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diff --git a/1835-h/1835-h.htm b/1835-h/1835-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..daf79e8 --- /dev/null +++ b/1835-h/1835-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2923 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Case of the Pool Of Blood in The Pastor's Study, by Grace Isabel + Colbron and Augusta Groner + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Case of The Pool of Blood in the +Pastor's Study, by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Case of The Pool of Blood in the Pastor's Study + +Author: Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner + +Release Date: October 29, 2008 [EBook #1835] +Last Updated: October 14, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POOL OF BLOOD *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE CASE OF THE POOL OF BLOOD IN THE PASTOR’S STUDY + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + Contents + </h3> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION TO JOE MULLER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> JOE MULLER: DETECTIVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE CASE OF THE POOL OF BLOOD IN THE + PASTOR’S STUDY </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + INTRODUCTION TO JOE MULLER + </h2> + <p> + Joseph Muller, Secret Service detective of the Imperial Austrian police, + is one of the great experts in his profession. In personality he differs + greatly from other famous detectives. He has neither the impressive + authority of Sherlock Holmes, nor the keen brilliancy of Monsieur Lecoq. + Muller is a small, slight, plain-looking man, of indefinite age, and of + much humbleness of mien. A naturally retiring, modest disposition, and two + external causes are the reasons for Muller’s humbleness of manner, which + is his chief characteristic. One cause is the fact that in early youth a + miscarriage of justice gave him several years in prison, an experience + which cast a stigma on his name and which made it impossible for him, for + many years after, to obtain honest employment. But the world is richer, + and safer, by Muller’s early misfortune. For it was this experience which + threw him back on his own peculiar talents for a livelihood, and drove him + into the police force. Had he been able to enter any other profession, his + genius might have been stunted to a mere pastime, instead of being, as + now, utilised for the public good. + </p> + <p> + Then, the red tape and bureaucratic etiquette which attaches to every + governmental department, puts the secret service men of the Imperial + police on a par with the lower ranks of the subordinates. Muller’s + official rank is scarcely much higher than that of a policeman, although + kings and councillors consult him and the Police Department realises to + the full what a treasure it has in him. But official red tape, and his + early misfortune... prevent the giving of any higher official standing to + even such a genius. Born and bred to such conditions, Muller understands + them, and his natural modesty of disposition asks for no outward honours, + asks for nothing but an income sufficient for his simple needs, and for + aid and opportunity to occupy himself in the way he most enjoys. + </p> + <p> + Joseph Muller’s character is a strange mixture. The kindest-hearted man in + the world, he is a human bloodhound when once the lure of the trail has + caught him. He scarcely eats or sleeps when the chase is on, he does not + seem to know human weakness nor fatigue, in spite of his frail body. Once + put on a case his mind delves and delves until it finds a clue, then + something awakes within him, a spirit akin to that which holds the + bloodhound nose to trail, and he will accomplish the apparently + impossible, he will track down his victim when the entire machinery of a + great police department seems helpless to discover anything. The high + chiefs and commissioners grant a condescending permission when Muller + asks, “May I do this? ... or may I handle this case this way?” both + parties knowing all the while that it is a farce, and that the department + waits helpless until this humble little man saves its honour by solving + some problem before which its intricate machinery has stood dazed and + puzzled. + </p> + <p> + This call of the trail is something that is stronger than anything else in + Muller’s mentality, and now and then it brings him into conflict with the + department,... or with his own better nature. Sometimes his unerring + instinct discovers secrets in high places, secrets which the Police + Department is bidden to hush up and leave untouched. Muller is then taken + off the case, and left idle for a while if he persists in his opinion as + to the true facts. And at other times, Muller’s own warm heart gets him + into trouble. He will track down his victim, driven by the power in his + soul which is stronger than all volition; but when he has this victim in + the net, he will sometimes discover him to be a much finer, better man + than the other individual, whose wrong at this particular criminal’s hand + set in motion the machinery of justice. Several times that has happened to + Muller, and each time his heart got the better of his professional + instincts, of his practical common-sense, too, perhaps,... at least as far + as his own advancement was concerned, and he warned the victim, defeating + his own work. This peculiarity of Muller’s character caused his undoing at + last, his official undoing that is, and compelled his retirement from the + force. But his advice is often sought unofficially by the Department, and + to those who know, Muller’s hand can be seen in the unravelling of many a + famous case. + </p> + <p> + The following stories are but a few of the many interesting cases that + have come within the experience of this great detective. But they give a + fair portrayal of Muller’s peculiar method of working, his looking on + himself as merely an humble member of the Department, and the comedy of + his acting under “official orders” when the Department is in reality + following out his directions. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + JOE MULLER: DETECTIVE + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CASE OF THE POOL OF BLOOD IN THE PASTOR’S STUDY + </h2> + <p> + The sun rose slowly over the great bulk of the Carpathian mountains lying + along the horizon, weird giant shapes in the early morning mist. It was + still very quiet in the village. A cock crowed here and there, and + swallows flew chirping close to the ground, darting swiftly about + preparing for their higher flight. Janci the shepherd, apparently the only + human being already up, stood beside the brook at the point where the old + bridge spans the streamlet, still turbulent from the mountain floods. + Janci was cutting willows to make his Margit a new basket. + </p> + <p> + Once the shepherd raised his head from his work, for he thought he heard a + loud laugh somewhere in the near distance. But all seemed silent and he + turned back to his willows. The beauty of the landscape about him was much + too familiar a thing that he should have felt or seen its charm. The + violet hue of the distant woods, the red gleaming of the heather-strewn + moor, with its patches of swamp from which the slow mist arose, the pretty + little village with its handsome old church and attractive rectory—Janci + had known it so long that he never stopped to realise how very charming, + in its gentle melancholy, it all was. + </p> + <p> + Also, Janci did not know that this little village of his home had once + been a flourishing city, and that an invasion of the Turks had razed it to + the ground leaving, as by a miracle, only the church to tell of former + glories. + </p> + <p> + The sun rose higher and higher. And now the village awoke to its daily + life. Voices of cattle and noises of poultry were heard about the houses, + and men and women began their accustomed round of tasks. Janci found that + he had gathered enough willow twigs by this time. He tied them in a loose + bundle and started on his homeward way. + </p> + <p> + His path led through wide-stretching fields and vineyards past a little + hill, some distance from the village, on which stood a large house. It was + not a pleasant house to look at, not a house one would care to live in, + even if one did not know its use, for it looked bare and repellant, + covered with its ugly yellow paint, and with all the windows secured with + heavy iron bars. The trees that surrounded it were tall and + thick-foliaged, casting an added gloom over the forbidding appearance of + the house. At the foot of the hill was a high iron fence, cutting off what + lay behind it from all the rest of the world. For this ugly yellow house + enclosed in its walls a goodly sum of hopeless human misery and + misfortune. It was an insane asylum. + </p> + <p> + For twenty years now, the asylum had stood on its hill, a source of + superstitious terror to the villagers, but at the same time a source of + added income. It meant money for them, for it afforded a constant and + ever-open market for their farm products and the output of their home + industry. But every now and then a scream or a harsh laugh would ring out + from behind those barred windows, and those in the village who could hear, + would shiver and cross themselves. Shepherd Janci had little fear of the + big house. His little hut cowered close by the high iron gates, and he had + a personal acquaintance with most of the patients, with all of the + attendants, and most of all, with the kind elderly physician who was the + head of the establishment. Janci knew them all, and had a kind word + equally for all. But otherwise he was a silent man, living much within + himself. + </p> + <p> + When the shepherd reached his little home, his wife came to meet him with + a call to breakfast. As they sat down at the table a shadow moved past the + little window. Janci looked up. “Who was that?” asked Margit, looking up + from her folded hands. She had just finished her murmured prayer. + </p> + <p> + “Pastor’s Liska,” replied Janci indifferently, beginning his meal. (Liska + was the local abbreviation for Elizabeth.) + </p> + <p> + “In such a hurry?” thought the shepherd’s wife. Her curiosity would not + let her rest. “I hope His Reverence isn’t ill again,” she remarked after a + while. Janci did not hear her, for he was very busy picking a fly out of + his milk cup. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think Liska was going for the old man?” began Margit again after a + few minutes. + </p> + <p> + The “old man” was the name given by the people of the village, more as a + term of endearment than anything else, to the generally loved and + respected physician who was the head of the insane asylum. He had become + general mentor and oracle of all the village and was known and loved by + man, woman and child. + </p> + <p> + “It’s possible,” answered Janci. + </p> + <p> + “His Reverence didn’t look very well yesterday, or maybe the old + housekeeper has the gout again.” + </p> + <p> + Janci gave a grunt which might have meant anything. The shepherd was a + silent man. Being alone so much had taught him to find his own thoughts + sufficient company. Ten minutes passed in silence since Margit’s last + question, then some one went past the window. There were two people this + time, Liska and the old doctor. They were walking very fast, running + almost. Margit sprang up and hurried to the door to look after them. + </p> + <p> + Janci sat still in his place, but he had laid aside his spoon and with + wide eyes was staring ahead of him, murmuring, “It’s the pastor this time; + I saw him—just as I did the others.” + </p> + <p> + “Shepherd, the inn-keeper wants to see you, there’s something the matter + with his cow.” Count —— a young man, came from the other + direction and pushed in at the door past Margit, who stood there staring + up the road. + </p> + <p> + Janci was so deep in his own thoughts that he apparently did not hear the + boy’s words. At all events he did not answer them, but himself asked an + unexpected question—a question that was not addressed to the others + in the room, but to something out and beyond them. It was a strange + question and it came from the lips of a man whose mind was not with his + body at that moment—whose mind saw what others did not see. + </p> + <p> + “Who will be the next to go? And who will be our pastor now?” + </p> + <p> + These were Janci’s words. + </p> + <p> + “What are you talking about, shepherd? Is it another one of your visions?” + exclaimed the young fellow who stood there before him. Janci rubbed his + hands over his eyes and seemed to come down to earth with a start. