"How dare you have that chest taken from my room! It must be carried up again immediately."

Shyly and trembling with fear Frau Franzka gazed at the angry man.

"Do not be so angry, Herr Foligno," she said. "I thought the chest was quite empty. I should not have brought it down here if I had known that you had so much money in it. But we did not touch it. Herr von Einern has the key."

The effect of these words upon the man was terrible. He staggered back as if struck by a sudden blow, staring from Frau Franzka to the Clerk.

He bit his lips without feeling that he drew blood and that a drop trickled down his chin. Frau Franzka's simple words had revealed all; his secret was betrayed; his guilt discovered.

Only for a second did terror paralyze him. He quickly collected himself, seeing that the only possibility of escape lay in maintaining absolute calmness, and with wonderful self-control he said in a menacing tone:

"You presumed to open the chest with a master key, and you, Herr von Einern, have this master key in your possession. I demand that it be instantly delivered to me."

Hitherto the Clerk had stood with folded arms, a motionless spectator of the scene before him. A contemptuous smile played about his lips. He made no reply to the Judge's demand.

"You do not answer me. You refuse to obey my orders?" the Judge continued. "I shall hold you accountable for this. Do not forget, sir, that this forcible breaking open of my property with a master key is a crime for which I hold you responsible. I leave you now to take instant steps for the enforcement of my right."

He turned towards the door, but before he had advanced a step the Clerk laid his hand upon his shoulder and said with grave decision:

"You can leave this room only as a prisoner, Herr Foligno. You are arrested."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Then Began a Struggle, a Fight for Life and Death]

The Judge's eyes flashed fire. His right hand sought his breast pocket and he drew from it a knife, but before he could use it the Clerk had seized him by the wrist, and then began a struggle, a fight for life and death between these two powerful men.

Frau Franzka screamed with terror; her husband stood trembling beside her, not venturing to come to the help of the wrestling pair; but I summoned all the physical force that I possessed--my foot pained me terribly as I sprang up, but I did not heed the pain--and I was just in the nick of time; the Judge had torn his hand loose and had raised it for a deadly lunge with the knife. I seized his wrist from behind; the Clerk clutched him by the throat, and our united strength succeeded in overpowering him, throwing him on the ground, and holding tight his right hand, which still held the knife. It was a terrible moment; my strength was all but gone, for the desperate wretch made frantic efforts to tear himself loose, but help was at hand. The doctor rushed into the room with three gendarmes following him. Without a thought the active little man threw himself upon the Judge, kneeled upon his chest and helped me to hold down the hand that held the knife.

"Seize and bind the monster!" he cried to the gendarmes, "or he will do more mischief with his knife."

The Judge could not but see that all further resistance was vain. He dropped the knife, which I seized and hurled to the end of the room.

"Let me go," he said sullenly. "You see that I can no longer defend myself."

We arose; first the Clerk, then I; I limped back in positive agony to my sofa; my help was no longer required. The Judge, too, arose, and, panting, stood between the Clerk and the doctor. He had given up all hope of escape, for the three gendarmes blocked all egress from the room, but his feverishly active mind devised new food for hope.

"Captain," he cried to the captain of the gendarmes, "captain, I call you to bear witness to the maltreatment I have received from these madmen, who have attacked me. I command you to stand by me--me, the District Judge. I order you to arrest these people, the Clerk, the doctor and the German Professor. I take all the responsibility upon myself."

The captain's martial countenance betrayed embarra.s.sment. He looked dubiously, first at the Judge, then at the Clerk.

"I do not know what I ought to do," he said, turning to the Clerk. "You command me to arrest Herr Foligno; he commands me to arrest you. After all, he is the District Judge."

The Clerk hastily approached the old, dingy bureau, took a key from his pocket and opened the upper drawer.

"I command you to arrest a murderer," he said. "He, and not Franz Schorn, committed the murder in the Lonely House. Here are the proofs--his bloodstained clothing and the banknotes which he stole. The responsibility is yours if the murderer escapes and you disobey my commands."

One look into the drawer, and the captain hesitated no longer. An hour afterwards, between two gendarmes, the murderer was driven to Laibach.

Half the entire population of Luttach crowded about the court house to see him driven away. The report had circulated throughout the little town with incredible swiftness that not Franz Schorn, but the District Judge was the criminal. When the prisoner was led from the court house to the carriage a fierce shout of rage greeted him. The gendarmes were obliged with their weapons to keep off the indignant populace in order to shield the prisoner from their violence. He, on his part, was now pale and trembling with cowardly fear; curses and execrations followed him as the carriage drove through the crowd.

But at that moment the lovely little Anna was seated on my sofa, thanking me over and over again, her eyes shining with joy--and what, after all, had I done to deserve her thanks?

CHAPTER XIV.

THE END OF THE PROFESSOR'S HOLIDAY.

