective, and was thorough student
of the law. There was no mystery
about it, but among the more ignorant
classes I had gained reputation for
more than human knowledge. Perhaps
it was not polite for them to say that
the Devil helped me, but they did


However, began to tell you about
Madame Matteau.


She was an old lady who owned q
little house in the suburbs of the city.
She herself was of American birth, but
her husband had been a Frenchman, l.,
and so the title Madame had been be-
slowed upon her. She was now a
widow, and her daughter Gabrielle, and
a son named Henri, were her only liy-
ing relatives. Her income was but
slender, and she eked it out by taking a
few boarders, generally steady old
people, who had known her for many
years. These respected and liked her;
but the city generally had prejudice
against her. There had been two sud-
den deaths in her house. Each time
the victim was stranger who came at
night, and was found dead in his bed
in the morning. Each time the jury
was divided-some believing that stran-
gulation had been the cause of death,
some that the man had died in fit.


1t was terrible thing that two such
deaths should have occurred beneath
her roof. Madame's friends pitied her.
The rest of the little world limited that
these were strangers, and that their
trunks, with no one knew what amount
of money and other valuable property,
remained in Madame's possession. Nc
one said she was murderess, but every
one said it was Every strange" in an
odd tone, and no one since that second
death had visited Madame Matteau.


I myself-perhaps because admired
her great deal, and her daughter much
more-had always insisted that it was
merely o coincidence, and that in 6
world in which apoplexy and heart dis
ease were SO common, it was no sucl
marvel that two men should have me-
sudden deaths in the same house. Blu
my faith in this theory was shaker
when one morning twas published ovel
the city that another transient boarde
had been found dead in Madame Mat
teau's house, and that she was arrested
on suspicion of having murdered him
u'b "hOCu huu Cildlu uhNluB Uoou lOuHt
in her possession.


Before I had recovered from th,
shock of this terrible piece of news,
message came to me from Madam,
Matteau. She desired to see me. o
course went to her at once.


She had been taken to prison and
found her in little grim room with
barrel window, and an insufficient fir
upon the hearth. The logs had burn
in two upon the andirons, and the whit
ashes were scattered over the hearth
Almost in them sat Madame Matteau
in her widows dress of sombre black.


She was chilly with grief and excite
ment, and had drawn her chair close t.
the fire.


She shook violently from head to foot
and her face was deadly pale as sh
turned it toward me and held out he
hand.


"Oh, thank Heaven, you have come !
she said. "I know you can save me
Is it not horriblep How could 1 kill
man9 Why should II Why do peepl