classic mystery and detective stories-第60节

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gone　to　bed；　but　as　the　voices　were　seemingly　in　quiet

conversation；　her　alarm　subsided；　and　she　concluded　that　instead　of

having　gone　to　bed　her　mistress　was　still　up。　　In　her　pain　she

heard　the　door　gently　open；　and　then　she　heard　footsteps　in　the

garden。　　This　surprised　her　very　much。　　She　couldn't　think　what　the

young　master　could　want　going　out　at　that　hour。　　She　became

terrified　without　knowing　exactly　at　what。　　Fear　quite　drove　away

the　toothache；　which　had　not　since　returned。　　After　lying　there

quaking　for　some　time；　again　she　heard　footsteps　in　the　garden；　the

door　opened　and　closed　gently；　voices　were　heard；　and　she　at　last

distinctly　heard　her　mistress　say；　〃Be　a　man；　Franz。　　Good…night

sleep　well；〃　upon　which　Franz　replied　in　a　tone　of　great　agony；

〃There's　no　chance　of　sleep　for　me。〃　　Then　all　was　silent。　　Next

morning　her　mistress　seemed　〃very　queer。〃　　Her　young　master　went

out　very　early；　but　soon　came　back　again；　and　there　were　dreadful

scenes　going　on　in　his　room；　as　she　heard；　but　she　didn't　know　what

it　was　all　about。　　She　heard　of　the　murder　from　a　neighbor；　but

never　thought　of　its　having　any　particular　interest　for　Mr。　Franz；

though；　of　course；　he　would　be　very　sorry　for　the　Lehfeldts。



The　facts　testified　to　by　the　servant；　especially　the　going　out　at

that　late　hour；　and　the　〃dreadful　scenes〃　of　the　morning；　seemed　to

bear　but　one　interpretation。　　Moreover；　she　identified　the

waistcoat　as　the　one　worn　by　Franz　on　the　day　preceding　the　fatal

night。





III



THE　ACCUSED





Now　at　last　the　pent…up　wrath　found　a　vent。　　From　the　distracting

condition　of　wandering　uncertain　suspicion；　it　had　been　recalled

into　the　glad　security　of　individual　hate。　　Although　up　to　this

time　Kerkel　had　borne　an　exemplary　reputation；　it　was　now

remembered　that　he　had　always　been　of　a　morose　and　violent　temper；

a　hypocrite　in　religion；　a　selfish　sensualist。　　Several　sagacious

critics　had　long　〃seen　through　him〃；　others　had　〃never　liked　him〃；

others　had　wondered　how　it　was　he　kept　his　place　so　long　in

Lehfeldt's　shop。　　Poor　fellow！　his　life　and　actions；　like　those　of

every　one　else　when　illuminated　by　a　light　thrown　back　upon　them；

seemed　so　conspicuously　despicable；　although　when　illuminated　in


their　own　light　they　had　seemed　innocent　enough。　　His　mother's

frantic　protestations　of　her　son's　innocenceher　assertions　that

Franz　loved　Lieschen　more　than　his　own　soulonly　served　to　envelop

her　in　the　silent　accusation　of　being　an　accomplice；　or　at　least　of

being　an　accessory　after　the　fact。



I　cannot　say　why　it　was；　but　I　did　not　share　the　universal　belief。

The　logic　seemed　to　me　forced；　the　evidence　trivial。　　On　first

hearing　of　Kerkel's　arrest；　I　eagerly　questioned　my　informant

respecting　his　personal　appearance；　and　on　hearing　that　he　was

fair；　with　blue　eyes　and　flaxen　hair；　my　conviction　of　his

innocence　was　fixed。　　Looking　back　on　these　days；　I　am　often　amused

at　this　characteristic　of　my　constructive　imagination。　　While

rejecting　the　disjointed　logic　of　the　mob；　which　interpreted　his

guilt；　I　was　myself　deluded　by　a　logic　infinitely　less　rational。

Had　Kerkel　been　dark；　with　dark　eyes　and　beard；　I　should　probably

have　sworn　to　his　guilt；　simply　because　the　idea　of　that　stranger

had　firmly　fixed　itself　in　my　mind。



All　that　afternoon；　and　all　the　next　day；　the　busy　hum　of　voices

was　raised　by　the　one　topic　of　commanding　interest。　　Kerkel　had

been　examined。　　He　at　once　admitted　that　a　secret　betrothal　had　for

some　time　existed　between　him　and　Lieschen。　　They　had　been　led　to

take　this　improper　step　by　fear　of　her　parents；　who；　had　the

attachment　been　discovered；　would；　it　was　thought；　have　separated

them　for　ever。　　Herr　Lehfeldt's　sternness；　no　less　than　his

superior　position；　seemed　an　invincible　obstacle；　and　the　good

mother；　although　doting　upon　her　only　daughter；　was　led　by　the　very

intensity　of　her　affection　to　form　ambitious　hopes　of　her

daughter's　future。　　It　was　barely　possible　that　some　turn　in　events

might　one　day　yield　an　opening　for　their　consent；　but　meanwhile

prudence　dictated　secrecy；　in　order　to　avert　the　most　pressing

danger；　that　of　separation。



And　so　the　pretty　Lieschen；　with　feminine　instinct　of　ruse；　had

affected　to　treat　her　lover　with　indifference；　and　to　compensate

him　and　herself　for　this　restraint；　she　had　been　in　the　habit　of

escaping　from　home　once　or　twice　a　week；　and　spending　a　delicious