The doctor, the Burgomaster and the Captain had driven to Laibach to require personally the instant liberation of Franz Schorn, whose innocence no one longer doubted. The doctor had promised to inform me by letter of the result of his efforts, and he kept his word. On the second day I received a long letter from him. There had been a tremendous commotion in Laibach when the District Judge of Luttach, manacled like a common criminal, had been received at the prison. The ultra Slavonic newspapers had hitherto triumphed in the announcement that the only German agitator in Luttach was nothing more or less than a miserable, ordinary criminal, and now they suffered a terrible blow in that the German agitator was no murderer; the criminal was a man who, although of Italian descent, had always laboured in the Slavonic cause. The Slav party, on the other hand, were half-inclined to swear to the innocence of the Judge and to stake all on the guilt of the hated German. But the doctor took good care that every sc.r.a.p of evidence against the true murderer should be well known; he was himself a zealous Slav, but so conscientious and honest a man, and so well known as prizing justice far above national prejudice, that he forced the newspapers of his party, by his truthful declarations, to advocate the cause of Franz Schorn, which they reluctantly did, although not very enthusiastically. They, as well as the doctor, found consolation, however, in the fact that District Judge Foligno was no true Slav, but in fact an Italian. Of course all national prejudices were powerless to influence the court at Laibach. The doctor wrote with real enthusiasm in regard to his reception by the investigating Judge, who had frankly informed him that suspicion of the District Judge had arisen in his mind while he was investigating the matter in Luttach, suspicion which was now substantiated by the admirable report of the Clerk, and that the evidence had created conviction. A most disagreeable task lay before him in having to investigate the actions of his superior in office, but he would unflinchingly follow his duty. The Attorney General, who had hitherto been firmly convinced of Schorn's guilt, could not but admit the evidence of his innocence and the proof of the Judge's criminality, and the honourable liberation of Schorn from imprisonment must take place immediately. It depended only upon certain formalities. If the Judge could be brought to confess, Schorn's freedom would be on the instant.

This hope, however, of bringing the criminal to an open confession was not destined to be fulfilled. He maintained his innocence with brazen effrontery until his hearing before the court, a.s.serting that he was the victim of shameful intrigue. All the evidence which I, the German Professor, had brought against him was founded, he declared, partly on lies, partly on prejudice. It was not true that I had found his bloodstained handkerchief in the neighbourhood of the Lonely House, for the handkerchief found in the drawer he had never lost. The blood on his handkerchief, his waistcoat, and his trousers came from the wound in his hand due to a fall among the rocks on the morning of the day of the murder, and of which he had innocently informed the Professor. He declared that I had found him changing his dress when I came to inform him of the discovery of the murdered man in the Lonely House. He had locked up the b.l.o.o.d.y clothing in the upper drawer of the chest in his sleeping apartment in my presence, and, of course, I knew where it was.

How the money and banknotes came in the drawer he did not know, but he suspected that during his absence I had placed them there myself, or had bribed Frau Franzka to put them into the chest in order that the farce might be played of the removal of the chest to my room and the discovery of the b.l.o.o.d.y articles, which would clear Franz Schorn of the guilt of the murder and throw it upon himself, the District Judge. He would not venture to a.s.sert that I was Schorn's accomplice in the crime, although it was possible, but I was certainly his accomplice in the theft of the money. Either to be rid of this accomplice, or to ensure his silence by saving his life, Schorn had cut the rope in the cave.

When the investigating Judge pointed out to him the improbability, nay the evident falsehood of this clumsy invention, the prisoner stoutly maintained its truth, and even a.s.serted that I had come to Luttach, on the pretense of pursuing natural history researches in Ukraine, in the interest of the German clique there, and to this end I had entered into close relations with Schorn, having as their result this scheme to ruin him. The Judge displayed an eloquence and keenness of intellect in proving the truth of his statements which the investigating Judge could not but admire; but, upon perceiving that he failed entirely in making any impression upon the impartial official, who was himself a Slav, he lost courage, and, declaring that he was too exhausted to endure further questioning, begged to be again conducted to prison.

An hour later the investigating Judge was informed that the prisoner had committed suicide in his cell. How he had contrived to procure the knife with which he stabbed himself to the heart could not be discovered. The bitter opponents of the government and of the court in Laibach maintained that it had been conveyed to him for the purpose of suicide, in order that the court might be relieved from the necessity of presenting before a jury a Slavonic patriot and fellow-countryman as a murderer.

"Since the Judge's suicide may be regarded as a confession," the doctor wrote, "we are momentarily awaiting the liberation of our Franz.

We--the good Burgomaster, the Captain and myself--are burning with eagerness to conduct the liberated man in triumph to Luttach. I will tell you by telegram when we may be expected."

The lovely little Anna was paying me a visit when I received the doctor's letter. We read it together. Tears of joy filled her eyes as we came to the end.

"I would rather," she said, "have Franz come back quietly, without any public demonstration; but the good doctor is right; there ought to be some atonement for the unjust disgrace of his arrest, and this must be made by an honourable reception."

All the men of the round table in the "Golden Vine" were of the same opinion.

