Newspaper Page Text
git MMxifci Mmh ml& Stoma Pioiiiittg, gftwe 3,-1888".
had been accustomed to visit the usurer fre
quently, up to about a year before. Tho
stranger remarked that that might possibly
bo one of his compatriots, but did not men
tion to what country he belonged.
" 'After talking for about half an hour, tho
stranger suggested that tho girl should be sent
for a bcttlo of Trine. Mouton agreed -with
alacrity; tho stranger gavo Sophie money to
pay for it. During bar absenca it seems that
ho asked Mouton to look out and tell him
whether it still rained; tho janitor complied,
going to tho outer door, , and so leaving the
stranger alone in tho room for, perhaps, a
"During which minute," observed M.
Blery, "our man replaces Meissner's key on
-"No doubt. "Well: 'Presently Sophie
Mouton returns with the wine; tho stranger
site down, fills glasses for Mouton and him
self, and chats with the janitor for a few
minutes lender. Suddenly ho rises, saying
that ho wishes to see whether tho rain has
stopped. Ho goes to tho outer door and
never returns.' "
"Precisely," said M. Blery; "never re
turns. No; ho has got what he came for.
And now, Mor "eur, let me ask you if you
put any question to the janitor Mouton re
garding that other foreigner of whom he was
reminded by his complaisant vitorr'
"Yes: it occurred to me that this was sig
nificant.' "Admirable!"' murmuredM. Blery; "admir
able! He neglects nothing misses not a
single point! A born detective! "Well, Mon
sieurf "This other foreigner, Mouton informed
me, Lad been for a long time, more than a
year, most cssJluous in his visits to the old
usurer. Kc was cno of those unfortunates,
tho janitor said, whom Meissner had 'flayed.'
At ilrt La ued to drive up to their dcor in a
cabridet, or rido with a groom following him;
but toward tho end of his acquaintance with
tho old Jew his clothes had bacome shabby;
rjid finally Meissner had given the order that
ho was to ba admitted no more. It v. as more
than a year, Mouton told me, since he Lad last
"Monsieur attaches an evident importance
to this other foreigner. He thinks tliat there
may bo soma connection between him and
Mouton's invsterious visitor of two months
' 'Yes. Thoy were very liko each other, the
janitor says tho same build, the same cast
of features, tho same accent in their speech.
I connect them with each other; I connect
them also with the weapon used in tho com
mission of tho crime. Tho dagger is of
Japaneso workmanship; the two foreigners
may be it is a mere surmise, but there is at
least something in its favor tho two for
eignnrs may bo Japanese."
"That is more than a surmise, Monsieur it
is an idea; an idea which has also occurred to
myself. And now as to the daggers I take
it we gained precisely tho same information
"No doubt, but I shall ask your attention
to o:io point regarding tho daggers, which I
think of consequence. 1 take no credit to
mys -If for tliis discovery; it was made by
the happiest of chances."
M. Blry pau3d in his walk through the
room and listened very attentively.
"A Japanese dagger is found besido the
corpse of Meissner; one exactly liko it is
found in the collection of M. do St. Floreut.
Tho chief characteristic of these dargers is
thir rarity; that or tho Passage de Mazarin,
be iore the discovery of the other, Avas pro-roui-jed
by connoisseurs to be unique. Tho
Do St. Tiorcnt dagger has a cheath shaped
1 lie a dosed fan; presumablj-, that found in
Meissner's room wo aid have a similar shsath.
"Mei-sor obtained this dagger, which ho
snbsequcnt'y gave to lus nephew, from a rich
foreigner who was ono of his clients. The
question we have to deal wit h Is this can we
prove that Girard's story is true? Can we
prove that ho really sold tho weapon given
Lim by Lis unclei Inn word, can wo show
that there is a third dagger of this kind in
existence? cso, th ve find it?
"On each of the daggers now at the pre
fecture thee is grrven the imago ol a flower.
On each, bTide that flower, there is inscribed
a single wonL Tho wr-rd on the Do St. FJorent
dagger means Evanescence; that on the other
"Here is what I find written in tliis book.
Tho book, I may tell you, belongs to M.
Beauvais. It is in English, and is called
'Thj Buddhist Belief Buddhism, I need not
remind M. Bk-ry, is tho religion of tho
Japanese. This book was given to my
friend Girard, by M. Beauvais, on tho very
night; of lLo murder, to bo translated. Ever
since it has lain in a corner of this room ;
last night I picked it up, to return it to its
owner. I was idly fingering tho pages,
thinldng cf the visit I had just paid to M.
Beauvais, and of tho information he had
piven mo regarding tho words graven on tho
daggers and their meaning. All at once it
ilasued through my mind that here, in this
very book, I ha1 seen somohing I could
not recall distinctly what, but still Iwassuro,
sonuth.nj viucli connected itself in my
mind with tho words Eranrscencc and Il
lusion. J searched through tiio book; at last
I found this paragraph, which I translate:
'Tilakc.va, TOE TnKEE SiGXS: There are
three Things on which the mind of the
Ascetic ought to dwell forever; Anitya,
Evanescence; Anatma, Illusion; Dukhat
Sorrow. These three Signs belong to every
"TJc-e, 3'ou will observe, nro three words
taken from tho sacred writings of the Bud
dhists tho mystic number Three. TVo find
tho word for Evanescence inscribed on one
dagger-blade; the word for Illusion on an
other. "What is tho natural assumption? Is
it not that tho smith Tokotaru in Yeddc
forgfxl three daggers, on each of which he
claused ono of these mystic words? If Mon
sieur succeeds, as I do not doubt ho will, in
finding tho dealer in curiosities to whom
Girard sold his weapon, I venture to predict
that ho will find graven beside tho flower or
its blade tho rem "ning sign of tho three the
word for Sorrow."
"Admirable!" said M. Blery again; "Mon
sieur, this is raoro tlian ingenious; it is sub
tile. You call your discovery a hanov chance
doubtless, to a certam extent, it was so. But
tho inference you draw from it ah, that &
quite another thing 1 It is, I repeat, admira
Me; Monsieur should certainly havo been t
I disclaimed the compliment; but M, Blerj
politely insisted that it was deserved, and as
surod me that, liadlonly had the proper train
ing, I might havo reached a grade in the pro
f ession scarcely second to Ins own.
