The Lonely House Part 13

In her distress Anna went on to say that she did not venture to mention her suspicion to the Captain--he was a friend of the Judge's--and only to her betrothed, from whom she kept no secrets, did she tell what was in her mind. He begged her, however, not to confide in any other human being. Franz declared that the Judge was not capable of such villainy.

He tried to prove to her that her suspicions were groundless. "Does not he often climb about the rocks?" he asked. "Even had he been in the neighbourhood of the Lonely House, that ought to be no ground of suspicion against him, for I myself was met by the Herr Professor in the forest, as I was prowling about in hopes of meeting you." When her lover said this, Anna was seized with a dreadful anxiety lest he might really be suspected, and Franz, too, could understand that he was in peril. He knew how he was disliked, and how any opportunity would be seized to do him harm.

Franz had insisted, however, that the Judge was incapable of the murder, and he had forbidden Anna to say one word further upon the subject. "Because he is my enemy," he told her; "because he is always circulating damaging reports of me behind my back, we must take care not to be unjust towards him." He had spoken thus until yesterday, but when he returned from the expedition to the cave and told Anna of his adventure there, he had suddenly changed his opinion with regard to what she had always thought. "It is beyond doubt," he said, "that the Judge cut the rope. What reason could he have for such an act! He wished to plunge the Professor into the abyss. I am now convinced that the Professor saw him also in the neighbourhood of the Lonely House.

You were not deceived when you recognized him on the upper pathway. He fears that the Professor may betray him, and wishes to put so dangerous a witness out of the way. There could be no other reason for his infamous attempt upon the life of the kind old man, whose friend he pretends to be. He planned a murder, and now I can believe also that he is the murderer of your father. Let him take care; I shall speak to the Professor. I will tell him of your suspicion; he will tell me whether he saw the Judge that day." But Franz soon after was arrested and Anna felt it her duty to do what he had wished to do.

"That is why I am come to you, Herr Professor," she concluded; "you must counsel me. You must help me to discover the real criminal and to set an innocent man at liberty."

While Anna had been speaking, the doctor, who had also seated himself beside my bed, had been continually getting up and sitting down again, possessed by a feverish restlessness, although listening in silence to every word spoken by the young girl. Now that Anna had finished, he exclaimed:

"Do you want to drive two old men crazy with your deuce of a story?

Child, have you had such thoughts in your head and heart for weeks and never said a word of them? Think of what might have been done in those weeks! Think of how suspicion might have been turned in other directions! You are sure, Herr Professor, that you did not see the Judge on the rocky pathway?"

"I am sure of it."

"But may he not have been there without your seeing him, or are you sure that he was not there?"

"I believe that he was there."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "You must help me!"]

"And what reason have you for your belief? Out with it, Herr Professor!

The scales are falling from my eyes. I begin to see clearly. This deuce of a girl has enlightened my stupidity, but what is the use of my seeing? Franz and the child have both shown confidence in you, and you must justify it. Out with what you know without any reserve!"

He was right; I could not be silent. The half promise which I had once given to the Judge to protect him from any chaffing to which he might be subjected with regard to the pocket handkerchief found where it had been could not bind me. I told of my finding the b.l.o.o.d.y handkerchief and of the Judge's explanation.

"It is he! It is he and no other!" exclaimed the doctor, quite beside himself. "Did I not always say that the murderer must have been an intimate friend of the old man? Oh, blind fool that I have been! Why did I not think of him, when for two weeks he wore a black glove on his right hand? He had good reason to wish to see you vanish in the abyss.

You, who could bring such evidence against him. And you fell into his trap, and have been silent all this while, without harbouring any suspicion of him! For shame, Herr Professor! No, you need not be ashamed of yourself, you kind, old, unsuspicious man; but I could tear my hair for being such a fool and letting him lead me by the nose as he has done."

"Are you sure now that you are not deceiving yourself?" I asked very gravely. My heart was beating violently. There is something fearful in such a suspicion. Suddenly as it had arisen, it had now entire possession of me; but had I not entertained the same, and perhaps with more reason, of Franz Schorn? Could I trust myself since I had once deceived myself?