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, is that you, Ferenz? What do you want of me?” + </p> + <p> + The boy gave his message again, and Janci nodded good-humouredly and + followed him out of the house. But both he and his young companion were + very thoughtful as they plodded along the way. The boy did not dare to ask + any questions, for he knew that the shepherd was not likely to answer. + There was a silent understanding among the villagers that no one should + annoy Janci in any way, for they stood in a strange awe of him, although + he was the most good-natured mortal under the sun. + </p> + <p> + While the shepherd and the boy walked toward the inn, the old doctor and + Liska had hurried onward to the rectory. They were met at the door by the + aged housekeeper, who staggered down the path wringing her hands, unable + to give voice to anything but inarticulate expressions of grief and + terror. The rest of the household and the farm hands were gathered in a + frightened group in the great courtyard of the stately rectory which had + once been a convent building. The physician hurried up the stairs into the + pastor’s apartments. These were high sunny and airy rooms with arched + ceilings, deep window seats, great heavy doors and handsomely ornamented + stoves. The simple modern furniture appeared still more plain and + common-place by contrast with the huge spaces of the building. + </p> + <p> + In one of the rooms a gendarme was standing beside the window. The man + saluted the physician, then shrugged his shoulders with an expression of + hopelessness. The doctor returned a silent greeting and passed through + into the next apartment. The old man was paler than usual and his face + bore an expression of pain and surprise, the same expression that showed + in the faces of those gathered downstairs. The room he now entered was + large like the others, the walls handsomely decorated, and every corner of + it was flooded with sunshine. There were two men in this room, the village + magistrate and the notary. Their expression, as they held out their hands + to the doctor, showed that his coming brought great relief. And there was + something else in the room, something that drew the eyes of all three of + the men immediately after their silent greeting. + </p> + <p> + This was a great pool of blood which lay as a hideous stain on the + otherwise clean yellow-painted floor. The blood must have flowed from a + dreadful wound, from a severed artery even, the doctor thought, there was + such a quantity of it. It had already dried and darkened, making its + terrifying ugliness the more apparent. + </p> + <p> + “This is the third murder in two years,” said the magistrate in a low + voice. + </p> + <p> + “And the most mysterious of all of them,” added the clerk. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is,” said the doctor. “And there is not a trace of the body, you + say?—or a clue as to where they might have taken the dead—or + dying man?” + </p> + <p> + With these words he looked carefully around the room, but there was no + more blood to be seen anywhere. Any spot would have been clearly visible + on the light-coloured floor. There was nothing else to tell of the + horrible crime that had been committed here, nothing but the great, + hideous, brown-red spot in the middle of the room. + </p> + <p> + “Have you made a thorough search for the body?” asked the doctor. + </p> + <p> + The magistrate shook his head. “No, I have done nothing to speak of yet. + We have been waiting for you. There is a gendarme at the gate; no one can + go in or out without being seen.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then, let us begin our search now.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate and his companion turned towards the door of the room but + the doctor motioned them to come back. “I see you do not know the house as + well as I do,” he said, and led the way towards a niche in the side of the + wall, which was partially filled by a high bookcase. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—that is the entrance of the passage to the church?” asked the + magistrate in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, this is it. The door is not locked.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean you believe—” + </p> + <p> + “That the murderers came in from the church? Why not? It is quite + possible.” + </p> + <p> + “To think of such a thing!” exclaimed the notary with a shake of his head. + </p> + <p> + The doctor laughed bitterly. “To those who are planning a murder, a church + is no more than any other place. There is a bolt here as you see. I will + close this bolt now. Then we can leave the room knowing that no one can + enter it without being seen.” + </p> + <p> + The simple furniture of the study, a desk, a sofa, a couple of chairs and + several bookcases, gave no chance of any hiding place either for the body + of the victim or for the murderers. When the men left the room the + magistrate locked the door and put the key in his own pocket. The gendarme + in the neighbouring apartment was sent down to stand in the courtyard at + the entrance to the house. The sexton, a little hunchback, was ordered to + remain in the vestry at the other end of the passage from the church to + the house. + </p> + <p> + Then the thorough search of the house began. Every room in both stories, + every corner of the attic and the cellar, was looked over thoroughly. The + stable, the barns, the garden and even the well underwent a close + examination. There was no trace of a body anywhere, not even a trail of + blood, nothing which would give the slightest clue as to how the murderers + had entered, how they had fled, or what they had done with their victim. + </p> + <p> + The great gate of the courtyard was closed. The men, reinforced by the + farm hands, entered the church, while Liska and the dairy-maids huddled in + the servants’ dining-room in a trembling group around the old housekeeper. + The search in the church as well as in the vestry was equally in vain. + There was no trace to be found there any more than in the house. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, during these hours of anxious seeking, the rumour of another + terrible crime had spread through the village, and a crowd that grew from + minute to minute gathered in front of the closed gates to the rectory, in + front of the church, the closed doors of which did not open although it + was a high feast day. The utter silence from the steeple, where the bells + hung mute, added to the spreading terror. Finally the doctor came out from + the rectory, accompanied by the magistrate, and announced to the waiting + villagers that their venerable pastor had disappeared under circumstances + which left no doubt that he had met his death at the hand of a murderer. + The peasants listened in shuddering silence, the men pale-faced, the women + sobbing aloud with frightened children hanging to their skirts. Then at + the magistrate’s order, the crowd dispersed slowly, going to their homes, + while a messenger set off to the near-by county seat. + </p> + <p> + It was a weird, sad Easter Monday. Even nature seemed to feel the pressure + of the brooding horror, for heavy clouds piled up towards noon and a chill + wind blew fitfully from the north, bending the young corn and the creaking + tree-tops, and moaning about the straw-covered roofs. Then an icy cold + rain descended on the village, sending the children, the only humans still + unconscious of the fear that had come on them all, into the houses to play + quietly in the corner by the hearth. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing else spoken of wherever two or three met together + throughout the village except this dreadful, unexplainable thing that had + happened in the rectory. The little village inn was full to overflowing + and the hum of voices within was like the noise of an excited beehive. + Everyone had some new explanation, some new guess, and it was not until + the notary arrived, looking even more important than usual, that silence + fell upon the excited throng. But the expectations aroused by his coming + were not fulfilled. The notary knew no more than the others although he + had been one of the searchers in the rectory. But he was in no haste to + disclose his ignorance, and sat wrapped in a dignified silence until some + one found courage to question him. + </p> + <p> + “Was there nothing stolen?” he was asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, nothing as far as we can tell yet. But if it was the gypsies—as + may be likely—they are content with so little that it would not be + noticed.” + </p> + <p> + “Gypsies?” exclaimed one man scornfully. “It doesn’t have to be gypsies, + we’ve got enough tramps and vagabonds of our own. Didn’t they kill the + pedlar for the sake of a bag of tobacco, and old Katiza for a couple of + hens?” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you rake up things that happened twenty years ago?” cried another + over the table. “You’d better tell us rather who killed Red Betty, and + pulled Janos, the smith’s farm hand, down into the swamp?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, or who cut the bridge supports, when the brook was in flood, so that + two good cows broke through and drowned?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed, if we only knew what band of robbers and villains it is that + is ravaging our village.” + </p> + <p> + “And they haven’t stopped yet, evidently.” + </p> + <p> + “This is the worst misfortune of all! What will our poor do now that they + have murdered our good pastor, who cared for us all like a father?” + </p> + <p> + “He gave all he had to the poor, he kept nothing for himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed, that’s how it was. And now we can’t even give this good man + Christian burial.” + </p> + <p> + “Shepherd Janci knew this morning early that we were going to have a new + pastor,” whispered the landlord in the notary’s ear. The latter looked up + astonished. “Who said so?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “My boy Ferenz, who went to fetch him about seven o’clock. One of my cows + was sick.” + </p> + <p> + Ferenz was sent for and told his story. The men listened with great + interest, and the smith, a broad-shouldered elderly man, was particularly + eager to hear, as he had always believed in the shepherd’s power of second + sight. The tailor, who was more modern-minded, laughed and made his jokes + at this. But the smith laid one mighty hand on the other’s shoulder, + almost crushing the tailor’s slight form under its weight, and said + gravely: “Friend, do you be silent in this matter. You’ve come from other + parts and you do not know of things that have happened here in days gone + by. Janci can do more than take care of his sheep. One day, when my little + girl was playing in the street, he said to me, ‘Have a care of Maruschka, + smith!’ and three days later the child was dead. The evening before Red + Betty was murdered he saw her in a vision lying in a coffin in front of + her door. He told it to the sexton, whom he met in the fields; and next + morning they found Betty dead. And there are many more things that I could + tell you, but what’s the use; when a man won’t believe it’s only lost talk + to try to make him. But one thing you should know: when Janci stares ahead + of him without seeing what’s in front of him, then the whole village + begins to wonder what’s going to happen, for Janci knows far more than all + the rest of us put together.” + </p> + <p> + The smith’s grave, deep voice filled the room and the others listened in a + silence that gave assent to his words. He had scarcely finished speaking, + however, when there was a noise of galloping hoofs and rapidly rolling + wagon wheels. A tall brake drawn by four handsome horses dashed past in a + whirlwind. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the Count—the Count and the district judge,” said the landlord + in a tone of respect. The notary made a grab at his hat and umbrella and + hurried from the room. “That shows how much they thought of our pastor,” + continued the landlord proudly. “For the Count himself has come and with + four horses, too, to get here the more quickly. His Reverence was a great + friend of the Countess.” + </p> + <p> + “They didn’t make so much fuss over the pedlar and Betty,” murmured the + cobbler, who suffered from a perpetual grouch. But he followed the others, + who paid their scores hastily and went out into the streets that they + might watch from a distance at least what was going on in the rectory. The + landlord bustled about the inn to have everything in readiness in case the + gentlemen should honour him by taking a meal, and perhaps even lodgings, + at his house. At the gate of the rectory the coachman and the maid Liska + stood to receive the newcomers, just as five o’clock was striking from the + steeple. + </p> + <p> + It should have been still quite light, but it was already dusk, for the + clouds hung heavy. The rain had ceased, but a heavy wind came up which + tore the delicate petals of the blossoms from the fruit trees and strewed + them like snow on the ground beneath. The Count, who was the head of one + of the richest and most aristocratic families in Hungary, threw off his + heavy fur coat and hastened up the stairs at the top of which his old + friend and confidant, the venerable pastor, usually came to meet him. + To-day it was only the local magistrate who stood there, bowing deeply. + </p> + <p> + “This is incredible, incredible!” exclaimed the Count. + </p> + <p> + “It is, indeed, sir,” said the man, leading the magnate through the + dining-room into the pastor’s study, where, as far as could be seen, the + murder had been committed. They were joined by the district judge, who had + remained behind to give an order sending a carriage to the nearest railway + station. The judge, too, was serious and deeply shocked, for he also had + greatly admired and revered the old pastor. The stately rectory had been + the scene of many a jovial gathering when the lord of the manor had made + it a centre for a day’s hunting with his friends. The bearers of some of + the proudest names in all Hungary had gathered in the high-arched rooms to + laugh with the venerable pastor and to sample the excellent wines in his + cellar. These wines, which the gentlemen themselves would send in as + presents to the master of the rectory, would be carefully preserved for + their own enjoyment. Not a landed proprietor for many leagues around but + knew and loved the old pastor, who had now so strangely disappeared under + such terrifying circumstances. