not equally have developed themselves? "Nay, the probability is, that it was at least in the course of the night following the 24th that the murder was committed. Had the body, according to the notion of the public prosecutor, been placed in the chapel in the forenoon of the 24th, it is next to impossible that it should not in the course of that day have been observed. That Saturday was the birthday of the Princess-a day when the road to the chapel must have been frequented by the villagers in the neighbourhood. The probability is that the deed had not then been committed; for the public prosecutor himself assumes, that the murder and the conveyance of the body to the chapel took place at the same time. But if the deed only took place on the night of the 24th, the whole fabric of presumptions, presumptions, so ingeniously built on the mysterious absence of the baroness from Hilgenberg on that day, falls to the ground. " And, after all, what was there in her conduct during that day to lead to the presumption of guilt! The view of the prosecutor, it must be recollected, is, that she came to Hilgenberg on that day, in consequence of previous concert, to keep the appointment alluded to in the letter of the 21st July, and the fragment found in the music-book. "But do the circumstances suit with that supposition? It was mere accident that the family of Baron Kettler did not accompany her to Hilgenberg on that day; in which case, how was she to have extricated herself from their company? By a pretended invitation from a friend who never existed? They who were her intimate friends, who knew with whom she had associated, could not have been deceived by such a fable. The idea of a concerted scheme of this kind is farther contradicted by her conduct. She receives a letter from Madame Seehausen-reads it puts it into the hands of the countess-is prevailed on by her to accept the invitation. Is there any evidence that she did not visit Madame Seehausen? It is said no such person was ever known to reside in Hilgenberg. That may be: it is not said that she resided in Hilgenberg. She was a foreigner: she may have been passing through the watering-place where her friend was; she may have stopped but for a single day at Madame Veitel's. "I do not dispute that, on the day in question, my client did visit the house of Madame Veitel. I say she went there to visit the friend who had requested her presence. The public prosecutor says she went there to meet her husband, with whom she afterwards walked through the garden, and in the direction of the mountains. The servant who carried the message speaks, indeed, of a young man whom she saw in Madame Veitel's; and this, it seems, according to the prosecutor's theory, was Hermann. She does not say she saw the parties meet; for Madame Veitel met and dismissed her at the door. "But it is plain, from her description of the gentleman she saw, that it was not Hermann. The dead man was found dressed in long loose nankeen pantaloons above his boots; this was the dress also in which he was last seen by the landlord early on the morning of the 24th. The young man in Madame Veitel's house wore tight buckskin pantaloons, with boots drawn over them.' How is this reconcilable? If Hermann was murdered in the course of the forenoon of the 24th, when did he change his dress so as to appear differently attired in Hilgenberg? When and where did he again change his dress between leaving Madame Veitel's and his murder? The idea that this person was Hermann, a position essential to the theory of the public prosecutor, is totally untenable. "That any lady and gentleman had been seen leaving Madame Veitel's in the direction of the mountains, rested on no evidence. The maid had not seen them; she spoke only of some report to that effect which she thought came from her mistress. Both the master and mistress were examined, and they stated distinctly they had seen nothing of the kind, and could not have said so. "The sceneat Madame Veitel's had no connexion whatever with the events in the Raubstein. "But the prosecutor insists that all doubt is removed by the fact, that the watch and the marriage-ring of the deceased are found in the possession of the accused. I admit at once the watch is Hermann's watch; the ring is Hermann's marriage-ring. But I ask what proof is there that these ever belonged to the deceased; what proof, in particular, that they were in his possession at or near to the time of his. murder? The housekeeper, the servants at K, the innkeeper at the forest, all speak only of a gold watch,' 'a gold ring; none of them did or could identify this gold watch and this ring. "Did Baron Ferdinand? He saw his brother in life for the last time when his marriage with my client took place. The separation occurred while he was on his travels; when he returned, Hermann had already gone abroad. What he may have possessed, what trinkets he may have worn after that time, it is impossible that Baron Ferdinand can know. "But how simple, after all, is the explanation? The watch was a marriage present, the ring was Hermann's wedding-ring. Is it not a well known practice for lovers or spouses who have separated, to return to each other the gifts they have received in their days of affection or of union; gifts which would only serve in future to awaken painful