"Your discovery," he tald, "supplies ci
important lh.k in the chain of evidence. Thi
theory of tho crime which we- ha e both o"
us formal, each independently of the other
determines the lino of action to bo followed
I shall begin to-day ; before a w eek is over, i
our theory proves correct, 1 shall havo laic
my hand on the assassin."
I gave M. Blery a little roll of notes; I hac
contrived to borrow soma money for thi
special purpose "When I apologized for thi
anallness of the amount.
"Do notspeakof it." said II. Blery; "thi.
isaniple. If I succeed in finding the rea
criminal, as I hope to do, I receive live thou
sand francs from the authorities, invent
thousand francs from your friend a sufQ
cient reward. Besides I take an interest ii
tho case, in M. Girard, and in tho charmlm
young lady, his berrotled. And I shall hav
a satisfaction. I confess it. in overthro.vinj
tho theory of my friend Py. Ah. it will l
beautiful! beautiful! A child might see ih
difference between our methods. Is it not o
"Certainly. The judge and your friem
Py start from tho assumption of Girard'
guilt; v. e start from tho assumption of hi
"Oh, no. Monsieur""' exclaimed 3L Blery
whom this answer seemed to disappom
grcvicosly "no! "We start from no assump
tion: w assume nothing. It is this; let m
explain: Ry aid the judgo look out for fact
to support then- theory; wo discover fact
and construct our theory from thei" Pj
saysitusall easy, simple, straightforward
the ovidenco lies rt your hand; w say, no, i
is coaipler, dif5-u"t, obscure; you have to g
in searcn or tno evidence, possmiy tar."
So saying, M. Blery bowed himself out
taking withhini tho key of Meissner's docs
and tho tracings of the daggers, and promis
ing to communicate with mo at the end of 11
days, if net sooner. I did not inquire whai
his plan was; I could see that he would hav
disliked such a. question. And I had now
great confidence in M Blery.
After M. Blery's departure, I naturally eu
f ered a reaction from the excitement of thi
last few days, and tho hopefulness of my in
terview with tho detective. It was difficul'
to remain inactive and not to despond. But
for tho sake of Mile. Dumaine, whom I saw
every day, I strove to be cheerful. I alst
wrote to Baoul, and, without raising hi
hopes unduly, hinted that things were begin
ning to wear a more favorable aspect.
The days passed without any word fron
M. Blery, and each day deepened my anxiety
At last the fourteenth day came, and everj
one of its hours seemed to mo as long as t
month. I dared not go to Gabrielle; I coulc
not have concealed my disquietude.
But in the evening there came a telegram
from Blery, tho most joyful message I have
ever received in my life, because it assurec
me that my friend was safe. M. Blery tele
graphed from Rome: "Ihavensucceeded; thi
dagger is found. I return to Paris direct.'
I ran at onco with the telegram to the Rui
de POdeon, and spent tho rest of tho evening
with Mme. Dumaine and Gabrielle, explain
ing the discoveries wo had made, and listen
mg to tne outpourings of then- joy.
With Mme. Dumaine and Gabrielle, ex
plaining the discoveries ice had made.
Next morning I saw tho advocate Sapinaud,
and told him of tho new evidence in Raoul's
favor. Ho advised me to say nothing, in tho
meantime, to Raoul.
"Let U3 wait," he said, "until Blery returns
and tells us tho whole story. Then, if tho evi
dence "'he has found proves what you say it
proves, I will frame a statement and lay it
before tho Imperial procurator. After that
Girard will no doubt ho released from deten
tion, either with or w ithout bail."
Next morning the dstectivo arrived in Paris,
and sent mo a message asking me to come to
him at the prefecture of police, and to bring
Sapinaud also. I was fortunate- enough to
meet Sapinaud in the Balle des Pas-Perdus;
he at once unrobed, and we hastened to the
Theio we found M. Blery, in his napless hat
and shabby gray overcoat, just as ho had ap
peared in Rome, and who could tell how many
other European capitals? The room in which
he received us was small, but well lighted; its
furniture consisted of two cliairs and a bureau
in common pine wood; on the bureau lay an
almanac, a Paris Directory and a Universal
Guide to all the railways of the world. M.
Blery gavo each of us a chair, and himself re
mained standing with his back to the light.
"MVjeurs," ho said, "I am charmed to
havo the honor cf this visit. I rush at once
inio the middle of things. In the conversa
tion which I had with M. Marsal 15 days
ago, there was one point wo did not discuss
namely, the apparent want of motive for the
crime. I presume, however, that Monsieur,
in his very intelligent examination of the
case, did not fail to give this point his atten
tions" "No," I said; "I considered tho point, and
came to a certain conclusion."
"Wo may suppose," said M. Blerr, "that
tho assassin of Meissner had one of tw o ob
jects in view either revenge or plunder. If
it was simply revenge, why did he ransack
the strong boxes and cabinets? If it was
plunder, why did he leave so much portable
booty behind? The Judge again fitting the
facts into the theory accounted for this ba
ilie eccentricity, amounting to insanity, of the
criminal, terror-stricken by his crime. How,
Monsieur, do j'ou account for its"
"I account for it," I said, "in quite another
way. I account for it by tho conjecture of
ojjurch on tho part of the assassin; and,
since all the lock-fast places were not opened,
by a search for a special object.'"
"Exactly," said M. Blery; "tho conclusion
to which any unbiased mind, possessing sutli
cient acutencss, would naturally come. "What
were tho judge's words? 'This,' he said, 'is
the obscure point of the case, but the difficulty
here tells as forcibly against any other theory
of tho crime as against the theory that
Girard is the guilty person.' A somewhat
rash assertion, Monsieur the Judge 1 The cir
cumstances certainly mako against his theory,
birt they confirm ours. Yes, search for a
special object, that is itl And the special
"A compromising paper,' suggested Sapi
naud, "left In Meissner hands by one of his
"An excellent hypothesis," said Blery: "but
here, fortunately, we can dispense with hy
pothescs; wo have facts, as I shall s-how you.
Since leaving M. Marsal, a fortnight ago, I
have been in London, Brussels and Rome. I
have been in search of tho missing dagger.