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we might as well begin our examination,” remarked the Count. + “Although if Dr. Orszay’s sharp eyes did not find anything, I doubt very + much if we will. You have asked the doctor to come here again, haven’t + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your Grace! As soon as I saw you coming I sent the sexton to the + asylum.” Then the men went in again into the room which had been the scene + of the mysterious crime. The wind rattled the open window and blew out its + white curtains. It was already dark in the corners of the room, one could + see but indistinctly the carvings of the wainscoting. The light backs of + the books, or the gold letters on the darker bindings, made spots of + brightness in the gloom. The hideous pool of blood in the centre of the + floor was still plainly to be seen. + </p> + <p> + “Judging by the loss of blood, death must have come quickly.” + </p> + <p> + “There was no struggle, evidently, for everything in the room was in + perfect order when we entered it.” + </p> + <p> + “There is not even a chair misplaced. His Bible is there on the desk, he + may have been preparing for to-day’s sermon.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is the case; because see, here are some notes in his + handwriting.” + </p> + <p> + The Count and Judge von Kormendy spoke these sentences at intervals as + they made their examination of the room. The local magistrate was able to + answer one or two simpler questions, but for the most part he could only + shrug his shoulders in helplessness. Nothing had been seen or heard that + was at all unusual during the night in the rectory. When the old + housekeeper was called up she could say nothing more than this. Indeed, it + was almost impossible for the old woman to say anything, her voice choked + with sobs at every second word. None of the household force had noticed + anything unusual, or could remember anything at all that would throw light + on this mystery. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, sir, we might just as well sit down and wait for the + detective’s arrival,” said the judge. + </p> + <p> + “You are waiting for some one besides the doctor?” asked the local + magistrate timidly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, His Grace telegraphed to Budapest,” answered the district judge, + looking at his watch. “And if the train is on time, the man we are waiting + for ought to be here in an hour. You sent the carriage to the station, + didn’t you? Is the driver reliable?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, he is a dependable man,” said the old housekeeper. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Orszay entered the room just then and the Count introduced him to the + district judge, who was still a stranger to him. + </p> + <p> + “I fear, Count, that our eyes will serve but little in discovering the + truth of this mystery,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + The nobleman nodded. “I agree with you,” he replied. “And I have sent for + sharper eyes than either yours or mine.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor looked his question, and the Count continued: “When the news + came to me I telegraphed to Pest for a police detective, telling them that + the case was peculiar and urgent. I received an answer as I stopped at the + station on my way here. This is it: ‘Detective Joseph Muller from Vienna + in Budapest by chance. Have sent him to take your case.’” + </p> + <p> + “Muller?” exclaimed Dr. Orszay. “Can it be the celebrated Muller, the most + famous detective of the Austrian police? That would indeed be a blessing.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope and believe that it is,” said the Count gravely. “I have heard of + this man and we need such a one here that we may find the source of these + many misfortunes which have overwhelmed our peaceful village for two years + past. It is indeed a stroke of good luck that has led a man of such gifts + into our neighbourhood at a time when he is so greatly needed. I believe + personally that it is the same person or persons who have been the + perpetrators of all these outrages and I intend once for all to put a stop + to it, let it cost what it may.” + </p> + <p> + “If any one can discover the truth it will be Muller,” said the district + judge. “It was I who told the Count how fortunate we were that this man, + who is known to the police throughout Austria and far beyond the borders + of our kingdom, should have chanced to be in Budapest and free to come to + us when we called. You and I”—he turned with a smile to the local + magistrate—“you and I can get away with the usual cases of local + brutality hereabouts. But the cunning that is at the bottom of these + crimes is one too many for us.” + </p> + <p> + The men had taken their places around the great dining-table. The old + housekeeper had crept out again, her terror making her forget her usual + hospitality. And indeed it would not have occurred to the guests to ask or + even to wish for any refreshment. The maid brought a lamp, which sent its + weak rays scarcely beyond the edges of the big table. The four men sat in + silence for some time. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it would be useless to ask who has been coming and going from + the rectory the last few days?” began the Count. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, indeed, sir,” said the district judge with a sigh. “For if this + murderer is the same who committed the other crimes he must live here in + or near the village, and therefore must be known to all and not likely to + excite suspicion.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, sir,” put in the doctor. “There must be at least two + of them. One man alone could not have carried off the farm hand who was + killed to the swamp where his body was found. Nor could one man alone have + taken away the bloody body of the pastor. Our venerable friend was a man + of size and weight, as you know, and one man alone could not have dragged + his body from the room without leaving an easily seen trail.” + </p> + <p> + The judge blushed, but he nodded in affirmation to the doctor’s words. + This thought had not occurred to him before. In fact, the judge was more + notable for his good will and his love of justice rather than for his keen + intelligence. He was as well aware of this as was any one else, and he was + heartily glad that the Count had sent to the capital for reinforcements. + </p> + <p> + Some time more passed in deep silence. Each of the men was occupied with + his own thoughts. A sigh broke the silence now and then, and a slight + movement when one or the other drew out his watch or raised his head to + look at the door. Finally, the sound of a carriage outside was heard. The + men sprang up. + </p> + <p> + The driver’s voice was heard, then steps which ascended the stairs lowly + and lightly, audible only because the stillness was so great. + </p> + <p> + The door opened and a small, slight, smooth-shaven man with a gentle face + and keen grey eyes stood on the threshold. “I am Joseph Muller,” he said + with a low, soft voice. + </p> + <p> + The four men in the room looked at him in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “This simple-looking individual is the man that every one is afraid of?” + thought the Count, as he walked forward and held out his hand to the + stranger. + </p> + <p> + “I sent for you, Mr. Muller,” said the magnate, conscious of his stately + size and appearance, as well as of his importance in the presence of a + personage who so little looked what his great fame might have led one to + expect. + </p> + <p> + “Then you are Count ——?” answered Muller gently. “I was in + Budapest, having just finished a difficult case which took me there. They + told me that a mysterious crime had happened in your neighbourhood, and + sent me here to take charge of it. You will pardon any ignorance I may + show as a stranger to this locality. I will do my best and it may be + possible that I can help you.” + </p> + <p> + The Count introduced the other gentlemen in order and they sat down again + at the table. + </p> + <p> + “And now what is it you want me for, Count?” asked Muller. + </p> + <p> + “There was a murder committed in this house,” answered the Count. + </p> + <p> + “When?” + </p> + <p> + “Last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is the victim?” + </p> + <p> + “Our pastor.” + </p> + <p> + “How was he killed?” + </p> + <p> + “We do not know.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not a physician, then?” asked Muller, turning to Orszay. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am,” answered the latter. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “The body is missing,” said Orszay, somewhat sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Missing?” Muller became greatly interested. “Will you please lead me to + the scene of the crime?” he said, rising from his chair. + </p> + <p> + The others led him into the next room, the magistrate going ahead with a + lamp. The judge called for more lights and the group stood around the pool + of blood on the floor of the study. Muller’s arms were crossed on his + breast as he stood looking down at the hideous spot. There was no terror + in his eyes, as in those of the others, but only a keen attention and a + lively interest. + </p> + <p> + “Who has been in this room since the discovery?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + The doctor replied that only the servants of the immediate household, the + notary, the magistrate, and himself, then later the Count and the district + judge entered the room. + </p> + <p> + “You are quite certain that no one else has been in here?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no one else.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you kindly send for the three servants?” The magistrate left the + room. + </p> + <p> + “Who else lives in the house?” + </p> + <p> + “The sexton and the dairymaid.” + </p> + <p> + “And no one else has left the house to-day or has entered it?” + </p> + <p> + “No one. The main door has been watched all day by a gendarme.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there but one door out of this room?” + </p> + <p> + “No, there is a small door beside that bookcase.” + </p> + <p> + “Where does it lead to?” + </p> + <p> + “It leads to a passageway at the end of which there is a stair down into + the vestry.” + </p> + <p> + Muller gave an exclamation of surprise. + </p> + <p> + “The vestry as well as the church have neither of them been opened on the + side toward the street.” + </p> + <p> + “The church or the vestry, you mean,” corrected Muller. “How many doors + have they on the street side?” + </p> + <p> + “One each.” + </p> + <p> + “The locks on these doors were in good condition?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they were untouched.” + </p> + <p> + “Was there anything stolen from the church?” + </p> + <p> + “No, nothing that we could see.” + </p> + <p> + “Was the pastor rich?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he was almost a poor man, for he gave away all that he had.” + </p> + <p> + “But you were his patron, Count.” + </p> + <p> + “I was his friend. He was the confidential adviser of myself and family.” + </p> + <p> + “This would mean rich presents now and then, would it not?” + </p> + <p> + “No, that is not the case. Our venerable pastor would take nothing for + himself. He would accept no presents but gifts of money for his poor.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you do not believe this to have been a murder for the sake of + robbery?” + </p> + <p> + “No. There was nothing disturbed in any part of the house, no drawers or + cupboards broken open at all.” + </p> + <p> + Muller smiled. “I have heard it said that your romantic Hungarian bandits + will often be satisfied with the small booty they may find in the pocket + or on the person of their victim.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, Mr. Muller. But that is only when they can find nothing + else.” + </p> + <p> + “Or perhaps if it is a case of revenge. + </p> + <p> + “It cannot be revenge in this case!” + </p> + <p> + “The pastor was greatly loved?” + </p> + <p> + “He was loved and revered.” + </p> + <p> + “By every one?” + </p> + <p> + “By every one!” the four men answered at once. + </p> + <p> + Muller was still a while. His eyes were veiled and his face thoughtful. + Finally he raised his head. “There has been nothing moved or changed in + this room?” + </p> + <p> + “No—neither here nor anywhere else in the house or the church,” + answered the local magistrate. + </p> + <p> + “That is good. Now I would like to question the servants.” + </p> + <p> + Muller had already started for the door, then he turned back into the room + and pointing toward the second door he asked: “Is that door locked?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered the Count. “I found it locked when I examined it myself a + short time ago.” + </p> + <p> + “It was locked on the inside?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, locked on the inside.