serpents, cornets, and other brass instruments, into their green baize receptacles. Garçons, like so many excited black beetles, were flying hither and thither, clearing away the small refreshment-tables, and extinguishing the many-colored lights that twinkled like a swarm of fireflies amid the dark foliage of the trees and shrubbery.

Overhead, the large yellow stars shone out from the background of a deep, blue, cloudless firmament. The air was redolent with the odors of fragrant flowers and exotics.

Down the broad, white path leading from the dancingpagoda, still ablaze with its flaring gaslights, a noisy crowd of men and women were hurrying toward the entrance-gate, which, crowned with its double arch of gaudy Chinese-lanterns, was visible at the further end of the avenue.

A noisy crowd indeed! Noisy with the silvery laughter, the rustle of silken skirts, the gay chatter of female voices and the deep tones of the men chanting the refrain of the last popular Parisian aria, or replying with ready repartee to the lively sallies of their gay companions. Noisy with that gayety and animation so purely French. A vivacity born of their careless and pleasure-loving, Latin natures, harmonious with the seductions of Strauss, and the wild, reckless abandon of Offenbach and Lecocq. It had been a fêle en masque, given in honor of the recent arrival at Abois of a crack cavalry corps; and the scarlet dolmans, and richly-braided blue uniforms, the glittering tinsel and waving plumes of the Hussars, assorted well with the bright-colored silks and quaint bizarre costumes of the maskers.

Amid this scene of color and brightness were visible here and there, like stranded wrecks upon a Summer ocean, some miserable men in the ungraceful uniform of civil life, made doubly hideous by their brilliant surroundings.

All was merriment, joy, and animation. They pushed and jostled each other in the struggle toward the gate; the women jestingly chiding some too pressing neighbor, the men shouting and laughing at these reproofs, and all hastening onward toward the entrance.

Suddenly, upon this scene of mirth and gayety, like a flash of lightning across the darkness of a midnight sky, came a terrible interruption. A loud cry! then a single word in tones of the most intense terror. A single word, but one which, coming suddenly in the darkness of the night, paralyzed for a time the courage of the bravest, chilled the warm life-blood in the veins of the most enterprising and daring, and rooted the gay and brilliant throng where they stood, mute and silent with horror and suspense.

Murder! For several moments not a movement was made to ascertain the cause of this sudden alarm. All seemed crushed and stunned by this ghastly interruption to the gayety and merriment. A second cry, louder than the first. A second repetition of that terrible word; and now, by quick revulsion of feeling, presence of mind returns to the petrified listeners, and with one accord they surge in the direction from which the cry appeare to proceed.

Men and women, pushing, hustling, and jostling each other, pellmell, in their eager desire to gratify the curiosity which had now taken the place of all other emotions! Breaking through hedges of shrubbery, ruthlessly trampling down beds of rare flowers, the eager throng pressed on.

The search was not a long one; the fleetest foot among the crowd soon reached a sidewalk, into which they turned just as the third repetition of the cry broke

the stillness of the night. Another moment, and they had gained a small summer-house or arbor thickly overgrown with climbing vines.

Near the door a man, whose costume at once indicated him to be a garçon, or waiter, was wildly wringing his hands, his pale face betraying evidences of the most intense excitement.

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What is the matter ?" cried a dozen voices. The man made no other reply except to point to the interior of the arbor, and wring his hands and gesticulate as if entirely overcome with terror.

Rushing past this man, from whom it was evident no further information was to be obtained, a number of the gentlemen made their way into the arbor and eagerly looked around them.

The sight that first met their eyes was one not calculated to arouse much alarm in their breasts. A couple of rustic benches, placed on each side of a small table, was the only furniture of the summer-house, which was dimly lighted by a single gas-jet.

Upon one of these benches a man was seated, his arms reclining upon the table and his head buried in his hands. The figure was mute and motionless. On the table were a number of champagne-bottles and glasses.

This was the first sight that met the eye of those that entered the arbor, and seemed innocent enough. But when one, more enterprising than the rest, laid his hand upon the reclining form and lifted it to an erect position, a shudder of horror ran through the spectators.