I started here in Paris, at the Palais Royal. I
found it correct, as did my friend Py, that
there was now no dealer in curiosities there to
v. horn Girard had sold his weapon. But I
found that two years ago there was a dealer
in curiosities there; a man who had fled by
night, carrying the valuable part of his stock
in trade with him, and leaving his rent un
paid. I traced this man to Loudon; with the
help of my friend Briggs, of Scotland Yard,
I find him. Ho has by this time sold the dag
ger, but he names the purchaser. I go to the
purchaser, but he als-o has parted with it in
brief. I followed this dagger to Brussels, I
followed it to Rome. In that city it has come
into the possession of a French artist, who is
by no means well off. I tell him for what
purpose 1 require the dagger; he agrees to
soil it It is then in pledge; wo go to the
pawnshop, we redeem it aud I leave Rome
w ith it in ray keeping. Hare, Messieurs, is
the dagger." M. Blery laid it on the bureau
lefo-e us. "Observe the one word written
beside the flower: compare it with these
characters, traced brJL Beauvais, and which
stand for the word S-orrow' you see they
are the same. Thus the conjecture of M
Marsal is proved to be perfectly correct; this
is the missing dagger of the three the one
given bv Meissner to his nephew two vears
I could not look without emotion on this
weapon, which had so nearly proved fatal to
my f rieud. and which now had been found
just in time to save him.
"So much for the dagger,"' continued M.
Blery, "now for the key." He touched a
hand-bell en tha mantelpiece: the door opened
and a httle man, red-haired, pock-marked,
and with furtive eyes, apijcared.
"This. Messieurs, is Pilotin." observed M.
Blery, with the air cf ono exhibiting an in
ferior animal, "Pilctm, one of my aides.
You will tell these gentlemen, Pilotin, wliat
were tho instructions I gave you before I left
"Monsieur gave me this key." said Piloton.
laying it beside the dagger on the. bureau.
"Monsieur told me he had reason to believe
that a Reyjond been fabricated from this as a
model, about two months ago. by a locksmith'
liin within a certain radius of the Passage
de Mazanu. Monsieur aLo cave me a de&criD-
WWJ' test! v wbdp&J
tion of the person wno had ordered'the key to
be fabricated, and directed-me to discover the
"And j ou made inquiries?" prompted Ble
ry, whose aide spoke in a monotonous voice,
with the inflection of one who repeats a lesson
"I begin by consulting the directory and
visiting all tho locksmiths within the radius.
No result. I widen my circle; still no result.
I begin again by inquiries into the private life '
of certain locksmiths, who are in the habit of
doing work at home; still there is no clew. 1
begin to despair of satisf ying Monsieur, when
I make a luck3' find. Passing along the Rue
St. Louis I observe a small shop whose shut
ters are closed; its exterior is freshly painted;
above the door is a sign: 'L. Benoit, Lock
smith.' I make inquiries. I learn from the
neighbors that Benoit is a young man, very
sober, very industrious, who came from Lim
oges to Paris about three months ago and
opened this shop. About a fortnight ago he
had injured his hand with one of his tools,
and had been taken to the Hotel Dieu for
proper treatment. I conjecture that this may
be our man; the fact of his shop being so re
cently opened accounts for his name not being
in the directory. I go to the Hotel Dieu, but
am told that I cannot see him; he is suffering
from blood poisoning and is very ill. I ask
who is the doctor attending him, and am
informed that it is the Doctor de Bourdon. M
de Bourdon, as Messieurs will remember,
was one of the medical witnesses at the inquiry
into the murder of Meissner. I see him; I tell
him that my mission is connected with the
affair of the Passage de Mazarin. M. de
Bourdon takes an interest in that affair; he
allows me to see his patient. This is Be
noit's story: About a month after he had
opened his shop that is, about two months
ago on a dark and wet night, a gentleman
drove up to his door in a cab and came into
his shop. The gentleman asked him whether
he could, in less than an hour, fabricate a key
exactly like one which he showed him. The
key was of simple construction. Benoit said,
'Yes, easily ;' and at once went to work. The
gentleman waited. He was a foreigner, of
that Benoit is certain, but cannot guess the
country to which he belonged. He was in
evening dress, and wore a fur cloak. The
locksmith noticed specially his dark eyes
and sallow complexion ; could indentify the
stranger if he met him again, especially if he
heard him speak. "When Benoit had finished
the key, which ho did in half an hour, the
stranger gave him three fiancs, the sum
asked, and at onco drove away. I showed
Benoit the key of Meissner's room, now lying
on that bureau; he declared it to be the same
size and shape as the one which had served
him for a model."
Here Pilotin stopped, as if he had run
"Is this Benoit available as a witness?'
asked Sapinaud, w ho like myself had listened
with close attention to Pilotin's narrative.
"M do Bourdon says that he will live,r
answered Pilotin tersely.
"Messieurs," said Blery, "yxm have heard
now you shall s Pilotin, fetch a cab. "We
are on the eve of a discovery."
We took our seats in the conveyance with
out asking any questions. Sapinaud and 1
exchanged a glance which said, Let us leave
the revelation to M. Blery; he has an eye foi
Pilotin mounted on the box; I noticed that
he carried a short crowbar. The coachman
had evidently received his directions before
hand. He drove us up the steep, narrow
Rue St. Jacques, into the very heart of the
Latin Quarter. He stopped at last where the
Rue St. Jacques intersects the Rue Cujas, at
a pork-butcher's shop, with the name Pajol
over the door. Pilotin alighted, and held
open the door of the cab while we got out.
M. Blery entered the pork butcher's shop
and presently reappeared with M. Pajol, fat
faced and blue aproned.
"Messieurs," said Blery, "M. Pajol will
now take us to the room of that tenant of his
who, since Christmas Day, has disappeared."
M. Pajol bowed, smiled blandly, rubbed his
fat banik, and led us up the dark, moldering
When wo had reached tho sixth story Sapi
naud and I paused to take breath. "A little
higher, Messieurs, if you please!" said M.
Blery. We toiled up with many stumblings
after the detectives, until we reached the gar
rets, in the very top of the roof. The stair
way leading to these was little better than a
ladder, where the hands had to assist the feet
of the climber.
"This is tho door," said Pajol.
Pilotin took a big bunch of keys from his
pocket and tried them one after another; none
"No matter!" said Blery. "See, place the
crowbar here now, a httle force and,
presto, we havo the door opened!"