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Then we have nothing more to do here for the time being. Let + us go back into the dining-room.” + </p> + <p> + The men returned to the dining-room, Muller last, for he stopped to lock + the door of the study and put the key in his pocket. Then he began his + examination of the servants. + </p> + <p> + The old housekeeper, who, as usual, was the first to rise in the + household, had also, as usual, rung the bell to waken the other servants. + Then when Liska came downstairs she had sent her up to the pastor’s room. + His bedroom was to the right of the dining-room. Liska had, as usual, + knocked on the door exactly at seven o’clock and continued knocking for + some few minutes without receiving any answer. Slightly alarmed, the girl + had gone back and told the housekeeper that the pastor did not answer. + </p> + <p> + Then the old woman asked the coachman to go up and see if anything was the + matter with the reverend gentleman. The man returned in a few moments, + pale and trembling in every limb and apparently struck dumb by fright. He + motioned the women to follow him, and all three crept up the stairs. The + coachman led them first to the pastor’s bed, which was untouched, and then + to the pool of blood in his study. The sight of the latter frightened the + servants so much that they did not notice at first that there was no sign + of the pastor himself, whom they now knew must have been murdered. When + they finally came to themselves sufficiently to take some action, the man + hurried off to call the magistrate, and Liska ran to the asylum to fetch + the old doctor; the pastor’s intimate friend. The aged housekeeper, + trembling in fear, crept back to her own room and sat there waiting the + return of the others. + </p> + <p> + This was the story of the early morning as told by the three servants, who + had already given their report in much the same words to the Count on his + arrival and also to the magistrate. There was no reason to doubt the words + of either the old housekeeper or of Janos, the coachman, who had served + for more than twenty years in the rectory and whose fidelity was known. + The girl Liska was scarcely eighteen, and her round childish face and big + eyes dimmed with tears, corroborated her story. When they had told Muller + all they knew, the detective sat stroking his chin, and looking + thoughtfully at the floor. Then he raised his head and said, in a tone of + calm friendliness: “Well, good friends, this will do for to-night. Now, if + you will kindly give me a bite to eat and a glass of some light wine, I’d + be very thankful. I have had no food since early this morning.” + </p> + <p> + The housekeeper and the maid disappeared, and Janos went to the stable to + harness the Count’s trap. + </p> + <p> + The magnate turned to the detective. “I thank you once more that you have + come to us. I appreciate it greatly that a stranger to our part of the + country, like yourself, should give his time and strength to this problem + of our obscure little village.” + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing else calling me, sir,” answered Muller. “And the + Budapest police will explain to headquarters at Vienna if I do not return + at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you understand our tongue sufficiently to deal with these people + here?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; there will be no difficulty about that. I have hunted criminals + in Hungary before. And a case of this kind does not usually call for + disguises in which any accent would betray one.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a strange profession,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “One gets used to it—like everything else,” answered Muller, with a + gentle smile. “And now I have to thank you gentlemen for your confidence + in me.” + </p> + <p> + “Which I know you will justify,” said the Count. + </p> + <p> + Muller shrugged his shoulders: “I haven’t felt anything yet—but it + will come—there’s something in the air.” + </p> + <p> + The Count smiled at his manner of expressing himself, but all four of the + men had already begun to feel sympathy and respect for this quiet-mannered + little person whose words were so few and whose voice was so gentle. + Something in his grey eyes and in the quiet determination of his manner + made them realise that he had won his fame honestly. With the enthusiasm + of his race the Hungarian Count pressed the detective’s hand in a warm + grasp as he said: “I know that we can trust in you. You will avenge the + death of my old friend and of those others who were killed here. The + doctor and the magistrate will tell you about them to-morrow. We two will + go home now. Telegraph us as soon as anything has happened. Every one in + the village will be ready to help you and of course you can call on me for + funds. Here is something to begin on.” With these words the Count laid a + silk purse full of gold pieces on the table. One more pressure of the hand + and he was gone. The other men also left the room, following the Count’s + lead in a cordial farewell of the detective. They also shared the + nobleman’s feeling that now indeed, with this man to help them, could the + cloud of horror that had hung over the village for two years, and had + culminated in the present catastrophe, be lifted. + </p> + <p> + The excitement of the Count’s departure had died away and the steps of the + other men on their way to the village had faded in the distance. There was + nothing now to be heard but the rustling of the leaves and the creaking of + the boughs as the trees bent before the onrush of the wind. Muller stood + alone, with folded arms, in the middle of the large room, letting his + sharp eyes wander about the circle of light thrown by the lamps. He was + glad to be alone—for only when he was alone could his brain do its + best work. He took up one of the lamps and opened the door to the room in + which, as far as could be known, the murder had been committed. He walked + in carefully and, setting the lamp on the desk, examined the articles + lying about on it. There was nothing of importance to be found there. An + open Bible and a sheet of paper with notes for the day’s sermon lay on top + of the desk. In the drawers, none of which were locked, were official + papers, books, manuscripts of former sermons, and a few unimportant + personal notes. + </p> + <p> + The flame of the lamp flickered in the breeze that came from the open + window. But Muller did not close the casement. He wanted to leave + everything just as he had found it until daylight. When he saw that it was + impossible to leave the lamp there he took it up again and left the room. + </p> + <p> + “What is the use of being impatient?” he said to himself. “If I move about + in this poor light I will be sure to ruin some possible clue. For there + must be some clue left here. It is impossible for even the most practiced + criminal not to leave some trace of his presence.” + </p> + <p> + The detective returned to the dining-room, locking the study door + carefully behind him. The maid and the coachman returned, bringing in an + abundant supper, and Muller sat down to do justice to the many good things + on the tray. When the maid returned to take away the dishes she inquired + whether she should put the guest chamber in order for the detective. He + told her not to go to any trouble for his sake, that he would sleep in the + bed in the neighbouring room. + </p> + <p> + “You going to sleep in there?” said the girl, horrified. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my child, and I think I will sleep well to-night. I feel very + tired.” Liska carried the things out, shaking her head in surprise at this + thin little man who did not seem to know what it was to be afraid. Half an + hour later the rectory was in darkness. Before he retired, Muller had made + a careful examination of the pastor’s bedroom. Nothing was disturbed + anywhere, and it was evident that the priest had not made any preparations + for the night, but was still at work at his desk in the study when death + overtook him. When he came to this conclusion, the detective went to bed + and soon fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + In his little hut near the asylum gates, shepherd Janci slept as sound as + usual. But he was dreaming and he spoke in his sleep. There was no one to + hear him, for his faithful Margit was snoring loudly. Snatches of + sentences and broken words came from Janci’s lips: “The hand—the big + hand—I see it—at his throat—the face—the yellow + face—it laughs—” + </p> + <p> + Next morning the children on their way to school crept past the rectory + with wide eyes and open mouths. And the grown people spoke in lower tones + when their work led them past the handsome old house. It had once been + their pride, but now it was a place of horror to them. The old housekeeper + had succumbed to her fright and was very ill. Liska went about her work + silently, and the farm servants walked more heavily and chattered less + than they had before. The hump-backed sexton, who had not been allowed to + enter the church and therefore had nothing to do, made an early start for + the inn, where he spent most of the day telling what little he knew to the + many who made an excuse to follow him there. + </p> + <p> + The only calm and undisturbed person in the rectory household was Muller. + He had made a thorough examination of the entire scene of the murder, but + had not found anything at all. Of one thing alone was he certain: the + murderer had come through the hidden passageway from the church. There + were two reasons to believe this, one of which might possibly not be + sufficient, but the other was conclusive. + </p> + <p> + The heavy armchair before the desk, the chair on which the pastor was + presumably sitting when the murderer entered, was half turned around, + turned in just such a way as it would have been had the man who was + sitting there suddenly sprung up in excitement or surprise. The chair was + pushed back a step from the desk and turned towards the entrance to the + passageway. Those who had been in the room during the day had reported + that they had not touched any one of the articles of furniture, therefore + the position of the chair was the same that had been given it by the man + who had sat in it, by the murdered pastor himself. + </p> + <p> + Of course there was always the possibility that some one had moved the + chair without realising it. This clue, therefore, could not be looked upon + as an absolutely certain one had it stood alone. But there was other + evidence far more important. The great pool of blood was just half-way + between the door of the passage and the armchair. It was here, therefore, + that the attack had taken place. The pastor could not have turned in this + direction in the hope of flight, for there was nothing here to give him + shelter, no weapon that he could grasp, not even a cane. He must have + turned in this direction to meet and greet the invader who had entered his + room in this unusual manner. Turned to meet him as a brave man would, with + no other weapon than the sacredness of his calling and his age. + </p> + <p> + But this had not been enough to protect the venerable priest. The murderer + must have made his thrust at once and his victim had sunk down dying on + the floor of the room in which he had spent so many hours of quiet study, + in which he had brought comfort and given advice to so many anxious + hearts; for dying he must have been—it would be impossible for a man + to lose so much blood and live. + </p> + <p> + “The struggle,” thought the detective, “but was there a struggle?” He + looked about the room again, but could see nothing that showed disorder + anywhere in its immaculate neatness. No, there could have been no + struggle. It must have been a quick knife thrust and death at once. “Not a + shot?” No, a shot would have been heard by the night watchman walking the + streets near the church. The night was quiet, the window open. Some one in + the village would have heard the noise of a shot. And it was not likely + that the old housekeeper who slept in the room immediately below, slept + the light sleep of the aged would have failed to have heard the firing of + a pistol. + </p> + <p> + Muller took a chair and sat down directly in front of the pool of blood, + looking at it carefully. Suddenly he bowed his head deeper. He had caught + sight of a fine thread of the red fluid which had been drawn out for about + a foot or two in the direction towards the door to the dining-room. What + did that mean? Did it mean that the murderer went out through that door, + dragging something after him that made this delicate line? Muller bent + down still deeper. The sun shone brightly on the floor, sending its clear + rays obliquely through the window. The sharp eyes which now covered every + inch of the yellow-painted floor discovered something else. They + discovered that this red thread curved slightly and had a continuation in + a fine scratch in the paint of the floor. Muller followed up this scratch + and it led him over towards the window and then back again in wide curves, + then out again under the desk and finally, growing weaker and weaker, it + came back to the neighbourhood of the pool of blood, but on the opposite + side of it. Muller got down on his hands and knees to follow up the + scratch. He did not notice the discomfort of his position, his eyes shone + in excitement and a deep flush glowed in his cheeks. Also, he began to + whistle softly. + </p> + <p> + Joseph Muller, the bloodhound of the Austrian police, had found a clue, a + clue that soon would bring him to the trail he was seeking. He did not + know yet what he could do with his clue. But this much he knew; sooner or + later this scratch in the floor would lead him to the murderer. The trail + might be long and devious; but he would follow it and at its end would be + success. He knew that this scratch had been made after the murder was + committed; this was proved by the blood that marked its beginning. And it + could not have been made by any of those who entered the room during the + day because by that time the blood had dried. This strange streak in the + floor, with its weird curves and spirals, could have been made only by the + murderer. But how? With what instrument? There was the riddle which must + be solved. + </p> + <p> + And now Muller, making another careful examination of the floor, found + something else. It was something that might be utterly unimportant or + might be of great value. It was a tiny bit of hardened lacquer which he + found on the floor beside one of