No such reflections troubled the doctor:

"I am so convinced," he said, clapping his hands as if in triumph, "that I would myself condemn the fellow to be hanged, if it lay in my province to do so. Hanged he shall be, I promise you, little girl, and we will take your Franz in triumph from the prison in Laibach and carry him home. How it is to be done, I do not see at present; but, rely upon it, I will do it. I will follow the murderer's tracks like a bloodhound. He has no idea that he is suspected, and that I have discovered his plots. He shall find it out, but only when we are taking Franz from prison in Laibach. Until then not a word to anybody, Herr Professor."

"Is it not our duty to inform the court in Laibach of what we suspect and of our grounds for doing so?"

"Not a word in that quarter. With all due reverence for the gentlemen in Laibach, the Judges and the Attorney General; before they can make up their minds to believe that a colleague, a District Judge, is a common murderer and thief, the proofs must be as clear as daylight.

Only when we deliver him over to them, and they must do their part, can we be sure of them. I would sooner confide in our Clerk; he would throw all forbearance to the winds; but should we admit him to our confidence now, we should be placing him in a very embarra.s.sing position, for the District Judge is, after all, his chief. Therefore, not a word, Herr Professor, until we have further proofs against the scoundrel. Now that we are on the scent, it will, I hope, not be long."

I was obliged to admit that the doctor's plan was the right one, and my admission flattered him.

"Do you not remember how day before yesterday evening the Judge said with a sneer, 'A great criminal lawyer is lost in you, doctor'? I will prove to him that he was right. Only trust me, Herr Professor; you shall not repent it. But be sure to follow a piece of advice which I must give you. Remember that it is to the Judge's interest to be rid of you; therefore, beware of him. It will do no harm to have your revolver where you can reach it in a moment, day or night."

I promised to follow his advice. We talked on for half an hour very pleasantly. The doctor was in the best humour in the world, and the charming little Anna was now so full of hope for a speedy reunion with her Franz that she almost forgot her grief at his imprisonment. She was indeed a lovely child, and as she talked on so heart-free and confidentially with us two old men, I was really in love with her myself. Upon their departure the doctor promised me that he would allow me to leave my bed on the following day, and Anna promised to pay me repeated visits so long as I was confined to my room. Thus we parted in the most friendly manner. The doctor turned as he was about to close the door behind him and said:

"Do you know, Herr Professor, what comforts me in this cursed affair?"

"What?"

"That Foligno is no Slav, but an Italian. Believe me, a Slav would be incapable of such villainy. Good-night, Herr Professor."

CHAPTER XIII.

AN OLD CHEST.

Three very wearisome days ensued. To be sure, I was allowed to leave my bed and was no longer forced to apply cold bandages to my sprained ankle, but I was a prisoner on a very uncomfortable sofa, whereon my leg was stretched out, and therefore condemned to intolerable, tedious idleness. I could not even move sufficiently to prepare my treasures--the b.u.t.terflies and beetles--for my collection. My beautiful _Caecigena_ caterpillars had to be fed by Mizka, and I was obliged to congratulate myself that she undertook what must have been a very humdrum task with amiable readiness.

For three days the doctor had decreed that I must keep a rec.u.mbent position; thereafter I might sit up on the sofa and move about the room a little. I looked forward to the expiration of this time with unfeigned longing, for such enforced idleness is intolerable for a healthy man. Visitors were not lacking during those endless three days.

The gentlemen of Luttach took pains to entertain me, but their visits were more of a pain than a pleasure, for the subject of their conversation was forever the same--the a.s.sured guilt of Franz Schorn.

No one had the least doubt that he was the criminal. The Judge had shown them so many proofs of it that they were almost provoked with me because I would not join in the universal condemnation of the man, but declared that it was our duty to believe in the possibility of his innocence as long as he was not officially condemned. More than this I could not say, after my promise to the doctor, therefore I was compelled to listen silently when the alleged proofs of Schorn's guilt were discussed, which were downright fabrications. I looked forward with some dread to a visit from the Judge. It would have been almost impossible for me to appear unembarra.s.sed in his presence. But the duty of playing the hypocrite and feigning friends.h.i.+p was fortunately not enforced upon me. He not only did not call upon me, but sent an excuse by Mizka. He was forced to go to Gorz for a few days, and had so much to do before his departure that he had not a quarter of an hour to call his own. Upon his return he hoped to find me entirely recovered.