Sapinaud and I followed the detectives intc
the room, Pajol bringing up the rear. The spec
tacle which met our oyes was a strange one.
The small window in tho roof, thickly Coated
with grime and soot, admitted only a very
feeble light into the garret. A deep layer ol
dust rested on everything. In the centre of
the garret stood a brazier, filled with char
coal ashes. On tho wretched truckle-bed lav
a heap of clothes, as if they had been thrown
hastily down. Three large traveling trunks
occupied about half tho entire space of the
We looked on in wonderment while the de
tectives made a business-liko inspection of the
room before touclung anything.
Suddenly Pajol plucked Blery's sleeve, and,
pointing to the charcoal-brazier "It was
with that same brazier he did itl" ho whis
pered. Blery nodded. "Now, Pflotin," ho said,
"let us begin our search. Approach, Mes
sieurs, if you please. I havo tho idea that
among these clothes hero" pointing to those
on tho truckle-bed "wb shall, perhaps, make
Sapinaud and I drew near, and looked on
curiously. The clothes consisted of a dress
suit, a fur paletot, and a crush hat. Blery
felt the breast pocket of the coat, and, with
a smile of triumph, drew out a dagger sheath
made of green silk and lacquered wood, in
shape like a closed fan.
, . J. . --C
Drew out a dagger sheath made of grer.i
silk and lacquered wood.
"You have seen something like this before,
Messieurs, is it not so?" said the detective.
"And this this also you will recognizer
and he showed us a key which he had found
in another pocket. An exclamation a sig
nificant "Ahr escaped from Sapinaud and
myself at the same moment. M. Blery smiled
Pilotin next opened the traveling-trunks.
They were found to contain clothes for the
most part; among which were one or two
dresses, evidently OrientaL There were aho
a number of letters, some in our own lan
guage, some in a foreign character, which I
easily recognized as Japanese.
Still M. Blery had not spoken a word of ex
planation. He seemed to enjoy onr complete
Pilotin," ho said at last, when his search
was finished, yoa will remain here on
guard until ycu are relieved. You will
allow no cue to enter without a written order
k x. t 5lSJ
xTOtn jnonsisur tiio jriiocu. Jtreaaiciua, u.
you will return with me to the prefecture, I
shall have the pleasure of expkiining to you
what you have seen here. That will be a
more convenient place for doing so."
Leaving M. Pajol's, we drove back to the
Prefecture, where M. Blery resumed his nar
rative. "Monsieur," he said to me, "will remember
the surmise lie had formed or, as I prefer to
call it, the idea that the assassin of Meissner,
who was certainly a foreigner, may possioly
have been a Japanese. I decided on follow
ing up this clew."
"In the lists at the prefecture I find the
names of between sixt- and seventy Japanese
returned by the hotel keepers and proprietors
of furnished houses in Paris. About forty of
these are still resident bere. Over twenty
have returned to then- native country. Tho
remainder are dead, and buried in Paris.
"I make special inquiries with regard to
these last; it seems to me very probable that
the victim of Meissner's extortions should be
among them. One of the names is Sangura,
a native of Yeddo, no profession, returned by
Lunel, a keeper of private apartments, of the
most expensive description, in the Avenue
du Roi de Rome. I visit Lunel, who remem
bers his lodger Sangura perfectly. He had
occupied for a year the finest suite of rooms
on the.first floor of Luuel's house. He was a
Japanese of noble birth and great wealth,
who intended remaining for three years in
Europe. The seductions of Paris had proved
too strong for M. Sangura, however; his style
of living, Lunel assured me, was fabulous.
He always rode out with two grooms behind
him. His dinner never cost him less than two
hundred francs, as he never dined alone. He
would go behind the scenes of the theatres with
his pockets full of jewelry. He made presents
of the most splendid character; to one actress,
it is said, he gave a set of diamonds worth
thirty thousand francs; to another a barouche
and a pair of English horses with silver
"The rent was always paid to Lunel quar
terly, in advance. About the end of the
third quarter, Lunel's experienced eye began
to see symptoms of a change in his tenant's
disposition and' mode of life. Sangura was
no longer high-spirited and gay; there was
almost continually a cloud on his face. First
one of the grooms was dismissed; then the
other; then the valet. Finally, tho riding
horses and the cabriolet were sold. One by
one Lunel began to miss from his tenant's
apartment certain costly articles of jewelry,
with which Sangura had decorated it
when he first came. Lunel inferred that
these were being sold, as the difficulties of his
tenant grew more pressing. Little by little
Sangura's wardrobe disappeared also a bad
sign, Lunel thought; but the fourth quarter's
rent was paid, and so he was safe.
"At the end of tho fourth quarter, San
gura whose apartment was by this time
stripped of everything belonging to him which
had the least value disappeared himself.
Lunel never saw him again ; but, about three
months after, he remembers having read an
account of a suicide committed somewhere in
the Latin Quarter by an unknown foreigner,
supposed to be a Japanese, and having fan
cied that this might be his former tenant.
"Lunel further hands to me a bundle of
letters, which had arrived for his tenant sub
sequent to his disappearance. I examined
these; with one exception they are the unpaid
bills of M. Sangura's tradesmen. The excep
tion is a letter addressed in a female hand; it
is here Monsieur can examine it for him
self." M. Blery, drawing out a bulky pocket
boot, took from it a letter in a delicately
tinted envelope, addressed in faint violet ink:
"M. de Sangura, l'Avenue du Roi de Rome,
I read tho letter, then handed it to Sapi
naud. It v.as as follows: "My own one, why
hide thyself thus? Cans't thou think thy
poverty will change me? Come to me as of
old. Thine own Clotilde." The letter was
dated "Rue de la Reine, 48; Wednesday
"As Messieurs may suppose," continued M.
Blery, "I lose no time hi visiting No. 48 Rue
de la Reino. At first I am refused admission:
Mile. Duchastre, the premiere danseuse at
the Theatre for she and no other is
Clotilde can see no one. I pencil on a card
these words, 'It is tho affair of tho Japanese,
Sangura,' and give the maid fivo francs to
carry it up to her mistress. In two minutes
I stand in the presence of the beautiful
"I can easily see on the lady's face the signs
of emotion. I infer at once that tliis has not
been an ordinary acquaintance, but a case of
true affection. 'Mademoiselle,' I say, with
an air of deep respect, 'pardon my intrusion:
but I am engaged in an inquiry into the sad
end of M. do Sangura. I have found from
one of your letters that you lcnew him, and I
beg of you to give me any information you
may possess as to his affairs.'
