TKe Crime of
££: (he Boulevard
CHAPTER XII.
Bernardet, without stopping to salute
her. pointed out the portrait and asked
to see It. When he held It in his hands,
he found the resemblance still more
startling. It was certainly Jacques
Dantin. The painting was signed "P.
B.. Bordeaux, 1S7I." It was oval in
ahape; the frame was gone; the edge
was marked, scratched, marred, as If
the frame had been roughly torn from
the picture.
“Have you had this portrait a long
time?” he asked of the shopwomnn.
T put It In the window today for the
first time,” the huge woman answered.
“Oh. It Is a choice bit! It was painted
by a wicked one.”
"Who brought It here?”
“Some one who wished to sell It—a
passerby. It It would Interest you to
know his name”—
“Yes, certainly it would interest me
to know It,” Bernardet replied.
Tho shop woman looked at Bernardet
defiantly and asked this question:
"Do you know the man whose por
trait that Is?"
"No, I do not know him. But tills
resembles one of my relatives. It
pleases me. How much Is It?”
"A hundred francs,” said the big
woman.
Bernardet suppressed at the same
time a sudden start and a smile.
"A hundred francs! Dlftble! How
fast you go! It Is worth sous rather
than francs."
“That!” cried the woman, very In
dignant. "That! But look at this ma
terial, this background. It Is famous. I
tell’you I took It to an expert. At the
public sale It might perhaps bring 1,000
france. My Idea Is that It Is the picture
of some renowned person, tin actor or
a. former minister—In fact, some his
toric person.”
"But one must take one's chance,
Bcrnardet replied In a jeering tone.
**But 100 francs is 100 francs. Too
much for me. Who sold you the paint
ing?”
. The woman went around behind the
counter and opened a drawer, from
which she took a notebook, In which
•he kept a dally record of her sales.
She turned over the Ieat%s.
"November 12, a small oval painting
bought”— She readjusted her specta
cles as If to better decipher the name.
"I did not write the name myself.
The, man wrote it himself." She spelled
out:
"Charles—Charles Breton, Rue de la
Condamine, 16”—
"Charles Breton," Bernardet repeat
ed. “Who is this Charles Breton? I
would like to know if he painted this
portrait, which seems like a family por
trait, and has come to sell it"—
“You know, ” Interrupted the wom
an, "that that often happens. It is
Business. One buys or one sells all In
good time."
"And this Breton, how old was he?”
"Oh, young. About SO years old.
Very good looking. Dark, with a full
beard.”
“Did anything about him especially
strike you?”
“Nothing!” th& woman shortly re
plied. She had become tired of these
questions and looked at the little man
with a troubled glance.
Bcrnardet readily understood, and,
assuming a paternal, a beaming air, he
■aid with his sweet smile:
"I will not fence any more. I will
tell you the truth. I am a police In
spector, and I find that this portrait
■trangely resembles a man whom we
have under lock and key. You under
stand that It is very Important that I
should know all that is to be ascertain
ed about this picture.”
"But I have told you all I know,
monsieur,” said the shopkeeper.
"Charles Breton, Rue de la Condamine
1ft—that is the name and address. 1
paid 20 francs for it. There Is the re
ceipt. Read it, I beg. It Is all right.
We keep a good shop. Never have wc,
my late husband and I, been mixed
with anything unlawful. Sometimes the
bric-a-brac Is soiled, but our hands
and consciences have always been
clean. Ask any one along the street
.about the Widow Colard. I owe no one,
any every one esteems me”—
The Widow Colard would have gone
«n Indefinitely if Bernardet had not
■topped her. She had. at first mention
of the police, suddenly turned pale, but
now she was very red, and her anger
displayed itself in a torrent of words.
He stemmed the flood of verbs.
"I do not accuse you, Mme. Colard,
and I have said only what I wished to
aay. I passed by chance your shop. I
■aw in the window a portrait which re
sembled some one I know. I ask you
the price, and 1 question you about its
advent into your shop. There is nothing
there which concerns you personally. I
do not suspect you of receiving stolen
goods. I repeat my question. How
much do you want for this picture?"
"Twenty francs, if you please. That
Is what It cost me. I do not wish to
have it draw me into anything trouble
some. Take it for nothing, if that
pleases you."