recollections? Was it not natural that, when the separation took place, these tokens of affection should have been returned by the husband to his wife? This was the view that occurred at once to the waiting-maid, as she has explained in her evidence. My client, too, never wore her wedding-ring after the separation. And why? It was returned, as the waiting-maid states, to her husband. "Thus, then, the circumstance on which the prosecutor insisted so strongly, admits of the simplest explanation. "But were it proved that Albertine von Preussach had really seen and spoken to her husband shortly before his death, is the case of the prosecutor materially advanced, so far as regards a guilty participation on her part in her husband's death? Were we even to concede that the involuntary exclamation of an agitated mother, uttered in a moment of distraction, inferred in her mind a suspicion the prosecutor calls it a convictionthat her daughter was not a stranger to her husband's death, it remains to be shown that that knowledge was of a criminal character. The prosecutor meets the point fairly, for he maintains that she was herself the perpetrator of the deed. "But by what proofs does he sup port this charge? None whatever. By assuming a fine-spun theory of a secret correspondence-a concerted interview-a meal among the ruinsa fit of intoxication on the part of the husband-a quarrel-an attempt at violence-the convenient discovery of a knife, and a blow dealt therewith by the wife, which at once reaches the heart of her husband! And this is all-literally all-which is gravely urged as proof against a person of the noble, the stainless character enjoyed by the prisoner at the bar. "But no! It is said, the evidence may not prove the deed, but it proves that she was capable of committing the deed. What is that evidence? "Has any single act in the course of her life been pointed out which leads to such a conclusion? Any act of cruelty which would make her careless of the life of a fellow-creature, capable of committing the deepest of crimes against the being who stood towards her in the most endearing of relations-her husband, the father of her dead son, of her surviving daughter? No; - trifling miserable gossip as to quarrels with servants, a box on the ear bestowed upon an impertinent waiting-woman, a sharp reply in answer to the imperious speeches of a dictatorial husband. What human being could be safe from the suspicion of being capable of murder, if trifles like these were to be raked up, collected, and seriously brought forward as proofs of such an accusation ? "Let the case be supposed that she had met her husband at the time appointed; that others also had been present, (and every thing seemed to point to more than one having been present on the occasion;) that a quarrel of some kind had ensued, in which the husband fell-the wife having no share in it-on the contrary, standing by a helpless spectator of the dreadful scene; that her own safety could only be purchased by her vowing secrecy in regard to what had passed-would not this account for all which had taken place, at least as plausibly as the hypothesis of the public prosecutor? Even if he insisted on the wound as a proved fact in the case, would it not be as well explained upon the supposition that she had ineffectually interfered to prevent her husband's fate, and been wounded in the attempt? The loss of the glove the scene in the bath-keeper's-her agitation on her return to the family of the countess her confusion on meeting Ferdinandthe expressions attributed to hereven her obstinate silence, which he fairly allowed to be the circumstance that seemed to weigh most against her, admitted, upon this view of the case, of a satisfactory ex planation. That silence might be the result of a mistaken notion of religious obligation-it might be the result of gratitude for her preservation;-the more strongly felt, the more consistently acted on, in proportion to the purity and ingenuousness of her own mind, and to her punctilious sense of duty in regard to the performance of obligations, even when these were in some measure extorted." Such was the substance (imperfectly reported) of a two hours' speech on the part of the advocate for the defence. The president proceeded to sum up. His speech was a masterpiece of clearness and precision-impartial and candid in the highest degree; yet the impression which it left on the mind of the advocate for the defence was, that his inclination was on the whole unfavourable to the prisoner, so far as his moral conviction went, though he pointed out, with the utmost fairness, the points of the case where the proof appeared to be narrow or defective. The jury were furnished with all the documents necessary for their consideration, and were retiring, after the address of the president, to consider their verdict. PART IV. THE DISCOVERY. SCARCELY had the first of the jury entered the retiring room in which they were to consider their sentence, when a violent confusion arose at one of the entrances to the court. Sounds were heard of some one endeavouring to force his way, whose entrance was resisted either by the officers of court or by the crowds, who, having already thronged the court to excess, were by no means disposed to give admission to any new comer. The determination of the stranger