"Mile. Duchastre seems to take a pleasure
in talking to any one of her dead lover. She
tells me with real emotion, with fi equent
tears this story, which I repeat to Messieurs:
"Mademoiselle had formed tho acquaint
ance of Sangura about six months after his
arrival in Paris; they soon formed a mutual
attachment. Tho Japanese was handsome,
his manners were distinguished; the courtesy
of a gentleman, the generosity of a prince.
His generosity, indeed, was so lavish that it
eventually proved his ruin. Mademoiselle
pleaded with her lover to curb his expendi
ture, to give up gambling and betting at
Chantilly and Longchamps ; it was of no avail.
He persisted in loading her with costly pres
ents; which she assured mo and I believe her
caused her moro pain than pleasure to re
ceive. The worst feature in Sangura's case,
Mademoiselle informed me, was that ho had
gradually fallen into the power of some
Jewish money-lender, who, she thought, re
sided on the left bank, but whose name she
had never heard. As Sangura's funds dimin
ished, this man's hold on him increased; the
unfortunate Japanese grew every day
moodier and more depressed. Sne divined
that he was now living by the sale of his
wardrobe -and effects; but he never told her
so, and she did not daro- to touch on the sub
ject. "At an early period of their acquaintance
Sangura had given her to wear, not to keep,
a pearl of ecttraordinary size and beauty; ex
plaining to her that this gem was the great
heirloom of his house; that he, as the eldest
son of his dead father, had tho custody of it,
and that if anything happened to it he would
be dishonored in the eyes of all his relatives.
There was nothing he would not give to his
Clotilde, Sangura had said, except only this
pearl; nevertheless, she might wear it as an
ornament, since he knew that in her chargo
it would be safe.
"One morning Sangura rushed into her
room, in a state of great agitation, and, ex
claiming that he was ruined and undone,
asked for the gem. His mistress gave it to
him with trembling hands; he rushed out of
the chamber, and Mile. Duchastre never
again saw her lover alive.
"About three months after, Mademoiselle
read in the journals the report of a suicide in
the Rue St. Jacques the suicide of a young
foreigner, supposed to be a Japanese. Sh
hastened to the morgue; it was the unfor
tunate Sangura. He had found a last refuge
in the miserable garret which 3Iessieurs
visited to-day. Too proud to return to his
mistress, all his means exhausted by the ra
pacity of the old money-lender, he ha1
starved there till ha last sou was fpent.
Then one night be closed up carefully every
crevice indoor or window; lighted a charcoal
fire in the brazier; lay down on his wretched
paliet and, three days afterward, was found
there, lying dead.
"Mile. Duchastre caaspd her unhappy lover
to be buried with propriety, and had a stone
erected over his grave, where sha still hangs
rreaths of immortelles. But she had not yet
heard the last of Sangura. About three
month 3go she was visited by a young Jap
anese, who introduced himself as Kksaka.
Sangura's brother. E3aka told her taat his
brother baa written him of the straits into
whichhahad fallen, asking him to leave Yeddo
for Paris at the earliest opportunity, and,
when there, to lye no time in visitin; Mile.
Duchastre. It wa from Mademoiselle that
EJosaka first. b.rd Uis o$- oi. his bro;Lrs
painrui aeatn; no was proiouncuy aneciea,
apparently with rage as well as grief, and
muttered something in his own language,
Mademoiselle told me, 'with an accent which
was terrible.' Shortly after he bade her fare
well, and him also she has never seen again.
"I ask Mademoiselle if she has a portrait of
the late M. de Sangura. Mademoiselle has; a I
miniature on ivory, of beautiful execution. '
After some hesitation she consents to lend it
to me, on my swearing to return it uninjured.
Taking my iejarture, I fii-st show this porn-ait
io Mi.i.3 und his daughter; they recog- i
nize it at enco as that of the foreigner who j
had so frequently visited Meissner up to about
a year ago. and whom tho old money-lender j
had "flayed ,' to use Mouton's own term. 1 1
then proceed to the Rue St. Jacques, in order
to show the portrait to the proprietor of the
house where Sangura found his last lodging,
and where he died. There I made a discovery,
unexpected, but most important, the discov
ery that another Japanese, about four months
ago, had rented the very garret in which
Sangura destroyed himself; that he did not
live there, but spent in the garret a portion of
almost every day; and that he was quite a
problem to Pajol, the proprietor, and to all
the other tenants. But to me the point of
greatest interest was this: On Christmas day
the Japanese visited Pajol in his shop, and
told him that he was about to make a journey,
the duration of which was uncertain. He
then paid three months' rent for the garret,
remarking that it served very well to store
his effects in, and that he would take the key
with him. Since that day the Japanese has
been neither seen nor heard of.
"Messieurs, to men of your intelligence the
story is no w plain. A young Japanese noble
man comes to Paris, and wastes in profuse
extravagance all the wealth ho has brought
with bun. This young Japanese has in hi;
possession a jewel of immense value, a pearl,
which is an heirloom in his family. Reduced
to the direst straits, he pledges it to the usurer
who has been his ruin. His debts swallow up
the sum he has received from the money
lender; starving and desperate, he finally
puts an end to his life. Before this, however,
he has written to his brother in Yeddo telling
him that the family heirloom is in Meissner's
hands, probably adjuring him to recover it.
This brother, Kj'osaka, comes to Paris; he
desires to recover the pearl; but more eagerly
still, as his actions show, he desires revenge.
He takes up his abode in the garret where his
brother put an end to his life, that he may be
constantly reminded of the duty of vengeance.
Messiem-s, I have not told you that Mile.
Duchastre was asked by the Japanese where
his brother had been buried. The grave ol
Sangura is in Mont Parnasse; I visited it my
self; on the tombstone erected by Mile. Du
chastre certain words have been cut in the
Japanese character. I have made a copy ol
these words, and obtained a translation.