"Not at all. I intend to pay you. Of
What are you thinking, Mme. Colard?"
The shopwoman had, like all people
of a certain class, a horror of the po
lice. The presence of a police inspector
In her house seemed at once a dishonor
and a menace. She felt herself vaguely
under suspicion, and she felt an im
pulse to shout aloud her innocence.
Always smiling, the good man, with
a gesture like that of a prelate blessing
hia people, endeavored to reassure her,
to calm here. But he could do nothing
with her. She would not be appeased, i
In the long run this was perhaps as
well, for she unconsciously, without
any intention of aiding justice, put
•om« clews into Beriiardet's hands
which finally aided him in tracing the,
man.
Mme. Colard still rebelled. Did they
think she was a spy, an informer? She
had never—no. never—played such a
part. She did not know the voung
man. She ahd bought the picture as
•he bought any number of things..
"And what If they should cut off his
head because he had confidence in en
tering my shop? I should never for
give myself, never."
"It Is not going to bring Charles Brc
* ton to the scaffold. Not at all. not at
all. It is only to find out who he is.
and of whom he obtained this portrait.
Once more, did nothing In his face
■trike you?”
"Nothing,” Mme. Colard responded.
She reflected a moment.
"Ah, yes. perhaps. The shape of his
hat. A felt hat with wide brim, some
thing like those worn in South Amer
ica or Kareros. You know, the kind
they call sombrero. The only thing I
said to myself was, ‘This Is probably
«ome returned traveler,- and if I had
not seen at the bottom of the picture
Bordeaux I should have thought that
this might be the portrait of some
Spaniard, some Peruvian."
Bemardet looked straight Into Mme.
Colard's spectacles and listened Intent
ly, and he suddenly remembered what
Monlche had said of the odd appear
ance of the man who had. like the
woman In black, called on M. Bo
vere.
"Some accomplice,” thought Bernar
det.
He again asked Mine. Colard the
price of the picture.
“Anything you please,” said the wo
man, still frightened. Bernardet
smilpd.
“Come, come! What do you want
for It? Fifty francs, eh? Fifty?"
"Away with your 50 francs! 1 place
it at your disposal for nothing If you
need It." -
Bernardet paid the sum he had
named. He had always exactly, as if
by principle, a 50 franc note In his
pocketbook. Very little money— a few
white pieces—but always this note In
reserve. One could never tell what
might hinder him In his researches. He
paid, then, tills note, adding that in
all probability Mme. Colard would soon
be cited before the examining magis
trate to tell him about this Charles
Breton.
"I cannot Ray anything else, for I
do not know anything else," said the
huge widow, whose breast heaved with
emotion.
She wrapped up the picture In a piece
of silk paper, then in a piece of news
paper, which chanced to be the very
one In which Paul Kovere had pub
lished his famous article on “The Crime
of the Boulevard de Clichy.” Bernardet
left enchanted with his "find" apd re
peated over and over to himself: "It
Is very precious. It Is a tidbit."
Should he keep on toward the pre
fecture to show this "find" to his chief,
or should he go at once to hunt up
Charles Breton at the address he had
given?
Bernardet hesitated a moment; then
ho said to himself that in a ease like
tills moments were precious; an hour
lost was time wasted, and that as tho
address which Breton had given was
not far away he would go there first.
“Hue de la Condamlne, 16”—that was
only a short walk to Huch a tramper as
he was. He had good feet, a sharp eye
and sturdy legs. He would soon bn at
the Bntlgnolles. He had taken some
famous tramps In his time, notably one
night when he had scoured Paris in
pursuit of a malefactor. This, he ad
mitted, had wearied him a little, but
this walk from the Avenue des Bons
ICnfants to the Rue de la Condamlne
was but a spurt. Would he find that
a fals# name and a false address had
been given? Tills was but the infancy
of art. If, however, he found that
this Charles Breton really did live at
that address and that he had given his
true name, it would probably, be a very
simple matter to obtain all the Infor
mation he desired of Jacques Dantin.
"What do I risk? A short walk,"
thought Bernardet, "a little fatigue.
That can be churged up to protit and
loss.”