The doctor was irritated by this journey. It deranged his schemes. He wished to have an opportunity to watch the man narrowly, which it would be impossible for him to do in Gorz, the doctor was not, therefore, in a very good humour, and his visits would have contributed but little to my enlivenment had not the charming little Anna always accompanied him.

The lovely young girl crept further and further into my heart with every visit. While we two old men were feverish with impatience to act, she bore this state of anxiety with angelic patience and admirable serenity. She was firm in her pious faith in Divine justice; she was sure that we should succeed in rescuing the innocent and in bringing the guilty to punishment. This conviction made it possible for her to wait patiently.

At last the tiresome three days were over. On the fourth day the doctor gave me permission to sit up on the sofa, and as long as my foot did not pain me, to take several steps about my room. I breathed more freely. Now I could occupy myself. Before my accident I had collected a wealth of material which had all to be arranged. My _Lepidoptera_ were to be mounted, my _Coleoptera_ prepared, some doubtful species named, etc. Thus I had an abundance of work for several days and need fear no ennui.

Of course, I wished to begin work immediately, when an obstacle presented itself which I had never thought of. I had no place to spread out my entomological treasures, or where I could put my boards for mounting the b.u.t.terflies, which were now packed together in my trunk, but would take considerable room when spread out to receive the precious insects. Hitherto I had found the lack of furniture in my simple room not inconvenient, but now it became so. If I could only have a bureau with two or three drawers in which I could lay the boards for the accommodation of my spoils, all would be well and I should be quite content.

Perhaps Frau Franzka could help me. There must be some such bureau in Luttach. Frau Franzka was summoned. The word "bureau" she did not understand, but when I described to her the piece of furniture that I wished, she exclaimed joyfully:

"Ah, the Herr Professor means a chest! That is easily procured.

Upstairs in the Judge's sleeping-room there is a large old chest with four drawers. It is not beautiful, but very roomy. If the Herr Professor would like it, I will gladly have it brought down."

Its lack of beauty was of no consequence to me, in consideration of the s.p.a.ce it afforded, but I did not like to take the chest from the chamber of the Judge. I preferred not to ask of him the smallest favour. I said so to Frau Franzka, but she made light of my scruples, saying:

"The Herr Foligno never uses the old chest. He used to put his linen in it, but now he keeps it in a very fine new chest which I bought for him, and which stands in his parlour. The old chest is empty; the Judge will be glad to have it taken out of his room."

"But Herr Foligno is still away. You cannot ask his permission."

"It is not necessary. The chest belongs to me. Herr Foligno, besides, owes me a great deal of money, and he cannot object to my bringing down for the Herr Professor an old chest which he does not use."

I tried to make objection, but Frau Franzka was a resolute lady, and persisted in what she had once decided upon. She called her husband and a servant, and sent them up into the Judge's sleeping-room to bring down the chest, and in a few minutes, against the long bare wall of my room there stood a large, old-fas.h.i.+oned bureau, not elegant, indeed, but painted black, and with four drawers which gave abundant room for my requirements.

"There is the old chest," Frau Franzka said with satisfaction. "The Herr Professor need not fear; I will take it upon myself to settle matters with the Judge; but I must see if he has left anything in the drawers. I don't think so, but if it should be the case, I can easily transfer them to his new chest."

She tried to draw out the topmost drawer by its metal handles, but it would not open.

"That is strange," she said. "The wood must have swelled so that the drawer sticks."

"Perhaps it is locked," I remarked.

"Oh, no, certainly not. The Judge never locks his chests; he always leaves them open, and, besides, I do not know whether he had any key, but we can soon see. There is just such another chest in our sleeping-room; my husband has the key and we can see if it will open it."

She said several words in Slavonic to her husband, and he took a queer little key out of his pocket and handed it to her.

The key fitted in the lock and turned. Frau Franzka then opened the topmost drawer without difficulty. She glanced inside it and recoiled with a slight scream.