Then meaning is, 'Ay brother, rest in peace,
thou shall be avenged.' That inscription,
cut in the stone by Kiosoka's order, expresses
his fixed purpose; in the murder of Joseph
Meissner he carried that purpose into execu
tion." I drew a long breath of relief as M. Blery
finished. At last the mystery of the Passage
de Mazarin had been made clear!
"I may bo called away at any moment,'
said the detective; "copies of this portrait
have been sent to every seaport in France
and to the towns on tho frontier. Before
man' hours havo passed I shall bo on tht
trail of the assassin."
While we were still talking a telegram was
handed in. M. Blery ran his eyes over it.
"From the chief of police at Marseilles," ht
said; "I go there at once. Your friend, M.
Marsal, is now as good as liberated. In a
few hours, or days, another will be confined
in his place. What a disappointment to my
The evidence which Sapinaud was able to lay
before tho imperial procurator proved suffi
cient to secure Raoul's immediate release. All
the necessary steps werp taken by Sapinaud;
tho office of bearing the joyful news to the pris
oner devolved upon me.
I found Raoul in his prison chamber, lying
half asleep on his pallet. The light of the
solitary candle falling on his face showed
what tho effect of three weeks' imprisonment
had been; his former associates might have
had difficulty in recognizing him. His features
were wan and haggard ; black ringssurrounded
his eyes; an untrimmed beard covered the t
lower part of his face. 1 do not thmk 1 had
realized until then what Raoul had borne in
As I entered he sprang from tho truckle
bed on which he had been lying.
"Ah, Paul, my friend," ho cried ; "it is you
Then, releasing my hand, ho took a step
backward, and fixed on me a surprised, al
most a startled look. This surprise was, in
deed, natural. I was in evening dress; there
was a bouquet in my buttonhole; my fea
tures, I suppose, betrayed my excitement,
my elation. I saw Raoul's lip quiver; I fan
cied that he trembled. I seized both his hands
"Raoul," I half whispered, "bo brave; I am
going to tell you something "
"There is hope?" he cried, with trembling
eagerness, as I hesitated. "They have dis
covered something? My innocence "
"Is proved, Raoul proved! There is no
longer the shadow of a doubt! Moro than
"More than thatP he repeated, and his
voice was weak and shaking.
"Yes," I cried, "more than that from this
hour you are free!"
"From this hour you are frttP
Raoul fell back on his bed; he had fainted.
Tho warder who had accompanied me ran
for water, and I sprinkled it on Raoul's face.
In a fpw minutes he revived, and looked at
me with a smile.
"The shock has been too much for you," I
"Gabrielle" he answered "does the know
I am innocent"'
"I have but now left her. Ton shall your
self see her this night."
"Ah, Paul," he said, "yon are indeed a
friend but now tell me what has been dis
coveredtell me all I can bear it"
"I shall tell you all afterward. In the
meantime you must come with tne. But
expect surprises RaouL do you think you
are strong enough to bear excitement I
"I will go nth you at once to Gabrielle.
I am strong again, my friend. Ah, Pad, If
you had passed such weeks of horror, yoa
would not wonder at my weakness you
wouH know all that is meant bj that httle
phrase I am free'
I qo not -very well know how I got oct at
that prison, I only know that R&oul leaned
on my snn, and that I walks! besi&a him in
an ecstasy of joy. A cab was waiting for vs
at the gate. Racul took his &i without ask
ing any question. He seemed to confide him
self silently to my direction. It was as If he
lived and moved in a dream. At last, when
"How is it that we are not yet at Gab- j
rielle's. I thought you were to take me io j
her at oncer j
"Patience, patience, my dear RaoaL, I an- j
swered; "you forget ycu are not za yet Jcofc- j
inirlifce yourstif- Yoor connn-nsent. your j
suiTerfc. tare altera! yoa. Wo thail asa 1
jsiiie. xumaine soon, uut, nrst, you muse
be made once more like the Raoul of former
days. At present you are unshaven, you are
not dressed croperly. The sight of you, so
changed, might alarm Gabrielle ; who knows P
"You are right, Paul" he said; '"you are
more considerate than L But can you won
der at my inipatienceF'
First I took him to a hairdresser's on the
Boulevard St. MicheL Here his long black
hair was trimined and the last week's growth
of beard removed. Then we drove to the
Rue Dauphine and entered our old chamber,
where we had been so happy together, and
where I had teen so wretched aone. The
honest servant and his wife Nannstte poured
out their consrrarulations., but Raoul seemed
scarcelv to hear them. When he crossed the i
threshold ho shuddered and passed his hand
before his eyes, as if to shut out a sight of
horror. I fancied that some shape soma
scene that he had beheld in that room in his
dreams, had again arisen before him. Then
he once more relapsed into a kind of stupor.
I confess I began to feel alarmed about SaouL
When the servant and his wife had left us,
I showed Raoul a suit of evening dress, laid
out on his bed.
"Now," I said, "you wQl oblige me by pat
ting on these at once. There is not a moment
to spare unless you wish me to break an ap
pointment. Raoul gavo me a puzzled look.
"What does this mean f ' he said; "I do
"You will soon. Remember your promise
you were to obey me in everything for this.
one night. If you do not, 1 warn you, Kaoul, I
shall not be the only one whom you will dis
appoint." Raoul asked no further questions, but al
lowed events to develop themselves as I
When he bad dressed, we went downstairs.
The cab was still waiting, and we again en
tered it. In a few minutes it drew up before
a large building, the front of which was one
blaze of light. There wo dismissed the cab.
"It is the Odeon Theatre," said Raoul.
"Ah I see but Gabrielle V
I allowed him no time for reflection. I led
him up the staircase and through the cor
ridor to the stage-boxes. I knocked at the
door of ono of these, opened it, and half
pushed Raoul within. Then I closed the door
After an interval of a few minutes tho door
box. I foiuid myself with my friend and
Gabrielle Dumaine. Tho light was dim, for '
the curtain3 of the box were drawn, but it
was not so dim Uiat I could not discern the ,
change that had come over the faces of these (
two since I had last looked upon either.
Gabrielle was radiant with happiness, the ,
serene, pure happiness which is born only of
sorrow. I had seen her before in her mo
ments of gayety and in her time of anguish, j
but I had never seen her looking so lovely as
she did then. It seemed as if her trial had !
not onlj tested her heart, but had in soma J
subtilo way lieightened her beauty and given
it a new dignity and sweetness a soft witch- j
cry, a calm, spiritual rapture born of deep- j
ened thought and proved devotion.
