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Lorsque le document est trop grand pour §tre reproduit en un seul cliche, il est filmd d partir de Tangle sup^rieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 HBBflffll THE CHIEF JUST J ^' r, BY KARL EMIL FRANZOS, AUTHOR OF " THE WITCH, " A BATTLE FOR THE RIGHT,' ETC., ETC. MONTREAL JOHN LOVELL & SON. 23 St. Nicholas Street. '^^^mrf Entered according to Act of Parliament in the year 1890, T)y John L<>vell er* Son, in the office and Statistics at Ottawa. %)f. the Minister of Agriculture ^m^ii^- INTRODUCTION. Thp: remote Austrian province of (ialir.ia has, in our generation, produced two of the most original of modern novelists, Leopold von Sacher-Masoch and Karl Emil Franzos. The latter, who is the author of the volume here presented to English readers, was born on the 25th of October, 1848, just over the frontier, in a ranger's house in the midst of one of the vast forests of Russian Podolia. His father, a Polish Jew, was the district doctor of the town of Czorskow, in Galicia, where the boy received his first lessons in literature from his German mother. In 1858, Franzos was sent, on the death of his father, to the Ger- man college at Czernowitz ; at the age of fourteen, accord- ing to the published accounts of his life, he was left entirely to his own resources, and gained a precarious livelihood by teaching. After various attempts at making a path for himself in science and law, and finding that his being a Jew stood in the way of a professional career, he turned, as so many German Israelites have done before and since, to journalism, first in Vienna, then at Pesth, then in Vienna again, where he still continues to reside. In 1876, Franzos published his first book, two volumes entitled " Ans Halb-.Vsia " (From Semi-Asia), a series of ethnological studies on the people of (ialicia, Hukowina, 4 INTRODUCTION. South Russia and Roumania, whom he described as in a twilight of semi barbaric darkness, not wholly in the sun- shine of Europe. This was followed in 1878 by Vom Don zur Donau " (From the Don to the Danube), a similar series of studies in ethnography. Meanwhile, in ** Die Juden von Barnow" (The Jews of Barnow), 1877, ^^ ^^^ published his first collection of tales drawn from his early experience. He followed it in 1879 by '* Junge Liebe " (Young Love), two short stories, " Brown Rosa " and ** Brandenegg's Cousins," extremely romantic in character and written in an elaborate and somewhat extravagant style. These volumes achieved a great and instant success. The succeeding novels of Franzos have been numerous, and unequal in value. " Moschko von Parma," in 1880, was a pathetic study of the vicissitudes of a young Jewish soldier in the wars. In the same year Franzos published "Die Hexe" (The Witch). The best known of his writ- ings in this country is Ein Kampf urn' s Richt (A Battle for the Right), 1882, which was published in English, with an introduction by George MacDonald, and attracted the favorable and even enthusiastic notice of Mr. Gladstone Der Prasident, which is here translated, appeared in Ger- many in 1884. EDMUND GOSSE. i « i i THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. CHAPTER I. In the Supreme Court of Bolosch, an important Ger- man-Slavonic town of northern Austria, there sat as Chief-Justice some thirty years ago, one of the bravest and best of those men on whom true justice might hopefully reckon in that sorely tried land. Charles Victor Baron von Sendlingen, as he may be called in this record of his fate, was the last descendant of a very ancient and meritorious race which could trace its origin to a collateral branch of the Franconian Em- perors, and which had once upon a time possessed rich lands and mines on the shores of the WortherSee : now indeed by reason of an adverse fate and the love of splendour of some of its scions, there had gradually come to be nothing left of all this save a series of high- sounding titles. But the decline of fame and influence had not kept pace with the loss of lands and wealth ; the Sendlingens had entered the service of the Haps- burgs, and in the last two hundred years had given the THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. Austrian Hereditary Dominions not only several brave generals but an almost unbroken linr of administrators and guardians of Justice. And so, although they were entirely dependent on their slender oflicial salaries, they were reckoned with j^ood reason among the tirst fam- ilies of the Empire, and a Sendlingcn might from his cradle count upon the office of Chief Justice of one of the principal circuits. Even unkind envy, to say noth- ing of honest report, was obliged to admit that these hereditary patricians of Justice had always shown them- selves worthy of their sacred office, and just as they regularly inherited certain physical characteristics — great stature, bright eyes and coal-black curly hair — so also gifted intellects, iron industry, and a sense of duty which often enough bordered on self-denial, were always among their gifts. "The majesty of the law is the most sacred majesty on earth." Thus spake the first of this family who had entered the service of the Imperial Courts of Justice, the Baron Victor Ama- deus, Chief Judge of the Vienna Senate, in answer to an irregular demand of Ferdinand the Catholic, and his descendants held fast to the maxim in good days and evil, even in those worst days when Themis threat- ened, in this country also, to sink to the level of the venal mistress of Princes. The greatest of the Ilaps- burgs, Joseph II., knew how to value this at its right worth, and although he much disliked hereditary offices, he on this account appointed the Baron Charles Victor, THE CHIEl-jrsriCE. 7 f in spite of his youth, as his fathers successor in one of the most important ofticcs of ihe State. This was the grandfather of that Sendlingen whose story is to be toUl here, a powerful man of unusual strength of will, who had again raised the reputation of the family to a most flourishing condition. But al- though everything went so well with him, the dearest wish of his heart was not to be realized ; he was not to transmit office and reputati(Mi to his son. This son, Franz Victor, our hero's father, had to pass his life wretchedly in an insignitlcant position, the only one among the Sendlingens who wont to his grave in mature years, unrcnowned and indeed despised. This fate had not overtaken him through lack of abil- ity or industry. He too proved himself a true son of this distinguished race, gifted, persevering, thorough, devoted heart and soul to his studies and his oflticial duties. But a youthful escapade had embroiled him in the beginning of his career with father and relations : a girl of the lower orders, the daughter of the con- cierge at the courts where his father presided, had be- come dear to him and in a moment of passion he had betrayed her. When the girl could no longer conceal the consequences of her fault, s'he went and threw her- self at the feet of the Chief-Justice, imploring him to pro- tect her from her parents' wrath. The old man could hardly contain his agony of indignation, but he sum- moned his son, and having heard from his lips the truth 8 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. w of the accusation he resolved the matter by sayingf : "The wedding will take place next Sunday. A Send- lingen may be thout^htless, a scoundrel he must never be." They were married without show and in com- plete secrecy, and at once started for a little spot in the Tyrolean mountains whither liaron von Sendlingen had caused his son and heir to be transferred. This event made a tremendous sensation. For the first time a Sendlingen had married out of his rank, the daugliter of a menial too, and constrained to it by his father ! People hardly knew how to decide which of the two, father or son, had sinned most against the dignity of the family ; similar affairs were usually set- tled by the nobles of the land in all secrecy and wjthout leaving a stain on their genealogical tree. Even Kaiser Franz, although his opinions about morality were so rigid, once signified something of the kind to the hon- orable old judge, but he received the same answer as was given to his son. The embittered old man was indeed equally steadfast in maintaining a complete sev- erance of the bonds between him and his only son ; the letters which every mail from the Tyrol brought, were left unopened, and even in his last illness he would not suffer the outcast to be recalled. After the death of the Judge, his son came to be completely forgotten : only occasionally his aristocratic relations used to recount with a shrug of the shoulders, that they had again been obliged to return a letter of THE CHI fiF JUSTICE. ? this insolent follow to thr place where it came from. Nevertheless they learnt the contents of tiiese letters from a ^ood-natnred old aunt : they told of the death of his first child, then of the birth of a boy whom he had called after his grandfather, and while he obsti- nately kept silence abont the hai)piness or oiherwise of his marriage, he more and more urgently begged for deliverance from the Cju/. T >rsaken corner of the globe in which he languished anc; for promotion to a worthier post. Although the only person who read these letters was, with all he. pity, unabl' to help him, he never grew weary of writing. The tt^'^e of his letters became year by year more bitter and despaning and whereas he had at first asked for special favors, he now fiercely demanded the cessation of these hostile intrigues. Perhaps the embittered man was unjust lo his relations in making this reproach, — they seemed in no way to concern themselves about him, whether to his interest or his injury, — but he really was badly treated, and, leaving out the influence of his name, he was not even able to obtain what he might have expected according;; to the regulations of the service. An excellent judge, of exemplary industry, he was forced to continue for years in this Tyrolean wilderness until at length one day he was pr'>mote(l to a judgeship on the Klagen- furth Circuit. But he was not long able to enjoy his imp-'wed position : bitter repentance antl the slrug- 10 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. ^le with wretchedness had prematurely undermined his strength. He died, soon after his wife, and his last con- cern on earth was an imploring prayer to his relations to adopt his boy. This prayer would perhaps not have been necessary to secure the orphan that sympathy which his much-to- be-pitied father had in vain sought to obtain for himself. Charles Victor, now fourteen years of age, was carried off in a sort of triumph emd brought to Vienna : even the Emperor gratefully remembered the faithful services which this noble house had for centuries rendered to his throne, and he caused its last surviving male to be educated at his expense in the Academy of Maria Theresa. The beautiful, slender boy won the symi)athies of his natural guardians by his mere appearance, by the serious expression peculiar to his family and by his surprising resemblance to his grandfather; excellent gifts, a quiet, steady love of work and a self-contained, almost manly sweetness of disposition, made him dear to both his masters and his comrades. He was the best scholar at the Academy, and he justified the hopes which he had aroused by the brilliant success of his legal studies. But his eagerness to obtain a knowl- edge of the world and to see foreign countries was equally great, and the modest fortune left him by his grandfather made the fuHilment of these desires pos- sible. When, being of age, he returned to Austria and THE CniEl-JUSi'iCE II entered on liis legal duties, it needed no partieular nisii rht t( d ad o propnesy a rapid aclvancenient in Ins eareer. In fact after a brief term of office as judge-advocate in the eastern provinces, he was transferred to Bohemia and shortly afteru'ards married a beautiful, proud 14 THE CHIEF-JUSriCE. but independent judge. He himself was prepared for the worst, but his friend Berger took a more hopeful view ; rudeness, he said, had become the fashion again in Vienna, and perhaps something good was in store for him. This supposition proved correct ; the Minister wished the assistance of the learnt \ speciaHst in drawing up a new statute for the administration of justice. The Commission of Inquiry, originally called for two months, continued its deliberations till the autumn. It was not till the beginning of November that Sendlingen started for home, having received as a mark of the Ministers gratitude the nomination as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court at Pfalicz, a post which he was to enter upon in four months. This was a brilliant appointment, and unexampled in one of his years, but the thought of leaving the much-loved circle of his labours made him sorrowful. And this feeling was increased when the citizens tes- tified by a public reception at the station how greatly they were rejoiced at his return. His lonely dwelling, too, had been decorated by friendly hands, as also the Courts of Justice. He found it difficult to announce his departure in answer to the speech of welcome delivered by his Deputy. And, indeed, his announce- ment was received with exclamations of regret and amazement, and it was only by degrees that his audi- THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. »5 tors sufficiently recovered themselves to congratulate their beloved chief. Only one of them did so vi^ith a really happy heart, his Deputy, von Werner, an old, industrious, if not very gifted, official, who now likewise saw a certain hope of promotion. With a pleased smile, the little weazened man followed Sendlingen into his chambers, in order to give him an account of the judicial proceed- ings of the last six months. Herr von Werner was a sworn enemy of all oral reports, and had, therefore, not only prepared two beautifully drawn-up lists of the civil and criminal trials, but had written a memorial which he now read out by way of introduction. Sendlingen listened patiently to this lengthy docu- ment. But when Werner was going to take up the lists with the same intention, the Chief Justice with a pleasant smile anticipated him. "We will look through them together," he said, and began with the criminal list. It contained the name, age and calling of the accused, the date of their jail- delivery, their crime, as well as the present position of the trial. "There are more arrears than I expected," he said, with some surprise. "But the number of crimes has unfortunately greatly increased," objected Herr von Werner, zealously; "es- pecially the cases of child-murder." "You are right," Sendlingen glanced through the i6 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. column specifying the crimes, and then remamed phmged in deep thought. "The number is nearly doubled," he resumed; "and it is not only here but in the whole P^mpire that this horrible phenomenon manifests itself ! The Minis- ister of Justice complained of it to me with much concern." "But what else could one expect } " cried old Werner. "This accursed revolution has undermined all dis- cipline, morals and religion ! And then the leniency with which these inhuman women are treated — why, it is years since the death-sentence has been carried out in a case of child-murder." "That will unfortunately soon be changed," an- swered Sendlingen, in a troubled tone. "The Minister of Justice thinks as you do, and would like an imme- diate example to be made. It is unfortunate, I repeat, and not merely because from principle I am an op- ponent of the theory of deterring by fear. Of all social evils, this can least of all be cured by the hangman. And if it is so rank now-a-days, I do not think the reason is to be found where you and Hip Excellency seek it, but in the sudden inpoverishment, the uncer- tainty of circumstances and the brutality which, every- where and always, follow upon a great upheaval. The true physicians are the political economist, the priest, and the schoolmaster ! . . Or have you ever, perhaps, known a case among educated people ? " THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 17 "Oh, certainly ! " answered Herr von Werner im- portantly. "I have, as it happens, to preside to-morrow, — that is to say unless you will take the case — at the conclusion of a trial against a criminal of that class ; at least she must be well-educated as she was governess in the house of a Countess. See here — Case No. 19 on the list." He pointed with his finger to the place. Then a dreadful thing happened. Hardly had Send- lingen glanced at the name which Werner indicated, than he uttered a hollow, choking cry, a cry of deadly anguish. His face was livid, his features were dis- torted by an expression of unutterable terror, his eyes started out of their sockets and stared in a sort of fascination at the list before him. "Great heavens!" cried Werner, himself much alarmed, as he seized his chiefs hand. " What is the matter with you.? Do you know this girl ?" Sendlingen made no reply. He closed his eyes, rested both arms on the table and tried to rise. But his limbs refused to support him, and he sank down in his chair like one in a faint. " Water ! Help ! " cried Werner, making for the bell. A movement of Sendlingen 's stopped him. "It is nothing," he gasped with white lips and parched throat. "An attack of my heart disease. It has lately — become — much worse." "Oh ! " cried Werner, with genuine sympathy. "I never even suspected it before. Everybody thought i8 THE CHIEFJUSTJCE. you were in the best of health. What do the doctors say?" Again there was no answer. Breathing with diffi- culty, livid, his head sunk on his breast, his eyes closed, Sendlingen lay back in his chair. And when he raised his eyelids Werner met such a hopeless, despairing look, that the old gentleman involuntarily started back. " May I," he began timidly, " call a doctor — " "No!" Sendlingen's refusal was almost angry. Again he attempted to rise and this time he succeeded. " Thank you," he said feebly. " I must have fright- ened you. I am better now, and shall soon be quite well." " But you are going home? " "Why should I? I will rest in this comfortable chair for half an hour, and then, my dear colleague, I shall be quite at your service again." The old gentleman departed, but not without hesita- tion : even he was really attached to Sendlingen. The other officials also received the news of this attack with genuine regret, especially as Werner several times repeated in his important manner : " Any external cause is quite out of the question, gentlemen, quite out of the question. We were just quietly talking about judicial matters. Ah, heart- disease is treacherous, gentlemen, very treacherous." Hardly had the door closed, when Sendlingen sank down in his chair, drew the lists towards him and again THE CHIEF jrSTICE. 19 stared at that particular spot with a look on his face as if his sentence of death was written there. The entry read thus : "Victorine Lippert, born 25th January, 1834, at Radautz in Bukowina. Governess. Child-murder. Transferred here from the District Court at Golotz on the 17th June, 1852. Confessed. Trial to be concluded 8th November, 1852." The column headed " sentence " was still empty. ' * Death ! " he muttered. " Death ! " he repeated loud and shrill, and a shudder ran through his every fibre. He sank back and hid his face which had suddenly become worn and wasted. "O my God ! " he groaned. " I dare not let her die — her blood would cry out against me, against me only." And he drew the paper towards him again and stared at the entry piteously and beseechingly, as though he expected a miracle from Heaven, as though the letters must change beneath the intensity of his gaze. The mid-day bells of the neighboring cathedral aroused him from his gloomy brooding. He rose, smoothed his disarranged hair, forced on his accustomed look of quiet and betook himself to Werner's room. "You see," he said. " I have kept my word and am all right again. Are there any pressing matters to be got rid of?" "Only one," answered Werner. "The Committee of Discipline has waited your return as it did not wish to decide an important case without you." 30 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE, "Good, summon the Committee for five o'clock to- day." He now went the round ofthe other offices, answered the anxious inquiries with the assurance that he was quite well again, and then went down a long corridor to his own quarters which were in another wing ofthe large building. His step was still elastic, his face pale, but almost cheerful. Not until he had given his servant orders to admit nobody, not even his friend Berger, and until he had bolted his study-door, did he sink down and then give himself up without restraint to the fury of a wild, despairing agony. THE CHIEF-JUSTICE, %\ CHAPTER II. For an hour or more the unhappy man lay groaning, and writhing Hke a worm under the intensity of his agony. Then he rose and with unsteady gait went to his writing-table and began to rummage in the secret drawers of the old-fashioned piece of furniture. "I no longer remember where it is," he muttered to himself. "It is long since I thought of the old story — but God has not forgotten it." At length he discovered what he was looking for : a small packet of letters grown yellow with time. As he unloosened the string which tied them, a smau water- color portrait in a narrow silver frame fell out : it de- picted the gentle, sweet features of a young, fair, grey- eyed girl. His eyes grew moist as he looked at it, and bitter tears suddenly coursed down his cheeks. He then unfolded the papers and began to read ; they were long letters ; the last but one, however, filled no more than two small sheets. This he read with the greatest attention of all, read and re-read it with ever- increasing emotion. "And I could resist such words ! " he murmured. "Oh, wretched man that I am.'' 33 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. Then he opened the last of the letters. ' ' You evi- dently did not yourself expect that 1 would take your gift," he read out in an undertone. And then : " I do not curse you, on the contrary, 1 ardently hope that you may at least not have given me up in vain." He folded the letters and tied them up. Then he un- did them again and buried himself once more in their melancholy contents. A knock at the door interrupted him : his house- keeper announced that dinner was ready. This house- keeper was an honest, elderly spinster, Fraulein Brigitta, whom he usually treated with the greatest consideration. To-day he only answered her with a curt, impatient, "Presently!" and he vouchsafed no lengthier reply to he;; question how he was. But then he remembered some one else. "I must not get ill," he said. "I must keep up my strength. I shall need it all ! " And after he had locked up the letters, he went to the dining-room. He forced himself to take two or three spoonfuls of soup, and hastily emptied a glass of old Rhine-wine. His servant Franz, likewise a faithful old soul, replen- ished it but hesitatingly and with averted countenance. ** Where is Fraulein Brigitta ? " asked Sendlingen. " Crying ! " growled the old man. '* Hasn't got used to the new state of things ! Nor have I ! Nice con- duct, my lord ! We arrive in the morning ill, we say nothing to an old and faithful servant, we go straight THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. n into the Courts. There we fall down several times ; we send for no doctor, but writhe alone in pain like a wounded stag." The faithful old-fellow's eyes were wet. "I am quite well again, Franz," said Sendlingen reassuringly. "We were groaning ! " said the old man in a tone of the bitterest reproach. "And since when have we declined to admit Herr Berger ? " " Has he been here } " "Yes, on most important business, and would not believe that we ourselves had ordered him to be turned away. And now we are eating nothing," he continued vehemently, as Sendlingen pushed his plate from him and rose. "My Lord, what does this mean! VVe look as if we had seen a ghost ! " "No, only an old grumbler ! " He intended this for an airy pleasantry but with poor success. "Do not be too angry with me." Then he returned to his chambers. "The old fellow is right," he thought, "it was a ghost, a very ancient ghost, and its name is Nemesis ! " His eyes fell on the large calendar on the door : " 7th November, 1852," he read aloud. "A day like every other — and yet . . " Then he passed his hand over his brow as if trying to recall who he was, and rang the bell. "Get me," he said to the clerk who entered, " from •:»'T'K:'!