He hurried toward the street and
number given. It was a largo house,
several stories high. The concierge was
sweeping the stairs, having left a card
bearing this Inscription tacked on the
front door; "The porter Is on the
staircase." Bernardet hastened up the
stairs, found the man and questioned
him. There was no Charles Breton In
the house; there never had been. The
man who sold the portrait had given
a false name and address. Vainly did
the police officer describe the individ
ual who had visited Mme. Colard's
shop. The man insisted that he had
never seen anyone who In the least re
sembled this toreador in the big felt
hat. It was useless to insist! Mme.
Colard had been deceived. And now
how to find in this Immense city of
Purls this bird of passage who had
chanced to enter the bric-a-brac shop.
The old adage of "the needle In the
haystack" came to Bernardet’s mind
and greatly irritated him. But, after
all. there had been others whom he had
looked for. there had been others whom
he had found, and probably he might
still bo able to find another's trail. He
had a collaborator who seldom failed
him—chancel It was destiny which
had aided him.
Bernardet took an omnibus in his
haste to return to his chief. He was
anxious to show his "find" to M. Lo
rlche. When he reached the prefecture,
he. was immediately received. He un
wrapped the portrait and showed it to
M. Lerlche.
“But that Is Dantin!" cried the
chief.
"Is It not?"
"Without doubt! Dantin when young
er, but assuredly Dantin! And where
did you dig this up?"
Bernardet related ills conversation
with Mme. Colard and his fruitless
visit to the Rue de la Condamlne.
"Oh, never mind,” said M. Lerlche.
“Tills discovery is something. The man
who sold this picture and Dantin are
accomplices. Bravo. Bernardet! We
must let M. Glnory know."
The examining magistrate was, Ilka
the chief and Bernardet, struck with
the resemblance of tile portrait to Dan
tin. His first move would be to ques
tion the prisoner about the picture. He
would go at once to Mazus. M. Lerlche
and Bernardet might accompany him.
Tho presence of the police spy might be
useful, even necessary.
The magistrate and the chief entered
a fiacre, while Bernardet mounted be
side the driver. Bernardet said noth
ing, although the man tried to obtain
some information from him. After one
or two monosyllabic answers the driver
mockingly asked:
“Are you going to tho souriciere
j (trap) twtease some fat rat?"
M. Glnory and M. Lerlche talked to
gether of the Valkyrie, of Balreuth,
and the chief asked, through polite
ness, for news about his candidature to
the Academy of Moral and Political
Sciences.
Do not let us talk of the institute.”
the magistrate replied. "It is like the
beginning of a hunt to sigh for the
prize that brings unhappiness."
The somber pile, the Mazas, opened
its doors to the three men. They trav
ersed the long corridors, with the heavy
air which pervaded them in spite of all
efforts to the contrary, to a small room,
sparsely furnished (a table, a few
chairs, a glass bookcase), which served
as an office for the examining magis
trates when they had to hold any in
terviews with tlie prisoners.
The guardian in chief walked along
with M. Ginory; M. Leriche followed
them, and Bernardet respectfully
brought up the rear.
■•Bring in Jacques Dantin," M. Gi
nory ordered. He seated himself at the
table. M. Leriche took a chair at one
side, and Bernardet stood near the lit
tle bookcase, which was next the only
window in the room.
Jacques Dantin soon appeared, led
!* hi’ two guards in uniform. He was
very pale hut still retained Ids haughty
air and his defiant attitude. The mag
istrate saluted him with a slight move
ment of the nead, and Dantin bowed,
recognizing in Bernardet the man with
whom he had walked and conversed
behind Itovere's funeral ear.
"Be seated, Dantin," M. Ginory said,
"and explain to me, I beg, all you
know about this portrait. You ought
to recognize It.”
He quickly held the picture before
Dantin'a eyes, wishing to scrutinize his
face to see what sudden emotion it
would display. Seeing the portrait,
Dantin shivered and said in a short
tone, "It is a picture which I gave to
Rove re."
“Ah.” said M. Ginory, "you recog
nize it, then?”
"It Is my portrait," Jacques Dantin
declared. "It was made a long time
age. Rovere kept it in hia salon. How
did it come here?"
"Ah!" again said the magistrate.
"Explain that to mo!”