I need not repeat here what Gabrielle and ,
Raoul said to mo as wo three sat, holding !
each other by the hand, in tho darkened box I
in the Od"on. Suliico it to say that thoy so !
exaggerated my share in restoring Raoul to ;
liberty that, I protest, it was almost a relief .
to me when the door opened, and there ap-'
peared M. Sapinaud, leading in Sline. Du-!
maine. Then there were fresh congratula-1
tions, and we wero still in tho midst of a con- i
versation, joyful, but on tho part of the '
ladies tearful also, when a bell rang and a '
hush succeeded to the hum that had filled the
Then I drew back the curtain of our box, I
and looked, for the first time, on thonudienco j
that had assembled to witness Raoul's play. '
The house was crowded from floor to ceding.
I looked from the circle, from the beauty and ,
rank that filled it from the snowy, lustrous J
dresses, tho brilliant uniforms, the sparkling I
jewels, tho flowers, the white-gloved fingers I
toying with fans or raising lorgnettes I
looked from the circle to the stalls, to tho
black-coated gentlemen among whom, I knew,
were seated the keenest dramatic critics of
Paris. Tho thought that they were thero
filled me with exultation. I had no fear for ,
the success of Raoul's comedy. I had no doubt
that before the night Was over several of tho ,
brightest pens in tho most critical city of tho
world w ould be running bwiftly in Ins pnnse.
Many eyes wero turned to our box that
night. Tho evening papers had already an- i
nounced tho fact of Raoul's liberation, and a
rumor that ho was present in the theatre had
circulated through the house. But it was
not merely to the romantic cxjxiriences of its
author that the comedy owed itrf success.
Its iwer, its pathos and its wit would of
themselves have insured that. It was so
strong tnat it held that brilliant, that fastidi-
ous audience from tho first scene to tho lust.
At the close of tho second act M. Desnouettes
and a great critic one of thoe who can
speak in golden pieces, if they will -camo
round to our box to congratulate tha
author. The color camo buck to Raoul's ,
cheek and his eyo eparkled. From tho
inmate of a prison-cell from a man all
but condemned to become the cy
nosure cf Paris! Tho men and
women who had but yesterday mentioned his
name with a cynical indifference or a flippant
affectation of horror, were now the willing
captives of his genius the unconscious mir
rors of his moods, as the dialogue shifted from
grave to gay. Raoul had drunk of the cup of
despair; he was now to taste of tho sparkling
draught of fame. I feared the revulsion
might bo too great. And so, Indeed, it might, i
had not Gabrielle been there. But the love
which had sustained Raoul in his houraf agony
calmed and steadied him in his hour of trf- '
umph. His eyes were turned less often to tha
stage, where his ideas were finling body and i
voice and clothing themselves in new power,
than to Gabrielle. As for Gabrielle, she pa? Ped ,
the time m a charmed distraction between
her lover and tho creatures of his imagination.
For my own part, I am afraid I could not
that evening have given a very clear account
of all that passed on the stage of tho Odeon.
Indeed, nowhere, perhapa, In all tho theatre
was Raoul's comedy followed with lea intel
ligent attention than In the box occupied by
the author and hii friends. But it was tha j
happiest hour of my life, and tho thought j
which always camo to mo was v hat a won
derful thmg is this love I It ha lifted Raoul
cut of the shadow of aterrorworwj than death;
it has made him strong to receive with com
posure an ovation from the elite of Poru.
For it was, in truth, an ovation. I need
scarcely remark that Parisian audiences are j
not, as a rnl, prono to enthusiasm. But, '
when the curtain fell that evening on Raoa! j
comedy, the&jusefairlrroseatbim. Acrtat ,
shout of "Autcorl iintnorl" went np irrcn au
parts of tho theatre. Then, for the firrt tunc,
Raoul turned pala and trembled slightly.
"It is too much," ho ald, "let us go."
We hurried to tha cloak-room, the rear cf
tha theatre resounding In our ear. M. Des
noaettes, as we learned afterward, cam1! for
ward and assured the audience that the author !
waj deeply grotcfcl for the nxxptim they had J
given hi3 piece, and that only tfce state ct as
health prevented Mi appearing is Rsswer to
When we canvs est of the Odeoa I said:
"Yoa bav9 bonsa yourself bravely, nrj
dear Raoul, but year trial are cot yet esded.
Even a Movers is not-prirSrssai to break his
promise. Yea have conquered Paris, bci
ycu rscst obey me yoa msst stfii f Bow.1
"Are we not to go back to tha Baa da
rOdeeaP aid GabrSeCev irV7ha& do yoa ,
"I mean that sines Raoul has tcvdjffct pro j
vided so well for the mind, it i for m to i
proTids for the body" and I led the littl .
party to Eignca"?. i
What a rzpsxr that was! We laasfcad w
grrw witty at least tasm at us did we coo
gratulaud cse another, w& basked In tha
fanvt of oar dramatic, we wero ekiquani,
childish, wh'mgical, satirical, Ko&mesial
we utttred a thousand absurdm end we ,
were wildly, euprtsady kP"?7. Bst i oat I
talk wa4 beaded -with the babJai c frfvclity, j
it current &owd ircaa the dssp places at tho s
fciari. Oct lizkt wcfri were often cslr-tJwl
mask: of our up-welliag emotion.
The honor' of the evening were carried off
by Sapinaud, who relieved his feelings in a
speech of surpassing eloquence indeed, it
was so ingenious, so thrilling, so ornate, that
I had an idea it must have been intended for
delivery at tho trial tho trial that was never
to take place. Then I had to tell Raoul tha
story of his liberation. "When I had ended
Gabrielle, who was seated next ice. seized
my hand and kissed it before I could prevent
bar. Xeed I say that I felt myself richly
'My dear Raoul." I said, I am charmed
to see how well you bear yourself already.
Retirement for a httle whilo m the society cf
Gabrielle is all that is necessary to complete
tho cure. The past will soon bo forgotten,
believe ma. Mme. Dimaine and I have this
day stn a villa at Auteuil, which we think
will suit you perfectly. It is handsomely
furnished. It has a pleasant garden sloping
down to tho river tho very spot for a drama
tist to compos or rehsarse lovo scenes. Yoq
can become its tcuar.t at once.