^i^A'^*t.i^' 24 THE CHIEF-JUSriCE. I!' I Ij : I the Criminal department, the documents relating to the next three trials/' He stepped to the window and awaited the clerk's return with apparent calm. He had not long to wait ; the clerk entered and laid two goodly bundles of papers on the tcible. "I have to inform you, my lord," said the clerk standing at attention (he had been a soldier), "that only the papers relating to the trials of the 9th and loth November are in the Court-house. Those for to- morrow's trial of Victorine Lippert for child-murder are still in the hands of Counsel for the accused, Dr. George Berger. " Sendlingen started. "Did the accused choose her Counsel i " "No, my lord, she indeed refused any defence be- cause she is, so to speak, a poor despairing creature that would prefer to die. Herr von Werner therefore ex-officio allotted her Dr. Kraushoffer as Counsel, and, when he became ill. Dr. Berger." Dr. Kraushoffer was only taken ill the day before yesterday and therefore Dr. Berger has been allowed to keep the papers till to-morrow morning early. Does your lordship desire that I should ask him for them ? " "No. That will do." He went back to the niche by the window. " A poor creature that would prefer to die I " he said slowly and gloomily. Frightful images thronged into his mind, THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 25 but the poor worn brain could no longer grasp any clear idea. He began to pace up and down his room rapidly, almost staggering as he went. " Night ! night ! " he groaned : he felt as if he were wandering aimlessly in pitchy darkness, while every pulsation of lost time might involve the sacriiiceofa human life. Then his face brightened again, it seemed a good omen that Berger was defending the girl : he knew his friend to be the most conscientious barrister on the circuit. "And if I were to tell him fully what she is to me ! " — But he left the sentence unfinished and shook his head. *' I could not get the words out," he murmured look- ing round with a scared expression, "not even to him ! " "And why should I .i* " he then thought. " Berger will in any case from his own love of justice do all that is in his power." But what result was to be expected .' The old judges, unaccustomed to speeches, regarded the concluding ])roceedings rather as a formality, and decided on their verdict from the documents, whatever ("ounsel might say. It depended entirely on their opinion, and what Werner thought of the crime he had explained a few hours ago ! And ev^en if before that he had been of another opinion, now that he knew the opinion of the Minister of Justice. " Fool that I am,"said Sendlingen between his teeth, " it was I who told him ! " Again ■:H'i!!itr?U;1t!5i|TO«PSl^ 26 THE CIIIEF-JUST/CE. ■it 1 ! he looked half-maddened by his anguish and wandered about the room, wringing his hands. Suddenly he stopped. His face grew more livid, his brows contracted in a dark frown, his lips were tightly pressed together. A new idea must have occurred to him, a dark uncanny inspiration, against which he was struggling but which "returned again and again and took possession of him. "That would be salvation," he muttered. " If to-moi row's sentence is only for a short term of imprisonment, the higher court would never increase it to a sentence of death ! " He paced slowly to the window, his head bowed, as if the weight of that tiiought lay upon his neck like a material burden, and stared out into the street. The early shades of the autumn evening were falling ; on the other side of a window in a building opposite, a young woman entered with a lamp for her husband. She placed it on his work-table, and lightly touched his hair with her lips. Sendlingcn saw it plainly, he could distinguish every piece of furniture in the room and also the features of the couple, and, as he knew them, he involuntarily whispered their names. But his brain unceasingly continued to spin that dark web, and at times his thoughts escaped him in a low whisper. "What is there to prevent me .-' Nobody knows my relationship to her, and she herself does not guess it. I am entitled to do it, and it would arouse no suspi- cions. Certainly it wv)uld be diflicult, it would be THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 27 a horrible time, but how much lies at my door ? " ''Wretch ! " he suddenly cried, in a hard, hoarse voice. "The world does not know your relationship, but you know it! What you intend is a crime, it is against justice and law ! " "Oh, my God!" he groaned: "Help me! En- lighten my poor brain ! Would it not be the lesser crime if I were to save her by d^'shonourable means than if I were to stand by with folded arms and see her delivered to the hangman ! Can this be against Thy will, Thou who art a God of love and mercy ? Can my honour be more sacred than her life? " He sank back and buried his face in his hands. "But it does not concern my honour alone," he said. " It would be a crime against Justice, against the most sacred thing on earth ! O my God, have mercy upon mel" While he lay there in the dark, irresolute, his body a prey to fever, his soul torn by worse paroxysms, he heard first 3f all a gentle, then a louder knocking at the door. At length it was opened. "My lord!" said a loud voice: it was Herr von Werner. ^ "Here I am," quickly answered Sendlingen rising. " In the dark .'* " asked oUl Werner with astonishment. "I thought jxThaps you had forgotten the appointnient — it is five o'clock and the members of the Committee "1' ,!i»!^rT!l«x;a5lp)-..-^ ■ I 28 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. of Discipline are waiting for us . . Has your indis- position perhaps returned ? " "No ! I was merely sitting in deep thought and for- got to light the candles. Come, I am quite ready." "Will you allow me a question.''" asked Werner, stepping forward as far as the light which streamed in from the corridor. "In fact, it is a request. The clerk told me that you had been asking to see the doc- uments relating to to-morrow's trial. Would you perhaps like to preside at it } '" Sendlingen did not answer at once. "I am not posted up in the matter," he at length said with uncertain voice. "The case is very simple, and a glance at the deed of accusation would sufficiently inform you. In fact I took the liberty of asking this question in order to have the documents fetched at once from Herr Berger. I myself — hm, my daughter, the wife of the Finance Counsellor, is in fact expecting, as I just learn, to-mor- row for the ilrst time — hm, the advent of a happy event. It is natural that I should'none the less be at the dis- posal of the Court, but — hm, trusting to your official good-nature — "^ Sendlingen had supported himself firmly against the back of the chair. His pulses leapt and his voice trem- bled as he answered : "I will take the case." Then they both started for the Court. When they TIIR CHIEF-JUSTICE. 29 came out into the full light of the corridor, Werner looketl anxiously at his chief. " Hut indeed you are still very white ! " he cried. " And your face lias quite a strange expression. You appear to be seriously unwell, and I have just asked you — " " It is nothing! " interrupted Sendlingen impatiently. "Whom does our present transactii)n relate to.''" "You will be sorry to hear of it," was the answer. "I know that you too had the best opinion of the young man. It relates to Ilerbich, an assistant at the Board of Trade office : he has unfortunately been guilty of a gross misuse of his ofticial position." "Oh — in what way } " " Money matters," answered Werner cursorily, and he beckoned to a messenjjcr and sent him to Berber's. They then entered the Court where the three eldest Judges were already waiting for them. The Chief-Jus- tice opened the sitting and called for a report of the case to be read. It was different from what one would have expected from Werners intimation. Herbich had not become a criminal through greed of gain. His mother, an old widow, had, on his advice, lent her slender fortune, which was 10 have served as her only daughter's dowry, to a friend t ' his, a young merchant of excel- lent reputation. Without any one suspecting it, this honourable man had, through necessity, gradually be- come bankrupt, and when Herbich one morning ^rTt^sejs!!!.' 3^ THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. entered his office at the Board of Trade, he found the manager of a factory there who, to his fearful alarm, demanded a decree summoning a meeting of his friend's creditors. Instead of fulfilling this in accord- ance with the duties of his office, he hurried to the merchant and induced him by piteous prayers to re- turn the loan on the spot. Not till then did he go back to the office and draw up the necessary document. By the inquiries of other creditors whose fraction in the pound had been diminished by this, the matter came to light. Herbich was suspended, though left at liberty. There was no permanent loss to the creditors as the sister had in the meantime returned the whole of the amount to the administrator of the estate. The report recommended that the full severity of the law should take eff'ect, and that the young man should not only be deprived of his position, but should forthwith be handed over to justice. Sendlingen had listened to the lengthy report motion- less. Only once had he risen to arrange the lamp- shade so that his face remained in complete shadow. Then he asked whether the committee would examine the accused. It was in no way bound to do so, though entitled to it, and therefore Herbich had been instructed to hold himself in waiting at the Court at the hour of the inquiry. The conductor of the inquiry was opposed to any ex- amination. Not so Baron Dernegg, one of the judges, -'*'=*y,j^„ THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 3J a comfortable-looking man, with a broad, kindly face. It seemed to him, he explained, that the examination was a necessity, as in this way alone could the motives of the act be brought fully to light. The committee was equally divided on the subject : the casting vote therefore lay with Sendlingen. He hesitated a long while, but at length said with a choking voice: "It seems to me, too, that it would be humane and just to hear the unfortunate man." Herbich entered. His white, grief-worn face flushed crimson as he saw the judges, and his gait was so un- steady that Baron Dernegg compassionately motioned him to sit down. The trembling wretch supported himself on the back of a chair as h'' began laboriously, and almost stuttcringly, to reply to the Chief-Justice's question what he had to say in his defence. He told of his intimate friendship with the merchant, and how it was entirely his own doing that the loan had been made. When he came to speak of his offence his voice failed him, until at length he blurted out almost sobbing: "No words can express how I felt then ! . . My sister had recently been betrothed to an officer. The money was to have served as the war- office guarantee ; if it was lost the wedding could not take place, and the life's happiness of the poor girl would have been destroyed. I did not think of the criminality of what I was doing. I only followed the voice of my heart wdiich cried out : 'Your sister must lOUl 32 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE, not be made unhappy through your fault ! ' My friend's resistance first made me conscious of what I had begun to do ! I sought to reassure him and myself by sophisms, pointing out how insignificant the sum was compared with his other debts, and that any other creditor would have taken advantage of making the discovery at the last moment. I seemed to have convinced him, but, as for myself, I went away with the consciousness of being a criminal." He stopped, but as he continued his voice grew stronger and more composed, "A criminal certainly ! But my conscience tells me that of two crimes I chose the lesser. But to no pur- pose : the thing came out ; my sister sacrificed her money and her happiness. I look upon my act now as I did then. Happy is the man who is spared a conflict between two duties, whose heart is not rent, nor his honour destroyed, as mine has been ; but if he were visited as I was, he would act as I acted, if he were a man at all ! And now I await your verdict, for what I have left to say, namely what I once was, you know as well as I do ! " • A deep silence followed these words. It was for Sendlingen to break it either by another question, or by dismissing the accused. He, however, was staring silently into space like one lost to his surroundings. At length he murmured : " You may go," The discussion among the judges then began and was THE CIIIEFJUSTICE. II hotly carried on, as two opposite views were sharply outlined. Baron Dernegg and the fourth judge were in favor of simple dismissal without any further punish- ment, while the promoter supported by Werner was in favor of his original proposition. The matter had become generally known, he contended, and therefore the dignity of Justice demanded a conspicuous satisfac- tion for the outraged law. The decision again rested with Sendlingen, but it seemed difficult to him to pronounce it. "It is desir- able, gentlemen," he said, "that your verdict should be unanimous. Perhaps you will agree more easily in an informal discussion. I raise the formal sitting for a few minutes." He himself, however, took no part in their discus- sion, but stepped to the window. He pressed his burning forehead against the cool glass ; his face again bore the expression of torturing uncertainty. But grad- ually his features grew composed, and assumed a look of quiet resolve. When Werner approached and informed him that both parties still adhered obstinately to their own opinion, he stepped back to the table, and said in a loud, calm voice : " I cast my vote for the opinion of Baron Dernegg. The dignity of Justice does not, in my opinion, require to be vindicated only by excessive severity ; dismissal from office and ruin for life are surely sufficient punish- ment for a fatal error. " 8 34 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. Werner, in spite of his boundless respect for supe- riors, could not suppress a movement of surprise. Sendlingen noticed it. "An error!"' he repeated emphatically. " Whoever can put himself in the place of this unfortunate man, whoever can comprehend the struggles of his soul, must see, that according to his own ideas, he had indeed to choose between two crimes. His error was to consider that the lesser crime which in reality waj- the greater. . . I have never been a blind partisan of the maxim : ' Fiat justicia et pereat mundus,' — but I certainly do consider it a sacred thing that every judge should act according to law and duty, even if he should break his heart in doing so ! However, I repeat, it was an error, and therefore it seems to me that the milder of the two opinions enjoins a sufficient atonement." Then he went up to Werner. " Forgive me/' he said, " if I withdraw my promise in regard to to-mor- row's trial. I am really not well enough to preside." " Oh ! please — hm ! if it must be so." " It must be so," said Sendlingen, kindly but reso- lutely. "Good-evening, gentlemen." THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 35 CHAPTER III. Sendlixgen went to his own quarters : his old man- servant let him in and followed him with anxious looks into his study. " You may go, Franz! " he said shortly and vSharply. " I am not at home to anybody." " And should Dr. Bergcr? " " Berger .? " He shook his head decidedly. Then he seemed to remember some one else. " I will see him," he said, drawing a deep breath. The old man went on hesitatingly : Sendlingen was alone. But after a few minutes the voice of his friend was audible in the lobby, and Berger entered with a formidable bundle of documents under his arm. "Well, how goes it now?" cried the portly man, still standing in the doorway. " Better, certainly, as you are going to preside to-morrow. Here are the papers. " He laid .le bundle on the table, and grasped Send- lingen's outstretched hand. " A mill-stone was rolled from my neck when the messenger came. In the first place, I knew you were better again ; and, secondly, the 1 >{j -■•■^x^>r- 36 /y/A- CHIEF-JUSTICE. chief object of my visit at noon to-day was attained without my own intervention." " Did you come on that account ? " " Yes, Victor, — and not merely to call on you." The advocate's broad, open face j^rew very serious. "I wanted to draw your attention to to-morrow's trial, not only from motives of pity for the unfortunate <;irl, but also in the interests of justice. Old Werner, who gets more and more impressed with the idea that he is com- batting the Revolution in every case of child-murder, is not the right judge for this girl. 'There arc cases,' once wrote an authority on criminal law, 'where a sentence of death accords with the letter of the law, but almost amounts to judicial murder.' I hope you will let this authority weigh with you, though you yourself are he. Now then, if Werner is put in a position to-morrow to carry out the practice to which he has accustomed himself in the last few weeks, we shall have one of these frightful cases." Sendlingen nir.de no reply. His limbs seemed to grow rigid, r'tui the beating of his heart threatened to stop. "How — how docs the case stand?" he at length blurted out hoarsely and with great effort. "Your voice is hoarse," remarked Berger innocently. "You must have caught cold on the journey. Well, as to the case." He settled himself comfortably in his chair. "It is only one of the asual sad stories, but it moved THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 37 me profoundly after I had seen and spoken to tnc poor wretch. Victorinc Lippert is herself an illei^itimate child, and has never t\)und out who her lather was, — even after her mother's death no hint of it was found amonff her possessions. As she was born in Radautz, a small town in Bukowina, and as her mother was governess in the house of a Boyar, it is probable that she was seduced by one of these half-savages, or perhaps was even a victim to violence. I incline to the latter belief, because Hermine Lippert's subsequent mode of life and touch- ing care for her child are against the surmise that she was of thoughtless disposition. She settled in a small town in Styria and made a scanty living by music lessons. Forced by necessity she hazarded the pious fraud of passing as a widow, — otherwise she and her child must have starved. After eight years a mere chance disclosed the deception and put an end to her life in the town. She was obliged to leave, but obtained a situation as companion to a kind-hearted lady in Buda-Pesth, and being now no longer able to keep her little daughter with her, she had her brought up at a school in Gratz. Mother and child now saw one another only once a year, but kept up a most affectionate cor- respondence. Victorine was diligent in her studies, grave and accomplished beyond her years, and justi- fied the hope that she would one day earn a livelihood by her abilities. This sad necessity came soon enough. She lost her mother when she was barely fifteen : the y t-^Jsr^T"' 38 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. Hungarian lady paid her school fees for a short time, and then the orphan had to help herself. Her excellent testimonials procured her the post of governess in the family of the widowed Countess Riesner-Graskowitz at Graskowitz near Golotz. She had the charge of two small nieces of the Countess, and was patient in her duties, m spite of the hardness of this harsh and utterly avaricious woman. In June of last year, her only son, Count Henry, came home for a lengthy visit." Sendlingen sighed deeply and raised his hand. "You divine the rest.''" asked lierger. "And in- deed it is not difficult to do so ! The young man had just concluded his initiation into the diplomatic service at our Embassy in Paris, and was to have gone to Munich in September as attache. Naturally he felt bored in the lonely castle, and just as naturally he sought to dispel his boredom by trying to seduce the wondrously beautiful girlish governess. He heaped upon her letters full of glowing protestations — I mean to read some specimens to-morrow, and amongst them a valid promise of marriage — and the girl of seventeen was easily fooled. She liked the handsome, well- dressed fellow, believed in his love as a divine revelation, and trusted in his oaths. You will spare me details, I fancy ; this sort of thing has often happened." "Often happened!" repeated Sendlingen mechani- cally, passing his hand over his eyes and forehead. "Well, to be brief! When the noble Count Henry THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 39 saw that the girl was goinj^ to become a mother before she herself had any suspicio'^ of it, he determined to entirely avoid any unpleasantness with his formidable mother, and had himself sent to St. Petersburg. Mean- time, a good-natured servant-girl had explained her condition to the poor wretch, and had faithfully com- forted her in her boundless anguish of mind and helped her to avoid discovery. Her piteous prayers to her lover remained unanswered. At length there came a letter — and this too, I shall read to-morrow — in which the scoundrel forbade any further molestation, and even threatened the law. And now picture the girl's despair when, almost at the same time, the Countess discovered her secret, — whether by chance or by a letter of the brave Count, is still uncertain Assuredly less from moral indignation, than from fear of the expense, this noble lady was now guilty of the shocking brutality of having the poor creature driven out into the nigh+ b' tue men-servants of the house ! It was a dark, v^old. \\ et night in April: shaken with fever and w« ;i ; to death, the poor wretch dragged hesclf to- ward:. th3 nearest village. Sh*^ did not reach it ; half- way, n a w\)od, some peasants irom Graskowitz found her the next morning, unconscious. Beside her lay her dead, her murdered, chiUl." Sendlingcn groaned and buriixl his face in his hands. "Her fate ,;no^":•^. you? ' asked Berger. 'It is certainly piteov- vnu),;gh ! The men brought her to If n r.«»*«i«iijgT»»'iTr*;v:f. 40 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. the village and informed the police at Golotz. The Coroner's inquiry took place the next day. It could only establish that the child had been strangled ; it was impossible to take the depositions of the mur- deress : she was in the v/ildest delirium, and the prison doctor expected her to die. But Fate, " Merger rose and his voice trembled — "Fate was not so merciful. She recovered and was sent first to Golotz and then brought here. She admitted, that in the solitude of that dre.'i.l- ful night, overcome by 1 't pains, and forsaken of ' iod and man, she form.ed tb • reso' '^ to kill herself and thv.; child — when and how sl\e did the deed she could not say. I am persuaded that this is no lie, and I believe her affirmation that it was only unconsciousness that pre- vented her suicide. Doesn't that appear probable to you too } " Sendlingen did not answer. "Probable," he at length muttered, " highly probable ! " Berger nodded. "Thus much,' he continued, "is recorded in the judicial documents, and as all this is certainly enough to arouse sympathy, I went to see her as soon as the defence was allotted to me. Since that I have learnt niore. I have lenrnt that a true and noble nature has been wrecked by the baseness of man. She must have been not only faseinaiingly beautiful, but a character of imusual depth and purity. One can still see it, just as f.agments of china enable us to guess the former beauty of a work of art. For this I _? V ^M I n< p] m C( P^ mrn^ ■'"^B^miv t THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 41 I! vessel is broken to atoms, and her one prayer to me was : not to hinder the sentence of death ! . . But I cannot grant t'.iis ])rayer," he conchided. "She must not die, were it only for Justice "s sake ! And a load is taken off my heart to think that a human being is to preside at the trial to-morrow, and not a rhetoric machine ! " He had spoken with increasing warmth and with a conviction of spirit which this quiet and, indeed, tem- perate, man seldom ev'inced. His own emotion prevented him from noticing- how peculiar was his friend's demeanour. Sendlingen sat there for a while motionless, his face still covered by his hands, and when he at length let them fall, he bowed his head so low that his forehead rested on the edge of the v/riting-table. In this position he at last blurted forth : "I cannot preside to-morrow." " Why not ?" asked Berger in astonishment. "Are you really ill .? " And as he gently raised his friend's '.ead and looked into his worn face he cried out anx- iously : "Why of course — you are in a fever." Sendlingen shook his head. "I am (juite well, George! But even if it cost me my life, 1 woukl not handover this girl to the tender mercies of others, if only I dared. But I dare not ! " "You dare, not ! " " The law forbids it ! " ;■■. ' 11 .,i-.kb-)':i:?-.5{^gf^' IT' 42 THE CHIEF-JUSriCE. "The law? You are raving ! " "No! no!'' cried the unhappy man, springing up. "I would that 1 were either mad or dead, but such is not my good fortune ! The law forbids it, for a father — " "Victor!" • * Everything tallies, everything ! The mother's name — tl place — the year of birth — and her name is Victo- rine "Oh ■ God ! She is your—" "My daughter," cried the unfortunate wretch in piercing tones, and then quite broke down. Berger stood still for an instant as if paralyzed by pity and amazement ! Then he hurried to his friend, raised him and placed him in his arm-chair. "Keep calm ! " he murmured. " Oh I it is frightful ! . . Take courage ! . . The poor child ! " He was himself as if crushed by the weight of this terrible discovery. Breathing heavily, Scndlingen lay there, his breast heaving convulsively, then he began to sob gently ; far more piteously than words or tears did these despairing, painfully subdued groans betray how exceedingly he suffered. Berger stood before him helplessly ; he could think of no fitting words of comfort, and he knew that whatever he could say would be said in vain. The door was suddenly opened loudly and noisily ; old Franz had heard the bitter lamenting and could no longer rest in the lobby. " My lord ! " he screamed, THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 43 darting to the sufferer, "■My dear, good master." "Begone!" Sendlingen raised himself hastily. "Go, Franz — I beg ! " he repeated more gently. But Franz did not budge. "We are iji pain," he mut- tered, "and Fraulein Brigiita may not come in, and I am sent away ! What else is Franz in the world for? " He did not go until Berger, by entreaties and gentle force, pushed him out of the door. Sendlingen nodtled gratefully to his friend. "Sit here," he said, pointing to a chair near his own. "Closer still — so ! You must know all, if only for her sake I You shall have no shred of doubt as to whom you are defending to-morrow, and perhaps you may discover the expedient for which I have racked my brains in vain. And indeed I desire it on my own ac- count. Since the moment 1 discovered it, I feel as if I had lost everything. Everything — even myself ! You are one of the most upright men I know ; you shall judge me, George, and in the same way that you will defend this poor girl, with your noble heart and clear head. Perhaps you will decide that some other course is open to me beside — " He stopped and cast a timid glance at a ^mall neat case that lay on his writing-table. Berger knew that it contained a revolver. " Victor !" he cried angrily and almost revolted. "Oh, if you knew what I suffer ! But you are right, it would be contemptible. I dare not think of myself. ,: i I i i I i ^ 44 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. I flare not slink out of the world. I have a duty to my child. I have neglected it long enough, — I must hold on now, and pay my debt. Ah ! how 1 felt only this morning, and now everything lies around me shivered to atoms. Forgive me, my poor brain can still form no clear thought ! But — I will — I must. Listen, I will tell you, as if you were the Eternal Judge Himself, how everything came about." THE CJIIEl'-JUSTICE. 