the legs of the desk. It was rounded out, + with sharp edges, and coloured grey with a tiny zigzag of yellow on its + surface. Muller lifted it carefully and looked at it keenly. This tiny bit + of lacquer had evidently been knocked off from some convex object, but it + was impossible to tell at the moment just what sort of an object it might + have been. There are so many different things which are customarily + covered with lacquer. However, further examination brought him down to a + narrower range of subjects. For on the inside of the lacquer he found a + shred of reddish wood fibre. It must have been a wooden object, therefore, + from which the lacquer came, and the wood had been of reddish tinge. + </p> + <p> + Muller pondered the matter for a little while longer. Then he placed his + discovery carefully in the pastor’s emptied tobacco-box, and dropped the + box in his own pocket. He closed the window and the door to the + dining-room, lit a lamp, and entered the passageway leading to the vestry. + It was a short passageway, scarcely more than a dozen paces long. + </p> + <p> + The walls were whitewashed, the floor tiled and the entire passage shone + in neatness. Muller held the light of his lamp to every inch of it, but + there was nothing to show that the criminal had gone through here with the + body of his victim. + </p> + <p> + “The criminal”—Muller still thought of only one. His long experience + had taught him that the most intricate crimes were usually committed by + one man only. The strength necessary for such a crime as this did not + deceive him either. He knew that in extraordinary moments extraordinary + strength will come to the one who needs it. + </p> + <p> + He now passed down the steps leading into the vestry. There was no trace + of any kind here either. The door into the vestry was not locked. It was + seldom locked, they had told him, for the vestry itself was closed by a + huge carved portal with a heavy ornamented iron lock that could be opened + only with the greatest noise and trouble. This door was locked and closed + as it had been since yesterday morning. Everything in the vestry was in + perfect order; the priest’s garments and the censers all in their places. + Muller assured himself of this before he left the little room. He then + opened the glass door that led down by a few steps into the church. + </p> + <p> + It was a beautiful old church, and it was a rich church also. It was built + in the older Gothic style, and its heavy, broad-arched walls, its massive + columns would have made it look cold and bare had not handsome tapestries, + the gift of the lady of the manor, covered the walls. Fine old pictures + hung here and there above the altars, and handsome stained glass windows + broke the light that fell into the high vaulted interior. There were three + great altars in the church, all of them richly decorated. The main altar + stood isolated in the choir. In the open space behind it was the entrance + to the crypt, now veiled in a mysterious twilight. Heavy silver + candlesticks, three on a side, stood on the altar. The pale gold of the + tabernacle door gleamed between them. + </p> + <p> + Muller walked through the silent church, in which even his light steps + resounded uncannily. He looked into each of the pews, into the + confessionals, he walked around all the columns, he climbed up into the + pulpit, he did everything that the others had done before him yesterday. + And as with them, he found nothing that would indicate that the murderer + had spent any time in the church. Finally he turned back once more to the + main altar on his way out. But he did not leave the church as he intended. + His last look at the altar had showed him something that attracted his + attention and he walked up the three steps to examine it more closely. + </p> + <p> + What he had seen was something unusual about one of the silver + candlesticks. These candlesticks had three feet, and five of them were + placed in such a way that the two front feet were turned toward the + spectator. But on the end candlestick nearest Muller the single foot + projected out to the front of the altar. This candlestick therefore had + been set down hastily, not placed carefully in the order of things as were + the others. + </p> + <p> + And not only this. The heavy wax candle which was in the candlestick was + burned down about a finger’s breadth more than the others, for these were + all exactly of a height. Muller bent still nearer to the candlestick, but + he saw that the dim light in the church was not sufficient. He went to one + of the smaller side altars, took a candle from there, lit it with one of + the matches that he found in his own pocket and returned with the burning + candle to the main altar. The steps leading up to this altar were covered + by a large rug with a white ground and a pattern of flowers. Looking + carefully at it the detective saw a tiny brown spot, the mark of a burn, + upon one of the white surfaces. Beside it lay a half used match. + </p> + <p> + Walking around this carefully, Muller approached the candlestick that + interested him and holding up his light he examined every inch of its + surface. He found what he was looking for. There were dark red spots + between the rough edges of the silver ornamentation. + </p> + <p> + “Then the body is somewhere around here,” thought the detective and came + down from the steps, still holding the burning candle. + </p> + <p> + He walked slowly to the back of the altar. There was a little table there + such as held the sacred dishes for the communion service, and the little + carpet-covered steps which the sexton put out for the pastor when he took + the monstrance from the high-built tabernacle. That was all that was to be + seen in the dark corner behind the altar. Holding his candle close to the + floor Muller discovered an iron ring fastened to one of the big stone + flags. This must be the entrance to the crypt. + </p> + <p> + Muller tried to raise the flag and was astonished to find how easily it + came up. It was a square of reddish marble, the same with which the entire + floor of the church was tiled. This flag was very thin and could easily be + raised and placed back against the wall. Muller took up his candle, too + greatly excited to stop to get a stick for it. He felt assured that now he + would soon be able to solve at least a part of the mystery. He climbed + down the steps carefully and found that they led into the crypt as he + supposed. They were kept spotlessly clean, as was the entire crypt as far + as he could see it by the light of his flickering candle. He was not + surprised to discover that the air was perfectly pure here. There must be + windows or ventilators somewhere, this he knew from the way his candle + behaved. + </p> + <p> + The ancient vault had a high arched ceiling and heavy massive pillars. It + was a subterranean repetition of the church above. There had evidently + been a convent attached to this church at one time; for here stood a row + of simple wooden coffins all exactly alike, bearing each one upon its lid + a roughly painted cross surrounded by a wreath. Thus were buried the monks + of days long past. + </p> + <p> + Muller walked slowly through the rows of coffins looking eagerly to each + side. Suddenly he stopped and stood still. His hand did not tremble but + his thin face was pale—pale as that face which looked up at him out + of one of the coffins. The lid of the coffin stood up against the wall and + Muller saw that there were several other empty ones further on, waiting + for their silent occupants. + </p> + <p> + The body in the open coffin before which Muller stood was the body of the + man who had been missing since the day previous. He lay there quite + peacefully, his hands crossed over his breast, his eyes closed, a line of + pain about his lips. In the crossed fingers was a little bunch of dark + yellow roses. At the first glance one might almost have thought that + loving hands had laid the old pastor in his coffin. But the red stain on + the white cloth about his throat, and the bloody disorder of his + snow-white hair contrasted sadly with the look of peace on the dead face. + Under his head was a white silk cushion, one of the cushions from the + altar. + </p> + <p> + Muller stood looking down for some time at this poor victim of a strange + crime, then he turned to go. + </p> + <p> + He wanted to know one thing more: how the murderer had left the crypt. The + flame of his candle told him, for it nearly went out in a gust of wind + that came down the opening right above him. This was a window about three + or four feet from the floor, protected by rusty iron bars which had been + sawed through, leaving the opening free. It was a small window, but it was + large enough to allow a man of much greater size than Muller to pass + through it. The detective blew out his candle and climbed up onto the + window sill. He found himself outside, in a corner of the churchyard. A + thicket of heavy bushes grown up over neglected graves completely hid the + opening through which he had come. There were thorns on these bushes and + also a few scattered roses, dark yellow roses. + </p> + <p> + Muller walked thoughtfully through the churchyard. The sexton sat huddled + in an unhappy heap at the gate. He looked up in alarm as he saw the + detective walking towards him. Something in the stranger’s face told the + little hunchback that he had made a discovery. The sexton sprang up, his + lips did not dare utter the question that his eyes asked. + </p> + <p> + “I have found him,” said the detective gravely. + </p> + <p> + The hunchback sexton staggered, then recovered himself, and hurried away + to fetch the magistrate and the doctor. + </p> + <p> + An hour later the murdered pastor lay in state in the chief apartment of + his home, surrounded by burning candles and high-heaped masses of flowers. + But he still lay in the simple convent coffin and the little bunch of + roses which his murderer had placed between his stiffening fingers had not + been touched. + </p> + <p> + Two days later the pastor was buried. The Count and his family led the + train of numerous mourners and among the last was Muller. + </p> + <p> + A day or two after the funeral the detective sauntered slowly through the + main street of the village. He was not in a very good humour, his answer + to the greeting of those who passed him was short. The children avoided + him, for with the keenness of their kind they recognised the fact that + this usually gentle little man was not in possession of his habitual calm + temper. One group of boys, playing with a top, did not notice his coming + and Muller stopped behind them to look on. Suddenly a sharp whistle was + heard and the boys looked up from their play, surprised at seeing the + stranger behind them. His eyes were gleaming, and his cheeks were flushed, + and a few bars of a merry tune came in a keen whistle from his lips as he + watched the spirals made by the spinning top. + </p> + <p> + Before the boys could stop their play the detective had left the group and + hastened onward to the little shop. He left it again in eager haste after + having made his purchase, and hurried back to the rectory. The shop-keeper + stood in the doorway looking in surprise at this grown man who came to buy + a top. And at home in the rectory the old housekeeper listened in equal + surprise to the humming noise over her head. She thought at first it might + be a bee that had got in somehow. Then she realised that it was not quite + the same noise, and having already concluded that it was of no use to be + surprised at anything this strange guest might do, she continued reading + her scriptures. + </p> + <p> + Upstairs in the pastor’s study, Muller sat in the armchair attentively + watching the gyrations of a spinning top. The little toy, started at a + certain point, drew a line exactly parallel to the scratch on the floor + that had excited his thoughts and absorbed them day and night. + </p> + <p> + “It was a top—a top” repeated the detective to himself again and + again. “I don’t see why I didn’t think of that right away. Why, of course, + nothing else could have drawn such a perfect curve around the room, + unhindered by the legs of the desk. Only I don’t see how a toy like that + could have any connection with this cruel and purposeless murder. Why, + only a fool—or a madman—” + </p> + <p> + Muller sprang up from his chair and again a sharp shrill whistle came from + his lips. “A madman!—” he repeated, beating his own forehead. “It + could only have been a madman who committed this murder! And the pastor + was not the first, there were two other murders here within a + comparatively short time. I think I will take advantage of Dr. Orszay’s + invitation.” + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later Muller and the doctor sat together in a summer-house, + from the windows of which one could see the park surrounding the asylum to + almost its entire extent. The park was arranged with due regard to its + purpose. The eye could sweep through it unhindered. There were no bushes + except immediately along the high wall. Otherwise there were beautiful + lawns, flower beds and groups of fine old trees with tall trunks. + </p> + <p> + As would be natural in visiting such a place Muller had induced the doctor + to talk about his patients. Dr. Orszay was an excellent talker and + possessed the power of painting a personality for his listeners. He was + pleased and flattered by the evident interest with which the detective + listened to his remarks. + </p> + <p> + “Then your patients are all quite harmless?” asked Muller thoughtfully, + when the doctor came to a pause. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, all quite harmless. Of course, there is the man who strangely enough + considers himself the reincarnation of the famous French murderer, the + goldsmith Cardillac, who, as you remember, kept all Paris in a fervour of + excitement by his crimes during the reign of Louis XIV. But in spite of + his weird mania this man is the most good-natured of any. He has been shut + up in his room for several days now. He was a mechanician by trade, living + in Budapest, and an unsuccessful invention turned his mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he a large, powerful man?” asked Muller. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Orszay looked a bit surprised. “Why do you ask that? He does happen to + be a large man of considerable strength, but in spite of it I have no fear + of him. I have an attendant who is invaluable to me, a man of such + strength that even the fiercest of them cannot overcome him, and yet with + a mind and a personal magnetism which they cannot resist. He can always + master our patients mentally and physically—most of them are afraid + of him and they know that they must do as he says. There is something in + his very glance which has the power to paralyse even healthy nerves, for + it shows the strength of will possessed by this man.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is the name of this invaluable attendant?” asked Muller with a + strange smile which the doctor took to be slightly ironical. + </p> + <p> + “Gyuri Kovacz. You are amused at my enthusiasm? But consider my position + here. I am an old man and have never been a strong man. At my age I would + not have strength enough to force that little woman there—she thinks + herself possessed and is quite cranky at times—to go to her own room + when she doesn’t want to. And do you see that man over there in the blue + blouse? He is an excellent gardener but he believes himself to be + Napoleon, and when he has his acute attacks I would be helpless to control + him were it not for Gyuri.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are not afraid of Cardillac?” interrupted Muller. + </p> + <p> + “Not in the least. He is as good-natured as a child and as confiding. I + can let him walk around here as much as he likes. If it were not for the + absurd nonsense that he talks when he has one of his attacks, and which + frightens those who do not understand him, I could let him go free + altogether.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you never let him leave the asylum grounds? + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. I take him out with me very frequently. He is a man of + considerable education and a very clever talker. It is quite a pleasure to + be with him. That was the opinion of my poor friend also, my poor murdered + friend.” + </p> + <p> + “The pastor?” + </p> + <p> + “The pastor. He often invited Cardillac to come to the rectory with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed. Then Cardillac knew the inside of the rectory?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. The pastor used to lend him books and let him choose them himself + from the library shelves. The people in the village are very kind to my + poor patients here. I have long since had the habit of taking some of the + quieter ones with me down into the village and letting the people become + acquainted with them. It is good for both parties. It gives the patients + some little diversion, and it takes away the worst of the senseless fear + these peasants had at first of the asylum and its inmates. Cardillac in + particular is always welcome when he comes, for he brings the children all + sorts of toys that he makes in his cell.” + </p> + <p> + The detective had listened attentively and once his eyes flashed and his + lips shut tight as if to keep in the betraying whistle. Then he asked + calmly: “But the patients are only allowed to go out when you accompany + them, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; the attendants take them out sometimes. I prefer, however, to let + them go only with Gyuri, for I can depend upon him more than upon any of + the others.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he and Cardillac have been out together occasionally?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, quite frequently. But—pardon me—this is almost like + a cross-examination.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, doctor, it’s a bad habit of mine. One gets so + accustomed to it in my profession.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it you want?” asked Doctor Orszay, turning to a fine-looking + young man of superb build, who entered just then and stood by the door. + </p> + <p> + “I just wanted to announce, sir, that No. 302 is quiet again! + </p> + <p> + “302 is Cardillac himself, Mr. Muller, or to give him his right name, + Lajos Varna,” explained the doctor turning to his guest. “He is the 302nd + patient who has been received here in these twenty years. Then Cardillac + is quiet again?” he asked, looking up at the young giant. “I am glad of + that. You can announce our visit to him. This gentleman wants to inspect + the asylum.” + </p> + <p> + Muller realised that this was the attendant Gyuri, and he looked at him + attentively. He was soon clear in his own mind that this remarkably + handsome man did not please him, in fact awoke in him a feeling of + repulsion. The attendant’s quiet, almost cat-like movements were in + strange contrast to the massivity of his superb frame, and his large round + eyes, shaped for open, honest glances, were shifty and cunning. They + seemed to be asking “Are you trying to discover anything about me?” + coupled with a threat. “For your own sake you had better not do it.” + </p> + <p> + When the young man had left the room Muller rose hastily and walked up and + down several times. His face was flushed and his lips tight set. Suddenly + he exclaimed: “I do not like this Gyuri.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Orszay looked up astonished. “There are many others who do not like + him—most of his fellow-warders for instance, and all of the + patients. I think there must be something in the contrast of such quiet + movements with such a big body that gets on people’s nerves. But consider, + Mr. Muller, that the man’s work would naturally make him a little + different from other people. I have known Gyuri for five years as a + faithful and unassuming servant, always willing and ready for any duty, + however difficult or dangerous. He has but one fault—if I may call + it such—that is that he has a mistress who is known to be mercenary + and hard-hearted. She lives in a neighbouring village.” + </p> + <p> + “For five years, you say? And how long has Cardillac been here?” + </p> + <p> + “Cardillac? He has been here for almost three years.” + </p> + <p> + “For almost three years, and is it not almost three years—” Muller + interrupted himself. “Are we quite alone? Is no one listening?” The doctor + nodded, greatly surprised, and the detective continued almost in a + whisper, “and it is just about three years now that there have been + committed, at intervals, three terrible crimes notable from the cleverness + with which they were carried out, and from the utter impossibility, + apparently, of discovering the perpetrator.” + </p> + <p> + Orszay sprang up. His face flushed and then grew livid, and he put his + hand to his forehead. Then he forced a smile and said in a voice that + trembled in spite of himself: “Mr. Muller, your imagination is wonderful. + And which of these two do you think it is that has committed these crimes—the + perpetrator of which you have come here to find?” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you that later. I must speak to No. 302 first, and I must + speak to him in the presence of yourself and Gyuri.” + </p> + <p> + The detective’s deep gravity was contagious. Dr. Orszay had sufficiently + controlled himself to remember what he had heard in former days, and just + now recently from the district judge about this man’s marvellous deeds. He + realised that when Muller said a thing, no matter how extravagant it might + sound, it was worth taking seriously. This realisation brought great + uneasiness and grief to the doctor’s heart, for he had grown fond of both + of the men on whom terrible suspicion was cast by such an authority. + </p> + <p> + Muller himself was uneasy, but the gloom that had hung over him for the + past day or two had vanished. The impenetrable darkness that had + surrounded the mystery of the pastor’s murder had gotten on his nerves. He + was not accustomed to work so long over a problem without getting some + light on it. But now, since the chance watching of the spinning top in the + street had given him his first inkling of the trail, he was following it + up to a clear issue. The eagerness, the blissful vibrating of every nerve + that he always felt at this stage of the game, was on him again. He knew + that from now on what was still to be done would be easy. Hitherto his + mind had been made up on one point; that one man alone was concerned in + the crime. Now he understood the possibility that there might have been + two, the harmless mechanician who fancied himself a dangerous murderer, + and the handsome young giant with the evil eyes. + </p> + <p> + The two men stood looking at each other in a silence that was almost + hostile. Had this stranger come to disturb the peace of the refuge for the + unfortunate and to prove that Dr. Orszay, the friend of all the village, + had unwittingly been giving shelter to such criminals? + </p> + <p> + “Shall we go now?” asked the detective finally. + </p> + <p> + “If you wish it, sir,” answered the doctor in a tone that was decidedly + cool. + </p> + <p> + Muller held out his hand. “Don’t let us be foolish, doctor. If you should + find yourself terribly deceived, and I should have been the means of + proving it, promise me that you will not be angry with me.” + </p> + <p> + Orszay pressed the offered hand with a deep sigh. He realised the other’s + position and knew it was his duty to give him every possible assistance. + “What is there for me to do now?” he asked sadly. + </p> + <p> + “You must see that all the patients are shut up in their cells so that the + other attendants are at our disposal if we need them. Varna’s room has + barred windows, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And I suppose also that it has but one door. I believe you told me that + your asylum was built on the cell system.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, there is but one door to the room.” + </p> + <p> + “Let the four other attendants stand outside this door. Gyuri will be + inside with us. Tell the men outside that they are to seize and hold + whomever I shall designate to them. I will call them in by a whistle. You + can trust your people?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think I can.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I have my revolver,” said Muller calmly, “and now we can go.” + </p> + <p> + They left the room together, and found Gyuri waiting for them a little + further along the corridor. “Aren’t you well, sir?” the attendant asked + the doctor, with an anxious note in his voice. + </p> + <p> + The man’s anxiety was not feigned. He was really a faithful servant in his + devotion to the old doctor, although Muller had not misjudged him when he + decided that this young giant was capable of anything. Good and evil often + lie so close together in the human heart. + </p> + <p> + The doctor’s emotion prevented him from speaking, and the detective + answered in his place. “It is a sudden indisposition,” he said. “Lead me + to No. 302, who is waiting for us, I suppose. The doctor wants to lie down + a moment in his own room.” + </p> + <p> + Gyuri glanced distrustfully at this man whom he had met for the first time + to-day, but who was no stranger to him—for he had already learned + the identity of the guest in the rectory. Then he turned his eyes on his + master. The latter nodded and said: “Take the gentleman to Varna’s room. I + will follow shortly.” + </p> + <p> + The cell to which they went was the first one at the head of the + staircase. “Extremely convenient,” thought Muller to himself. It was a + large room, comfortably furnished and filled now with the red glow of the + setting sun. A turning-lathe stood by the window and an elderly man was at + work at it. Gyuri called to him and he turned and rose when he saw a + stranger. + </p> + <p> + Lajos Varna was a tall, loose-jointed man with sallow skin and tired eyes. + He gave only a hasty glance at his visitor, then looked at Gyuri. The + expression in his eyes as he turned them on those of the warder was like + the look in the eyes of a well-trained dog when it watches its master’s + face. Gyuri’s brows were drawn close together and his mouth set tight to a + narrow line. His eyes fairly bored themselves into the patient’s eyes with + an expression like that of a hypnotiser. + </p> + <p> + Muller knew now what he wanted to know. This young man understood how to + bend the will of others, even the will of a sick mind, to his own desires. + The little silent scene he had watched had lasted just the length of time + it had taken the detective to walk through the room and hold out his hand + to the patient. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want to disturb you, Mr. Varna,” he said in a friendly tone, with + a motion towards the bench from which the mechanician had just arisen. + Varna sat down again, obedient as a child. He was not always so + apparently, for Muller saw a red mark over the fingers of one hand that + was evidently the mark of a blow. Gyuri was not very choice in the methods + by which he controlled the patients confided to his care. + </p> + <p> + “May I sit down also?” asked Muller. + </p> + <p> + Varna pushed forward a chair. His movements were like those of an + automaton. + </p> + <p> + “And now tell me how you like it here?” began the detective. Varna + answered with a low soft voice, “Oh, I like it very much, sir.” As he + spoke he looked up at Gyuri, whose eyes still bore their commanding + expression. + </p> + <p> + “They treat you kindly here?