In the evening, more carried than supported by Mizka and Frau Franzka, I ventured to leave my room and to take my place once more at the round table. I was received with extravagant delight. When I read aloud to the company there a.s.sembled the letter from the doctor, they declared unanimously that all Luttach must combine in making brilliant amends to Franz. It was remarkable how one single day had changed the mood of every one. Mosic, Weber, Meyer, Gunther, and Dietrich, hitherto the most violent opponents of "the German," were now the most zealous to obliterate all remembrance of their opposition. They could not praise Franz sufficiently, and gravely maintained that they never had believed in his guilt.

The telegram arrived on the morning of the next day, announcing that our friends would arrive in Luttach towards noon. I sent it to the Vice-Burgomaster, who had begged me to give him the earliest intelligence, that he might spread it through the town.

The time for festal preparation was short, but it was used diligently in bringing loads of oaken boughs from the grove on the Rusina, in making wreaths and garlands wherewith Schorn's house and the "Golden Vine" were decorated, for Franz was to be conducted first to the "Golden Vine," where in the garden a cask of the best wine was to be broached, and the Vice-Burgomaster was to welcome him in the name of his Luttach fellow-citizens and to express the joy that all felt in his return, as they drank to his health and welfare. And thus it verily happened. All Luttach was astir by ten o'clock. There were crowds on the road to Adelsberg and on the square before the court house and in the street before the "Golden Vine." When the carriages--two of them--at last came in sight, Franz was sitting in the first with the Burgomaster, while in the second the doctor drove with the Captain.

They were greeted with deafening applause and the crowd rushed towards them, all striving to be the first to extend a welcome to Franz Schorn.

It was impossible for the carriage to proceed through the crowded streets, when suddenly a stentorian voice exclaimed:

"Make way!"

It was the voice of the gigantic Ra.s.sak. He dextrously unharnessed the horses, and, seizing the pole himself, a.s.sisted by two savage-looking fellows--the very ones who, a couple of days before, would have been willing to kill the "murderer" and the "German dog"--on they went to the "Golden Vine." A dozen men helped to pull and push the vehicle, while Franz kept bowing and smiling in grateful acknowledgment of the shouts of welcome. The carriage stopped before the gateway of the hotel. Franz would have descended, but strong arms lifted him to Ra.s.sak's shoulders, and thus he was carried into the garden. The doctor, the Burgomaster and the Captain followed, laughing. The festal programme was carried out in the garden, except that the Burgomaster's speech and one cask of wine did not suffice. Speech followed speech, and I should have had a fine opportunity of admiring the Slavonic eloquence, if I could have understood a word of it all, but, unfortunately, the words were all Slavonic, even those in which Franz thanked the a.s.sembly for its sympathetic welcome. I could only guess at what he said from the shouts of applause. It was a stormy occasion and, after a fashion, a brilliant one, but it was not exactly a comfortable festival. This we had in the evening at the house of the doctor. My presence there, pretty little Anna declared, was quite indispensable, and so Ra.s.sak carried me thither on his burly shoulders. I could not possibly have walked. The doctor had invited only the Burgomaster, the Captain, the Clerk and myself to share in the joy of this first evening of the reunion of the betrothed pair and to be the witnesses of their happiness.

I certainly never pa.s.sed a more delightful evening. It was a positive delight to me, old man that I am. It warmed my heart to behold the handsome couple so full of bright antic.i.p.ations for the future. The merriment in our small circle was not loud; we were all somewhat under the influence of the very recent events, but we all quietly rejoiced in being delivered from our depressing anxiety. The doctor himself proposed the health of the young couple, and in a short speech congratulated us all upon the happy chance which had terminated the fearful episode. I noticed that as he spoke the beautiful young girl shook her head as if in disapproval. The toast was drunk with enthusiasm, and Anna joined in it; but, turning to the doctor and looking at him very gravely, she said:

"It was no chance that saved my Franz. It was G.o.d's own doing. In order to hide his first crime, the Judge attempted a second; he cut through the rope in the cave and, as a result, Franz saved the Professor's life. If Franz had not thus ventured his own life, he would have been lost. The truth would never have come to light. If the Judge had not cut the rope, the Herr Professor would not have sprained his foot, and he would not have been forced thereby to keep his room, nor would Frau Franzka have tried to procure him s.p.a.ce for his collection. Was this chance! No; it was an answer to my prayer. G.o.d ordained that Franz should risk his life to find his life."

"There is logic in your words, child," the doctor said with a smile; "it is the logic of pious, grateful faith, of which I would in nowise deprive you. But you need not frown, little girl, if I speak of a chance which we must all bless. Chance or Providence, the words express the same idea, that of strangely combined circ.u.mstances leading to a certain end. Was it chance or Providence that brought our dear Herr Professor to Luttach to catch b.u.t.terflies, and that the Captain sent him on the very first day up to St. Nikolas, whence he returned, thirsty, to the Lonely House? Keep your pious belief, child; it will be a source of hope and happiness for you while life lasts."

Two weeks after this delightful evening, I left Luttach to return to my northern home. I should have liked to have stayed longer in the charming little town, with people who had grown so dear to me, but my holidays were at an end, and the summer heat is so enervating at my age, that I did not dare to stay longer. I took leave of my dear ones there, but I have promised to return next spring, for I would not have the marriage of the happy couple celebrated without me.

THE END.