45 CIIArTKR IV. After a pause he began : "I must first of all speak of myself, and what I was like in those days. You have only known me for ten years ; of my parents, of my childhood, you know scarcely anything. Mine was a frightful childhood, more full of venom and misery than a man can often have been condemned to endure. My parents' marriage — it was hell upon earth, George ! In our profession we get to know many fearful things, but I have hardly since come across anything like it. How they came to be married, you know, — all the world knows. I am convinced that they never loved one another ; her beauty pleased his senses and his con- descension may have flattered her. No matter ! from the moment that they were indissolubly bound, they hated one another, as man can only hate the cause of his ruin. It is difficult to decide with whom the fault began ; perhaps it lay first of all at my father's door. Perhaps the common, low-born woman would have been grateful to him for having made her a Baroness and raised her to a higher rank in life, if only he had vouchsafed her a little patience and love. But he could it! I A\ 46 THE CHIEF-JUS r/CE, i'i' not do that, he hated her as the cause of his misfortune, and she repaid him tenfold in insult and abuse, and in holding- him up, humbled enough already, to the deri- sion and gossip of the little town. "Betwixt these two people I grew up., I slu^uld have soon got to know the terms they were on, even if they had anxiously striven to conceal them ; but that they did not do. Or rather, he attempted to do so, and that was (juitc sufficient reason for her to drag me design- edly into their (juarrcls, for she knew that this was a weapon wherewith to wound him deeply. And when she saw that he idohzed me as any poor wretch does the last li^pc and joy that fat.e has left him, she hated me. On that account, and on that account alone, she knew that every scolding, every blow, she gave me, cut him to the quick. No wonder that I hated and feared her, as much a:^ I loved and honoured my father. "What he had done I already accurately knew by the time I was a boy of six : he had married out of his rank, and a Scndlingen might not do that ! For doing so his lather had disowneil him, for doing so he had to go through life in trouble and misery, in a paltry hole and corner where the people mocked at his misfortune. My mother was our curse ! — Oh, how I hated her for this, how by every Iresh ill-usage at her hands, my heart was more and more tilled with bitter rancour. " You shudder, Oorge ? " he said, stopping in his story. " this glimpse into a child's soul makes you tremble? THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 47 \Vell — it is the truth, and you shall hear everything that happened. " If I did not become wicked, I have to thank my father for it. I was diligent because it gave him pleasure. I was kind and attentive to people because he commanded it. He was often ill ; what would have become of me if I had lost him then and grown up under my mother's scourge, I dare not think. I was spared this greatest evil ; his protecting hand continued to be stretched out over me and when we moved to Klagenfurth, he began to live again. The intercourse with edu- cated people revived him, and he was once more full of hope and endeavour. My mother now began to be ill, and a few months after our arrival she died. We neither of us rejoiced at her death, but what we felt as we stood by her open coffin was a sort of silent horror. " And now came more happy days, but they did not last long. Mental torture had destroyed my father's vitality, and the rough mountain-climate had injured his lungs. The mild air of the plain seemed to restore him for a time, but then the treacherous disease broke out in all its virulence. He did not deceive himself about his condition, but he tried to l ifirm me in hope and succeeded in doing so. When, after a melancholy winter, in the first days of sj)ring. his cough was easier and his cheeks took color, I, like a thoughtless boy, ■5 i ill ii 1 ■ ^■- 1 ■;■ •■ ',h. ■ 1 t^H •^;-^-jrfteM.f 48 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. I i I i shouted for joy — he however knew that it was the bloom of death. "And he acted accordingly. One May morning — I had just completed my fourteenth year — he came to my bedside very early and told me to dress myself with all speed. ' We are going for an excursion,' he said. There was a carriage at the door. We drove through the slumbering town and towards the Worther See. It was a lovely morning and my father was so affection- ate — it seemed to me the happiest hour I had ever had ! When we got to INIaria Worth, the carriage turned off from the lakeside and we proceeded towards the Tauer Mountains through a rocky valley, until we stopped at the foot of a hill crowned with a ruin. Slowly we climbed up the weed-grown path ; every step cost the poor invalid effort and pain, but when I tried to dis- suade him he only shook his head. * It must be so I ' he said with a peculiarly earnest look ! At length we reached the top. Of the old building, little remained standing except the outer walls and an arched gateway. 'Look up yonder,' he said solemnly. 'Do you rec- ognize that coat of arms ? ' It consisted of two swords and a St. Andrew's cross with stars in the field.'' *' Your arms .'' " asked Berger. Sendlingen nodded. " They were the ruins of Sendlingen Castle, once our chief possession on Aus- trian soil. jVIy father told me this ;ind began to recount old stories, how our ancestor was a cousin of Kaiser THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 49 Conrad, and had been a potentate of the Empire, hold- ing lands in Franconia and Suabia, and how his grand- son, a friend of one of the Ilapsburgs, had come to Corinthia, and there won fresh glory for the old arms. It was a beautiful and affecting moment, — at our feet the wild, lonely landscape, dreamily beautiful in the blue atmosphere of a spring day, no sound around us save the gentle murmur of the wind in the wild elder- trees, and with all this the tones of his earnest enthu- siastic voice. My father had never before spoken as he did then, and while he spoke, there rose before my eyes with palpable clearness the long line of honourable nobles who had all gloriously borne first the sword and then the ermine, and the more familiar their age and their names became, the higher beat my heart, the prouder were my thoughts, and every thought was a vow to follow in their footsteps. ' ' My father may have guessed what was passing in my heart, he drew me tenderly to him, and as he told me of his own father, the first judge and nobleman of the land, tears started from his eyes. ' He was the last Sendlingen worthy of the name,' he co.-i ded, 'the last ! ' " * Father,' I sobbed, ' whatever I can and may do will be done, but you too will now have a better fate.' *I!' he broke in, 'I have lived miserably and shall die miserably ! But I will not complain of my fate, if it serves as a warning to you. Listen to me, Victor, 4 M 'acJ(»}«HF 50 THE CHlEF-JUSTrCE. i i ! 1;: '1. my life may be reckoned by weeks, perhaps hy days, but if I know my cousins aright, they will not let you stand alone after my death. They will not forg lat you are a Sendlingen, so long as you don't forget it yourself. And in order that you may continue mind- ful of it, I have brought you hither before I die ! Un- happy children mature early ; you have been in spite of all my love, a very unhappy child, Victor, and you have long since known exactly why my life went to pieces. Swear to me to keep this in mind and that you will be strict and honourable in your conduct, as a Sendhngen is in duty bound to be.' 'I swear ■^' I exclaimed, amid my tears 'One thing moi he continued, * I must tell you, although you are still a boy, but I have short time to stay, and better now than not at all ! It is with regard to women. You will resist my temptations, I am sure. But if you meet a woman, who is noble and good, but yet not of your own rank, and if your heart is drawn to her, imperiously, irresist- ibly, so that it seems as if it would burst and break within your breast unle^jS you win her, then fly from her, for no blessing can come of it, but only curses for you both. Curses and remorse, Victor — believe your father who knows the world as it is. Swear to me that you will never marry out of your rank ! ' 'I swear it I ' I repeated. 'Well and good,' he said solemnly. ' Now I have fulfilled my duty and am ready, let us go, Victor.' THE cm El' -J I \s ncE. 51 ! 1 " He was goin IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 132 12.5 It 122 M 1.8 U ill 1.6 V.

^ S^ ^v^ # ip (v \\ M O^ % '9. V* % Q- w. h 92 THE CHIEF-JUSriCE. 'I r I "Certainly," muttered Berger as he walked into the study. Sendlingeii lay back in his arm-chair, both hands pressed to his face. His friend approached him with- out a word ; it was a long, sad silence. "Victor," he said at last, gently touching his shoulder, "we knew it would be so ! " Sendlingen let his hands fall. "And does that com- fort me. -*" he cried wildly. And tiien he bowed his head still lower. "Tell me all ! " he murmured. Berger then began to narrate everything. One thing only he omitted : how Victorine had spoken of her mother's betrayer. "This very day," he concluded, "I shall lodge a nullity appeal with the Supreme Court. Perhaps it will consider the reasons weighty enough to order a new trial, in any case when it examines the question, it will alter the sentence." "In any case.'' " cried Sendlingen bitterly. "We cannot but expect as much from our highest judges' sense of justice. Perhaps the chief witness' suspicious weakness of memory may prove a lucky thing for us. If she hatl stuck by her former deposi- tions, or if the Court had not put her on her oath, then a simple appeal to a higher court would alone have been possible. Now the case is more striking and more sensational." "And therefore all the worse!" interrupted Send- lingen. ' ' Woe to him for whom in these days the THE c 'in i: I- J I :v m '/■: 93 voice of the people makes itself heanl ; to the gentry in Vie nna it is \v orsc than the voice of the devil. Besides, just now, according to the ojiinion of the Minister of Justice, the world is to be riil of child- murder by the oiHces of the hangman ! And this is the first case in educated circles, a much talked of case, — what a magniticent opportunity of striking terror I " "You take too black a view of the matter, Victor." "Perhaps ! — and therefore an unjust view! But how can a man in my position be just and reasonable. O George, 1 am so desolate and perplexed ! What shall I do; merciful Heaven, what shall I do? " " First of all-wait ! " answered Berger. "The decision of the Supreme Court will be known in a comparatively short time, at latest in two months ! " "Wait — only two months!" Sendlingen wrung his hands. " Though what do I care for myself ! But she — two months in the fear of death ! To sit thus in a lonely cell without light or air, or consolation, behind her unutterable misery, before her death. O, she must either go mad or die I " "I shall often be with her. and Father Rohn, too, I hope. And then, too," he added half-heartedly, "one or other of the ladies of the Women's Society for Be- friending Female Criminals. Certainly these comforters are not worth much. " "They are worth nothing," cried Sendlingen vehe- •„;:| y\ 94 THE CHfEF-JUSTICE. menlly. "Oh, how they will torture the poor girl with their unctuous virtue and self-satisfied piety ! I have to tolerate these tormentors, the Minister of Jus- tice insists on it, but at least they shall not enter this cell, I will not allow it — or at least only the single one among them who is any good, my old Brigitta — " "Your housekeeper?" asked Berger in perplexity and consternation. "That must not be! She might guess the truth. The girl, he hesitated again — is like you, very like you, Victor — and any one who sees you as often and knows you as well as Brigitta — " " What does that matter } " Sendlingen rose, " She is discreet, and if she were not — what does it matter, I repeat. Do you suppose that I never mean to enter that cell ? " "You! Impossible!" " I shall and I must ! I will humour you in every- thing except in this one thing I " "But under what pretext? Have you ever visited, and repeatedly visited, other condemned criminals ? " " What does that matter to me ? A father must stand by his child ! " " And will you tell other people so ? " "Not until I am obliged, but then without a moment's hesitation. She, however, must be told at once, in fact this very day." "You must not do that, Victor. Spare the poor girl ; this sudden revelation. . ." in ri; THE C/f/EF JUSTICE. 95 "Then prepare her beforehand 1 But to-morrow it must be ! " Berger was helpless ; he knew what Victorine would say to her father if she suddenly encountered him. " Give her a little more time ! " he begged. "Out of pity for her shattered nerves and agitated mind which will not bear any immediate shock. " This was a request that Sendlingen could not refuse. "Very well, I will wait," he promised. "But you will not wish to prevent me seeing her to-morrow. I have in any case to inspect the prison. But I promise you, I will not betray myself, and the governor of the jail shall accompany me." I I. 96 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE, CHAPTER VI. ill Weighed down by sorrow, Berger proceeded home- wards. To the solitary bachelor Sendlingcn was more than a friend, he was a dearly-loved brother. He was struck to the heart, as by a personal alfliction, with compassion for this fate, this terrible fate, so sud- denly and destructively breaking in upon a beneficent life like a desolating flood. Would this flood ever subside again and the soil bring forth flowers and fruit ? The strong man's looks darkened as he thought of the future ; worse than the evil itself seemed to him the manner in which it af- fected his friend. Alas ! how changed and desolated was this splendid soul, how hopeless and helpless this brave heart ! And it was just their last interview, that sudden flight from the most melancholy helplessness to the heights of an almost heroic resolve, that gave Berger the greatest uneasiness. " And it will not last ! " he reflected with much con- cern. "Most certainly it will not! Perhaps even now, five minutes after, he is again lying back in his arm-chair, broken down, without another thought, an- other feeling:, save that of his misery ! And could any- ll :i: THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 97 thing else be expected ? That was not the energetic resolve of a clear, courageous soul, but the diseased, visionary effort of feverishly excited nerves ! Again, he does not know whether he will see her or what he ought to do . . And do I know, would any one know, in the presence of such a fate ? " Had he deserved this fate ? "No ! " cried Bergerto himself. ** No ! " he passion- ately repeated as he paced up and down his study, trying to frame the wording of the appeal. Clumsy and uncouth, blind and cruel, seemed to him the power that had so ordered things as they had come about, no better than some rude elemental force. "He can no more help it," he muttered, " than the fields can help a flood breaking in upon them." But he could not long maintain this view, comforting as it was to him, much as he strove to harbour it. " He has done wrong, " he thought, ' * and the longer retribu- tion has delayed hec coming, the severer is her present visitation." Other cases in his experience occurred to him : long concealed wrongs and sins that had after- wards come into the light of day doubly frightful. "And such offences increase by the interest accruing until they are paid," he was obliged to think. From the moment that he heard his friend's story, all the facts it brought to light seemed to him like the diabolical sport of chance; but now he no longer thought it chance, but in everything saw necessity, and he was 7 ( i .1 98 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. overcome by the same idea to which he had given voice at the conclusion of his friend's narration, namely, that this was no mere sad fate, but a thoroughly tragic one. It was a singular idea, compounded of fear and rev- erence. When Berger reflected how one act dovetailed into another, how link fitted into link in the chain of cause and effect, how all these people could not have acted otherwise than they were obliged to act, how guilt had of necessity supervened, and now retribution, — then the strongman shuddered from head to foot; he had to bow his head before that pitiless, all-just Power for which he knew no name. . . But was it really all- just? If all these people, if Sendlingen and Victorine had not acted otherwise than their nature and circum- stances commanded, why had they to suffer for it so frightfully.'' And why was there no end to this suffer- ing, a great, a liberating, a redeeming end } "No ! " cried an inward voice of his deeply-agitated soul, " there must be such a glorious solution. It can- not be our destiny to be dragged into sin by blind pow- ers which we cannot in any way control like puppets by the cords in a showman's hands, and tlien again, when it pleases those powers, into still greater sins, or into an atonement a thousand times greater than the sin itself, and so, on and on, until death snaps the cords. . . No ! that cannot be our destiny, and if it were, then we should be greater than this Fate, greater. THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 99 Juster, more reasonable ! There must be in Send- lingen's case also, a solution bringing freedom, there must — and in his case precisely most of all ! It would have been an extraordinary fate, no matter whom it had overtaken, but had it befallen a commonplace man, it would never have grown to such a crushing tragedy. A scoundrel would have lied to himself : "She is not my daughter ; her mother was a woman of loose char- acter," and he would have repeated this so often that he would have come to believe it. And if remorse had eventually supervened, he would have buried it in the confessional or in the bottle. Again another man, no scoundrel, — on the contrary, a man of honour of the sort whose name is Legion, would not have hesitated for a moment to preside in court in order to obtain by his authority as Chief-Justice the mildest possible sentence. Then he would have been assiduous in ameliorating the lot of the prisoner by special privileges, and after she had been set at liberty, he would have bought her, somewhere at a distance, a little millinery business or a husband, and every time he thought of the matter, he would have said with emotion : "What a good fellow you are ! '' This has only become a tragic fate because it has struck one of the most upright, most sensitive and noble of men, and because this is so, there must come from that most noble and upright heart a solution, an act of liberatioi\ bursting these iron bonds ! There must be a means of escape by which he and his poor ■m\ f I 1 \ % : i I I lOO THE cniEF-jusricE. i: i8li child and Justice licrsclf will have their due! There- vitisl be ! — simply because he is what he is ! " There was a gleam of light in Berger's usually placid, contented face, the reflection of the thought that filled his soul and raised him above the misery of the mo- ment. But, notwithstanding, his looks became serious and gloomy again. " But what is this solution.'*" he asked, continuing his over wrought reflections. " And how shall this broken-down, sick man, weary with his tortures, find it "i And I — I know of none, perhaps no one save my- self can find it ! ' Against the burden of such a fate, no parade of sophistry will be of any avail,' I said to him yesterday. But can small expedients be of any use ? Will it be a solution if I succeed with my appeal, if the sentence of death is commuted to penal servitude for life or for twenty years .-* Can this lessen the bur- den of the fate .-* — for her, for him ? "What to do } " he suddenly exclaimed aloud. He wrung his hands and stared before him. Suddenly, there was a curious twitching about his mouth, and his eyes gleamed with an almost weird light. "No, no ! " he muttered vehemently. "How can such a thought ever occur to me. I feel it, I am myself becoming ill and unstrung ! " He bounded up with a heavy stamp and hastily passed his hand over his forehead as though the thought which had just passed through his brain stood written T/IR CHfEF- JUSTICE. lOI I ! there and must be swiftly wiped away. But that thought returned again and again, and would not be scared away, that enticing but fearful thought : how she might be forcibly liberated from prison and carried off to new life and happiness in a distant country. "Madness!" he muttered, and added in thought: "He would rather die and let her die, than give his consent to this, or set his hand to such a deed ! He, whose conscience would not allow him to preside at the trial ! And if in his perplexity and despair he were to go so far, I should have to bar the way and stop him even if it cost me my life. What was it he said yester- day : ' An offence should not be expiated by an injus- tice ! ' and will he attempt it by another offence. 'Cowardly and dishonourable.^' yes, that it would be, and not that great deed of which I dream ; greater and more just than Fate itself." He seized the notes which he had made from the papers connected with the trial, and forced himself to read them through deliberately, to weigh them again, point by point. This expedient helped him ; that hor- rible thought did not return, but a new thought rose, bringing comfort in its train, and took shape ; " When a great act cannot be achieved, we should not, on that account, omit even the smallest thing that can possibly be done. I will set my energies against the sentence of death, because it is the most frightful thing that 1 1,1 f ' I 1 02 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. could happen ! " And now he recovered courage and eagerness for work. He sat at his writing-table hour after hour, marshal- ling his reasons and objections into a solid phalanx which, in the fervour of the moment, seemed to him as if it must sweep away every obstacle, even prejudice, even ill-will. He had bolted himsolf in ; nobody was to disturb him, he only interrupted himself for a few minutes to snatch a hasty meal. Then he worked away until the last sentence stood on the paper. For the first time he now looked at the clock ; it was pointing to ten. It was too late to visit the poor pn'-- oner, and he was grieved that he had not kept hi-^ nrom- ise. If she were perhaps secretly nourishing the hope of being saved, she would now be doubly despairing. But it could not now be helped, and he resolved to make good his remissness early the next morning. Send- lingen, however, he would go and see. "Perhaps he is in want of me, " he thought. "I should be much surprised if he were not now more helpless than ever. " He made his way through the wet, cold, foggy autumn night ; things he had never dreamt of were in store for him. When he pulled the bell, the door was at once opened ; Fraulein Brigitta stood before hirn. The candlestick in her hand trembled : the plump, well- nourished face of the worthy lady was so full of an- THE C 'llIEFJi 'S VICE. 103 guish that Bergcr started. " What has happened ! " he cried. ^ " Nothing ! " she answered. "Nothing at all ! It is only that 1 am so silly." But her hand was treml)ling so much that she had to put down her candle, and the tears streamed down her cheeks as she continued with an eftbrt : " He went out — and has not come back — and so I thought — but I am so silly." ••So it seems," Bcr > r roughly exclaimed, trying to encourage both her r nd himself, but a sudden anguish so choked his 'Jf .ancc that vnat he then said sounded almost unintelligible. ' May he not pay a visit to a friend and stay to supper there .-* Is he so much under your thumb that he must give you previous liotice of his intention } lie is at Baron Dernegg's I expect." "No," she sobbed, "he is not there, and Franz has already looked for him in vain in all the places where he might be. He was twice at your house, but your servant would not admit him. And now the old man is scouring the streets. He will not find him ! " she suddenly screamed, burying her face in her hands. "Nonsense!" cried Bcrger almost angrily. He forced the trembling woman inio a chair, sat down beside her and took her hand. "Let us talk like reasonable beings," he said, "like— like men, Friiulein Brigitta. When did he go out ''. " "Seven hours ago, just after his dinner, which he hardly touched ; it must have been about four o'clock. i if there is not, if it is only the torture of the mind that returns, it will be bad enough. Very bp'' in f^ct. Do you know no remedy for it .? " " None ! " answered the honest lawyer feebly. They parted without a word in the deepest distress. By earliest dawn, when the bells of the Cathedral rang forth for the first time, Berger was back again in his friend's lobby. "Thank God, he is still sleeping," whispered Fraulein Brigitta. "The worst has past, hasn't it?" I20 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. " We will hope so," he replied constrainedly. For a long time he stood at the window and stared out into the court-yard : involuntarily his g-aze lixcd itself on the little door in the wall which was so small and low that he had never noticed it before ; now he examined it for the first time. Then he roused himself and went to the other part of the buildin-.••.;.« THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 129 "I must ! " cried Sendlingen despairingly. "It is the one thought to which i clim^, ,0 as to avoid madness. When I awoke, — I was so peipuxed and desolate, I felt my misery returning — then I heard Rohn's voice in the next room. They were going to send him away ! I was still asleep, they said, — but I made him come in for I wanted to hear some other voice than that of my con- science, and because I was afraid of myself. I did not dream that he was bringing me a staff by which I could raise myself again." "You asked him about her?" " No ; by the merest chance he began to tell me of his talk with her yesterday, and how she-was wasting away because there was no one on earth for whose sake she could or would rouse herself. Oh, what I felt ! Despair shook my heart more deeply than ever, and yet I could have thanked him on my knees for these good tidings. Now my life has an object again, and I know why Fate has allowed me to survive this day." Berger was silent — should he, dared he, tell the truth ? "Think it over a while," he then begged. " If you were to betray yourself to the officials. " " I shall not do so. And if I did, how could that trou- ble me ? Don't you see that a man in my situation cannot think of himself or suchlike secondary considerations .?." "That would be no secondary consideration. And could you save her by such a step ? The situation remains as it was ! " \u 130 THE CHfFJ'-JUSriCE, " Are you cruel enough to remind me of that?" cried Sendlingen. " But. thank (jod I I am clear enough to give you the right answer instead of aUowing myself to be oppressed by misery. Now listen : I shall do what I can ! From the hangman, from the prison, I may not be able to save my child, but perhaps I can from despair, from wasting away. I shall say to her : live for your father, as your father lives for you ! Per- haps this thought will affect her as it has affected me ; it has saved me from the worst. Another night like last night, George ! " He stopped and a shudder ran through his body — "such a night shall not come again ! I do not know what is to be done later on, my immediate duty is clear. I have been fighting against the instinct that drew me to her, as against a suggestion of madness ; I now see that it was leading me aright.'' He laid his hand on the bell to summon Franz. Berger prevented him. "Wait another hour," he im- plored. " I will not try to hinder you any more ; I sec that it would be useless, perhaps unjust. But let me speak to her first. Humour me in this one thing only. You agreed vo do so yesterday." " So t>j; it ! " said Sendlingen. " But you must promise not to keep me waiting a minute longer than is absolutely necessary." Berger promised and took his leave. He was not a religious man in the popular sense of the word, and yet as he again rang the prison bell he felt as if he must TJIE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 131 pray that his words would be of effect as a man only can pray for a favour for himself. The warder wms astouished when he again asked admission ti> tlic cell, and Victorine looked at him with surprise. ^ He went up to her. " Listen to me," he begged. " I have hitherto wished to conceal the truth from you, with the best intentions, but still it was not right. For false- hood kills and truth saves, always and everywhere — I ought to have remembered that. Well then : I know your father ; he is my best friend, a man so noble and good, so upright and full of heart, as are few men on this poor earth." She rose. "If that were so my mother would have lied," she cried. "Can I believe you rather than my mother .-* Can you expect this of me } " "No, " he replied. " Your mother judged him quite corrtctly. He did not betray her through thoughtless- ness, nor forsake her through weakness. But much less still from cold-blooded calculation. No external constraint weighed upon him, but an internal, the con- straint of education, of his convictions, of his views of the world and men, in short, of his whole being. So that he could hardly have acted differently. With all this there was such a fatal, peculiar concatenation of external circumstances, that it would have needed a giant-soul not to have succumbed. We are all of us but men. I would not trust anyone I know, not even my- '■'■ <* ; 132 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. I HI self, to have been stronger than he was ! — Not one, Victorine ! — Will you believe me?" "My mother judged otherwise!" she replied. "And will you, perhaps, also attempt to justify the fact that he never corcerned himself about his child ? " " He knew nothing of you," cried Berger. " He did not dream that he had a child in the world ! And one thing I can assure you : if he^had accidentally heard that you were alive, he would not have rested until he had drawn you to his heart, he would have sheltered you in his arms, in his house, from the battle with misery and the wickedness of men. Not only would his heart have dictated this, or the absence of children by his marriage, but his sense of justice ; so as to make good in you what he could no longer make good to your poor mother. If you could only imagine how he suffers ! — You must surely be able to feel for him : a noble man, who suddenly learns that his offence is ten times greater than he had thought or dreamt, that he has a child in the world against whom also he has trans- gressed, and who learns all this at a moment when he can make no reparation — in such a moment — can you grasp this, Victorine ? " Her face remained unmoved. "What shall I say? '' she exclaimed gloomily. "If he really suffers, the punishment is only just. What did my mother not suffer on his account. And I ! " — '^^ im THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. ^11 he "But can we ascribe all the blame to him? cried — ** all, Victorine ? " "Perhaps,'' she answered. "But if not all, then the most, so much that I will certainly believe you in one thing : if he is a human being' at all then he should now be suffering all the tortures of remorse. Still as great as my sorrow, his cannot be ! And is my guilt greater than his ? And has he too to expiate it with honour and life?" " Quite possibly ! " h3 cried. "Perhaps with his life, seeing that he cannot, situated as he now is, expiate it with his honour. Oh, if you knew all. If you knew what an unprecedented concatenation of circumstances had heightened the sense of his guilt, had increased his sorrow to infinite proportions. And you shall know all." "I will not hear it," she cried with a swift move- ment of repulsion. "I do not care — I may not care a' out it. I will not be robbed of my feelings against 'l.i^ man, I will not ! His punishment is just— let us drop the subject." " Just ! Still this talk about just ! You are young, but you have experienc •• .nough of life, you have suffered enough, to know how Tar this justice will bring us. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth — sliall this piti- less web 'Vi guiii ;xiid expiation continue to spin itself everlasting*); i:<:,n\ generation to generation ? Can't you jiuk'.sTe to you, to console you, to console himself in you." "I will not see him ; you must prevent U." "I cannot. T have tried in vain. He will come ; his reason, perhaps his life, depend upon the way you may receive him." " Do not burden me with such responsibilities," she sobbed despairingly. " I cnnnot forgive him. But I desire nobody's death, i do not wish him to aie. Tell THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 135 him what you like, even that I forgive him, but keep him away, I implore you." She would have thrown herself at his feet, but he prevented her. " No, not that," he murmured. " I will not urge you any more. As God wills ! " A few minutes later he was again with Sendlingen. " She knows ail," he told him, " except your name and station. She does not desire your visit — she — dreads the excitement." He stopped short and looked anxiously at his friend ; he feared another sudden outburst of despair. But it did not come. Sendlingen certainly started as in pain, but then he drew himself up to his full height. " You are concealing the truth from me," he said. " She docs not wish to :see her mother's betrayer. I did not think of it before, but I read it at once in your looks of alarm. That is bad, very bad — stop me, it cannot. — Where the stranger has tried in vain, the father will succeed. My heart tells me so." He called for his hat and stick, and leaning on Ber- ger's arm, went down the steps. In the street he loosed his hold : the energy of his soul had given his body new strength. With a firm step he walked to the prison door, and the quiver in his voice was scarcely perceptible as he gave the warder the order to open Victorine Lippert's cell. The oflicial obeyed. The prisoner hardly looked up .when she heard the bolts rattle yet another time. The \u • 'i ^ I • f- I i H / ' 1 4. ■*( ^ ■x* 1 J '; 136 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. warder felt himself in duty bound to call her attention to the importance of the visit she was about to receive. ** His Lordship, the Chief-Justice, Baron Sendlingen ! " he whispered to her. " Inspection of the Cells. Stand up." He stepped back respectfully to admit Sendlingen and locked the door after him. The two were alone. Victorine had risen as she had been told : once only did she cast a transient and non- chalant look at the tall figure before her, then she remained standing with bowed head. Similar inspec- tions had frequently taken place before ; in each case the functionary had briefly asked whether the prisoner wished anything or had any complaint to make. This question she was waiting for now in order to reply as briefly in the negative; she wanted nothing more. But he was silent, and as she looked up surprised — " Merciful God ! " she cried, and reeled back on to her couch, covering her face with her trembling hands. She knevr who this man was at once, at the first glance. How she had recognised him with such light- ning speed, she could not determine, even later when she thought the matter over. It was half dark in the cell, she had not properly seen his features and expres- sion. Perhaps it was his attitude which betrayed him. With bowed head, his hands listlessly hanging by his sides, he stood there like a criminal before his judge. At her exclamation, he looked up and came nearer. " Victorine," he murmured. She did not understand THE CUIEF-JUSTICE. "^11 him, so low was his stifled articulation. " My child ! " he then cried aloud and darted towards her. She rose to her feet and stretched out her hands as if to repel him, gazing at him all the while with widely opened eyes. And again she did not know what it was that suddenly penetrated or moved her heart. Was it be- cause his face seemed familiar to her, mysteriously familiar, as if she had seen it ever since she could think ? Yes, it was so ! For what, unknown to her- self, had overpowered her, was the likeness to her own face. Or was it perhaps the silent misery of his face, the beseeching look of his eyes ? — She felt the bitter animosity to which she had despairingly clung, the one feeling of which she would not be robbed, suddenly melt away. "I cannot," she still faltered; but, in the same breath, she lifted up her arms. " I\ather ! " she cried and threw herself on his breast. He caught her in his arms and covered her head and face with tears and kisses. Then he drew her on to his knees and laid her head in his breast. Thus they sat and neither spoke a word, only their tears fl,owed on and on. % I ! :J •i J ; ■ ! ■V 'i ' I r- ! I; 1; 'I ■ i; : i 'I 138 THE CniEF-JUSTJCE. i ■ CHAPTER VIII. Half an hour might have passed since Sendh'ngen entered his daughter's cell ; to Berger, who was pacing up and down outside as sentry, it seemed an eternity. The warder, too, was struck by the proceeding. This zealous, but very loquacious, official, whom Berger had known for many years, approached him with a confi- dential smile. "There must — naturally enough — be something strange going on in there, " he said as he pointed with a smirk towards the cell. "Something very strange." Berger at first stared at the man as much disconcerted as if he had said that he knew the secret. "What do you mean by that.?" he then said roughly. "Your opinions are not wanted." The warder looked at him amazed. " Well, such as we — naturally enough — are at least entitled to our thoughts," he replied. "There has been a run upon this cell since yesterday as if it contained a princess ! First the doctor. Father Rohn and you, Herr Berger — and now his lordship the Chief Justice, and all in little more than an hour's time. That doesn't occur every day and I know the reason for it." Berger because is the rer "Well —talk ab "althoui of the C speeches you will enough- equality i girl who soul wou an educa her seduc she had t the law r of her, ai ment I, f' governor favouritis behaved savs, hai Hobingei But I kno taken the but on a thing thai THE ClIIKr-Ji 'S TfCE. 139 Berger forced himself to siiiili.'. ''Oi course you do, because you're such a smart fellow, Ilobinger I What is the reason of il? " "Well, with you, Dr. Berber, lean — naturally enough — talk about the matter," replied the warder tlattered, "although you are the prisoner's counsel and a friend of the Chief-Justice. But in 1848 you made great speeches and were always on the side of the people ; you will not betray me, Dr. Berger. Well — naturally enough — it is the old story : there is no such thing as equality in this world ! If she in there were a servant- girl who had been led astray by a serving-man, not a soul would trouble their heads about her ! But she is • an educated person, and what is the principal thing — her seducer is a Count — that alters matters. Of course she had to be condemned — naturally enough — because the law requires it, but afterwards every care is taken of her. and if she were to get off with a slight punish- ment I, for one, shouldn't be surprised. Of course the governor says that's nonsense ; if it were a case of favouritism he says, Herr von Werner would have behaved differently to her : the Vice-Chief-Justice, he says, has a very keen scent for favouritism ; you, Hobinger, he says — ^naturally enough — are an ass ! But I know what I know, and since his lordship has taken the trouble to come, not in a general inspection, but on a special visit that is lasting longer than any- thing that has ever been heard or dreamt of, I am quite \ St ' 1 ic I40 rilE CHIEF-JUSTICE. convinced that it is not I, but on the contrary, the governor — " But the crafty fellow did not allow this disrespect to his superior to pass his lips, but contented himself by triumphantly concluding: — "Naturally enough — is it not, Dr. Berger ? " Berger thought it best to give no definite answer. If this chatterbox were to confide his suspicions to the other prison officials it would at least be the most harmless interpretation, and therefore he only said : "You think too much, Hobinger. That has often proved dangerous to many men." Another half hour had gone by and Berger's anxiety and impatience reached the highest pitch. He was un- certain whether to put a favourable or an unfavourable interpretation upon this long stay of Sendlingen's, and even if he had succeeded in touching his child's heart, yet any furdier talk in this place and under these con- ditions was a danger. How great a danger, Berger was soon to see plainly enough. The artful Hobinger was slinking about near the cell more and more restlessly. Only Berger's presence kept him from listening at the key-hole, or from opening the little peep-hole in the door, through which, un- observed by the prisoner, he could see the inside of every cell. The desire was getting stronger and stronger ; his fingers itched to press the spring that would open it. At last, cumbed open nc opening At th " What that the Berger him asii The God's wanted right' "Th^ ness. Hed^ was att; out of tl express] covered " Yoi He see I asked n Still ] "My 1( duty. come ii "Do THE CHIEF JUSTICE. 141 At last, just as Berger had turned his back, he suc- cumbed to his curiosity ; the Utile wooden door flew open noiselessly — he was going to lix his eyes in the opening. ... At that moment Berger h;i|)i)cned to turn round. " What are you doing tliere ? " he cried in such a way that the man started aiid stepped back. In a second Berger was beside him, had seized his arms and flung him aside. "What impertinence ! " he cried. The warder was trembling in every limb. " For God's sake." he begged, "don't ruin me, I only wanted to see whether — whether his lordship was all right." "That's a lie ! " cried Berger with intentional loud- ness, " You have dared — " He did not require to finish the sentence ; his object was attained. Sendlingen opened the door and came out of the cell. His face bore once more its wonted expression of kindly repose ; he seemed to have re- covered complete mastery of himself. "You can lock up again," he said to the warder. He seemed to understand what had just past, for he asked no questions. Still Hcibinger thought it necessary to excuse himself. "My lord," he stammered "I only wanted to do my duty. It sometimes happens that — that criminals be- come infuriated and attack the visitors." " Does that poor creature in there strike you as m 142 / ■///■; cii/EF-jusriL '/-:. 6< tiii being danj^erous ? " asked Sendliiigen, It seemed to Berg'er almost unnatural that he could put forth the effort to say this — nay, more, that he could at the same time force a smile. "My lord—" " Never mind, Ilobinger ! You were perhaps a little inquisitive, but it shall be overlooked in consideration of your former good conduct. Besides, prisoners are allowed no secrets, at all events after their sentence. " Turning to Pjerger he continued: " She must be taken to the Infirmary this afternoon, it is a necessity. Have you anythiiig else to do here.'' No.? Well, come back with me." It all sounded so calm, so business-like — Berger could hardly contain his astonishment. He would never have belie\'ed his friend capable of such strength and especially after such a night — after such an inter- view ! "I admire your strength of nerve," cried he when they got out into the street. "That was a fear- ful moment." " Indeed it was I " corroborated Sendlingen, his voice trembling for the lirst time. "If the fellow had cast one single look through the peep-hole, we should have both been lost ! Fancy Hobinger, the warder, seeing the Chief Justice with a criminal in his arms ! " "Ah, then, it came to that.?" "Should I otherwise be so calm .' I am calm because I have now an object again, because I see a way of "•^SNS, THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. M3 doing my duty. Oh, (ieorge, how right you were : happy indeed am I that I live and can pay my debt." "What do voii think of doin*'- } '' "First of all, the most important thing: to preserve her life, to prepare her for life. As I just said, she shall be allotted a cell in the Infirmary and have a patient's diet. I may do this without dereliction of duty. I should have to take such measures with anyone else If I knew the circumstances as accurately as I do in this case." " But you will not be able to visit her too often in the Infirmary," objected Berger. "Certainly not,"' replied Sendlingen. "I see that the danger is too great, and I told her so. Yes, you were right in that too ; it is no secondary consideration whether our relationship remains undiscovered or not. I cannot understand how it was that I did not see this before ; why, as I now sec, cvoytliing depends upon that. And I see things clearly now. This interview has worked a miracle in me, George — it has rent the veil before my eyes, it has dispelled the mist in my brain. I know I can see Victorine but seldom ; on the other hand Brigitta will be with her ('nily, for she is a mem- ber of the " Woman's Society, and it will strike nobody if she specially devotes herself to my poor child." "It will not strike others, but will she not herself guess the truth } " "Why, she shall know all ! I will tell her this very I \^ 144 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. day. She is entirely devoted to me, brave and sterling, the best of women. Besides, I have no choice. Inter- course with a good, sensible wcjman is of the most urgent necessity to my poor dear "^ut I have not re- solved on this step simply for that icason. I shall need this faithful soul later on as well." " I understand — after the term of imprisonment is at an end." Sendlingcn stood still, and looked at his friend ; it was the old look full of wretchedness and despair. "Yes ! " he said unsteadily. "Certainly, I had hardly thought ^f that. 1 do not indulge any extravagant hopes ; I am picpared for anything, even for the worst. And just in tins event Brigitta's '' -> would be more than ever indispensable to me." "If the worst were to happen?" asked Berger. " How am I to understand this? " Sendlingcn made no reply. Not until Berger repeated the question did he say, slowly and feebly: "Such things should not be talked about, not with anyone, not even with a best friend, not even with oneself. Such a thing is not even dwelt upon in thought, it is done whe 1 it has to be done." His look was fixed as he spoke, like a man gazing into a far distance or down into a deep abyss. Then his face became calm and resolved again. "One thing more,"' he said. "You have finished drawing up the appeal ? Aluy 1 read it ? Forgive me, of course I THE cniEFJi 'S TfCE. M5 have every confidence in you. liut, see ! so much depends upon it for nic, perha]»s something might occur to me that would be of iiuportance ! " "What need of asliing I " interrupted Berger. "It would be doing me a service. We will go through the document together this very day." When he called on his friend in the evening with this object, Fraulein Brigitta came out to see him. The old lady's eyes were red with crying, but her face was as it were lit up with a strong and noble emotion. "I have already visited her," she whispered to Ber- ger. "Oh, believe me, she is an angel, a thousand times purei than are many who plume themselves on their virtue. I bade her be of good cheer, and then I told her much about his lordship — who knows better how, — who knowb him better .'^ She listened to me peacefully, crying quietly all the time, and I had to cry too. But all will come right ; I am quite sure of it. If the God above us were to let these two creatures perish, these two — " Her voice broke with deep emotion. Berger silently pressed her hand and entered the study. He found his friend calm and collected. Sendlingren no longer complained ; no word, no look, betrayed the burden that oppressed his soul. He dispatched his business \\\\X\ Berger conscientiously and thoroughly, and as dispassionately as if it were a Law examination paper. More than that — when he came to a place 10 * t ■3- '■% I A T I I ,.«»?* 146 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. where Berger, in the exaltation of the moment, had chosen too strong an expression, he always stopped him : "That won't do ! we must find calmer and more temperate words ! " And usually it was he, too, who found these calmer and more temperate words. Down to the last word he maintained this clearness, this almost unnatural calm. Not until Berger had folded his paper and was putting it in his pocket did the consciousness of his misery seem to return. Invol- untarily he stretched forth his hand towards the paper. ** You want to refer to something again ? " asked Berger. " No ! " His hand dropped listlessly. "Besides it is all labour in vain. My lot is cast." "Your lot?" cried Berger. "However much you may be bound up with the fate of your child, you must not say that ! " ''My lot, only my lot!" He had again the same peculiar look and tone as he had before when he said that such things should not be spoken of even to oneself. But this time Berger wanted to force him to an explanation. "You talk in riddles," he began — but he got no further. For with a decision that made any further questions impossible, Sendlingen interrupted him : "May I be spared the hour when you learn to know this riddle ! Even you can -have no better wish than tbi Go tin THE CH/EF-/UST/CS. 147 this for me ! Why vainly sound the lowest depths ? Good-night, George, and thanks, a thousand, thousand times.!" I h \-l • \\ ' I! '\ 1^* 148 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE, CHAPTER IX. Six weeks had elapsf ince the dispatch of the ap- peal ; Christmas was at the door. The days had come and gone quickly without bringing any fresh storm, any fresh danger, but certainly without dispelling even one of the clouds that hung threateningly over the heads of these two much-to-be-commiserated beings. Berger was with Sendlingen daily, and daily his questioning look received the same answer : a mute shake of the head — the decision had not yet arrived. The Supreme Court had had the papers connected with the trial brought under its notice; beyond the announce- ment of the self-evident fact, not a line had come from Vienna. This silence was certainly no good sign, but it did not necessarily follow that it was a bad one. To be sure the lawyer examining the case, if he did not from the first attribute no importance whatever to Ber- ger's statements, should have demanded more detailed information from the Court at Bolosch, and all the more because Baron Dernegg's dissentient vote was recorded in the papers. Still perhaps this silence was simply to be explained by the fact that he had not had an oppor- tunily of going into the case. THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. U9 Berger held fast to this consoling explanation or at least pretended to do so, when the subject came up in conversation, which was seldom enough ; he did not like to begin it, and Sendlingen equally avoided it. It almost seemed to Berger as if his unhappy friend wel- comed the delay in the decision, as if he gladly dragged on in a torture of uncertainty from day to day — any- thing so as not to look the dread horror in the face. And indeed Sendlingen every morning sighed with relief, when the moment of horrid suspense had gone by, when he had looked through the Vienna mail and found nothing. But this did not arise from the motive which Berger supposed, but from a better feeling. Sendlingen rejoiced in every hour of respite that gave his poor child more time to gather strength of soul and body. The shattered health of Victorine mended visibly, day by day. The deathly pallor disappeared, her weak- ness lessened, the look of her eyes was clearer and steadier. The doctor observed it with glad astonish- ment and no little pride ; he ascribed the improvement to his remedies, to the better nourishment and care which on his representations had been indefinitely allotted her. When he boasted of it to his friend, Father Rohn, the good priest met him with as bantering a smile as his kind heart would allow : he knew better ; if this poor child was blossoming again, the merit was entirely his ! Had not the doctor himself said that she i id H .i, H t , ! •'11 i \ \ t •! I50 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. could only be saved by a change in her frame of mind? And had not this change really set in even more visibly than her physical improvement? A new spirit had entered into Victorine. She no longer sat gazing in melancholy brooding, she no longer yearned for death, and v^'hen the priest sought to nourish in her the hope of pardon — in the sincerest conviction, for he looked upon the confirmation of the death-sentence as an impossibility — she nodded to him touched and grateful. She seemed now to understand him when he told her that the repentance of a sinner, and his after-life of good works, were more pleasing to the good God above than his death. And when he once more led the conversation to the man who, in spite of everything, was her father and perhaps at this moment was suffering the bitterest anguish on her account, when he begged her not to harden her heart against the unknown, he had the happiness of hearing her say with fervour in her looks and voice : "I have forgiven him from the bottom of my heart. The thought of him has completely restored me ! Perhaps God will grant me to be a good daughter to him some day ! " So the words of comfort and the exhortations of the good priest had really not been in vain ! The true state of the case nobody even suspected ; the secret was stringently kept. No doubt it struck many people and gave occasion to a variety of gossip, that Fraulein Brigitta visited the condemned prisoner THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. i5i almost daily, and the Chief-Justice almost weekly, but a sufficient explanation waf sought and found. Good- natured and inoffensive people thought that Victorine Lippert was a creature so much to be pitied, that these two noble characters were only following their natural instincts in according her a special pity ; the malevo- lent adopted the crafty Hobinger's view and talked of 'favouritism'; the aristocratic betrayer and his mother, the Countess, they said, had after all an uneasy con- science as to whether they had not behaved too harshly to the poor creature, and the representations they had made to their fellow-aristocrat. Baron von Sendlingen, had not been in vain. Certainly this report could only be maintained in uninitiated circles ; anyone who was intimately acquainted with the aristocratic society of the province knew well enough that the Countess Riesner- Graskowitr was assuredly the last person in the world to experience a single movement of pity for the con- demned girl. Be that as it might, Sendlingen behaved in this case as he had all his life done in any professional matter : humanely and kindly, but strictly according to the law, and without overstepping his duty by a hair's-breadth. The better attention, the separate cell in the Infirmary would certainly have been allotted to anyone else about whom the doctor had made the same representa- tions. When Father Rohn, moved by his sense of compassion, sought to obtain some insignificant favour i ' ■■ ?;]l II '■'■■ %- i.