The sight now presented was ghastly in the extreme. The face was that of a man past middle age, broad, coarse and sensual, with gray hair, bushy side whiskers and mustache. The pallor of death was imprinted upon every feature. The eyes were wide open, staring and glassy. The lower jaw had fallen, the lips were parted; indeed, the whole countenance was stamped with an expression of overpowering fear, and, more terrible still, upon the livid white forehead were two gashes made by some sharp instrument, forming a scarlet cross from which the blood still trickled.

For some moments no one could speak. All seemed fascinated by the dreadful spectacle. The crowd choked up the doorway, and gazed with pale faces and quivering lips, powerless to reply to the questions of the less favored ones in the rear, who were unable to obtain a sight of the interior, and who eagerly demanded the cause of the disturbance.

At length the spell was broken. A man pushed his way through the crowd and entered the arbor. His uniform at once showed him to be a member of the police force, and some of the gentlemen recognized him as the Brigadier of the Gendarmerie of Abois.

No sooner did his eyes fall upon the face of the dead man than he uttered a loud exclamation :

"Grand Dieu!" he cried. "It is Monsieur Marrois !" This exclamation seemed to break the charm which inthralled the spectators. In a moment there was a perfect Babel of voices, questioning, answering, hazarding a thousand wild conjectures and explanations, quarreling and fighting for a sight of the awful scene.

Pushing and shouting to gratify their curiosity, now redoubled in the breast of every one by the information, which ran like lightning through the crowd, "that a man had been murdered, and that that man was Pierre Marrois."

Several gendarmes now made their appearance; at once an order was given from their superior to disperse the crowd. A task at first not easy to accomplish. However, at length finding it impossible to obtain any further

IN the little arbor, the scene of the tragedy, there remained the Brigadier of Gendarmes, and three gentlemen who had been the first to arrive at the time of the alarm, and who had been requested to remain to give their testimony as to what they had seen.

At this moment a gentleman, accompanied by one of the gendarmes, came hastily up the walk, and entering the arbor, addressed himself to the brigadier in a manner that plainly indicated him to be one having authority.

"What is this they tell me, Jean ?" he cried. "Pierre Marrois murdered ?"

"Alas! monsieur, it is too true," replied the brigadier, who had been interrupted in his examination of the body by the arrival of the newcomer.

'Mon Dieu !" exclaimed the gentleman, as his eyes fell for the first time on the ghastly spectacle presented by the murdered man's face. Mon Dieu! this is horrible !"

46

And the strangest part of it, monsieur," said the brigadier, with a grave voice, and with an air of evident perplexity, "is the fact that, with the exception of those gashes on the forehead, I can find no other wound upon the body, although I have searched as closely as possible."

"I should say," broke in one of the three gentlemen, & handsome young man, in the costume of Polichinelle, "I should say that Marrois died of fright, if we are to judge from his face; for never in my life did I see overpowering terror more plainly depicted."

"Monsieur Lejeune," said the first speaker, with a tone of reproof, "fear seldom kills, and especially a man like Marrois. That wound on the forehead

"Monsieur has undoubtedly the right to question me,' replied the person addressed, drawing himself up, as if somewhat offended at the abruptness of his interlocutor. "You are right, sir; I am the Mayor of Abois." "Excuse me, Monsieur le Maire," said the gentleman, a tall, slender man, dressed in evening costume. "My name is Aristide Vis. I am not a doctor; but I do not think one needs to be a medical man to know that death could not have ensued from those cuts upon the forehead, and if there are no others, why then-"

"Yes, yes," interrupted the mayor; "I see. But, now tell me, Jean," he continued, turning to the brigadier, "tell us all you know about this affair."

"Very little more, Monsieur le Maire, than your own eyes can tell you. But these gentlemen, who arrived at the arbor in advance of me, are probably better furnished with information."

"Ma foi !" said the young masker who had been addressed as Lejeune, "all that there is to tell is of the

simplest. Monsieur and I" (and here he pointed to the tall gentleman who had given his name as Aristide Vis), "monsieur and I were, I think, the first to reach this spot. What did we find? One of the garçons dancing up and down, like a madman, and so terrified as to be utterly unable to speak. Seeing which, monsieur and I entered this place, and found, ma foi! what you see before you. I think that is all there is to tell," and the young man looked interrogatively at the tall gentleman, who replied with an affirmative motion of the head. "Did you see the garçon, Jean? Which one of the men was it?"