M Glnory seemed to wish to be a
little ironical. But Dantin roughly
said:
"M. le Juge, I have nothing to ex
plain to you. 1 understand nothing. I
know nothing. Or, rather, I know that
in your error—an error which you will
bitterly regret some day or other, I am
sure—you have arrested me, shut me
up in Mazas, but that which I can as
sure you of is that I have had nothing
—do you hear, nothing—whatever to
do witii the murder of my friend, and
I protest with all my powers against
your processes."
"I comprehend that," M. Ginory
coldly replied. "Oh, I understand all
the disagreeableness of being shut up
within four walls. But then It is very
simple. In order to go out one has only
to give to the one who has a right to
know the explanations which are ask
ed. Do you still persist in your sys
tem? Do you still insist on keeping I
know not what secret, which you will
not reveal to us?"
“I shall keep it, monsieur. I have
reflected,” said Dantin. "Yes, I have
reflected, and In the solitude to which
you have forced me I have examined
my conscience.” He spoke with firm
ness. less violently than at the Palais
de Justice, and Bernardet’s penetrating
little eyes never left his face; neither
did the magistrate's nor the chief’s.
,, ^ am Persuaded," Dantin continued,
' that thismiserahle mistake cannot last
long, and you will recognize the truth.
I shall go out, at least from here, with
out having abused a confidence which
one has placed In me and which I in
tend to preserve.”
"Yes,” said M. Glnory, “perfectly
I know- your system. You will hold to
it. It Is well. Now, whose portrait is
that?”
"It is mine!”
"By whom do you think it was pos
siblQ that it could have been sold in the
bric-a-brac shop where it was found?”
“I know nothing about it. Probably
by the one who found it or stole it from
M. Rovere’s apartment and who is
probably, without the least doubt, his
assassin.”
"That seems very simple to you?”
“W seems very logical.”
"Suppose that this should be the ex
act truth, that does not detract from
the presumption which implicates you
and from Mme. Moniche’s deposition,
which charges you—”
"Yes, yes, I know—the open safe,
the papers spread out, the tete-a-tete
with Rovere, when the concierge en
tered the room—that signifies nothing.”
For you, perhaps. For Justice it has
a tragic signification. But let us return
to the portrait. It was you, I suppose
who gave it to Rovere?"
..^Yes’ 11 waB I*” Dantin responded.
Rovere was an amateur In art; more
over, my intimate friend. I had no fam
ily. I had an old friend, a companion
of my youtli whom I thought would
highly prize that painting. It is a fine
one—it is by Paul Baudry.”
"Ah!” said M. Ginory. "P b_
those are Baudry's initials?"
"Certainly. After the war, when I
had done my duty like others—l say
this without any Intention of defending
myself—Paul Baudry was at Bordeaux
He was painting some portraits on
panels, after Holbein—Kdmond About’s
among others. He made mine. It is this
one which I gave Rovere—the one you
hold in your hands."
The magistrate looked at the small
oyai painting, and M. Leriche put on'
his eyeglasses to examine the quality
of the painting. A Baudry!
"What are these scratches around the
eugo as if nails had been drawn across
the places?" M. Ginory asked. He held
out the portrait to Dantin.
'T do not know. Probably where the
frame was taken off.”
"No, no! They are rough marks. I
can see that. The picture has been lit-'
eralty torn from the frame. You ought,
to know how this panel was framed "
"Very simply when I gave it to Ro
vere. A narrow gilt frame, nothing
more."
“Had Rovere changed the frame?”
"I do not know. I do not remember.
When I was at his apartment the last
few times, I dot remember to have
seen the Baudry. I have thought of it
but I have no recollection of it.”
"Then you cannot furnish any in
formation about the man who sold this
portrait?"
“None whatever.”
"We might bring you face to face
with that woman.” *
“So be it! She certainly would not
recognize me.”
"In any case, she will tell us about
tile man who brought the portrait to
her."
"She might describe him to me accu
rately, and even paint him for me "
said Dantin quickly. "She can neither1
Insinuate that I know him nor proveto
you that I am his accomplice. I do not,
know who he is or from where he
comes. I was even ignorant of his ex
istence myself a quarter of an hour!
ago."
(Continued Next Week.)
The SimpJe Life.
From the Umar, Mo., Democrat.