« 152 THE CHIEF-JCSTICE. that went beyond these lines — it had reference to s^ome absokitely trifling- reguhition of the house — the gover- nor of the jail was ready to grant it, but the Chief- Justice rigidly set his face against the demand. When Berger heard of this trivial incident, a heavy burden which he had been silently carrying for weeks, without daring to seek for certainty in a conversation on the subject, was rolled from his heart. He had put an interpretation on the mysterious words which Sendlin- gen had uttered the day after the trial, which had tilled him with the profoundest sorrow, more than that, with terror. Now he saw his mistake : a man whoso strictly obeyed his conscience in small matters where there was no fear of discovery, would assuredly in any greater conflict between inclination and duty, hold fast unrelentingly to justice and honour. He was soon to be strengthend in this view. It was three days before Christmas-day when he once more entered his friend's chambers. He found him buried in the perusal of letters which, however, he now pushed from him. "The mail from Vienna is not in yet," he said, "the train must have got stuck in the snow. But I have letters from Pfalicz, the Chief-Justice of the Higher Court there, whose position I am to succeed to ; he asks whether it would not be possible for me to release him soon after the New Year, instead of at the end of February, as the Minister of Justice arranged. He is i THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 153 unwell, and ought to go south as soon as possible." "Great Heavens ! " cried Berger, " why, we have for- gotten all about that." And indeed those stormy days and the succeeding weeks of silent, anxious suffering, had hardly allowed him to think of Sendlingen's impending promotion and departure. " I have not," replied Sendlingen, gloomily. "The thought that I had to go, has often enough weighed me down more heavily than all my other burdens. How gladly I would stay here now, even if they degraded me to — to the post of governor of the prison ! But I have now no option. 1 have definitely accepted the position at Pfalicz and I must enter upon it." "And do you really think of departing at the New Year?" "No, that would be beyond my duty. I should be glad to oblige the invalid, but, as you know, I cannot; I shall stay till the end of February ; the decision must have come by that time." He again bent over a document that lay before him. Berger, too, was silent, he went to the window and stared out into the grey dusk ; it seemed as if the snow-storm would never cease. There was a knock at the door ; a clerk of the Court of Records entered. "From the Supreme Court," he announced, laying a packet with a large seal on the table. " It has just arrived. Personally addressed to your lordship." li,f 1 54 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. The clerk departed ; Berger approached the table. When he saw how excited Sendlingen was, how long he remained gazing at the letter, he shook his head. "That cannot be the decision," he said. " It would not be addressed to you. It is some indifferent mat- ter, a question of discipline, a pension." Sendlingen nodded, and broke the seal. But at the first glance a deathly pallor overspread his face, and the paper in his hands trembled so violently that he had to lay it on the table in order to read it to the end. " Read for yourself," he then muttered. Berger glanced through the paper ; he too felt his heart beat impetuously as he did so. It was certainly not the decision, only a brief charge ; but its contents were almost equivalent to it. ^he lawyer examining the appeal had, as Berger hoped, been struck by Baron Dernegg's dissentient vote, and the motives for this. Dernegg was not of the opinion of his brother judges that this was a case of premeditated murder, maliciously planned months beforehand, but a deed done suddenly, in a paroxysm of despair, nay, most probably in a moment when the girl was not accountable for her actions. Against this more clement view, there certainly were the depo- sitions of the Countess, and Victorine's attempts to con- ceal her condition. But, on the other hand, her only confidante, the servant-girl, had deposed at the pre- liminary inquiry that Victorine had only made these atl ov th m Tl THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. '?5 attempts by her advice, and with her help, and, more- over, with the sole object of staying in the house until the young Count should come to her aid. This testi- mony, however, she had withdrawn at the trial, 13er- ger had chiefly based his appeal to nullify the trial, on the fact that the witness, in spite of this contradiction, had been put on her oath ; and to the examining law- yer, also, this seemed a point of decisive importance. The Chief-Justice was, therefore, commissioned to completely elucidate it by a fresh examination of the witness. Probably the charge had beer, directed to him personally, because, as it stated, neither Herr von Werner nor any of the other judges who had been in favour of putting her on oath, could very well be entrusted with the inquiry. But if Sendlingen were actually too busy with other matters to conduct the examination, he might hand it over to the third judge, Herr von Hoche. "What will you do.?" asked Berger. "The matter is of the gravest importance. That the girl gave false evidence at the trial, that this was her return for being taken back into the Countess's service, we know for a certainty. The only question is, whether we can con- vict her of it. An energetic judge could, without doubt, do so. But will old Iloche, now over seventy, succeed? He is a good man, but his years weigh heavily upon him. He is dragging himself through his duties till the date of his retirement — four weeks m \i ■A It f 156 THE CIIIEFJUSTJCE. ir hence, I fancy — as best he can. And, therefore, once again- -what will you do, Victor?" 'I don't know,'" he nuirmured. " Leave me alone. I must think it out by myself. Forgive me ! my con- science alone can decide in such a matter. Good-bye till this evening, George." Berger dcjuirted; his heart was as heavy as ever it had been. In the first ebullition of feeling, moved by his pity for these two beings, he had wished to compel his friend to undertake the inquiry, but now he had scruples. Was not the position the same as on the day of the trial } And if he then approved of his friend's reso- lution not to preside, could he now urge him to under take a similar task } Certainly the conflict was now more acute, more [)ainfully accentuated, but wasSendlingen's duty as a judge any the less on that account } Again the thought rose in Berger's mind which a few weeks ago had comforted him and lifted him above the misery of the moment : that there was a solution of these com- plications, a great, a liberating solution — there must be just because this man was what he was ! — But even now he did not know how to find this solution ; one thing only was clear to him: if Sendlingen under- took the inquiry and thus saved his child, it would be an act for which there would be all manner of excuses, but it would assuredly not be that great, saving act of whicli he dreamt I And yet if Hoche in his weakness ruined the case and did not bring the truth to light, if rifE ( '////•; /■-/( 's rn '/■:. ^57 she perhaps had to die now that she had bejj^uii to 1k)|)c again, that shi.' had awoke to a new h'fe . . . Berber ch)sed his eyes as it" to shut out the terrible picture that obtruded itself upon him, and yet it arose again and again. At dusk, just as he was starting to his friend's, Frau- lein Brigitta called to see him. "I am to tell you," she began, "that his lordship wants you to postpone your visit until to-morrow. But it is not on that account that I have come, but because I am oppressed with anxiety. Has the decision arrived ? He is as much upset again as he was on the day of the trial." Berger comforted her as well as he could. "It is only a momentary excitement," he assured her, " and will soon pass." " I only thought so because he is behaving just as he did then. It is a singular thing, he has been rummaging for those keys again. You know, — the one that opens the little door in the court-yard wall. I came in Justin the nick of time to see him take it out of his writing- table drawer. And just as before, it seemed to annoy him to be surprised in the act. — Isn't that strange .-* " "Very strange ! " he replied. But he added hastily : "It must have been a mere chance." "Certainly, it can only have been a coincidence," he thought after Brigitta had gone, "it would be madness to impute such a thing to him, to him who was n i ; ■ : * 1 I 158 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. A i'f-' i horrified at the idea of conducting the trial and equally so of this examination. And yet when he first seized upon that key, the idea must certainly have taken a momentary possession of him, and that it should have returned to him to-day, to-day of all days." As he was the next day walking along the corridor that led to Sendlingen's chambers, he met Mr. Justice Hoche. The hoary old man, supporting himself with difficulty by the aid of a stick, was looking very testy. "Only think," he grumbled, "what an odious task the Chief-Justice has just laid upon me. It will in- terest you, you were Counsel for the defence in the case. " And he told him of the charge at great length. *'Well, what do you say to that .? Isn't it odious ?" "It is a very serious undertaking!" said Berger. "The matter is one of the greatest importance." "Yes, and just for that reason," grumbled the old man, almost whimpering. "I do not want to under- take any such responsibility, now, when merely thinking gives me a headache. I suffer a great deal from head- aches, Dr. Berger ! And it is such a ticklish under- taking ! For you see either the maid-servant told the truth at the trial, in which ^as< this iresh examination is superfluous, or she and erg< was guilty of perjury, and ergo is a v«- tricVy female ! And how am I ever to get to the bottom f a tricky female, Dr. Berger ? " "Did you tell the Chief- Justice this?" asked Berger. i« THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 159 "Oh, of course ! For half an hour I was telHng him about my condition and how I always get a head- ache now if I have to think. But he stuck to his point. "You will have to undertake the matter; you must exert yourself! " Good Heavens ! what power of exertion has one left at seventy years of age.? Well, good-morning, dear Dr. Berger ! But it's odious — most odious ! " Berger looked after the old man as Yp. painfully hobbled along . "And in such hands,' he thought, "rests the fate of my two friends." Under the weight of this thought he had not the courage to face Sendlingen, He turned and went home in a melancholy mood. When the next day, towards noon, he was turning homewards after a trial at which he had been the de- fending barrister, he again met Mr. Justice Hoche, who was just leaving the building, in the portico of the Courts. The old gentleman was manifestly m a high state ot contentment. "Well," asked Berger, "is the witness here already? Have you begun the examination } " "Begun ? I have ended it ! " chuckled the old man. "And rebefie gesla one is entitled to rest. I shall let the law take care of itself to-day and go home. I haven't even got a headache over it ; certainly it didn't require any greai effort of thought — I soon got at the truth." I ; J : ■ '■> ■ i\ I i6o THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 1^1 " Indeed ? — and what is the truth ? " " Ilm ! I don't suppose it will be particularly agree- able to you," laughed the old judge, leaning confi- dentially on Berger's arm. "Though, for the matter of that, you may be quite indifferent about it : you have done your duty, your appeal was certainly splendidly drawn up, but what further interest can you have in this person ? For she is a thoroughly good-for-nothing person, and that's why she is dying so young ! What stories that servant-girl has told me about her, stories, my dear doctor, that an old barrack-wall would have blushed to hear. She was hardly seventeen years old when she came to the Countess, but alreadly had a dozen intrigues on her record, and what things she tokl her confidante about them, and which were repeated to me to-day — why, it is a regular Decameron, my dear Doctor, or, more properly speaking, Boccaccio, in com- parison is a chaste Carthusian." Berger violently drew his arm out of the old man's. "That's a lie ! ' he said between his teeth. "A scandalous calumny ! " The old judge looked at him quite pui out of coun- tenance. "Why, what an idea," he cried. "If it were not so, this servant-girl would be a tricky female." "So she is." "She is not I Oh, I know human nature. On the contrary, she is good-natured and stupid. No one could tell lies with such assurance, after having just THE CHIEF JUSTICE. i6i been solemiuy admonished to speak the truth. It is all iiicontestibly true — all her adventures — and how from the first she had hatched a regular plot to corrupt the young Count. The crafty young person calculated in this way : if our liaison has consequences, I shall per- haps inveigle the young man inLo a marriage, and if I don't succeed I shall kill the child and look out for another place ! " '' But just consider this one fact," cried Berger. " If this had p.ctually been Victorine Lippert's plan she would certainly have reflected : if I can't force a marriage, I shall at least get a handsome maintenance! and in that case she would not have killed her child, but carefully have preserved its life." The old judge meditatively laid his finger on his nose. " Look here, Dr. Berger, " he said importantly, "that is a very reasonable objection. But it has been adduced already, not by me, to tell the truth, but by my assistant, a very wise young man. But the wit- ness was able to give a perfectly satisfactory explana- tion on the subject. To be sure, she only did so after repeated questions and in a hesitating and uncertain manner, for the good, kind-hearted girl could with dif- ficulty bring herself to add still more to the criminal's load, but at length she ! ad to speak out. Thus we almost accidentally extracted a very important detail that proved to be of great importance in determining the case. It is a truly frightful story. Only fancy, 11 '1^ '. 1 ■ f 1 i" l62 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. II '■ I i II this mure girl, this Victorine Lippert, has always had a sort of thirst for the murder of little children. She repeatedly said to the g-irl, ion^r before the deed, before the young Count came to the castle at all: 'Strange! but whenever I see a little child, 1 always feel my hands twitching to strangle it.' "Frightful — isn't it, Dr. Berger ? " "Frightful indeed!" cried Berger. "If you have believed this poorly-contrived story of the wretched, perjured woman, — poorly-contrived, and invented in the necessity of the moment, so as to meet the objection of your assistant, so as not to be caught in her net of lies, so as to render the Countess another considerable service. " "Really, you will not listen to reason," said the old man, now seriously annoyed. " I feel my headache coming on again. Do you mean to say that you accuse the Countess of conniving at perjury ! A lady of the highest aristocracy ! Excuse me, Dr. Berger — that is going too far ! You are a liberal, a radical, 1 know, but that doesn't make every Countess a criminal. But if this is really your opinion of the witness, take out a sumnions for perjury at once ! " " It may come to that ! " replied Berger. The old man shook his head. " Spare yourself the trouble," he said good-naturedly. " It will prove inef- fectual, but you may certainly get yourself into great difticulties. Why expose yourself for the sake of such THE CrriEF-JUSTICE. [63 an abandoned creature to an action for libel on the part of the Countess and her servant? How abandoned she is, you have no suspicion ! I have, thank Heaven, concealed the worst of all from you, and you shall not learn it at my hands. You may read for yourself in the minutes. I do not wish to make a scene in the street ... 1 was so enjoying; this fine afternoon, and you have quite spoilt my good humour. Well, good- bye, Dr. Berger, I will forgive you. You have allowed yourself to be carried away by your pity, but you are bestowing it upon an unworthy creature ! The witness gave me the impression of being absolutely trustworthy and I have stated so in the minutes ! I considered myself bound in conscience to do so."' " Then you have a human life on your conscience ! " Berger blurted out. He had not meant to say anything so harsh, but the words escaped him- involuntarily. The old man started and clasped his hands. His face twitched, and bright tears stood in his eyes. " What have I done to you.? " he moaned. " Why do you say such a horrible thing .-* Why do you upset me.? I have always considered you a good man, and now you behave like this to me ! Berger stepped uy) to him and offered his hand. " Forgive me," he said, "your intention is good and pure. 1 know. And just for that reason I implore you to rctlcct well before you let the minutes go out of your hands. " M »? f \ $ ! 1 J I ) i64 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. Ill " That is already done. I have just handed them to the Chief-Justice." " And what did he sav .? " "Nothing, what should he say? Certainly he too seemed to be put out about something, for when I was about to enter on a brief discourse, he dismissed me a little abruptly." " But it is open to you to demand the minutes back, and examine the witness again. Keep a sterner eye upon her, and the contradictions in which she gets involved will certainly become evident to you. At her first examination she could only say the best things of Victorine Lippert, at the trial she had lost her memory, and now of a sudden nothing is too bad." " O, you barristers ! " cried the judge. ** How you twist everything ! The kind-hearted creature wanted to save Victorine Lippert, and pity moved her to lie at first : she has just openly and repentantly confessed that she did. But at the trial, before the Crucifix, be- fore the Judges, her courage left her. She was silent, because, like a good and chaste girl, she could not bring herself to speak before a crowd of people of all those repulsive details. You see, everything is explained. You are talking in vain." " In vain ! " Bergcr sighed profoundly, " Good-bye," he said turning to go. But after he had gone a few steps, Iloche called after • .\t ■■I THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 165 You him. The okl man's eyes were full of tears. are angry with nie ? " he said. "No." "Well, you have no reason to be angry, though I have — but I forgive you. By what you said you might easily have made me unhappy if the case had not been so clear. Certainly, I am upset now. To-morrow is Christmas Eve; my children and grandcliildren will come and bring me presents, and I shall give them presents, and I shall think all the time : Hoche, what a frightful thing if you were a murderer! You will take back your words, won't you ? I am no murderer, am I .? " Berger looked at the childish old man. "O tragi- comedy of life ! " he thought, but added aloud : " No, Herr Hoche, you are no murderer." In the evening he went to see Sendlingen and look over the minutes which he, too, had the right of disput- ing:. He would have been disconsolate enou":h if he had not already known their contents ; as it was the extraordinary tone of the document cheered him a little. The " wise young man " was perhaps himself an author, or at least had certainly read a great many cheap novels ; the style in which he had reproduced the servant girl's imaginations was, in the' worst sense of the word "fine! " How this lessened the danger of the contents was shown, especially by that worst fact of all which Hoche could not bring himself to pro- yii s| Hi lJ i66 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE, y !! noLince, and which was of such monstrous baseiKS:; that the faith of even the most vapid of judges must have been shaken in all tlie rest. " That is quite harmless," said Berger. " More than that, these monstrous lies are just the one hit of lu-:k ir. all our misfortunes." "Certainly!" Sendlingen agreed. "But we must not count too much upon them. The examining judge may not believe everything, but he will certainly not dis- credit everything. It could not be expected after Hoche's enthusiastic advocacy of the witness' credibility." "And yet these minutes must be sent off. Would it not be possible to hand over the inquiry to someone else?" " Impossible, or I would have done so yesterday. Either I or Hoche — the charge of the Supreme Court is clear enough! And /could not do it! It seemed to me mean and cowardly, treacherous and paltry, to break my judge's oath, trusting to the silence of the three people who beside me know the secret, trusting, moreover, never to have to undergo punishment for my offence. To this consideration it seemed to me that every other must give way." Berger was silent. "Would it not be possible to take out a summons for perjury } " he resumed. " No," cried Sendlingen, " it would be an utterly use- less delay ! Success in the present position of things is not to be hoped for. " THE CHlEF-JUSriCE. 167 Berger bowed his head. "Then justice will suffer once again," he said, in deep distress. "1 will not reproach you. When I put myself in your place — I cannot trust myself to say that I should have doi^o the same. I only presume I should, but this one thing I do know, that in accordance with your whole nature you acted rightly. Still, ever since the moment that I spoke to Hoche, I cannot silence a tormenting question. Ought fidelity to the law to be stronger than fidelity to justice .-* You would not undertake the inquiry because a father may not take part in an examination conducted against his child, but were you justified in handing it over to a man who was no longer in a condition to find out the truth, to fulfil his duty .