"I did not see him, Monsieur le Maire," replied the brigadier.

"But I did," cried Lejeune. "I know the man well. It is Antoine Sachard.”

"Where is he now ?" the mayor looked inquiringly toward the gendarmes.

But it was Lejeune who replied.

"The poor fellow was so frightened that I should not wonder if he had run home to his wife for protection. He—”

"Go, Jean, and find the man at once, and bring him here," said the mayor, breaking in upon the young man. And as the brigadier turned to leave, he continued, addressing himself to these gentlemen: "You, messieurs, will be kind enough to give me your addresses, and can then retire."

This formality having been complied with, the gentlemen were leaving the arbor, when Lejeune bent down and picked up a small object which lay on the ground. half way between the unoccupied bench and the door, Tossing it upon the table, he said, with a langh:

"Pardieu! Papa Marrois has been at his old tricks again, and this time the Siren has sung him to sleep with a vengeance. Adieu, and au revoir, Monsieur le Maire." And paying no attention to the look of grave reproval with which the official replied to his ill-timed levity, the young man ran away in pursuit of the brigadier.

The other two were following his example, when the mayor laid his hand on the shoulder of Aristide Vis, and begged him to remain.

The two gentlemen were soon left alone, and the mayor, who ever since his arrival had given evidence of some very strong emotion, which he succeeded in concealing only by a very powerful effort, now said, abruptly:

"You must excuse me, monsieur, for asking you to remain; but you will understand me when I tell you that I am entirely unnerved by this horrible occurrence. You are, it is true, a stranger to me, but I can see you are a man of intelligence and courage, and I really need some one to support me."

"I am entirely at your service, Monsieur le Maire; if I am to be of the slightest assistance, you can certainly count upon me to the best of my poor abilities."

The mayor drew a long breath, and sinking down upon the bench opposite the murdered man, hid his pallid face in his hands and remained for some moments silent. When he again raised his head his eyes fell upon the object which Lejeune had thrown upon the table. It was a gray kid glove. Its shape indicated that its owner

was a woman.

"What is this ?" he cried. "Where did this glove come from ?"

"The young gentleman whom you called Lejeune found it lying there near the door."

"Dropped, I suppose, by one of the crowd?"

"I think not, monsieur; I am certain no woman

entered the arbor. And I noticed, when the glove was picked up, that it lay very close to the bench upon which you are sitting. I am inclined to think that Monsieur Lejeune's last words are true. I think the person who occupied that seat, on which you are now seated, was a woman-and if one is to judge by the shape of the hand, I should say a very pretty one." And, whilst speaking, Aristide Vis took up the little gray kid glove, and examined it with evident admiration.

"But monsieur," cried the mayor, "do you mean to insinuate that this terrible crime was committed by a woman ?"

“Oh, no, I will never believe it; the idea is too repul sive. And, then, those fearful marks. Would you have me believe that any woman could have thus disfigured her victim?"

"See here, Monsieur le Maire," replied Vis, "what do you make of this ?" and pointing to the slender tapering fingers of the glove, he made the mayor observe several dark-red spots upon the delicate gray kid.

Mon Dieu! blood upon that glove ?" "As you say, monsieur," replied Aristide.

whether he had discovered anything further. The man replied in the negative. Dropping his face in his hands, the mayor again relapsed into silence-a silence for some time unbroken and uninterrupted.

CHAPTER III.

WHILE the Mayor of Abois remained silent, evidently lost in the gloomiest of thoughts, struggling with emotions which he seemed to find great difficulty in repress ing, the brigadier, respectfully considerate for the feelings of his official superior, stood stiff and rigid, a fine example of obedience and discipline.

In the meantime Aristide Vis had again picked up the glove, and now he, too, was silent; lost in admiring contemplation. A soft, tender expression stole over his face, as he smoothed, with caressing touches, the delicate kid, and breathing gently into the glove, forced it to assume the shape imprinted on it by the beautiful hand it had once incased.