Go out to the home of some friend who
lives In the country, one of these sharp
autumn nights. Get out at 6 o’clock the
next morning and do the chores In the
chill approach of the dawn, then hie your
self to the cornfield and commence strip
ping the frost-covered shucks from the
nubbins, staying with the job until night.
Then as you unload the corn Into the crib
amidst the gathering darkness you will
have no trouble at all in figuring out
why so many people persist in hanging
around town—even when they haven’t any
Job. .
ar.
A SMALL. ONE.
Knight Standi—I want you to under
stand that I am star of this company.
Howell Rant—You may be billed as a
star, but you couldn’t be found by a Lick
telescope._ _ _
One Kind.
Teacher—Willie, what is a sentence?
Willie—Thirty days. ,
! TWO OF THE BEST KNOWN
; GENERALS AND THEIR WIVES
i---—
1-4--_____---nan » omrtv,K I
Ffeoivl LEFT TO fclGHTj MAJOEL &EKE I5AL F. D. GRANT MRS LEONARD \H-OOD, NIRS FD GRANT;
AND MAJOR. GENERAL LEONAR-D STOOD
Now York, Special: The return of
Major General Leonard Wood from
the Philippines where, for more than
six years, he has been in command of
the military forces, marks another
movement on the great army chess
i-oa d. 3y it two leaders of the •‘Amer
ica's regulars" are to leave their for
mer posts for new fields. General Wood
has only once been at Governor's Isl
and, and then but for a scant 15 min
utes. Major General Grant leaves the
familiar scenes at “Bay Island” to take
command of the Department of the
Lakes, with headquarters In Chicago.
Little pomp was observed when the
generals exchanged compliments. It
was a handshake between commanders
and the formal introduction of General
Wood to the staff at Governor's island.
The general orders from Washington
was read and the ceremony was over.
General Wood returns to the United
States afer a summer in Europe. Ha
spent most of his time in Switzerland.
He also visited the maneuvers of tha
French and German armies, and was
the military representative on the
American commission to the Spanish
Historical congress at Saragossa.
THE ELECTORAL VOTE.
From the Philadelphia Public Ledger.
If an Intelligent foreigner, traveling
In the United States at the time of a
national election, should ask an Amer
ican friend a few simple questions
about the electoral college, when it
meets and how it proceeds to choose a
president, he would probably be as
tounded at an utter ignorance on the
part of the American sovereign voter.
In the sense of having any physical
function of meeting and acting, there
is no such national entity as an elec
toral college. The practice of elections
has departed so widely from the theory
of the constituiton that an American
who has not made a special inquiry
into the subject generally regards the
general election as settling the presi
dency, except for minor clerical de
tails. Very few realize the truth—
that the selection of a president is still
beset with grave doubts and with se
rious possibilities of convulsion.
Not one American in 10 stops to think
that Mr. Taft is not yet elected and is
no more a president-elect than is any
other citizen. He is the nominee of a
political party and in the hands of its
electors. They can choose Bryan if
they so decide.
■ The process is that the electors in
each state meet and vote. The state
executive then certifies the vote to the
secret ry of state at Washington, who
certifies the returns from all the states
to congress. The philosophy is that the
affair is in the hands of states, and
that the national congress merely
counts and announces the result. Un
der the constitution "the president of
the Senate shall, in the presence of the
Senate and the House of Representa
tives, open all the certificates, and the
votes shall then be counted.” Whether
the president of the Senate shall count
the votes, or whether the House has
the power of deciding what votes shall
be counted, are questions not yet
finally settled, notwithstanding the
legislation of the Hayes-Tllden period
and the act of 1887. Many authorities
hold that an amendment to the con
stitution is necessary before the discre
tionary power involved in counting
disputed returns will be satisfactorily
located. .
Section 4, of the act of 1887, provides
that the Senate and House shall meet
on the second Wednesday of February.
The president of the Senate shall pre
side. Two tellers appointed by the
House and two by the Senate shall
open all certificates and papers. If
only one set of returns shall have been
lawfully certified by a state it snail be
counted. In case of dispute between
two state authorities, the two houses,
acting concurrently, may decide. If
they disagree, each house takes up the
question separately, and only those
returns shall be counted which both
houses, acting separately, shall decide
to be the “lawful votes of the legally
appointed electors of states.”