appeared, however, to have prevailed. A well-dressed man was observed making his way along the passage leading towards the bar: he reached it, and, addressing the judge with the utmost energy, exclaimed, " In the name of Almighty God, I demand a hearing; the accused is innocent!" All eyes were directed to the speaker. The jury, who were on the point of entering the jury-room, stood still. The president, doubtful whether he should at once interfere in consequence of this irregular disturbance of the proceedings, looked anxiously and sternly at the intruder. Some old ladies, who had taken a marvellous interest in the proceedings, exclaimed, "It is Hermann! The defender's counsel was prophetic in his anticipation." The old ladies were mistaken. The stranger was not Hermann. Ferdinand looked at him coldly and strangely; he passed Ferdinand with out noticing him. His glance sought 1 only the accused; and she-she recognised him. With pale and agitated features she saw him approach. She exerted herself to recover her composure, and hastily whispered to him a few words in English. The president, after some reflection, directed the jury to retire to their apartment, and the court to be cleared, and the accused to remain. It was done. He enquired the name of the stranger; and was answered, "Maximilian von Nordech, an officer of the army; of the fourth regiment of hussars." "What were the words whispered to you by the accused just now?" said the president. Nordech replied, "" Remember the oath.' She holds herself bound by an oath; but, if I may be permitted a few minutes' conversation with her, I think I can satisfy her that the obligation, if such existed, is at an end. I ask no private audience. The judge may be a witness to our conference. "Lady," began Nordech, his võice faltering, "death has loosed the bonds by which you conceived yourself bound. Your father is no more. He now looks down from a higher sphere upon a daughter who was never unworthy of his affection, and who was led to the only rash step of which she was guilty in life by maternal affection. He died without the pain of knowing in what suffering it had been the means of involving you; he died in happy ignorance, in resignation, 602 The Dead Man of St Anne's Chapel. of it was a member of the corps de The ballet of the theatre. and in faith. His last word was a Albertine looked kindly and gratefully towards her deliverer, but answered only with silence and with tears. Nordech, addressing himself to the president, began : 66 When our troops returned from France in 1816, I was quartered with the several squadrons of the fourth hussar regiment in this neighbour hood. The idleness of quarters led me to excursions into the surround. ing country. We officers were hos pitably received among the neighbouring gentry, and in the numerous bathing places, such as K-, which at that time possessed an excellent theatre. "In that theatre, to which I had accompanied some friend, I accident ally met with Baron Hermann von Preussach. We had served together in the campaign of 1809, and I was under obligations to him. I felt pleasure in meeting him again, but not unmingled with a feeling of pain. He was sadly altered. The handsome and noble-looking-youth had become prematurely old; his limbs stiff and feeble; his spirit gone; even his dress bore the traces either of negli She was "Accident led to further disclosures on his part. Among other acquaintances which I and my comrade had formed, was that of the family of Baron Kettler von Blumenrode, at whose house a young lady was on a visit-Madame Siegfeld. too attractive and beautiful not to form the frequent subject of our con versations. At one of these Preussach was present, and the extreme attention with which he listened could not escape my observation. The next time we were alone, he began the most particular enquiries as to Madame Siegfeld. I told him all I knew, and when I had exhausted the subject, he sat for a little, brooding and thought ful, and then broke silence in earnest. To my astonishment I now learned that Albertine von Siegfeld was his separated wife. He spoke of her with such affection, with such animation, that he affected me in turn. He con fessed that, since the separation, he had lived in a state of oral degradation at which he shuddered. He felt that his only chance depended on a re-union with his wife. He implored me to act as mediator between them; to be the bearer of his repentant prayer to his ife. I shrunk back: I was vero his the task: gence or of poverty. I knew he had represented to him the been rich; I had heard he had made ance. a brilliant match; and this I could not reconcile with his present appearHe seemed to have a suspicion of my thought; but on this occasion we had no time for any explanations. f reformation himerical, the hopeless nature of the attempt. This time he desisted. But the attempt was often renewed. eary of the subject, I began to avoid Preussach, But I did not avoid Blumenrode; and, strangely enough, I began to think "In the course of our subsequent that Albertine eyed me with particular intercourse, I saw that his mind was ill attention. I was not vain enough to at ease with itself: he lived in society ascribe her notice to any personal at beneath his rank, and with which in tractions; but the suspicion flashed his better moments