The look of softnc.s and tenderness deepened upon his face, as, raising the slender trifle, he inhaled the perfume

A far away expression came into his eyes; pleasant memories of the past rose up within him.

The next moment, by a sudden revulsion of feeling, the expression of his face changed to a look of self-contempt and disgust, and flinging the tiny glove from him with an exertion of force entirely disproportionate to such a fragile object, he turned toward the body of the murdered man, and began a close investigation of the pallid and hideous countenance.

He had been absorbed in this task for some moments, when suddenly he uttered a loud exclamation, which caused the mayor to raise his head and look up inquir

"Oh! for that, M'sieu le Maire, what shall I say?" replied the man, resolutely keeping his back turned toward the body of the murdered man. "What shall I say? I am clearing away the tables and extinguishing the lights; I come here, and what do I see? a table with glasses and bottles, and a m'sieu with his head buried in his arms. I say to myself, Antoine, the m'sieu is asleep. He has taken (par exemple) a drop too much.' I shake him; no reply. I shake him again; again no reply. I lift his head. I see that horrible sight. And then, mon Dieu! M'sieu le Maire, I lose my senses. I let m'sieu's head drop back on his arms. I fly to the door and I cry Murder! murder!' at the top of my voice. What can I say ? I remember no more, m'sieu, until the crowd comes. They ask me questions. I can say nothing. They call me fool. What of that? all I wish is to get away as fast as possible; I fly."

All this the man poured out with the utmost volubility, tossing his arms about, and gesticulating in a manner impossible to any one but a French garçon.

"And this is all that you know ?" inquired the mayor, interrupting this flood of words.

"Truly, m'sieu, it is all."

"Then you did not attend upon this table ?" Non, m'sieu."

"Who did, then ?"

How shall I say, m'sieu? But the garçons, they are all yonder, and if m'sieu will permit me, I can go and find out."

"Go then, and return as quickly as possible." The man accepted this dismissal, and as he hurried away, the mayor turned to the brigadier and inquired

ciplined stolidity of the brigadier.

"If I am not mistaken, Monsieur le Maire," said Vis, with the utmost gravity, replying to the inquiring glances of the two men, "I have discovered the cause of Monsieur Marrois's death."

"What?" cried the mayor, springing to his feet and drawing near to the corpse, an example quickly followed by the brigadier, whose curiosity had now gotten beyond the control of discipline.

"Yes, monsieur," continued Vis; "look here at this mark on the neck of the murdered man!” and he pointed to a spot some two inches below the left ear.

"That scratch ?" exclaimed the mayor, with undisguised astonishment; an astonishment reflected in the eyes of his official subordinate.

"It is more than a scratch, monsieur. If you look close, you will see that there is a slight puncture." "Well, then ?"

"Well then, monsieur, you will observe that all around this puncture the flesh is black and discolored. See, too, the scratch, instead of its edges being angry and inflamed, are of a dull bluish color. Monsieur le Maire," cried the speaker, as sure as I live, that tiny wound produced this man's death."

"Then you think

"I think," interrupted Vis, "that this puncture was made with some poisoned instrument; something very slender and sharp-I should say a needle."

"I believe monsieur is correct!" excitedly exclaimed the brigadier, now past all power of controlling his feelings. "I believe monsieur is correct, and the more so as this agrees well with what little we know—or, rather, suspect. That scratch, Monsieur le Maire, might easily

the champagne-bottles upon the table? Two of these are entirely, and the third more than one-third, empty. What do I conclude from this? That Monsieur Marrois had been drinking freely, and from the quantity of wine consumed must have been anything but clear-headed; when, taking advantage of his condition, the woman inflicted the fatal scratch. And now, see here, monsieur," continued the young man, drawing the attention of his companions to a spot upon the ground under the table, and just in front of the unoccupied bench; "this woman was deceiving her companion throughout, and while inducing him to drink, with the purpose of intoxicating him, she was emptying her glass here beneath the table."

"Grand Dieu!" cried the brigadier, who had gone down upon his knees, and with his nose to the ground, was eagerly examining the spot pointed out. "Monsieur is entirely right; the grass is still wet with champagne." "Monsieur Vis," said the mayor, "horrible as it seems to me, I am afraid that I must admit the correctness of your conclusion; but, oh! how terrible to think that any woman could deliberately plan and carry out, with such fiendish coolness, a crime like this.”