-^ Has not justice suffered at your hands by your respect for the law, — that justice, I mean, which speaks aloud in the heart of every man ? " Sendli ngen was staring gloomily at the floor. Then he raised his eyes and looked his friend full in the face. The expression of his countenance, the tone of his voice became almost solemn : "I have fought out for myself an answer to thi.s question. I may not tell you what it is, but one thing I can solemnly swear : this outraged justice fo which you refer will receive the expiation which is its due." I 1 68 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. CHAPTER X. f1' if m Christmas was passed, New Year had come, the year 1853, one of the most melancholy that the Austrian Empire had ever known. The atmosphere was more charged than ever, coercion more and more severe, the confederacy between the authorities of church and state closer and closer. Melancholy reports alarmed the minds of peaceful citizen"; the Italian provinces were in a state of ferment; a consp' acy was discovered in Hungary, and a secret league of the Slavs of Prague. How strong and how weak these occult endeavours against the authority and peace of the state might be, no one knew. One thing only was manifest : the sev- erity with which they were treated, and perhaps in this severity lay the greatest danger of all. It was the old, sad story that so often repeats itself in the life of nations and was then appearing in a new shape ; tyranny had called forth a counter-tyranny, and this in its turn a fresh tyranny. The police had much to do everywhere, and in some districts the courts of justice, too. One of the greatest of the political investigations had, since Christmas, 1852, developed upon the Court of Bolosch. The middle classes of this manufacturing THE CHIEF-JUS 1 'ICE. 169 town were exclusively Germans, the working classes principally Slavs. It was among these latter that the police believed they had discovered the traces of a highly treasonable movement. About thirty workmen were arrested and handed over to justice. Sendlingen, assisted by Dernegg, personally conducted the inves- tigation. He had made the same selection in all the political arraignments of the last few years, although he knew that any other would have been more acceptable to the authorities. Certainly, neither he nor Dernegg were liberals — much less radicals — who sympathized with revolutions and revolutionaries, on the contrary, both these aristocrats had thoroughly conservative in- clinations ; at all events, in that good sense of the word which both then and now has been so little understood and practiced in Austria, and they were, moreover, en- tirely honourable and independent judges. But there was a prejudice in those days against men of unyield- ing character, especially in the case of political trials. There was an opinion that ''pedantry" was out ot place when the interests of the state were at stake. Sendlingen, on the other hand, was convinced that a political investigation should not be conducted differ- ently from any other, and it was precisely in this in- quisition into the conduct of the workmen that he manifested the greatest zeal, but at the same time the most complete impartiality. Divers reasons had determined him to devote all his i 5 - I i I : ■ ii -^-rr-rsr- aocD'" *MPMP«pp«iipmn 170 Ziyis' CHIEF-IUSTICE. m\ I'Sv energy to the case. The diversion of his thous^htsfrom his own misery did him good ; the ceaseless work dead- ened the painful suspense in which he was awaiting the decision from Vienna. Moreover, his knowledge of men and things liad predisposctl him to believe that these poor rough fellows had not so much deserved punishment as pity, and after a few days he was con- vinced of the justice of this supposition. These raftsmen and weavers and smiths who were all utterly ignorant, who had never been inside a school, who scarcely knew a prayer save the Lord's Prayer, who dragged on existence in cheerless wretchedness, were perhaps more justified in their mute impeachment of the body politic, than deserving of the accusations brought against thoni. They did not go to confession, they often sang songs that had stuck in their minds since 1848, and some of them had, in public-houses and factories, delivered speeches on the injustice of the economy of the world and state as it was reflected in their unhappy brains. This was all : and this did not make them enemies of the state or of the Emneror. On the contrary, the record of their examination nearly always testified the opinion : '• the only misfortune was that the young llmperor knew nothing of their condi- tion, otherwise he would help them.' Sendlingen's noble heart was contracted with pity, whenever he heard such utterances. And these men he was to convict of high treason ! No, not an instant longer than was ab- :;,! THE CIHEF-JirSsrfCE. 171 solutely necessary should they remain away from their families and trades. On the Feast of the Epij)hany Sendlingen was sitting in his chambers, examinin;^ a raftsman, an elderly man of herculean build, wiih a heavy, sullen face, covered with long straggling, iron-gray hair ; Johan- nes Novyrok was his name. The police had indicated him as particularly dangerous, but he did not prove to be worse than the rest. " Why don't you go to confession ? '' asked Send- lingen iinally, when ail the other grounds of suspicion had been discussed. "Excuse me,- my lord," respectfully'- answered the man in Czech, " but do you go? " Sendlingen looked embarrassed, and was about to sharply reprove him for-his impertinent question, but a look at the man's face disarmed him. There was neither impertinence n;)r insolence written there, but rather a painful look of anxiety and yearning that strangely affected Sendlingen. " Why? " he asked. "Because I might be able to regulate my conduct by yours," replied the raftsman. ** You see, my lord, I differ from my brethren. People such as we, they think, have no time to sin, much less ti> confess. The God there used to be must surely l)e dead, they say, otherwise there would be more justice in the world ; and if He is still alive, He knows w^ell enough that any- how we have got hell on this earth, and will not suffer i .- 8 » E 4 172 r//£ CJIIEFJUSTICE. us to be racked aiul roasted by devils in the next world. But 1 have never agreed with such sentiments; they strike me as being silly and wiien my mates say : rich people have a good time of it, let them go to confession, wltiv, it's arrant nonsense. For I don't believe that any one on ca. th has a good time of it, not even the rich, but that everybody has t'lcir trouble and torment. AmvI therefore I ^;i'>uld very much like to hear what a wise and good man. who must understand these things much better than I do, has to say to it all. It might meet my case. And I happen to have particular cv)ntidence in you. In the first place because you're better and wiser than most men ; so at least says every one in the town, and this can't be cither liypocrisy or flat- tery, because they say so behind your back. But I further want to hear your opinion, because I know for certain that you have an aching heart and plenty of trouble. " " How do you know that.?" Novyrok glanced at the short-hand clerk sitting near Sendlingen, and who was manifestly highly tickled at the simplicity of this ignorant workman. " 1 could only tell you," he s.dd shyly, "if you were to send that young man out of the room. It is no secret, but such fledglings don't understand life yet." The young clerk was much astonished when Send- lingen actually made a sign to him to withdraw. "Thank you," said the raftsman after the door was shu^ THE CHfEF-JUSriCE. ^11 \ shut. "Well, howl know ot" your trouble? In the first place one can read it in your face, and, secomlly, I saw you one stormy night — it may be eight weeks ago — wandering about the streets by yourself. Vou went down to the river ; I was waichman on a raft at the time, and I saw you [)hiinly. There were te irs run- ning down yourclieeks, but even if your eyes had been dry — well, no one goes roaming alone and at random on such a night, unless he is in great trouble." Sendlingen bowed his head lower over the papers before him. Novyrok continued : "An hour later, your friend brought you into our inn whither I had come in the meanwhile after my mate had relieved me of the watch. You were unconscious, I helped to carry you and take you home . . I don't tell you . .in the hope that you may punish me less than I deserve, but just that I may say to you : you too, my lord, know what suffering is — do you find the thought of God comforting, and what do you think of confession 1 " Sendlingen made no reply ; the recollection of that most fatal night of his existence and the solemn question of the poor fellow, had deeply moved him. "You must have experienced somethmg, Novyrok," he said at length, " that has shaken your faith." "Something, my lord.? Alas, everything! — Alas, my \\ hole life ! I don't believe there are many people to whom the world is a happy place, but such men as ,' I I A • " ' H ifi^' ii •Hi I i'; f |l ! ' ^ 174 77//^' CHIEF-JUSTICE. 1 should never have been born at all. I have never known father or nujther, I came into the world in a foundlini^- hospital on a Sylvester's Eve some tiUy years ag-o — the exact date I don't know — and that's why they called nit' 'Xovyrok' (New-Year). I had to suffer a great deal because of my birth ; it is beyond all belief how I was knocked about as a boy and youth among strantrers — even ado^r knov/s its mother, but I did not. And therefore t)ne thing- very soon became clear to me ; many disgraceful things happen on this earth, but the most disgracefid thing of all is to bring children into the world in this way. Don't you think so., ni}' lord.-'" Sendlingen did not answer. "And 1 iicted accordingly," continued Novyrok, "and hail no love-affair, though 1 had to put great restraint upon myself. I don't know whether virtue is easy to rich people, to the poor it is >ery bitter. It was not until I became steersman ot a raft and was earning foui- gulden a week that I married an honest girl, a laundress, and she bore me a dausrhter. That was a bright time, my lord, but it didn't last long. My wife began to gei .sickly and couldn't any longer earn anything; we got into want, although I honestly did my utmost and often, after the raft was brought to, I chopped wood or stacked coal all night through when I got the chance. W'l'll, howe\'er jioorly we had to live, we did manage to li\-e ; things didn't get really bad till she ilied. My mates now advised me to give "n ' THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. ■5 the of child to oth( \ care 01 my child to other people — and go as a rafts- man to foreign parts, on a big river, the Eibe or the Danube. 'Wages,' they said, 'are twice as much there, and you, as an able raftsman, can't help getting on.' But I hadn't got it in my heart to leave my little daughter, besides I was anxious about her ; to be sure she was only just thirteen, and a good honest child, but she promised to be very nice-looking. If you go away, I said to myself, you may perhaps stay away for many years, and there are plenty of men in this world without a conscience, and temptation is great ! So I stayed, and so as not to be separated from her even for a weclc, I gave up being a raftsman and be- came a workman at the foundry. But I was awkward at the work, the wages were pitiful, and though my daughter, poor darling, stitched her eyes out of her head, we were more often hungry than full. I fre- quently complained, not to her, but to others and cursed my wretched existence — I u as a fool ! for I was happy in those days. I did my duty to my child." Novyrok paused. Sendlingen sighed deeply. "And then } " he asked. "Then, my lord," continued the raftsman, "then came the dark hour, when I yielded to my folly and selfishness. Mavbc I am too hard to mvself in saving this, for I thought more of my child's welfare than my own, and many people thought what I did reasonable. But otherwise I must accuse Him above, and before I 1 '■ k 176 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. m I ' d'> ihat I would rather accuse myself. But I will tell you what happened in a few words. A former mate of mine, who was ^^■()rking at the salt-shippin*^ trade on the Traun, persuaded me to ^o with him, just for one summer, and the hig-h wages tempted me. My girl was sixteen at that time; she was like a rose, my lord, to look at. But before I went I told her my story, where I was born, and who my mother very likely was, and I said to her: 'Live honestly, my girl, or when I come back in the autumn I will strike you dead and then jump into the deepest part of the river ! ' — She cried and swore to me she'd be good. Bi'^ when I came back in the autumn — " He sobl'Od. Not till after a while did he add in a hollow V(jici' : " Ilanka was my daughter's name. Do you ])er]iaps remember the case, my lord, it took place in this house? Certainly it's a long while ago, it will be seven years next spring." ' " Hanka Novyrok ! " Scndlingcn laid his hand on his forehead. "I remember !" he then said. "That was the name of the girl who — who died in her cell during her imprisonment upon trial." **She hanged herself, " said Novyrok scpulchrally. " It hap])(MK'(l in the night ; the next morning she was to have come before the judges. She had murdered her child." There wa« a very long silence after this. Novyrok then resumed : THE CHIEF JUSTICE. 177 ell y- •ok ** You didn't examine me about the case, you would have understood inc. 'I'lic other judge before whom I was taken didn't understand me when 1 said : "This is acontroversy between me and Him up above, for either He is at fault or I am." The judge at tirst thought 'hat grief had turned my head, but when he understood what I said he abused me roundly and called me a blas- phemer. But I am not that. I believe in Him. I do not blaspheme Him, only I want to know how I stand with Him. It would be the greatest kindness to me, my lord, if you could decide for me." " Poor fellow," said Sendlingen, " don't torment your- self any more abolit it ; such things nobody can decide." Novyrok shook his head with a sigh. "A man like you ought to be able to make it out," he said, " although I can see that it is not easy. For, look here — how does the case stand ? A wretched blackguard, a linen-draper for whom she used to sew, seduced her in my absence. If I had stayed here, it would not have happened. When I came back I learnt nothing about it, she hid it from me out of fear of what I had said to her at parting, and that was the reason why she killed her child, yes, and herself too in the end. For I am convinced that it was not the fear of punishment that drove her to death, but the fear of seeing me again, and no doubt, she also wished to spare me the disgrace of that hour. Now, mv lord, all this — " They were interrupted. A messenger brought in a 12 '■\ I • \ il 178 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. if? Rfff il .:i|| fs 'il :e8i 'I i m 1 ^^^B 1 ■' letter which had just arrived. Sendlingen recognised tiie writing of the Count, his brother-in-hiw, who was a judge of the Supreme Court. He laid the letter un- opened on the table ; very likely belated New-Year's wishes he thought. '-Go on ! " he said to the accused. "Well, my lord, all this seems to tell against me, but it might be turned against Him too. I might say to Him : 'Wasn't I obliged to try and keep her from sin by using the strongest words ? And why didst Thou not watch over her when I was faraway ; Hanka, was Thy child, too, and not only mine ! And if Thou wouldst not do this, why didst Thou suffer us two to be born.'* Thou wilt make reparation, sayest Thou, in Thy Heaven .' Well, no doubt it is very beautiful, but perhaps it is not so beautiful that we shall think our- selves sufiiciently compensated.' You see, my lord, I might talk like this — But if I were to bogii,, He too would not be silent, and with a single question He could crush me. ' Why did you go away ? ' He might ask me. ' Why did you not do your duty to your child,'' I, O fool, have untold children, you had only this one to whom you were nearest. You say in your defence that you did not act altogether selfishly, that you wanted to better her condition as well. Maybe, but you did think oiyour own, of yourself 2iS v'ell, and that a father may not do ! I warned you by your own life, and by caus- ing your conscience and presentiments to speak to you — why did you not obey Me } Besides you would not have st to me i may w child's ' "Yes "We] certainl; lord .? " This answer, consolal his sensi deeply i speedy r the one of his sir without, remove for "his fort rece Not u his brotli through, and his muttered sank hen The ( lines, of '•»,*■ igg7gaK,Lr.>'T>T'v''f..'*r«'ttTS^teS£i.it;dflaEiflw». 71IE cniEF/i 's rrcE. "^l^j have starved liere? \'()u see, in\' lord. He might Uilk to mo in tliis wav, and lie would beriidit, for a fatlier may not think ot" hiniselt" for one instant when his child's welfare is concerned. Isn't that so?" "Yes, that is so ! " answered Sendlingen, solemnly. "Well, that is why I sometimes think you should certainly go to confession ! What do y(,)u advise, my lord ? " This time, too, Sendlingen could Ihid no relevant answer, much as he tried to seek the right words of consolation for this troubled heart. He strove to lessen his sense of guilt, that sensitive feeling which had so deeply moved him, and Ihially assured him also of a speedy release. But Novyrok's face remained clouded ; the one thing which he had wished to hear, a decision of his singular '' controversy" with " Him, "he had to do without, and when .Sendlingen rang for the turnkey to remove the prisoner, the latter expressed his gratitude for "his lordship's friendliness," but not for any com- fort received. Not until he had departed did Sendlingen take up his brother-in-law's letter, which he meant hastily to run through. But after a few lines he grew more attentive, and his looks became overcast. "And this, too," he muttered, after he had read to the end, and his head sank heavilv on his l)reast. The Count informed hin), after a few introductory lines, of the purport of a conversation he had just had Hi X ■A \ i8o THE ClflKF-JUSTICE. if with the Minister of Justice. "You know his opinion,'* said the letter, "He honestly desires your welfare, and a better proof of this than your appointment to Pfalicz he could not have given you. All the more pained, nay, angered, is he at your obstinate disregard of his wishes. He told you in plain language that he did nr/. desire you and Dernegg to take part in any political investigations. You have none the less ob- served the same arrangement in the present investiga- tion against the workmen. I warn you, Victor, not for the first time, but for the last. You are trifling with your future ; far more important people than chief- judges, however able, are now being sent to the right- about in Austria. The anger of the Minister is all the greater, because your defiance this time is notorious. Scarcely a fortnight ago, the Supreme Court instructed you to undertake the brief examination of a witness ; you handed the matter over to Hochc, and excused yourself on the plea of the pressure of your regular work ; and yet this work now suddenly allows you personally to conduct a complicated inquiry against some three dozen workmen." The letter continued in this strain at great length, and concluded thus : "I implore you to assign the inquiry tt) Werner, and to telegraph me to this effect to-day. If this is not dont.. you will to-morrow receive a teleg^ram from the Minister commanding you to do so. And if you don't obey then, the conse- quei ces will be at once fatal to you. You know that I 1 THE CHIEF-JUSTJCE. l8i am no lover of the melodramatic, and will therefore weigh well what I have said." His brother-in-law — and Sendlingcn knew it — cer- tainly never affected a melodramatic tone, and often as he had warned him, he had never before wriitcn in such a key. What should he do .? It was against his conscience to submit and leave these poor fellows to their fate ; but might he concern himself more about men who were strangers to him, than about the well- being of his own child .^ If he did not yield, would he not perhaps be suddenly removed from his office, and just at the moment when his unhappy daughter most of all required his help.^ He went to his residence in a state of grievous interior conflict, impotently drawn from one resolve to another. He sighed with relief when Berger entered ; his shrewd, discreet friend could not have come at a more opportune moment. But he, too, found it difficult to hit upon the right counsel, or at least to put it into words. "Don't let us confuse ourselves, Victor," he saiil at length. "First of all you know as well as I do, that the Min- ister has no right to put such a command ujx)!! you. You are responsible to him that every trial in your court is conducted with proper formalities ; the power to arrange for this is in your hands. And therefore they dare not seriously punish your insistence on your manifest right. Dismissal on such a pretext is improb- r M l! li 182 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. able, and almost inconceivable, especially when there is question of a man of your name and services." " But it is possible," "Anything is possible in these days/" Berger was obliged to admit. " But ought this remote possibility to mislead you? You would certainly not hesitate a moment, if consideration for your child did not fetter vou. Should this consideration be more authoritative than every other? In my opinion, no ! " "Because you cannot understand my feelings 1 " Sendlingen vehemently interposed. "A father may not think of himself when his child's welfare is con- cerned. The voice of nature speaks thus in the breast of every man, even the roughest, and should it be silent in me ? " "My poor friend," said Berger, "in your heart, too, it has surely spoken loud enough. And yet, so far you have not hesitated for a moment to fulfil your duty as a judge when it came into conflict with your inclina- tion. You would not preside at the trial, you would not conduct the examination. The struggle is entering on a new phase, you cannot act differently now. " " I must ! I cannot help these poor people — besides Werner himself will hardly be able to find them guilty. And the cases are not parallel ! I should have broken my oath if I had presided at the trial. I do not break it if I obey the ^Minister's command." ' ' That is true, " retorted Berger. ' ' But I can only say : THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 183 Seek some other consolation. Victor; this is unworthy of you ! For you have ahvciys been, Hke me, of the opinion that it is every mans duty to protect the right, and prevent wrong-, so long as there is breath in his body ! . . . If I admonish you, it is not from any fanatical love of justice, but from friendship for you, and because I know you as well as one man can ever know another. Your mind could endure anything, even the most grievous suffering, anything save one thing: the consciousness of having done an injustice, however slight. If you submit, and if these men are condemned even to a few years* imprisonment, their fate would prey upon your mind as murder would on anyone else. This I know, and I would warn you against it as strongly as I can. , . Let us look at the worst that could iiappen, the scarcely conceivable pros- pect of your dismissal. What serious effect could this have upon the fate of your child ? You, perhaps, cling to the hope of yourself imparting to her the result of the appeal. That is no light matter, but it is 'not so grave as the quiet of your conscience. It can have no other effect. If the purport of the decision is a brief imprisonment, you could ha'''e no further influence upon her destiny, whether you were in oftice or not ; she would be taken to some criminal prison, and you would have to wait till her term of imprisonment was over before you could care for her. If the terms of the decision are imprisonment for life, or death (you see, I W !^ \ \ 1 f f % : % n 1 84 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. ',*'i will not be so cowardly as not to face the worst), the only course left open to you is to discover all to the Emperor, and implore his pardon for your child. Is there anything else to be done ? " Sendlingen was silent. "There is no other means of escape. And if ;t comes to this, if you have to sue for her pardon, it will assuredly be granted you, whether you are in office or not. It will be granted you on the score of humanity, of your services and of your family. It is inconceivable that this act of grace should be affected by the fact that you have just previously had a dispute with the Minister of Justice. It is against reason, still more against sentiment. The young prince is of a chivalrous disposition." "That he is!" replied Sendlingen. "And it is not this consideration that makes me hesitate. I had hardly thought of it. It was quite another idea . . , Thank you, George," he added. "Let us decide to- morrow, let us sleep upon it." lie said this with such a bitter, despairing smile, that his friend was cut to the heart. The next morning when Berger was sitting in his rooms engaged upon some pressing work, the door was suddenly flung open and Sendlingen's servant Franz entered. Berger started to his feet, and could scarcely bring himself to ask whether any calamity had occurred. THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 185 "Very likely it is a calamity," replied the old man, continuing in his peculiar fashion of speech which had become so much a habit with him that he could never get out of it. "We were taken ill again in Chambers, very likely we fell down several times as before, we came iiome deadly pale, but did not send in for the doctcM-, but for you, sir." Berger started at once, Franz following behind him. As they went along, Berger fancied he heard a sob. Me looked round, there were tears in the old servant's eyes. When they got into the residence, Berger turned to him and said : " Be a man, Franz." Then the old fellow could contain himself no longer ; bright tears coursed down his cheeks. "Dr. Berger," he stammered. He had bent over his hand and kissed it before Berger could prevent him. "Have pity on me ! " Tell me what has been going on the last two months ! We often speak to Brigitta about it — I am told nothing ! Why .? We know that this silence is killing me. I could long ago have learned it by listen- ing and spying, but P'ranz doesn't do that sort of thing. If you cannot tell me, at least put in a word for me. Surely, we do not vant to kill me!" Berger laid his hand on his shoulder. "Be calm, Franz, we have all heavy burdens to bear." He then went into Sendlingen's room. "The Min- ister's telegram .' ' he asked. "Worse!'" . \ ■ '•' i V IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) <5- 1.0 I.I ^■-^ illllM 12 5 B III 2.2 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1 == 1 1.6 ■^ 6" ► V] (9 /a O el e. ^A o /. /; /I / /^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY 14380 I 716) 873-4503 y c^. Q'- Wr i! i : i 186 / II E CHIEF JUS TICE. " The decision ? —What is the result ? " The (juestion was supei thious ; the result was plainly enough written in Sendlingen's livid, distorted features. Berger, trem- bling in every lind), seized the fatal papers that lay on the table. ' ' Horrible ! " he groaned — it was a sentence of death. He forced himself to read the motives given ; they were brielly enough put. The Supreme Court hau rejected the appeal to nullify the trial, although the credibility of the servant-girl had ai)peared doubtful enough to it, too. At the same time, the decision con- tinued, there was no reason for ordering a new trial, as the guilt ot the accused was manifest without any of the evitlence of this witness. The Supreme Court had gone through this without noticing either her recent statements incriminatiuir the accused nor her first favourable evidence. The Countess' depositions alone, therefore, must determine Victorine's conduct before tlie deed, and her motives for the deed, These seemed suflicient to the Supreme Court, not to alter the sentenc" of (U*ath. For a long time Berger held the paper in his hands as if stunned; at length he went over to his unhappy friend, hud his arms round his neck and gently lifted his face up towards hnn. But when he lookod into that face, the courage to say a word of consolation left him. He stepped to the window and stood there for perhaps THE CHIEFJUSriCE. 