4hI. I, - )iibJ i
- IL l!tilt i-4-J2 . lvl ll
The. sapper otijijnoa's.
"My dear Foul, what do you mean? Yon
forget I am not a Rothschild, but only a pooi
6tudent of law."
"My dear Raoul, lot mo have tho felicity oj
informin;: you that you era an cxceedinglj
"Most certainly ," said Snpinnnd, answering
Raoul's look cf Incredulity; "you are the legal
heir of your undo. He died in tho possession
cf great wealth; all that is y ours."
"Not to epcaJ: c tha comedy," I added,
"which will of itself bring you no triflo."
It bad never occurred to Raoul that hit
uncle's riches would now bt ms. He teemed
at first ovcrconio by tho inteHigenco. Then
"I will acccptthis wealth only on ono con
dition, Paul womustsharu goo I fortune as
well us bad; we mut divide in. tho f uturo as
well as in the past."
"I shall certainly," I said, "go to my mon
eyed friend rather than to that w olflsh Israel'
ite, Lovi Jacob."
"As for that," put in Sapinaud, "our friend
Paul is never likely to want money, unless he
moans to live like n Lucullus. His reputatior
is made ut tho Prefecture. Isw in him a
future judgo of instruction it makes me
giddy to look higher."
"And the inurriiiger1 I asked, "when il
that to take placer
"To-morrow," answered Raoul, "if Muu
Diunnina and Gi ibriullo do not object."
Madamo did not object, and Gnbrfello as
sented with a blush. I bccouia very envloui
of my friend's koc1 fortune.
"VTe riiall tako the villa tit Auteuil," said
Raoul, "and before long theso weeks will n
to mo liko n ImuI dream, which ona forget in
tho morning; onlv I shall alwuye rumembur
tha constancy and devotion of myfriandj.u
Tho following extract from The Figaro will
form tha conclusion of my story:
jrVSTElir OF THE rASSAfiK 1IB MAZAlinr.
"We have to record this morning tho closing
scene in the extraordinary drama of revenge
and crime which takes ite name from tho Pas
sage de Maztunn. Thfe scene j-juak in ro
mantic interest any that lias gone l)for it.
Our readers havo been already told how the
Japanese, Iviovlta, after the murder of Jo
teph Meisuier, immediately left 1'nris. Th
detective Blery, who has in this case dis
played such singular abdity, at once
htarted in pursuit of tho asaMin. A
clew was found at MarwiUes, through
a photograph of Kioaka's brother,
which had bieu feut to all tho mportw, ther
being a close family n-sanbkuice between the
brothers. M. Blery ticartalued tliat Kkaka
had certainly gyue to ilaru.'ilk, probably
meaning to ship from that port; but having
in the meantime htrd of the nrnyt of JL
Qirard, the author of "Tlw Gold of ToaouV
he seeruH to hare changed hii Intention and
returned to Pari, where ho rcinauiul daring
the whole inquiry conducted by 3L Refract.
Kiosaka had artfully ccnaudud ldu hiding
place hi Paris, isid It was not until a fow
days ago that M. Blery succeadrd in tracing
him. out. It T7C3- then found 'that tho Japo
nic hurl left Parfa precipltakuy, Immediately
after tho inssoceacc of JL Girard had bvra
proved, and tho hni and cry raised against
himself. He adopted varicua dJbaisr, but
in the end M. Blery yuccccded in. tracing hitn
to Nantes. By tliis timo his matvy appcari
to have been nearly exhausted, a h could
not Eatisfy tho demands of th-9 captain of n
merchant vessel tsadlnjr to England, wbr
he intended to tniac refuge. After this thi
unfortunate man. wandered aixnVHsly from
village to village, avoiding all towns and
buying jart as much food a would keep him
in life. Tho dctectrvo mcontimo followed
him clonely, KKnetfmes losing tho trail,
but always recovering it by his in
genuity and fnddatigabla perstavwrance.
Three flays ago the Japanese was bsini of
at a small hamlet near I'oictiers; but in non
of the neighboring villages had hn Leoa sen
after that than. The frost had been exceed
ingly keen in the district, and from thewj facta
M. Blery drew on iaferenco which proved
correct. Under Ms direction the country
people made n careful search of tho woods
lying round the vfliogo which tbe JapaneM
had last vWted, and a party led Iry M. Blery
himself discovered ihn corpse Gf tho Hi
rtorred Kfcradca lying stark and stiff among
tho brushwood. He had Knccumld to tfcj
severe cold, which his natural ccrartttutioa
and the privations h had laWy undergone
rendered him unahlu to rerist. On the perv.n
cf tho Japanco, bunje in a little La round
his neck, icus found tho poarl which the old
money-lender had obtained from the Jafmtx?
Eamjura, and for the recovery of -which be
ww mnrdcied by Kjosaka. This pearl, wiu h
U of great beauty and vry cxrau&W&bi
rala&, pasws into the possesion of M. Gtrard.
ha heir of Jowpb Meiasoer. The reward H
fiva thousand francs otTi-nd by tha authori
ties for ths dacovery of the axaita, toetLer
with the twenty thousand l&Uiy adil to
that amount by M. Girard, will bj rnad o-r
to M. Blrry, who caoaot Le too highly cost
plixDented on the fkill and energy winch ho
has displayed in the affair cf the Passage d
Thero is a new phasa of tht platgfcya
show wiotkwr stady. Tho ladita hava p
pareatrr (ossaA owt tha tbj cant &&p to ad
mire tfhrrimiitm, sadec pretcow of aai&
Inj grads without ervrjtxriy JraoWa- K
and hro adopted cother plas. Am &xa t
on c 9be feir oae rmndijat her ixrunlo peb
llo zzSSTcmtitiettxcnmhtsr par&acl cr sea un
brdkkww Liraixxdderin tzdh a oamwr a
to coopTtirfy fcfcte hex Qgcrs from the top of
her ha&to i'ji mti l or thereabouts, accord
inj; to tktyt&ad tbe urabreSa. Tteea, having-
Oxm pload & screen oriwren brru nrxt
io uaregcsBfmi startc of rltixv -x. vf,a
!egd, e tact, fkrsro and cceus. Flw I.
dior-? eeo tb oceapial betee oaa larj