In other words, as Senator Sherman
said, the clause allows the two houses,
if they are partisan and act together,
to reject the honestly recorded votes
of every elpctor in every state. It per
mits a majority of congress, on tech
nical grounds, or no grounds, to defeat
the popular will and prevent the in
auguration of a new president. If the
two houses do not separately concur,
state disfranchisement will result. The
unlettered voter will agree with the
learned Jurists that unless some bet
ter solution of this difficulty is in
vented. trouble will sooner or later be
precipitated.
What if President-elect Taft should
die before the electors of the states
meet and vote, or after the voting and
before congress counts the votes? In
the Greeley case most of the demo
cratic electors voted for Hendricks, but
certain Georgia electors insisted on
voting for Greeley. However, that
doubt was removed by a court de
cision which declared that a dead man
is not a person and that such a vote
Is void. At no time did the question
threaten national disturbance, since
the electors are free agents in con
templation of the law; and if they do
not follow party instructions or un
derstandings it is a party matter.
So far from settlement is the ques
tion of the electoral count and so full
of danger that practically every high
authority has spoken of the "outlived
usefulness of the electoral system." An
example of the Imperfections occurs in
Maryland, where Taft has carried the
state, it appears, by a plurality of C05,
and yet Bryan gets six of the electoral
votes. At the first Instance of a po
litical revolution, after which a strong
majority of one party shall control
both houses and be called upon to pass
upon electoral votes cast for a political
opponent, there will be temptations to
devise technical reasons, in the vote of
close states, for seating a candidate
whom the people shall have rejected.
The electoral system is crude, out of
harmony with the customs of the coun
try, fallacious in its theories and dan
gerous in action—as any one can per
ceive by asking himself what would
har—>»n if both the president-elect and
the vice president-elect should die be
fore inauguration. The system has
worked most of the time, because party
management has been strong enough
to prevent minor accidents, but no
American ean think of the electoral
college without a wish that a sure and
sound system could be adopted.
Half and Half.
It was a decidedly stormy passage
to New York. Israel Zangwill, the
playwright and novelist, said one night
in the smoking room:
"It is pleasant to cross the Atlantic,
but this bad weather is mingling a good
deal of discomfort with our pleasure.
Life is usually, though, like that—
pleasure and pain—half and half.
"It reminds me of an elderly spinster
who sat near me at the table d’hote
one afternoon in Venice. Turning to
her niece, I heard her' say:
“’In Venice at last! Ah, my dear,
half the dream of my youth is now ful
filled.’
"‘Why only half, auntie?’ the young
girl asked.
“ ‘I counted on going to Venice,’
sighed the spinster, ’on my wedding
Journey.’ ”
Another Lincoln Story.
My Intimate friend, the late Judge A.
W. Hubbard, who represented in congress
the northwestern third of Iowa during the
civil war, #elated to me the following
anecdote of President Lincoln which
seems especially characteristic and
worthy of preservation. Judge Hubbard
went to the White House to see the presi
dent on some matter of business and
found him occupied with a delegation
from Cleveland. O., so had to wait in the
ante room for their departure. At Cleve
land there were two factions of the re
publican party, and as is apt to be the case,
in famtlles, the feud was bitter and con
tention furious. Now there was a va
cancy in the postoffice there, and tha
president had sent to the senate for post
master the name of a prominent member
of one faction, and the nomination wa»
likely to come up soon for confirmation or
rejection. A delegation of leading men
in the opposing faction had hastened to ‘
Washington to expostulate and even de
mand of Lincoln a withdrawal of the
nomination, and the Judge waiting in the
ante room could hear the noise of their
importunate demands. In course of time,
however, the delegation filed out through
the ante room, and the president following
immediately after, hat in hand and that
expressive smile of sadness on his face,
reached out his hand to the judge—an old
friend—exclaiming: “Another bee-gum up
set, Hubbard, let's tako a walk." wVhera
upon they went out to some office and
the Judge's business was settled on tha
way. Anyone who has seen a beehive up
set will see the point and appreciate tha
exclamation.
ALSO BLACK EYEa. ETC.
Visiting Englishman—Wbat are that
most notable features about football as iii
la played here? ~
The Native—Broken noses.
‘
( The Bold iluuier—U U-houe»i, Mr. Babbit, 1 wasn't after /out 1 wua lookin' (or boaxsi
\ *