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “The doctor is very good to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, the doctor is so good!” Varna’s dull eyes brightened. + </p> + <p> + “And the others are good to you also?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes.” The momentary gleam in the sad eye had vanished again. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you get this red scar?” + </p> + <p> + The patient became uneasy, he moved anxiously on his chair and looked up + at Gyuri. It was evident that he realised there would be more red marks if + he told the truth to this stranger. + </p> + <p> + Muller did not insist upon an answer. “You are uneasy and nervous + sometimes, aren’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I have been—nervous—lately.” + </p> + <p> + “And they don’t let you go out at such times?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I—no, I may not go out at such times.” + </p> + <p> + “But the doctor takes you with him sometimes—the doctor or Gyuri?” + asked the detective. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t had him out with me for weeks,” interrupted the attendant. He + seemed particularly anxious to have the “for weeks” clearly heard by this + inconvenient questioner. + </p> + <p> + Muller dropped this subject and took up another. “They tell me you are + very fond of children, and I can see that you are making toys for them + here.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I love children, and I am so glad they are not afraid of me.” These + words were spoken with more warmth and greater interest than anything the + man had yet said. + </p> + <p> + “And they tell me that you take gifts with you for the children every time + you go down to the village. This is pretty work here, and it must be a + pleasant diversion for you.” Muller had taken up a dainty little + spinning-wheel which was almost completed. “Isn’t it made from the wood of + a red yew tree?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the doctor gave me a whole tree that had been cut down in the park.” + </p> + <p> + “And that gave you wood for a long time?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed; I have been making toys from it for months.” Varna had + become quite eager and interested as he handed his visitor a number of + pretty trifles. The two had risen from their chairs and were leaning over + the wide window seat which served as a store-house for the wares turned + out by the busy workman. They were toys, mostly, all sorts of little pots + and plates, dolls’ furniture, balls of various sizes, miniature bowling + pins, and tops. Muller took up one of the latter. + </p> + <p> + “How very clever you are, and how industrious,” he exclaimed, sitting down + again and turning the top in his hands. It was covered with grey varnish + with tiny little yellow stripes painted on it. Towards the lower point a + little bit of the varnish had been broken off and the reddish wood + underneath was visible. The top was much better constructed than the cheap + toys sold in the village. It was hollow and contained in its interior a + mechanism started by a pressure on the upper end. Once set in motion the + little top spun about the room for some time. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, isn’t that pretty! Is this mechanism your own invention?” asked + Muller smiling. Gyuri watched the top with drawn brows and murmured + something about “childish foolishness.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is my own invention,” said the patient, flattered. He started out + on an absolutely technical explanation of the mechanism of tops in general + and of his own in particular, an explanation so lucid and so well put that + no one would have believed the man who was speaking was not in possession + of the full powers of his mind. + </p> + <p> + Muller listened very attentively with unfeigned interest. + </p> + <p> + “But you have made more important inventions than this, haven’t you?” he + asked when the other stopped talking. Varna’s eyes flashed and his voice + dropped to a tone of mystery as he answered: “Yes indeed I have. But I did + not have time to finish them. For I had become some one else.” + </p> + <p> + “Some one else?” + </p> + <p> + “Cardillac,” whispered Varna, whose mania was now getting the best of him + again. + </p> + <p> + “Cardillac? You mean the notorious goldsmith who lived in Paris 200 years + ago? Why, he’s dead.” + </p> + <p> + Varna’s pale lips curled in a superior smile. “Oh, yes—that’s what + people think, but it’s a mistake. He is still alive—I am—I + have—although of course there isn’t much opportunity here—” + </p> + <p> + Gyuri cleared his throat with a rasping noise. + </p> + <p> + “What were you saying, friend Cardillac?” asked Muller with a great show + of interest. + </p> + <p> + “I have done things here that nobody has found out. It gives me great + pleasure to see the authorities so helpless over the riddles I have given + them to solve. Oh, indeed, sir, you would never imagine how stupid they + are here.” + </p> + <p> + “In other words, friend Cardillac, you are too clever for the authorities + here? + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that’s it,” said the insane man greatly flattered. He raised his + head proudly and smiled down at his guest. At this moment the doctor came + into the room and Gyuri walked forward to the group at the window. + </p> + <p> + “You are making him nervous, sir,” he said to Muller in a tone that was + almost harsh. + </p> + <p> + “You can leave that to me,” answered the detective calmly. “And you will + please place yourself behind Mr. Varna’s chair, not behind mine. It is + your eyes that are making him uneasy.” + </p> + <p> + The attendant was alarmed and lost control of himself for a moment. “Sir!” + he exclaimed in an outburst. + </p> + <p> + “My name is Muller, in case you do not know it already, Joseph Muller, + detective. Gyuri Kovacz, you will do what I tell you to! I am master here + just now. Is it not so, doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is so,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “What does this mean?” murmured Gyuri, turning pale. + </p> + <p> + “It means that the best thing for you to do is to stand up against that + wall and fold your arms on your breast,” said Muller firmly. He took a + revolver from his pocket and laid it beside him on the turning-lathe. The + young giant, cowed by the sight of the weapon, obeyed the commands of this + little man whom he could have easily crushed with a single blow. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Orszay sank down on the chair beside the door. Muller, now completely + master of the situation, turned to the insane man who stood looking at him + in a surprise which was mingled with admiration. + </p> + <p> + “And now, my dear Cardillac, you must tell us of your great deeds here,” + said the detective in a friendly tone. + </p> + <p> + The unfortunate man bent over him with shining eyes and whispered: “But + you’ll shoot him first, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I shoot him?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he won’t let me say a word without beating me. He is so cruel. He + sticks pins into me if I don’t do what he wants.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t you tell the doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “Gyuri would have treated me worse than ever then. I am a coward, sir, I’m + so afraid of pain and he knew that—he knew that I was afraid of + being hurt and that I’d always do what he asked of me. And because I don’t + like to be hurt myself I always finished them off quickly.” + </p> + <p> + “Finished who?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, there was Red Betty, he wanted her money.” + </p> + <p> + “Who wanted it?” + </p> + <p> + “Gyuri.” + </p> + <p> + The man at the wall moved when he heard this terrible accusation. But the + detective took up his revolver again. “Be quiet there!” he called, with a + look such as he might have thrown at an angry dog. Gyuri stood quiet again + but his eyes shot flames and great drops stood out on his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Now go on, friend Cardillac,” continued the detective. “We were talking + about Red Betty.” + </p> + <p> + “I strangled her. She did not even know she was dying. She was such a weak + old woman, it really couldn’t have hurt her.” + </p> + <p> + “No, certainly not,” said Muller soothingly, for he saw that the thought + that his victim might have suffered was beginning to make the madman + uneasy. “You needn’t worry about that. Old Betty died a quiet death. But + tell me, how did Gyuri know that she had money?” + </p> + <p> + “The whole village knew it. She laid cards for people and earned a lot of + money that way. She was very stingy and saved every bit. Somebody saw her + counting out her money once, she had it in a big stocking under her bed. + People in the village talked about it. That’s how Gyuri heard of it.” + </p> + <p> + “And so he commanded you to kill Betty and steal her money?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. He knew that I loved to give them riddles to guess, just as I did in + Paris so long ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you’re Cardillac, aren’t you? And now tell us about the smith’s + swineherd.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean Janos? Oh, he was a stupid lout,” answered Varna scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “He had cast an eye on the beautiful Julcsi, Gyuri’s mistress, so of + course I had to kill him.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you do that alone?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Gyuri helped me.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you cut the bridge supports?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I enjoy giving people riddles, as I told you. But Gyuri forbade + me to kill people uselessly. I liked the chance of getting out though. The + doctor’s so good to me and the others too. Gyuri is good to me when I have + done what he wanted. But you see, Mr. Muller, I am like a prisoner here + and that makes me angry. I made Gyuri let me out nights sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean he let you out alone, all alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course, for I threatened to tell the doctor everything if he + didn’t.” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn’t have dared do that.” + </p> + <p> + “No, that’s true,” smiled Varna slyly. “But Gyuri was afraid I might do + it, for he isn’t always strong enough to frighten me with his eyes. Those + were the hours when I could make him afraid—I liked those hours—” + </p> + <p> + “What did you do when you were out alone at night?” + </p> + <p> + “I just walked about. I set fire to a tree in the woods once, then the + rain came and put it out. Once I killed a dog and another time I cut + through the bridge supports. That took me several hours to do and made me + very tired. But it was such fun to know that people would be worrying and + fussing about who did it.” + </p> + <p> + Varna rubbed his hands gleefully. He did not look the least bit malicious + but only very much amused. The doctor groaned. Gyuri’s great body + trembled, his arms shook, but he did not make a single voluntary movement. + He saw the revolver in Muller’s hand and felt the keen grey eyes resting + on him in pitiless calm. + </p> + <p> + “And now tell us about the pastor?” said the detective in a firm clear + voice. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he was a dear, good gentleman,” said No. 302 with an expression of + pitying sorrow on his face. “I owed him much gratitude; that’s why I put + the roses in his hand.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but you murdered him first.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, Gyuri told me to.” + </p> + <p> + “And why?” + </p> + <p> + “He hated the pastor, for the old gentleman had no confidence in him.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this true?” Muller turned to the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “I did not notice it,” said Orszay with a voice that showed deep sorrow. + </p> + <p> + “And you?” Muller’s eyes bored themselves into the orbs of the young + giant, now dulled with fear. + </p> + <p> + Gyuri started and shivered. “He looked at me sharply every now and then,” + he murmured. + </p> + <p> + “And that was why he was killed?” + </p> + <p> + The warder’s head sank on his breast. + </p> + <p> + “No, not only for that reason,” continued No. 302. “Gyuri needed money + again. He ordered me to bring him the silver candlesticks off the altar.” + </p> + <p> + “Murder and sacrilege,” said the detective calmly. + </p> + <p> + “No, I did not rob the church. When I had buried the reverend gentleman I + heard the cock crowing. I was afraid I might get home here too late and I + forgot the candlesticks. I had to stop to wash my hands in the brook. + While I was there I saw shepherd Janci coming along and I hid behind the + willows. He almost discovered me once, but Janci’s a dreamer, he sees + things nobody else sees—and he doesn’t see things that everybody + else does see. I couldn’t help laughing at his sleepy face. But I didn’t + laugh when I came back to the asylum. Gyuri was waiting for me at the + door. When he saw that I hadn’t brought the candlesticks he beat me and + tortured me worse than he’d ever done before.” + </p> + <p> + “And you didn’t tell anyone?