"I suspect, monsieur, that women can do a great many things, that we, in our innocence, believe them to be incapable of. I am satisfied that my theory of this affair is the true one; and see, here comes proof to support it." And Aristide pointed to the doorway, in which now appeared the form of Antoine Sachard, accompanied by a short man easily recognizable as one of his confrères, and whom he hastily presented to the mayor's attention. "This is Baptiste, M'sieu le Maire; Baptiste waited on M'sieu Marrois. He can tell m'sieu all about it."

"You attended upon this table, Baptiste ?" "Yes, M'sieu le Maire," answered the second garçon, a short, stout little fellow, who, after his first horrified glance at the corpse of the murdered man, kept his pale face turned away from the body.

"Come, Baptiste, you will tell me all you know about this affair. Think well; your testimony may be of great importance. When did you first see Monsieur Marrois?" The man replied, without any hesitation :

'I was attending in this part of the garden, M'sieu le Maire, serving refreshments. M'sieu Marrois met me in one of the walks near this place."

"Was he alone ?"

"No, m'sieu, there was a lady upon his arm." The mayor gave a slight start, and looked at Vis, who only replied by a smile. Recovering his composure, the official bade the man, "Go on."

"Well, m'sieu, M'sieu Marrois asked me if there was not a little arbor somewhere near, in which he and his companion could be alone? I replied in the affirmative, and brought him to this spot, lit the gas, and took his order. which was for champagne."

"And the woman-what of her ?"

"At that time, I did not notice her closely; but when I returned with the wine, she and M'sieu Marrois were seated on the two benches, opposite each other; and then I noticed her more closely. She was in gray, a silk domino with the capuchin drawn over her head, and her hands-mon Dieu! I could not but notice what beautiful hands they were, incased in gray kid gloves !"

"But her face, man!-her face ?" cried the mayor, excitedly.

eyes, so bright, oh, so bright, m’sieu, shining out of the eyeholes of her gray silk mask."

'You did not hear her voice ?"

"No, m'sieu; toward the last, M'sieu Marrois seemed rather affected by the wine, and when I was here for the last time, was speaking excitedly. But, stop! Now I think of it, m'sieu, the last time I entered the arbor the lady was not upon this bench here opposite, but was seated by the side of M'sieu Marrois, who was pressing her hands, and protesting his devotion in the most ardent manner. I filled the glasses from this third bottle, and left the arbor. That was the last time I came here." "And from beginning to end you never saw the lady's face, nor heard her voice ?"

"As I said before, no.

"Are you

"One last question,” continued Aristide. absolutely sure that you noticed nothing about the lady's costume except what you have told us? Nothing by which she could be identified from any other woman, wearing a gray domino and mask ?”

The man remained silent for some moments, and then suddenly exclaimed:

"But, mon Dieu! it is true. The lady had upon her left shoulder a small bow of scarlet ribbon, and—and," he continued, "I also remember her capuchin was fastened at the back with a long golden pin."

The officials glanced instinctively at Aristide, whe seemed entirely unmoved by the information his questions had elicited. Upon the face of the brigadier was an expression of unqualified admiration; whilst upon that of the mayor mingled doubt and astonishment were plainly expressed. No one spoke for some time, until at length a distant clock striking the hour of four recalled the mayor from this reverie.

"So late?" he cried, with a start; and then, suddenly addressing the garçon: "There, that will do, Baptiste; you can go now. You understand, of course, you will have to repeat this testimony before the judge. You had better be at the Hotel de Ville' at twelve. You, Jean," addressing himself to the brigadier, "will remain here, and see to the removal of poor Marrois's body. At the same time try and find out if any one else saw the gray domino. The gatekeeper or the gendarmes on duty at the entrance may have noticed her. And now, monsieur," he said, turning to Vis, "if you will give me your arm we will leave this detestable place.'

Aristide complied with this request, and in silence the two men passed down the walks of the garden and reached the entrance-gate. Thanking his companion for his valuable assistance, and reminding him that the investigation would have to be renewed before the Juge d'Instruction, he bade him good-night

CHAPTER IV.

The person