hour　or　two　at　night　in　the　company　of　her　lover　and　his　mother。

Kerkel　and　his　mother　lived　in　a　cottage　a　little　way　outside　the

town。　　Lehfeldt's　shop　stood　not　many　yards　from　the　archway。　　Now；

as　in　Nuremberg　no　one　was　abroad　after　ten　o'clock；　except　a　few

loungers　at　the　cafes　and　beer…houses；　and　these　were　only　to　be

met　inside　the　town；　not　outside　it；　Lieschen　ran　extremely　little

risk　of　being　observed　in　her　rapid　transit　from　her　father's　to

her　lover's　house。　　Nor；　indeed；　had　she　ever　met　anyone　in　the

course　of　these　visits。



On　the　fatal　night　Lieschen　was　expected　at　the　cottage。　　Mother

and　son　waited　at　first　hopefully；　then　anxiously；　at　last　with

some　vague　uneasiness　at　her　non…appearance。　　It　was　now　a　quarter

past　elevennearly　an　hour　later　than　her　usual　time。　　They

occasionally　went　to　the　door　to　look　for　her；　then　they　walked　a

few　yards　down　the　road；　as　if　to　catch　an　earlier　glimpse　of　her

advancing　steps。　　But　in　vain。　　The　half…hour　struck。　　They　came

back　into　the　cottage；　discussing　the　various　probabilities　of

delay。　　Three…quarters　struck。　　Perhaps　she　had　been　detected；

perhaps　she　was　ill；　perhapsbut　this　was　his　mother's　suggestion；

and　took　little　hold　of　himthere　had　been　visitors　who　had　stayed

later　than　usual；　and　Lieschen；　finding　the　night　so　advanced；　had

postponed　her　visit　to　the　morrow。　　Franz；　who　interpreted

Lieschen's　feelings　by　his　own；　was　assured　that　no　postponement　of

a　voluntary　kind　was　credible　of　her。　　Twelve　o'clock　struck。

Again　Franz　went　out　into　the　road；　and　walked　nearly　up　to　the

archway；　he　returned　with　heavy　sadness　and　foreboding　at　his

heart；　reluctantly　admitting　that　now　all　hope　of　seeing　her　that

night　was　over。　　That　night？　　Poor　sorrowing　heart；　the　night　was

to　be　eternal！　　The　anguish　of　the　desolate　〃never　more〃　was

awaiting　him。



There　is　something　intensely　pathetic　in　being　thus；　as　it　were；

spectators　of　a　tragic　drama　which　is　being　acted　on　two　separate

stages　at　oncethe　dreadful　link　of　connection；　which　is　unseen　to

the　separate　actors；　being　only　too　vividly　seen　by　the　spectators。

It　was　with　some　interest　that　I；　who　believed　in　Kerkel's

innocence；　heard　this　story；　and　in　imagination　followed　its

unfolding　stage。　　He　went　to　bed；　not；　as　may　be　expected；　to

sleep；　tossing　restlessly　in　feverish　agitation；　conjuring　up　many

imaginary　terrorsbut　all　of　them　trifles　compared　with　the　dread

reality　which　he　was　so　soon　to　face。　　He　pictured　her　weepingand

she　was　lying　dead　on　the　cold　pavement　of　the　dark　archway。　　He

saw　her　in　agitated　eloquence　pleading　with　offended　parentsand

she　was　removed　for　ever　from　all　agitations；　with　the　peace　of

death　upon　her　young　face。



At　an　early　hour　he　started；　that　he　might　put　an　end　to　his

suspense。　　He　had　not　yet　reached　the　archway　before　the　shattering

news　burst　upon　him。　　From　that　moment　he　remembered　nothing。　　But

his　mother　described　his　ghastly　agitation；　as；　throwing　himself

upon　her　neck；　he　told　her；　through　dreadful　sobs；　the　calamity

which　had　fallen。　　She　did　her　best　to　comfort　him；　but　he　grew

wilder　and　wilder；　and　rolled　upon　the　ground　in　the　agony　of　an

immeasurable　despair。　　She　trembled　for　his　reason　and　his　life。

And　when　the　messengers　came　to　seek　him；　she　spoke　but　the　simple

truth　in　saying　that　he　was　like　one　distracted。　　Yet　no　sooner　had

a　glimpse　of　light　dawned　on　him　that　some　vague　suspicion　rested

on　him　in　reference　to　the　murder；　than　he　started　up；　flung　away

his　agitation；　and；　with　a　calmness　which　was　awful；　answered　every

question；　and　seemed　nerved　for　every　trial。　　From　that　moment　not

a　sob　escaped　him　until；　in　the　narrative　of　the　night's　events；　he

came　to　that　part　which　told　of　the　sudden　disclosure　of　his

bereavement。　　And　the　simple；　straightforward　manner　in　which　he

told　this　tale；　with　a　face　entirely　bloodless；　and　eyes　that

seemed　to　have　withdrawn　all　their　light　inwards；　made　a　great

impression　on　the　audience；　which　was　heightened　into　sympathy　when

the　final　sob；　breaking　through　the　forced　calmness；　told　of　the

agony　which　was　eating　its　fiery　way　through　the　heart。



The　story　was　not　only　plausible　in　itself；　but　accurately　tallied

with　what　before　had　seemed　like　the　criminating　evidence　of　the

maid；　tallied；　moreover；　precisely　as　to　time；　which　would　hardly

have　been　the　case　had　the　story　been　an　invention。　　As　to　the

waistcoat　which　had　figured　so　conspicuously　in　a