he was disgusted. across my mind that Hermann had, I was happy to give him the opportu- without my interference, found the nity of finding a better circle among means of opening a written communi cation with his wife, and had alluded "By degrees he became more com- to me as one to whom he had confided municative; he told me, in fragments, his secret.no whom afterwards that the officers of my regiment. the history of his marriage and se- my conjecture was paration. He avowed himself, with "To be Correct. disclosures took place He told to be the guilty person. between Albef; broktold me farther, how he had bertine told ertinean ening on whi with his friends, gone abroad told me one accompanie for a time, returned, and had now her in an evening walk that she knew lived on for some months at K- I was acquainted with without plan or object. An unfor- that she quainted with misionit tunate attachment still fettered him, though the connexion had long be come wearisome to him. The subject her situation; Herme to be a which I had been charged by mann; that she believed fide in me; but that to Hermann she had but one answer to make that she never would accede to his wish for a re-union. She had forgiven him; but the will of her father, which she never would oppose, rendered all thoughts of re-union hopeless, even if her own feelings could have led her to such a step. I vowed that I would never lend countenance to any plan on the part of Hermann which did not meet with her approbation. "From this house I was to conduct Albertine to a lonely ruin on the top of a neighbouring eminence; a spot which Hermann had discovered in the course of his rambles, and where he himself was to be in waiting. " I could not disguise from myself the questionable, even the dangerous nature of this scheme. I would will ingly have frustrated it; but now Albertine seemed anxious for the interview. She was determined to bring the question as to the child to a point. I was obliged at last to reconcile myself to the plan. Hermann himself could not enter Hilgenberg, where he was known; Albertine could not venture to be seen in his company. To see him at Blumenrode was impossible; while her being seen in my company, either in Hilgenberg or the neighObourhood, would excite no remark. In short the plan, hazardous as it might be, was the only one which appeared practicable. "So ended my first conversation with Albertine. I communicated every thing to Hermann. He was silent. The matter appeared to rest. To my surprise and terror, however, I discovered not only that he continued his correspondence with Blumenrode, but received answers from thence. I reproached him; he embraced me, and exclaimed in an agitated tone, - Max! interfere not with my plans. I count upon you. Albertine trusts to me -and yourself! All will soon be clear to you.' "My astonishment was indescribable. I still doubted: I thought Hermann must be deceiving me or himself. Yet it was as he said. Al> bertine had consented, not indeed to a re-union, but to give him a meeting. Hermann, it appears, had assailed her in her tenderest part-her affection for her child. He had threatened that 3 he and his family could and would reclaim the child by law, if she refused him the interview he asked. How Albertine, with her clear intellect, could allow herself to be terrified with this bugbear of a legal reclamation of the child, I know not; but so it was. She consented to Hermann's plan. That plan was as follows: "The gentry of the neighbourhood held weekly assemblies in Hilgenberg, and Albertine generally accompanied the Kettler family thither. The parties were numerous gentlemen and ladies of all ages; excursions amusements of all kinds afforded opportunities for any one who chose to separate from the rest to do so with out being observed. "It was arranged that Albertine should be summoned from her party by a pretended message from a friend, to whom we gave the name of Madame Seehausen, and conducted to an appointed spot where I should be in waiting. The place fixed was the residence of a respectable woman in Hilgenberg. "The 10th of August was fixed for its execution. That day, however, the inclemency of the weather prevented. It was delayed for another week. "I know not how it was, but during this interval the thought more than once crossed my mind that Hermann had designs which he did not communicate to me or to Albertine. I hinted this to her in writing. I received no written answer; but I learned in haste from Albertine verbally, that on the 17th she would be at the place of rendezvous. On "Hermann and I were at our posts. But Albertine - I thanked Heaven for it in secret-Albertine came not. The illness of one of the family detained her. "Hermann was not daunted. the 24th, he was positive that Albertine would make her appearance. "That ill-omened day approached; the most eventful, the most painful of my life. Early in the morning-it was a Saturday-I rode towards Hilgenberg. As I cast my eyes upwards in passing, I saw the concerted signal that Hermann was in the ruin. I hurried towards the assembly-room at Hilgenberg. "I looked at the visiting list. I prayed that the Kettlers might be again detained. They were: but Albertine came-she had accompanied the family of Langsitz. "There now remained no choice. The billet was despatched. After an |