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no; because I was afraid that if I told on him, I’d never be able to + go out again.” + </p> + <p> + “And you, quite alone, could carry the pastor’s body out of his room?” + </p> + <p> + “I am very strong.” + </p> + <p> + “How did you arrange it that there should be no traces of blood to betray + you?” + </p> + <p> + “I waited until the body had stiffened, then I tied up the wound and + carried him down into the crypt.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you do that?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t want to leave him in that horrid pool of blood.” + </p> + <p> + “You were sorry for him then?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes; it looked so horrid to see him lying there—and he had + always been so good to me. He was so good to me that very evening when I + entered his study. + </p> + <p> + “He recognised you? + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. He sprang up from his chair when I came in through the passage + from the church. I saw that he was startled, but he smiled at me and + reached out his hand to me and said: ‘What brings you here, my dear + Cardillac?’ And then I struck. I wanted him to die with that smile on his + lips. It is beautiful to see a man die smiling, it shows that he has not + been afraid of death. He was dead at once. I always kill that way—I + know just how to strike and where. I killed more than a hundred people + years ago in Paris, and I didn’t leave one of them the time for even a + sigh. I was renowned for that—I had a kind heart and a sure hand.” + </p> + <p> + Muller interrupted the dreadful imaginings of the madman with a question. + “You got into the house through the crypt?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, through the crypt. I found the window one night when I was prowling + around in the churchyard. When I knew that the pastor was to be the next, + I cut through the window bars. Gyuri went into the church one day when + nobody was there and found out that it was easy to lift the stone over the + entrance to the crypt. He also learned that the doors from the church to + the vestry were never locked. I knew how to find the passageway, because I + had been through it several times on my visits to the rectory. But it was + a mere chance that the door into the pastor’s study was unlocked.” + </p> + <p> + “A chance that cost the life of a worthy man,” said the detective gravely. + </p> + <p> + Varna nodded sadly. “But he didn’t suffer, he was dead at once.” + </p> + <p> + “And now tell me what this top was doing there?” No. 302 looked at the + detective in great surprise, and then laid his hand on the latter’s arm. + “How did you know that I had the top there?” he asked with a show of + interest. + </p> + <p> + “I found its traces in the room, and it was those traces that led me here + to you,” answered Muller. + </p> + <p> + “How strange!” remarked Varna. “Are you like shepherd Janci that you can + see the things others don’t see?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I have not Janci’s gift. It would be a great comfort to me and a help + to the others perhaps if I had. I can only see things after they have + happened.” + </p> + <p> + “But you can see more than others—the others did not see the traces + of the top?” + </p> + <p> + “My business is to see more than others see,” said Muller. “But you have + not told me yet what the top was doing there. Why did you take a toy like + that with you when you went out on such an errand?” + </p> + <p> + “It was in my pocket by chance. When I reached for my handkerchief to + quench the flow of blood the top came out with it. I must have touched the + spring without knowing it, for the top began to spin. I stood still and + watched it, then I ran after it. It spun around the room and finally came + back to the body. So did I. The pastor was quite still and dead by that + time.” + </p> + <p> + “You have heard everything, Dr. Orszay?” asked the detective, rising from + his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have heard everything,” answered the venerable head of the asylum. + He was utterly crushed by the realisation that all this tragedy and horror + had gone out from his house. + </p> + <p> + Varna rose also. He understood perfectly that now Gyuri’s power was at an + end and he was as pleased as a child that has just received a present. + “And now you’re going to shoot him?” he asked, in the tone a boy would use + if asking when the fireworks were to begin. + </p> + <p> + Muller shook his head. “No, my dear Cardillac,” he replied gravely. “He + will not be shot—that is a death for a brave soldier—but this + man has deserved—” He did not finish the sentence, for the warder + sank to the floor unconscious. + </p> + <p> + “What a coward!” murmured the detective scornfully, looking down at the + giant frame that lay prostrate before him. Even in his wide experience he + had known of no case of a man of such strength and such bestial cruelty, + combined with such utter cowardice. + </p> + <p> + Varna also stood looking down at the unconscious warder. Then he glanced + up with a cunning smile at the other two men who stood there. The doctor, + pale and trembling with horror, covered his face with his hands. Muller + turned to the door to call in the attendants waiting outside. During the + moment’s pause that ensued the madman bent over his worktable, seized a + knife that lay there and dropped on one knee beside the prostrate form. + His hand was raised to strike when a calm voice said: “Fie! Cardillac, for + shame! Do not belittle yourself. This man here is not worthy of your + knife, the hangman will look after him.” + </p> + <p> + Varna raised his loose-jointed frame and looked about with glistening eyes + and trembling lips. His mind was completely darkened once more. “I must + kill him—I must have his blood—there is no one to see me,” he + murmured. “I am a hangman too—he has made a hangman of me,” and + again he bent with uplifted hand over the man who had utilised his + terrible misfortune to make a criminal of him. But two of the waiting + attendants seized his arms and threw him back on the floor, while the + other two carted Gyuri out. Both unfortunates were soon securely guarded. + </p> + <p> + “Do not be angry with me, doctor,” said Muller gravely, as he walked + through the garden accompanied by Orszay. + </p> + <p> + Doctor Orszay laughed bitterly. “Why should I be angry with you—you + who have discovered my inexcusable credulity?” + </p> + <p> + “Inexcusable? Oh, no, doctor; it was quite natural that you should have + believed a man who had himself so well in hand, and who knew so well how + to play his part. When we come to think of it, we realise that most crimes + have been made possible through some one’s credulity, or over-confidence, + a credulity which, in the light of subsequent events, seems quite + incomprehensible. Do not reproach yourself and do not lose heart. Your + only fault was that you did not recognise the heart of the beast of prey + in this admirable human form.” + </p> + <p> + “What course will the law take?” asked Orszay. “The poor unfortunate + madman—whose knife took all these lives—cannot be held + responsible, can he?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; his misfortune protects him. But as for the other, though his + hands bear no actual bloodstains, he is more truly a murderer than the + unhappy man who was his tool. Hanging is too good for him. There are times + when even I could wish that we were back in the Middle Ages, when it was + possible to torture a prisoner. + </p> + <p> + “You do not look like that sort of a man,” smiled the doctor through his + sadness. + </p> + <p> + “No, I am the most good-natured of men usually, I think—the meekest + anyway,” answered Muller. “But a case like this—. However, as I said + before, keep a stout heart, doctor, and do not waste time in unnecessary + self-reproachings.” The detective pressed the doctor’s hand warmly and + walked down the hill towards the village. + </p> + <p> + He went at once to the office of the magistrate and made his report, then + returned to the rectory and packed his grip. He arranged for its transport + to the railway station, as he himself preferred to walk the inconsiderable + distance. He passed through the village and had just entered the open + fields when he met Janci with his flock. The shepherd hastened his steps + when he saw the detective approaching. + </p> + <p> + “You have found him, sir?” he exclaimed as he came up to Muller. The men + had come to be friends by this time. The silent shepherd with the power of + second sight had won Muller’s interest at once. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I found him. It is Gyuri, the warder at the asylum.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, it is not Gyuri—Gyuri did not do it.” + </p> + <p> + “But when I tell you that he did?” + </p> + <p> + “But I tell you, sir, that Gyuri did not do it. The man who did it—he + has yellowish hands—I saw them—I saw big yellowish hands. + Gyuri’s hands are big, but they are brown.” + </p> + <p> + “Janci, you are right. I was only trying to test you. Gyuri did not do it; + that is, he did not do it with his own hands. The man who held the knife + that struck down the pastor was Varna, the crazy mechanician.” + </p> + <p> + Janci beat his forehead. “Oh, I am a foolish and useless dreamer!” he + exclaimed; “of course it was Varna’s hands that I saw. I have seen them a + hundred times when he came down into the village, and yet when I saw them + in the vision I did not recognise them.” + </p> + <p> + “We’re all dreamers, Janci—and our dreams are very useless + generally.” + </p> + <p> + “Yours are not useless, sir,” said the shepherd. “If I had as much brains + as you have, my dreams might be of some good.” + </p> + <p> + Muller smiled. “And if I had your visions, Janci, it would be a powerful + aid to me in my profession.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think you need them, sir. You can find out the hidden things + without them. You are going to leave us?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Janci, I must go back to Budapest, and from there to Vienna. They + need me on another case.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a sad work, this bringing people to the gallows, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Janci, it is sometimes. But it’s a good thing to be able to avenge + crime and bring justice to the injured. Good-bye, Janci.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, sir, and God speed you.” + </p> + <p> + The shepherd stood looking after the small, slight figure of the man who + walked on rapidly through the heather. “He’s the right one for the work,” + murmured Janci as he turned slowly back towards the village. + </p> + <p> + An hour later Muller stood in the little waiting-room of the railway + station writing a telegram. It was addressed to Count ——. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Do you know the shepherd Janci? It would be a good thing to + make him the official detective for the village. He has high + qualifications for the profession. If I had his gifts combined + with my own, not one could escape me. I have found this one + however. The guards are already taking him to you. My work + here is done. If I should be needed again I can be found at + Police Headquarters, Vienna. + “Respectfully, + “JOSEPH MULLER.” + </pre> + <p> + While the detective was writing his message—it was one of the rare + moments of humour that Muller allowed himself, and he wondered mildly what + the stately Hungarian nobleman would think of it—a heavy farm wagon + jolted over the country roads towards the little county seat. Sitting + beside the driver and riding about the wagon were armed peasants. The + figure of a man, securely bound, his face distorted by rage and fear, lay + in the wagon. It was Gyuri Kovacz, who had murdered by the hands of + another, and who was now on his way to meet the death that was his due. + </p> + <p> + And at one of the barred windows in the big yellow house stood a + sallow-faced man, looking out at the rising moon with sad, tired eyes. His + lips were parted in a smile like that of a dreaming child, and he hummed a + gentle lullaby. + </p> + <p> + In his compartment of the express from Budapest to Vienna, Joseph Muller + sat thinking over the strange events that had called him to the obscure + little Hungarian village. He had met with many strange cases in his long + career, but this particular case had some features which were unique. + Muller’s lips set hard and his hands tightened to fists as he murmured: + “I’ve met with criminals who used strange tools, but never before have I + met with one who had the cunning and the incredible cruelty to utilise the + mania of an unhinged human mind. It is a thousand times worse than those + criminals who, now and then throughout the ages, have trained brute beasts + to murder for them. Truly, this Hungarian peasant, Gyuri Kovacz, deserves + a high place in the infamous roll-call of the great criminals of history. + A student of crime might almost be led to think that it is a pity his + career has been cut short so soon. He might have gone far. + </p> + <p> + “But for humanity’s sake” (Muller’s eyes gleamed), “I am thankful that I + was able to discover this beast in human form and render him innocuous; he + had done quite enough.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Case of The Pool of Blood in the +Pastor’s Study, by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POOL OF BLOOD *** + +***** This file should be named 1835-h.htm or 1835-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/1835/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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