CHAPTER IV.

MURDER WILL OUT.

“The circumstances were, briefly, these:

“I attended, as before observed, the _fête sociale_, at the house of my friend Mr. Carr--Leonard Carr. The party was given in honor of a young literary friend of the family, who had recently gained great renown as a writer of fiction. To this young man I was introduced just before we all sat down to the festive board to partake of the many good things so bounteously set before us.

“After the repast was concluded we all adjourned to the parlor and entered into conversation. Topic after topic had been discussed, and at length the ‘Turning tables,’ then so rife in all parts of the world, and Paris especially, became the theme of observation and criticism.

“‘Bah!’ said Mrs. Carr, ‘I deem the whole thing silly, besides being one of the most contemptible humbugs ever ran after by a pack of silly people--I was going to say--fools: I am convinced there is really nothing in it, and that all this stuff about moving furniture, and ghosts, and other spectral gentry, is but the product of heated fancy, if not of heads and hearts devoid of truth, principle, and moral rectitude; stories got up for swindling purposes, and to gull that credulous pack of ninnies known as “The Public,”--and a precious set they are, to be sure! Who believes, for instance, a tithe of the reputed wonders of the famous American “Miracle Circle,” or that they are anything more than clever tricks played off by a set of waggish fellows on a gullible community of Yankees, having in view the ultimate object of exposing and exploding the whole so-called spiritual mysteries? I don’t, I’m sure.’

“Poor lady! She little dreamed under what cruel circumstances she was doomed so soon to verify the truth of the Latin motto,

“‘Nemo mortalium, omnibus horis sapit,’

so meaningly quoted to myself by Ravalette. Little did she then dream, in the plenitude of intellect, that not many days would elapse ere she admitted all she now so mockingly and scornfully derided and laughed at, and that ere long she would cower in the very extremity of terror and mental dread, before these very mysteries she now so dogmatically denied.

“Her husband took upon himself the task of answering her, thus relieving us guests of the always unpleasant office of holding a wordy contest with a woman. He said:

“‘You are, my dear, permit me to say, in behalf of myself and these gentlemen, a little too hasty in your conclusions, too sweeping in your remarks, and in the characterization of the wonderful phenomena of these latter days. I know, my love, that you will give _me_ credit for rather more than the usual share of suspicion, scepticism, and doubt, regarding certain marvellous things said to have recently taken place in England, America, and even here in Paris. You know that it is my nature to admit nothing as proved--especially of such an implied nature--without absolute demonstrative evidence. The proof must be irrefragible--the testimony unbroken and indubitable, else I accept nothing. I certainly do not believe in spirits, much less that such things come to this world and flit and move around us, taking interest in all our affairs, and meddling with our business in a thousand ways, as it is alleged they do by those who believe in them. And yet, with all this, I confess that I have seen things that stagger me--indeed, that demonstrate beyond dispute the existence of a power, mighty, secret, occult, and working out its marvellous designs without the slightest human aid or influence whatever. Mind me, I do not attribute any or all of these results to spiritual agency, but I do say that the force at bottom is marvellously intelligent, and for all the world like that of man’s. For instance, you will remember F----, who came from America to astonish the French. Well, actuated by curiosity, I resolved to form one of a circle of six who had made arrangements to test his powers at his own rooms. Accordingly we met him by appointment at the Café Jououy near the Palaise Royal, and together we seven started for his hotel. Now, as I walked along, the idea suggested itself, that perhaps the fellow had made arrangements in his rooms to surprise us by a resort to some mountebankish performance, and therefore, in order to try his sincerity, and at the same time guard against any mere trickery or legerdemain, I suggested that we repair to apartments elsewhere than at his hotel. To my surprise he assented to this arrangement without a murmur, and we repaired to a room at the house of one of the company, Monsieur Benjamin, in the Rue de Clichy. When there, we all sat around a small table with our fourteen hands laid flat upon its top. For a while nothing occurred, save a few knocks or thumps upon the table, which F---- attributed to spirits, but which I suspected his knees produced. While thus we sat (it was broad daylight, and the sun shone brightly through the windows), we distinctly saw, and _I_ actually, palpably felt of, a _fifteenth_ hand. This hand was apparently solid flesh and blood. It appeared to be that of a mulatto girl of fifteen or sixteen summers, and one of the party subsequently told me in confidence that it was the very fac-simile of the right hand of a girl whom he once knew in the Isle de Bourbon, and who had destroyed herself by poison for love of the very man who told me the story! This hand came from beneath the table and extended itself eight or ten inches over the edge at first. Then it gradually rose in the air, displaying a magnificent set of fingers, upon the middle joint of one of which appeared the semblance of a large and peculiarly-shaped brown mole, surrounded by three smaller ones, and it was by these marks that my friend pretended to recognize it. The hand was attached to about two-fifths of a fore-arm, completely covered with the semblance of a lace sleeve, terminating at the wrist in a jewelled band, and at the other extremity by a flaring and projecting ruffle. The hand, after a while, rose into the air, where it floated for two minutes. It then descended, seized hold of a small silver bell upon the mantel and rung it sharply all over the room; after which it replaced it, took hold of a pencil and wrote forty-seven words upon the ceiling of the lofty-vaulted apartment; threw down the pencil, patted each of our hands, and then gradually faded away in the air, just over the centre of the table. We rose after it had gone, placed a stand upon the table, a chair upon that, so as to reach the writing on the wall (which yet remained there), and found a short message to the company in general, and signed by the very name of Mr. ----’s _inamorata of the Isle de Bourbon_! Now, my dear, was all this hum-bug?’