187 half an hour. Then he said softly, " I will come hack this evening^," and left the room. Towards evcnini^ he receivetl a few lines from his friend. Sendlingen asked him not to come till to-mor- row, hy that time he hoped to have recovered sufficient composure to discuss (juietly the next steps to be taken. He was of opinion that Herj^^er should address a petition for pardon to the Emperor, and asked him to draw up a sketch of it. Berger read of this request with astonishment. Me would certainly have lodL,^ed a petition for pardon, even if Victorine Lippert had been simply his client and not Sendling-en's daughter. He would have done it more from a sense of duty than in the hope of success. That this hope was slii^ht he well knew. The petition would have to take its course throug'h the Sujireme Court, and it was in the nature of the case that the recommendatit)n of the Highest Tribunal would be authoritative with the Kmperor : exceptions had occurred, but tiieir num- ber was assuredly not sufficient to justify any confident hopes. All this Sendlingen must know as well as him- self. Why, therefore, did he wish that the attempt should be made .'' In this desperate state of things, there was but one course that jiromised salvation : a personal audience witli the Kmperor. Why did ."^eiul- lingen hesitate to choose this course ."* Berger made up his mind to lay all this strongly be- fore him, and when on the next day he rang the bell of 'I H i88 THE CHIEF-JUST/Ci:. V M the residence, lie was tletcrrniiu'd not to leave him until he had induced hitn to take this step. " We are still in Chambers," annouiicrd Franz. "We want you to wait here a little. Wc have hern examin- ing workmen ai^ain since this morniuL,^ early and have hardly allowed ourselves ten miiiutos tor food." " So he has none the less resolved to go on with that? "said Merger. Perhaps, he tlu)Ught to himself, the telegram has not arrived yet. "None the less resolved.' " cried Franz. "We have perhaps seldom worked away with such resolution, and Baron Derneijfi; too, was dictating; to-day — 1 sa^ it with all resj)ect — like one ])ossrssed. " Berj^er turned to i^^o. It occuneuli- sorrow . . Iliil we shall sec that we arc not deceived in n\c. , . 1 have a lavoiir lo ask. Dr. pMrL^iT. Hrijj^itta has the i)ri\ile^^e naturally, because she is a woman and a nieMd)er of the ' Women's . Society. lUit 1, what can 1 appeal to .-' ("ertainl\" I have, in a way, been in the law lor twenty-li\'e years, and un I- 5 If t ^ i li 190 THE CHIEI'-JUSTICE. but not to mention tlie result of the appeal by a single word. But when he entered her cell, she came joyfully to meet him, her eyes Ljlistening with tears. " How shall I thank you.?" she cried, much moved, trying to take his hand. He fell back a step. " Thank me? — What for.? " " Oh, I know," she said softly, with a look at the door as if an eavesdropper might have been there. " My father told me that it was not official yet. He hurried to me this morning as soon as he had received the news, but it is still only private information, and for the present I must tell nobody ! Whom else have I to thank but you } " "What.? " he asked. And he added with an unsteady voice: "I have not seen him for the last few days. Has he had news from Vienna? " " To be sure ! The Supreme Court has pardoned me. My imprisonment during trial fs to be considered as punishment. In a few weeks I shall be quite free." Berger felt all the blood rush to his heart. "Quite free ! " he repeated faintly. " In a few weeks ! " And at the same time he was tortured by the importunate question: "Great God! he has surely gone mad? How could he do this? What is his object? " " Merciful Heaven ! " she cried. " How pale you have turned. How sombre you look ! Merciful Heaven ! you have not received other news ? He has THE c.v// A/'-yi' \s rici:. 191 single Lilly to V shall to take ? " at the there, t. He jceived )n, and e have isteady ,v days. rdoned sidered e free." ' Quite And )rtunate mad ? [lie you rierciful He has surely not been deceived ? Oh, il" I had to die after all — now — now — " She staj^^j^^ered. Bergcr took her hand and made her sink down on to the nearest chair. "I have no other news," he said as tirmiy as possible. " It came upon me with such a sliock ! I am surprised that he has not yet told me anything. But then, of course, he did not hear of it till to-day. If he has told you, you can, of course, look upon it as certain." "May I not.-* " She sijj^hed with relief. "I need not tremble any more.' Oh, how you frightened me ! " " Forgive me — calm yourself! He took up his hat again. "Are you going already.^ And I have not yet half thanked you! " Don't mention it ! " he said curtly, parrying her remark. " Au revoir," he added with more friend- liness, and leaving the cell, hurried to Sendlingen's residence. He had just come in ; Berger approached him in great excitement. " I have just been to see Victorine," he began. " How could you tell this untruth? How could you ? Sendlingcn cast down his eyes. " F had to do it. I was afraid that otherwise the news of her condemna- tion might reach her." " No," cried Berger. " Forgive my vehemence," he then continued. " I have reason for it. Such empty ;j 19a THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. pretexts are unworthy of you and me. You yourself see to the rcguhition of the courts and the prison. The accused never hear their sentence until they are otlicially informed. " " Vou do me an injustice," replied Sendlingen, his voice still trembling, and it was not till he went on that he recovered himself : "I have no particular reasons that I ought or want to hide from you. I told her in an ebullition of feeling that I can hardly account for to myself. When I saw her to-day she was much sadder, much more hopeless, than has been usual with her lately. She certainly had a presentiment — and I, in my flurry at this, feared that some report might already have reached her. Such a thing, in spite of all regulations, is not inconceivable, chance often plays strange pranks. In my eager desire to comfort her, those words escaped me. The exultation with which she received them robbed me of the courage to lessen their favourable import afterwards ! Tliat is all ! " Berger looked down silently for a while. " I will not reproach you," he then resumed. " How fatal this imi^rudence may prove you can sec as well as I. She was prepared for the worst, and therefore anything not so bad miglit perhaps have seemed like a favour of Heaven. Now she is expecting the best, and whatever may be obtained for her by way of grace, it will cer- tainly dishearten and dispirit her. But there is no help for it now ! Let us talk of what we can help ! You THE CHIEF JUSTICE. '93 want me to lodge a petition for pardon ? It would be labour in vain ! "Well," said Sendlingen hesitatingly, "in some cases the Emperor has revoked the sentence of death in spite of the decision of the Supreme Court." " Yes, but we dared not build on this hope if we had no other. Fortunately this is the casr. You must go to Vienna, only on your personal intercession is the pardon a certainty. And my petition could at best only get the sentence commuted to imprisonment for life, whereas your prayer would obtain a shorter im^ prisonment and, after a few years, remissior of the remainder. You must go to-morrow, Victor — there is no time to lose." Sendlingen turned away without a word. "How am I to understand this.?" cried Berger anxiously approaching him. "You will uoiV The poor wretch groaned aloud. "I will " he exclaimed. " But later on — later on. As soon as your petition has been dispatched." "But why .? ' cried Berger. " I have hitherto appre- ciated and sympathised with your every sentiment and act, but this delay strikes me as being unreasonable, unpardonable. I would spare you if less depended on the cast, but, as it is, I will speak out. It is unmanly, it is — " He paused. ''Spare me having to say this to you, to you who were always so brave and resolute. There is no time to lose, I repeat. Who will vouch ^6 I i' :< il I , n;4 y y/A cm hi -JUS tice. liiat it may not then be too lale? II" my pcliti»)n is rejected, the Court will at the same time order the sentence to be carried out. Do you Uncnv s(j certainly that you will still be here then, that you will still have time then to hurry to Vienna ? Think I — Think ! " Ber^a'r hiid been talking excitedly, and i)aused out of breath, liut he was resolved not to yield, and was about to begin again when .Sendlingen said: " Vou have convinced me; I will go to Vienna sooner, even before the dispatch of your petition." "Then you still insist that I shall proceed with it.?" " Please ; it can do no harm ; it may do good. And at least we shall gain time by it. I cannot undertake the journey to Vienna until the inquiry against the working men is ended. In this, too, there is not a day to be lost ; neither Dernegg nor I know whether there is not an order on the road that may in some way make us harmless. I trust we shall have by that time succeeded in proving that no punishable offence has been committed. I have received the iNIinistcr's telegram to-day, and at once replied that the inquiry was so complicated, and had already proceeded so far, that a change in the examining judges would be imprac- tical) le." " I am glad that you have followed my advice," said Berger ; "and in spite of these aggravated conditions! You hesitated as long as the decision was not known to you, as long as you simply feared it, and when your )n IS r the aiuly have )ut of . was " You even ,h it ? " And lertakc ist the L a day r there y make time ce has X cgram .V as so that a mpiac- ?," said ilions ! known 2n your THE CHIEF-JUS TICE. «95 fears were confirmed, you were l)rave again, and did not hesitate for an instant in doing your duty as an honourable man ! — Victor, few people would have done the like ! " He reached out his hand to say good-bye. "Von have now taken old Franz into your conti- dence?" he asked, " another participator in the secret — it would have been well to consider it first I But I will not begin to scold again. Adieu 1 " \\ \ I ■.1' t!i 1' 5 196 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 1 il- J i ' CHAPTER XI. More than two weeks liad passctl since this last inter- view. January of 1853 was drawin<^ to a close and still there seemed no likclikood of an end to the inves- tigations against the workmen. Berger observed this with great anxiety. He had long since piesented the jietition for pardon ; the time was drawing near when it would be laid before the Empert)r, and yet, whenever the subject of the journey to Vienna arose, Scndiingen had some reason or motive for urging that he could not leave, and that there was vStill time. When he made such a remark Herger looked at him searchingly, as if he were trying to read his inmost soul, and then departed sadly, shaking his head. Every day Sendlingen's conduct seemed to him more eniofmatical and unnatural. For this was the one means of saving Victorine's life ! If he still hesitated, it could only proceed from fear of the agony of the moment, from cowardice ! But as often as Berger might and did say this to himself; he did not succeed in convincing himself. For did not Sendlingcn at the same time evince in an- other matter, and where the welfare and sufferings of strangers to him were concerned, a moral courage THE CHIEF- J I 'S r/L E. 1 97 .() lis to imsclf. in an- il [^s of )urage I rarely found in this country and umler this govern- ment. Tlie conflict hetwecn Scndlingen aiul the Minister of Justice had gradually assumed a very singular char- acter ; it had become a ' ' thoroughly Austrian business, " as Bertjer sometimes thouirht with the bitter smile of a patriot. To Sendlingens resi)ectful but decided answer the Minister had replied as rudely and laconically as possible, commanding Imn to hand over the investiga- tion forthwith to Werner No one could now doubt any longer that a ^' ■ ther lefusr.'i would prove (.langer- ous, and Scndlingen sent ' is rejoinder, — a brief, dignitietl protest against this uuii.stifiable encroachment — with the feeling that he had at the same lime undersigned his own tlismissal. And, indeed. In ai.} other C(juntry a violent solution would Ijave been the only one con- ceivable : i)ut here it was different. Certainly, a severe censure from the Minister followed, and he talked of "further steps"' to be taken, but the light- ning that one might have expected after this thunder, did not follow. The same result was, however, sought by circuitous means, attempts were made to weary the twojutlges, and to jnit them out of conceit with *.he case. When they proposed to the Court that the case against one of the accused might be discontinued, the Crown-Advocate promptly o])posed it, and called the Supreme Covrt to his assistance. With all that, the police were feverishly busy and overwhelmed the two w \ \ I I i t I »iir ! I w , • • I w. 198 TffE CHIEF-JUSTICE. judges by repeatedly bringing forv/ard new grounds of suspicion against the prisoners, and these had to be gone through, however evidently worthless they might be at the first glance. There was not a single person attached to the Law Courts, with all their diversity of character, who did not follow the struggle of Sendlingen for the indepen- dence of the judge's position with sympathy, and the townspeople were unanimous in their enthusiastic ad- miration. This courageous steadfastness was all the more highly reckoned as it was visibly undermining his strength. His hair grew grey, his bearing less erect, and his face now almost always bore an expres- sion of melancholy disquiet. People were not surprised at this ; it must naturally deeply afflict this man who was sc manifestly designed to attain the highest places in his profession, perhaps even to become the chief judge of the Empire — to be daily and hourly threatened with dismissal. Only the three participators in the secret, and Ber- ger, in particular, knew that the unhappy man could scarcely endure any longer the torture of uncertainty about his child's fate. All the more energetic, there- fore, were Berger's attempts to put an end at least to this unnecessary torment, but again and again he spoke in vain. This occurred, too, on the last day in January. Send- lingen stood by his answer : "There is still time, the 9 ; THE ClIIEI'JUSTICE, 199 petition has not yet come into the lunpeior'h hands," and IJerger was soiri •wfuily alMuit to leave his cham- bers, when the (h)or was suddenly tlung open and Ilerr von Werner rushed in. " IMy lord," cried the old gentleman almost beside himself with joy and waving a large open letter in his hand like a Hag, '• 1 have just received this; this has just been handed to me. It means that 1 am appointed your successor, it is the decree." Sendlingen turned pale, " I congratulate you," he said with difficulty. " When are you to take over the conduct of the Courts .^ " "On the 22nd February," was the answer. "Oh, how happy I am ! And you I am sure will excuse me ! Why should the news distress you.'' You will in any case be leaving here at the end of February to — " He stopped in embarrassment. "To go to Pfalicz as Chicf-fusticc of the Hi him. To the Minister I am already a dead man ! But what can it matter to me in my position ? Werner's communication only frightened me for a moment, while I feared tliat I had to surrender to him forthwith. But the 22nd February — that is three weeks hence. By that 'Jme everything will be decided." Two days later, on Candlemas day, on which, in some parts of Catholic Austria, people still observe the custom of paying one another little attentions, Send- lingen also received a present from the Minister. The letter read thus : "You are to surrender the conduct of the Courts on the 22nd February to the newly-ap- pointed Chief-Justice, Herr von Werner. Further in- structions regarding yourself will be forwarded you in due course." The tone of this letter spoke plainly enough. For "further instructions" were unnecessary if the pre- vious arrangement — his appointment to Pfalicz — was adhered to. His dismissal "as manifestly decreed. All the functionaries of the Courts fell into the greatest state of excitement : who was safe if Send- lingen fell ? And wherever the news penetrated, it aroused sorrow and indignation. On the evening of the same day the most prominent men of the town met so as to arrange ix/ete to their Chief-Justice before his departure. It was determined to present him with an address and to have a farewell ban(]uet. Berger, who had been at the meeting, left as soon as THE CnrEF-JUSTlCE. 201 For pre- the >end- ?d, it >g of town jfore with >n as the resolution was arrived at, and hurried to Sendlingcn, for he knew that his friend wiudd need his consola- tion to-day most of all. But Sendlingen was so calm that it struck Berber as almost peculiar, " I have had time to get accustomed to these thoughts," he said " How do you think of livinc- now ? "' asked Berger. " I shall move to Gratz,' replied Sendlingen quickly; he had manifestly given utterance to a long- cherished resolve. "Won't you be too lonely there ?" objected Berger. "Why won't you go to Vienna ? By the inheritance from, your wife, you are a rich man who docs not require to select the Pensionopolis on the Mur on account of its cheapness. In Vienna you have many friends, there you will have the greatest incitement to literary work ; besides, you may not altogether disappear from the surface. Your career is only forcil)ly interrupted but not nearly ended. A change of system, or even a change in the members of the Ministry, would bring you back into the service of the State, and perhaps to a higher position than the one you are now losing." " My mine, is made up. Brigitta is going to Gratz in a few days to take a house and make all arrange- ments. " They talked about other things, about the /t'/f that had been airanged to-day. " I will accept the address," Sendlingen explained, "but not the banquet. I have 1 1 I '1 M ':!!P!!!I! ' '<: .1 II! ■M 202 TY//-: CHIEF JUSTICE. not the heart for it. " Beri^t-r vehemently opposed t!iis resoUition : he must force himself to put in £in appcai- ance at least for an hour ; the fete had reference not only to himself personally, but to a sacred cause, the independence of jud.Li^es. All this he unfolded with such warmth that Sendlingen at lengtli promised that he would consider it. The next morning the Vienna papers published the news of the measures taken with regard to Sendlingen, which they had learnt by private telegram.s. A severe censorship hampered the Austrian press in those days ; the papers had been obliged to accustom the public to read more between the lines than the lines themselves ; and this time, too, they hit upon a safe method of criticism. As if by a preconcerted agreement all the papers pronounced the news highly mcredible ; and that it was, moreover, wicked to attribute such conduct to the strict but just government which Austria enjoyed. A severer condemnation than this defence of the govern- ment against ' manifestly malicious reports " could not easily be imagined, and the public understood it as it was intended. In a moment, Scndlingen's name was in every mouth, and the investigation agrunst the workmen the talk of the day, first in the capital, soon throughout the whole country. A flood of telegrams and letters, inquiries and enthu- siastic commendations, suddenly burst upon Send- lingen. Had there been room in his poor heart, in his ed tliis appcar- ice not ISC, the 'd with ed that led the IHngeii, severe e days ; iblic to iselves ; thod of all the le ; and I '^onduct joyed. ovcrn- Id not t as it every len the out the enthu- Send- in his THE cinF.F-jrsricE. 203 weary, tonvicnted hrain, for aii\- iiicid ihoiij^ht or feel- inj^ he would now ha\'e boon aliio, in the dax's of his disgrace, to have held up liis head more proudly than ever. It was not s.'iving too nuich wiim ik'i'g-i.T loUl him that a whole nation v.'as now ^howing how highly it \alued iiini. But he scarcely noticed it and contin- ued, dcuk and hopeless, to tlo his duty antl to drag on the Sisyphus-task of his investigation in combat with both the pt)lice ami the Crown lav.-yers. Suddenly these hindrances ceased. When Sendlin- gen one morning entered his cha.mbers soon after the news of !iis deposal had appeared in the papers, he tor the lirst time, for weeks, found no information of the police on the table. That might be an accident, but when there was none the second (.lay, he breathed again. The Superintendent t)f Police at Bolosch was the zealous servant of his masters ; if he in twice twenty-four hours did not discover the slightest trace of high treason, there must be good reason for it. In the same w-ay n(.)lhing more was heard from the Crown- Advocate. "They have almost lost courage in the face of the general indign.ition ! " cried IJerger triumphantly. "Franz has just told me tliat Brigitta is to start the day after to-morrow for (Irat/.. F.et her wait a few days, and so spare the old lady having to make the journey to Pfalicz by the very ronndal)out way of Ciratz." " You cannot seriously hope that," said Sendlingen M ■ ■; IT ..Hi room ich she turbing tly ? " }s were lately. z, " said genuine ells so .'ars by e town lad laid eked it It was ried in of your inison, e been lly get v\rtily. •assure ( J ratz ud-bye I Meanwhile the exeitement into which the jiv'ss and the public were thrown by the " Sendlingen incident."' grew daily. In Bolosch new proposals were constantly being made, to have the fele on a magnificent ami micommon scale. It did not sa'isty the iiopular en- thusiasm that the address to b.' piesented was covered with thousands of signatures. A proposal was made in the town-council to call the principal street after Sendlingen : some of the prominent men of the town wanted to collect subscriptions for a '' vSendlingen Fund" whose revenue should be devoted to such officers of the State as. like Sendlingen, had beconie the victims of their faithfulness to conviction ; the Gymnastic societies resolved upon a torch-light procession. The chair- man of the committee arranging the festivities — he was the head of the first Banking-house of the town — was in genuine perplexity ; he still did not know which acts of homage Sendlingen would accept,and besought Berger's interposition. "Save me," implored the active banker, "People are pressing me and the Chief-Justice is dumb. Yester- day I hoped to get a definite answer from him, but he broke off and talked of our business." "Business.'' What business .'' asked Berger. "I am just doing a rather complicated piece of business for him, ".answered the banker. " I thought that you, his best friend, would have known about it. He is converting the Austrian Stock in which his prop- II !; li ] I 206 77/Zt" CHIEF-JUSTICE, crty was hitlierio invested, into French, English and Dutch stock, and a small portion of it into ready money." "Why?" ar^kcd Bert^er in surprise. " He is going to sta\' in Austria ? ' "So I asked,' replied tlie Banker, "and received an answer winch 1 had, willy-nilly, to take as pertinent. For he is hardly to be blamed, it after his experiences, his belieliii the credit of the State has become a little shaky. " lierg-er could not help aj^reeing with this, and there- fore did not reler to it in his talk with Sendliniren. With reg.ird to \.\\u wore lost. Hut it seems that the Minister talked to us more sharply than he thoui/ht. and that from the tiist he meant noih- ing serioirs. That he kept }'ou rather lon<^ in suspense, proved to be only a slij^ht re\'eng'e which was perhaps permissible. He meant no harm ; 1 feel myself in duty bound to say this to his eredit.' " "And your brother-in-law is a clever man," cried Berger, "and himself a judge! Does he not under- stand that this very explanation tells mt)stof all against the Minister ? Oh, I always said that it was anotlier thoroughly Austrian — " Aery of pain interrupted him. "What is this.-*" cried Sendlingen horror-struck and gazing in deadly pallor at the letter. Berger took the letter out of his trembling hands, in the next instant he too changed colour. His eye had lit upon the following passage : "When do you leave Bolosch .? I hope that the last duty that you have to do in your office, will not affect your soft heart too much. Certainly it is always pain- ful to order the execution of a woman, and especially such a young one, and perhaps you can leave the arrangement for the execution to your successor, who fortunately is made of sterner stuff." The letter fell from Berger's hands. "Oh, Victor — " he murmured. /•///•; (.-iiiEi- jrs rici:. 21 I n *' I)iiii"t .sav a \\<>i(l."' Sc'iulliii!/cMi Court at Bolosch, statint^ that t'lie I'hiiperor had rejectetl the petition for pardon lodj^ed by Counsel for the defence and that he had confirmed the sentence of death. The execution, according to the custom then prevailing, was to be carried out in eight da}'s. "I will not reproach you," said Bcrger, after he had glanced through the few lines. " Pnit now you must act. You must telegraph at once ti) the Imperial Chancellory, and ask for an audience for the day after to-morrow, the nineteenth, and to-morrow you must start for Vienna ! '' "I will do so," said Sendlingen, softly. "You tnusl do it!" cried Bergcr, "and I will see that you do. I will be back in the evening.'" When Berger returned at nightfall, PVanz said to him in the lobby: "Thank God, we are going to Vienna after all ! " and Sendlingen himself corroborated this. "1 have already received an answer : the audience is granted for the nineteenth. I have struggled severely with myself," he then added, and continued half aloud, ! , "sn^ssmm m ! 1 '■If -I* 3 212 7y/A CHIEFJUSTIC/:, in an nnsleady voice, as if he were talkinj^ to him- self : "I am a greater coward than I thouglit. How- ever fixed my resolve was, my courage failed me — and so I must go to Vienna." Berger asked no further questions, he was content with the promiiie. U? ■ \ \ I m J' Si! t Wi THE CHlEh-JUSTJCE. 21$ CHAPTER XII. The i8th February, 1853, was a clear, sunny day. At mid-day the snow melted, the air was mild ; there seemed a breath of spring on the country through which the train sped along, bearing the unhappy man to Vienna. But there was night in his heart, night before his eyes ; he sat in the corner of his carriage with closed lids, and only when the train stopped, did he start up as from sleep, look out at the name of the station, and, deeply sighing, fall back again into his melancholy brooding. Was the train too slow for him ? There were moments when he wished for the wings of a storm to carry him to his destination, and that the time which separated him from the decisive moment might have the speed of a storm. And in the next breath he agrin dreaded this moment, so that every second of tue day which separated him from it seemed like a refreshing gift of grace. Alas ! he hardly knew himself what he should desire, what he should entreat, and one feeling oidy remained in his changer, of mood, despair remained and spread her dark shadow over his heart aiid brain. The train stopped again, this time at a larger station. i :l . .'t I '' >i i 214 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 'ii '■% V '■ i: There were many people on the platform, something extraordinary must have happctied ; they were crowd- ing round the station-master, who held a paper in his hand and appeared to be talking- in the greatest excite- ment. The crowd only dispersed slowly as the train came in ; lingeringly and in eager talk, the travellers approached the carriages. Sendlingen looked out; the guard went up to the station-master, who offered him the paper ; it must have been a telegram. The man read it, fell back a step, turning pale, and cried out : "Impossible ! " upon which those standing around shrugged their shoulders. Sendlingen saw and heard all this ; but it did not penetrate his consciousness. " Heldenburg, " he said, murmuring the name of the station. "Two hours more." The train steamed off, up a hilly country, and, there- fore, with diminished speed. But to the unhappy man it was again going too swiftly— for each turn of the wheels was dragging him farther away from his child, for a sight of whose white face of suffering he was suddenly seized with a feverish longing, his poor child that now needed him most of all. " Fri a Pol. a student ! He belonged to a secret society and was chosen by lot ! " Two Tok'S protested, the Hungarian and an Italian joined them; bad language Hew all over the place; lists and sticks were raised ; the j^olice in vain tried to keep the peace. Then a smart little shoemaker's ap- prentice liit upon the magic word that quieted all. *' Ii was a Bohemian I " he screeched, "a journey- man tailor from I'ardubitz ! " In a moment a hundred \'oices were re-echoinsr this. This cry alone penetrated the gloomy reflections in which ^^endlingen was enshrouded, but he only thought for rin instant : ■• rrobal)ly some particularly atrocious murder." and tlien continued the dark train of his thoughts. Now he tried to rouse himself, to cheer him- self bv new hopes, and he strove hard to think the Solution of wliich Berger had spoken credible. He clung to it, he pi-ctured the whole scene — it was the one comfort left to Ids uidia]ipy mind. He chose the words bv whicli he would move his Prince's heart, and as tlie unutterable misery of the last few months, the immeasurable torment of his present position once more rose before him. he was seized with pity for him- self and his eyes moistened — assuredly ! the Emperor, :1 ^\ TUF. C ////:/■-/ 1 \S 7 7C 'F.. 221 too, could not fail to l>c touchrd. he would hear him and s/raiit him the lik; o! his child. Not alto'j;clhcr, he could not possibly do that, hut ])erhai)shc wouhi l)clic\'0 livin": words rather than dead documentarv evidence and would see that the |n)or creature was deserxiui^ t)f a milder punishment. — And when her term of jKuiish- mcnt was over, oh I how ^;ladly lie would cast trom him all the pomp and dignity of the world and journey with her irdo a foreign hind where her i)ast was not known — how he would sacrifice everything to establish her in a new life, in new happiness. . . A consoling picture rose before him : a quiet, country seat, apart from the stream of the world, far, far away, in France or in Holland. Shady trees clustered around a small house, and on the verandah there sat a young woman, still pale and with an expression of deep seriousness in her face, but her eyes were brighter already, and there was a look about her mouth as if Jt could learn to smile again. "Vienna ! " The train sto]iped ; on the platform there was the same swaying, surging crowd as at the suburb, but it was much quieter, for the police prevented all shouting and forming into groups. Sendlingen did not notice how very strongly the station was guarded. The con- soling picture he had conjured up was still l)efore his mind; like a somnambulist he pushed through the crowd and got into a cab. " To the Savage," he called to the i l\ i 232 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. driver ; he gave the order mechanically, from force of habit, for he always stayed at this hotel. The shadows of the dusk liad fallen upon the streets as the cab drove out of the station, the lamps' red glim- mer was visible through the damp evening mist that had followed upon the sunny day. Sendlingen leant back in th'e cushions and closed his eyes to continue his dream ; he did not notice what an unusual stir there was in the streets. It was as if the whole population was making its way to the heart of the city ; the vehi- cles moved in long rows, the pedestrians streamed along in dense masses. There was no shouting, no loud word, but the murmur of the thousands excitedly tramping along, was joined to a strange hollow buzz that floated unceasingly in the air, and grew stronger and stronger as the carriage neared the centre of the town. More and more police were visible, and at the glacis there was even a battalion at attention, ready for attack at a moment's notice. Even this Sendlingen did not notice, it hardly entered his mind that the cab was driving much more slowly than usual. That picture of his brain was still before him and hope had visited his heart again. "Courage ! " he whispered to !iim2clf. "One night more of this torment — and then she is saved ! He is the only human being who can help us, and he will help us." His cab had at length made way through the crowd that poured in an ever denser throng across the Stef- THE CHIKF-JUSTTCE. 223 ansplatz and up the Grabcn towards the Imperial Palace — and it was able io turn into the Kartnerstrasse. It drew up before the hotel. The hall-porters darted out and helped Sendlingen to ali<^ht, the proprietor himself hurried forward and bowed low when he recog- nised him. "His Lordship, the Chief Justice!" he cried. " Rooms 7 and 8. What does your Lordship say to this calamity.? It has quite dazed me ! " "What has happened.?" asked Sendlingen. " Your Lordship does not know.? " cried the landlord in amazement. "That is almost impossible! A jour- neyman tailor from Hungary, Johann Libenyi, at- tempted His Majesty's life to-day at the Glacis. The dagger of the miscreant struck the Emperor in the neck. His Majesty is severely wounded, if it had not been for the presence of mind of the butcher, Ettenreich — " He stopped abruptly. "What is the matter! " he cried darting towards Sendlingen. Sendlingen tottered, and but for his help would have fallen to the ground. ' II 1 1 ^ I 224 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. 1.1 -A \>\ wu if n w ■ y ■ f li i i" ii I CHAFPER XIII. ( ).\ the evening;;- of ihc next ilay C'ouiil Karolberg, Scndliug'cn's brotiicr-in-lavv, entcretl liis room at the hotel. ■•Well, here you are at last I " he eried, still in the cloor-wa}-. " Is this the way {o '^n on after a bad attaek of the heart on ihe evening- before .' Three times to-(.l;iy have I tried to <^ci hold of y(^u. ihe lirst time at nine in the morninij and vou had alreadv •j'onc out." " Thank you \'ery mueh I "" rejdied Sendlingen, "■ My anxiety for authentic news about the Kmiieror's con- dition. droN'e me or,; of doors betimes, and so I went to the Imperial C'lianeellery as early as was seemly. Ikit I only learnt what is in all the papers : that there was no dant^-er of his life, but that he would need quite three weeks of absolute rest to bring- about his complete recovery. Meanwhile the Cabinet is to see to all current ai'fr.i's : the .So\-ereign authority of the Kmperor is susperdcd, and none of the princes of the blood are to act as Regent during the illness." " I)Ut you surely did not in([uire about that," cried Count Karolberg in astonishment. " That goes without saying." "Goes without saying ! " muttered Sendlingen and for THE Ciniir-JUSTICE. 225 n moment his sclf-commaiid left him and his features became so listless and glo(jmy tliat his brother-in-law looked at him much concerned. " Victor ! " lie ^aid, " you are really ill ! You must see Oppolzer to-morrow. " "I cannot. 1 must go back to Bolosch to-night. I require tw<.) days at least to arrange the surrender of matters to my successor. But then I shall come back here at once." "Good! you are going to spend the week before entering on your new pt)sition here ; the Minister of Justice has just told me. It was very prudent of you to visit him at once." " It was only fitting that I should," said Scndlingen. Alas ! not from any motives of fitness or prudence had he gone to the Minister of Justice ; it was despair that drove him there after the information he got at the Chancellery, a remnant of a hope that by his help he might at least attain the postponement of the execution till the Emperor was better again. Not until he was in the Minister's ante-room, and had already been announced, did he recover his senses and recognize that the Minister could as little command a postponement as he himself, and so he kept silence. " He was very friendly to me ! " he added aloud. " He is completely reconciled to you," Count Karol- berg eagerly corroborated. "He spoke to me of your ill-health with the sincerest sympathy, and told me that 15 if '*'i 226 THE CUIEF-Jl 'S TICE. V- i nil you bail hinted at not accepting' the j)()st at Pfalicz but conternjihited retiring. I hope that is far from being your resolve ! If you retjuire a lengiliy cure somewhere in the South, lea\'e of absence would ])e suffic.'ent. How could you have the heart to renounce a career that smiles upon you as yours docs ? " "Of course," replied Scndlingeii. "I shall consider the subject thoroughly." lie then asked to be excused for a minute in order to write a teletrram to Bolosch. He sat down at the writing-table. He found the few words needed hard to choose. He crossed them out and altered them again and again — it was the first lie that that hand had ever set down. At length he had finished. The telegram read as follows : " George Berger. Bolosch. End desired as good as attained. Have procured postponement till recovery of decisive arbiter. Return to-morrow comforted. Victor." He then drove with Count Karolbcrg to his house and spent the evening there in the circle of his relations. He was (]uiet and cheerful as he used to be, a;ul when he took his leave of the ladv of the house to go to the station, he jokingly invited himself to dinner on the 22nd February. The weather had completely changed, since the morning heavy snow had Tailen ; the Bolosch train had to wait a long time at the next station, till the snow- .« lfM-!»'d.»«l*'-j1-,. THF. CHIEF JUSTICE. 227 plou^iis had cleared the line, and it was not till late next morning- that it reached its destination. Sendlingen, was deeply movcn that, notwithstanding-, the first face he saw on trettinic out of the train was that of his faithful friend. .\no your own v.'ay I " he said. " But it is not right to offend the pco[):e and then victimize yourself all night in a I 232 THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. train that stops at even the smallest stations." Then they talked of the political bearings, of the con- sequences which the crime of the i8th February, the act of a half-witted creature, might have on the freedom of Austria. Victorine's name was not mentioned by either of them this time. Sendlingen never closed his eyes all that night, although Herr Hoffmann had personally selected for him the best pillows in the hotel. It was a dark, wild night ; the snow alone gave a faint glimmer. An icy north- east wind whistled it' uild song through the streets, fit accompaniment to the thoughts of the sleepless man. Towards eight in the morning — it had just become daylight — he heard the sound of military music ; the band was playing a buoyant march. At the same time there was a knock at his door Mid Franz entered. The old man was completely broken down. "We must dress," he said. "The band of the Jagcrs and the choral society are about to serenade. Besides I sup- pose we have not slept ! " " Nor you either, Franz.? " "What does that matter! But we will not survive it ! " he groaned. " Oh ! that this day, that this night, were already past ! " "It must be, Franz." "Yes, it must be ! " The band came nearer and nearer. At the same time the footsteps, the laughter and shouts of a large crowd THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. ^IZ were audible. The old man listened. "That's the Radetzky March ! " ho said. "Ah! how merrily they are piping to our borrow." The procession had reached the hotel. "Three cheers for Sendlin

. o A .? / >^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 7-i WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY I4SB0 (716) 872-4503 ^^^ 38o THE CHIEF-JUSTICE. t M " I do doubt it," replied Sendlingen. ** I should take care that there was no room left for any question as to my sanity. Once more, and for the last time, I ask your Excellency to what Court am I to surrender myself? " Again the Minister for a long while paced helplessly up and down. At length a saving thought seemed to occur to him. "Be it so," he said? "Do what you cannot help doing; we, on the other hand, will do what our duty commands. You naturally want to conceal where your daughter is now living ? " Sendlingen turned still paler and made no reply. " But we shall endeavour to find out, even if it should cost thousands, and if we should have to employ all the police in the world. We shall find your daughter and demand her extradition. There is no state that would refuse to deliver a legally condemned murderess ! You must decide, my lord, whether this is to happen." Sendlingcn's face had grown deadly pale — a fit of shud- dering shook his limbs. There was a long silence in the room, it endurd perhaps five minutes. At length Sendlingen muttered : "I submit to your Excellency's will. May God for- give you what you have just done to me 1 " The Minister gave a sigh of relief. "I will take that on my conscience," he said. "I restore the father to his child. Farewell, my lord." li- THE CHIEFJUSTTCE. 281 Sendlini^cn did not take the proffered hand, he bowed silently and departed. Tu'o days later Dr. George Bcrger received a letter of Sendlingen's dated from Trieste. It briefly informed his friend of the purport of his interview with the Minister of Justice and concluded as follows : " It is denied me to expiate my crime : it is impossible to mc, a criminal, to go unpunished through life ; so I am going to meet death. When you read this, all will be over. Break the news to my daughter, who has already set out on her journey, as gently as possible ; hide the truth from her, I shall help you by the manner in which I am doing the deed. And do not forget Franz, he is waiting for me at Cologne. I was only able to get quit of him under a pretext. Farewell, thou good and faithful friend, and do not condemn me. You once said to mc : there must be a solution of these com- plications, a liberating solution. I do not know if there was any other, any better than that which has come to pass. For see, my child has received her just due and so, too, has Justice : with a higher price than that of his lire, nobody can atone for a crime. And I — I have seen my child's happiness, T have honourably paid all my debts, and now I shall find peace forever— I too have received my due ! And now I may hope for your respect again ! " Farewell ! and thanks a thousand times ! "Victor." 282 THE CHfEFJUSTICE. Berger, deeply moved, had just finished reading this letter, when his clerk entered with the morning paper in his hand. "Have you read this, sir ? " he asked. "Baron Sendlingen." He laid the paper before his chief and this was what was in it : "A telegram from Vienna brings us the sad news that Baron von Sendlingen, the retired Chief-Justice and one of the most highly esteemed men in Austria, fell over- board while proceeding by the Lloyd steamer last night from Trieste to Venice. lie was on deck late in the evening, and has not been seen since ; very likely while leaning too far over the bulwarks a sudden giddiness may have seized him, so that he fell into the sea and disappeared. The idea of suicide cannot for personal reasons be entertained for a moment ; the last person he spoke to, the captain of the steamer, testifies to the cheerful demeanour of the deceased. He leaves no family, but everyone who knew him will mourn hin\. Honour his memory !" "Honour his memory!" muttered Berger, burying his face in his hands. j> I 'I , f .of h±^N.ts.^ THE GREAT \\m& M .In InvnUiable Fitod . .«,».. -. .. . -. -» „ <» o> iiritivs tVdiii I lie oil tin" systi'ni.foi rcc t in j; Acid- ity, 1111(1 ciiiinji IJilioiisiK'Ss, DysiK'i'siH. SicU Hcad- iiclii'. Consti|iiiii()ii, Hliriminti.-ini, Drups), Dry Skill. Dizziiicas, JiiiiiKiicc, Heartburn. Norvous [luid (iciieral Dchiliiy, ,'~^iiU IlluMini, Erysipelas, Si'idfiihi, etc. It imrilies and er'idieates from the Miood ail poisonous iiiiinor. '( SECOND EDITION. <( A Daughter of St. Peter's" By Janet C. Conger. (Mrs. Wm. Cox Allen.) In Paper Cover, 30 OiitH. Cloth 50 Lovell's Canadian Authors' Series, No 60. The authoress is a Canadian, and her story i.s remarkably well told. — Advertiser. London. In this work a new aspirant for literary honors in the field of fiction makes her first appearance before the public. The story which she tells is neither lengthy nor involved. It is a simple, prettily told story of love at first sight, with a happy ending, and little to divert the mind of the reader from the hero and heroine. Mrs. Conger's literary style is pleasing, and her production evidences a well cultured mind and a tolerable appreciation of character. Her book will be found very pleasant reading. — '■'^Intelligencer,^'' Belleville. The plot is ingeniously constructed, and its working out furnishes the opportunity for some dramatic situations. The heroine, of whose early life the title gives us a hint, is creature all grace and tenderness, a true offspring of the sunny south. The hero is an American, a man of wealth, and an artist in />osse. The other dramatis personae, who play their parts around these central figures, are mostly Italians or Americans. The great question to be solved is : Who is Merlina ? In supplying the solution, the author takes occasion to introduce us to an obscure but interesting class of people. The denouement of "A Daughter of St. Peter's" is somewhat startling, but we must not imp'air the reader's pleasure by anticipation. We see from tlie advanced sheets that it is dedicated to the Canadian public, to whom we cordially commend it. — 'JAe Gazette, Montreal. For a first eiTort, which the authoress in her preface modestly says the novel is, "A Daughter of St. Peter's" must be pronounced a very promising achievement. The plot is well constructed and the story entertaining and well told. The style is light and agreeable, and with a little more experience and facility in novel-writing we may expect Mrs. Conger, if she essays a second trial, to produce a book that will surpass the decided merits of " A Daughter of St, Peter's." — Free Press ^ London. \ II LOVELL'S' CANADIAN COPYRIGHT SERIES OIF CHOICE I'ICTIOlsr. I The Series now numbers over 60 books, and contains the latest novels of such well-known authors as Ouida, The Duchess, Geo. Manville Feun, Rosa Nouchette Carey, Florence Marryat, A. Conan Doyle, Gteorg Ebers, James Payn, Miss Braddon, Frank Barret, Mrs. Alexander, Edna Lyall, Kathcrine S. Macquoid, Q. M- Robins, G- A. Henty, Adeline Sergeant, Mona Caird, John Strange Winter, Joseph Hatton, Dora Russell, Julian Sturgis, Kate Tannatt Woods, Florence Warden, Annie Thomas, W. E. Norris, Helen Mathers, Jepsie Fothergill, Hall Caine, Oswald Crawfurd, Rhoda Broughton, F. C. Phillips, Robert Buchanan, Charles Gibbon, L. T. Meade, John Berwick Harwood. from whose pens books have been issued during the past year, and others now in preparation, make the Series the best in the Dominion. The books are printed on good paper with new type. All the books are published by arrangement with the authors, to whom a royalty is paid, and are issued simultanc(nisly with their publication in England. For sale at all Bookstores. JOHN LOVELL & SON, PUBLISHERS, MONTREAL. JEZEBEL'S FRIENDS, By DORA RUSSELL, ACTIIOB OF ** Footprints in the Sno7i>," **TAe Track of the Stormy" Etc. In " Jezel)ers Friends '' — we have presented to us a fresh and vivid picture of modern life. The opening chap- ters introduce to us a couple of sisters, both attractive and winsome — but both in deep trouble. What that trouble is the Reader will burn to discover. The first scene in this clever and thrilling Novel finds us on the sea drenched sands, watching the struggles of a woman in the teeth of a hurricane and storm of lightning and rain, to find a spot near the waves, where she may bury beyond the ken of her kind something concealed in a long narrow box. The darkness aids her, but her presence is revealed by the lightning to a watcher on the cliffs — the one person above all others whom she wished to avoid. He sets himself to fathom her secret, with what success the fuller develop- ments of the plot must reveal. Sufiice it to say that from the very first chapter the Reader's interest is enlisted, his sympathies aroused, and his curiosity keenly excited. " COMEDY OF A COUNTRY HOUSE." By Julian Sturgis, Author of "Thraldom," "John Maidment," <&c., &c. 202 Pages, Paper Cover, 30 Cents. Lovell's Canadian Copyright Series^ No. 13. Julian Sturois. — The name of this distinguished young writer was tompar.itively unknown a few years ago, but now he is famous th rough- out the land as one of the best writers of fiction America has ever produced. — TitneSy Port Hope. As " Thraldom," "John Maidment," and other novels by the sam author have had successful runs, there is no doubt but that the late production is equally as acceptable. — Mail^ Toronto. ^^ A Life Sentence/' By Adeline Sergeant, Author of "Thk Luck of thk House," &c., &c. 398 PiHpes, Paper Cover, 30 Cents. Lovell's Canadian Copyright Series, No. 12. 13. kr was [ough- ever sam late The plot in this novel is intense and well sustained. The story ojiens by introducing Andrew Westwood as a prisoner accused of murder, he being sentenced to death, although he protested his innocence. The victim of the murder was Sydney Vane, a wealthy landlord, while his supposed murderer was an acknowledged poacher. Vane left a wife and child, the former dying a few months after her husband's murder. Among the inmates of the Vane household was Miss Lepel, a distant relative of Sydney Vane's, her position being that of a governess. Vane fell in love with her, and on the night he was murdered he intended to abandon wife and child, and flee to India with his paramour. Hubert Lepel heard of the intrigue, and meeting the couple together spoke rather plainly to Vane, the interview closing with a duel, in which Vane was killed, Lepel using the poacher's gun, which he unfortunately found near the spot where the duel took place. Westwood's sentence was commuted to life imprisonment. He left a ilaughter which Hubert sent to school, but she ran away from it in a year or two, made her way to London, and meeting Hubert, who had developed into a successful dramatist, asked his assistance under the name of Cynthia West. He found that she had a rare voice, paid for her musical education, and in a few years she captivated by her singing and beauty the fashion of Lon- don. Hubert and Cynthia fall in love with each other, and after^many vicissitudes brought on by a quasi-engagement with the daughter of the murdered Vane, Hubert admits he was the murderer. Cynthia's father escapes from prison, returns to London, meets her, is arrested, whereupon Hubert admits his guilt and is sent to prison for two years. Some time after his release he marries Cynthia, and the bride and groom leave for America, where her father had "struck ile." There are other plots equally strong, introducing numerous characters, the whole making a book that cannot be laid aside until it is read through. — Afai/, Toronto i 1 BC 160. IOKSIN"STAR"SERIE s. .26 DONOVAN, BY Edna Lyall 101. A HARDY NORSEMAN, by Edna Lyall .25 102. 103. WE TWO, by Edna Lyall .25 .25 KNIGHT ERRANT, by Edna Lyall 104. WON BY WAITING, by Edna Lyall.... .25 105. IN THE GOLDEN DAYS, by Edna Lyall .25 106. DERRICK VAUGHAN, NOVELIST, by 107. Edna Lyall .25 .30 LUCK IN DISGUISE, by Wm. J. Zexter 108. THE BONDMAN, by Hall Caine ..30 109. A MARCH IN THE RANKS, by Jessie 110. FOTHERGILL ..30 .30 COSETTE, by Katherine S. Macquoid. For Sale by all Booksellers. RIES. • • • • .25 rALL .26 » • • • .26 1 • • • .26 • • • . .25 ALL .26 BY • • • .26 PER .30 • • • .30 SIE • • ..30 D. .30