“To this, the lady, whose scepticism would not abate one jot, even in the face of such an--to all but a Rosicrucian--overwhelming demonstration as this, replied:

“‘Why, I presume you had all taken a little too much wine, fell asleep, got up, wrote on the wall, and--Bah! It’s all humbug! and that settles the question at once!’

“The lady was silent, and the literary lion--I will call him Mr. A----, for whom the party was gotten up, entered the arena of conversation, and observed that: ‘Spectral or Spiritual science--he preferred the former term--was yet but in its infancy in Christendom, provided what a casual acquaintance of his, a man of extraordinary research in all things occult, and whom he had met under peculiar circumstances but a little while before--affirmed to be true with regard to the faith, philosophy, and practices of a certain branch or rather family of the Hindoos or other Eastern tribes.

“‘This individual,’ pursued Mr. A----, ‘is a firm and devout believer in Spiritualism, and yet contends that not over two-tenths of what passes current under that term, is really that which it is claimed to be. Nay, further: he declares, and gives his reasons why, which latter are very just and tenable, that not more than once in fifty times are the actions and speeches delivered under trance the result of Spiritual action; but that when not the absolute offspring of imposture, which is rarely the case, other, and very often _purely physical_ causes are at work, which are frequently far more potent than what is known as “spiritual influence,” inasmuch as the results are productive of better, greater, and more satisfactory phenomena, and of far more interest and value to mankind, and which have been entirety overlooked in the haste and zeal with which people seek to gratify their thirst for the marvellous, by attributing whatever baffles their powers of analysis to a supermundane origin.

“‘This person,’ continued Mr. A., ‘asserted also that he could himself produce similar and even far more wonderful and startling effects, by means entirely material, than many which are claimed to originate beyond the earth. “This,” said he, “I can do under circumstances that will forever put the quietus on one portion of the spiritual theory. There is a science in existence that may very properly be called Spectreology or Phantomism, whose wonders vie with the best of those emanating really from the spirit world!” During his travels in the Orient, he said, the _modus operandi_ of several startling effects had been imparted to him by a person named Ramo Djava, and that, were it not for his greatly impaired health, which rendered the experiments alluded to highly dangerous, he would give public displays of his power. As to the means used, that must remain a secret, for he had promised to initiate only one person, and that not till his dying hour. But, at all events, he was willing to demonstrate, before a select few, that there really is more between earth and heaven than even the loftiest savants dream of.

“‘Having my curiosity thus excited, I, with great difficulty, prevailed on this person to consent to give a display of his ability, before a select circle of eighteen. I have invited five persons, and the present company will exactly complete the requisite number, and I cheerfully extend you all an invitation to be present at half-past six o’clock precisely, at the mansion of our mutual friend, the Baron de Marc, this day week!’

“This ended the conversation on that particular theme, and, shortly afterwards, the party dissolved, agreeing to meet again on the night mentioned, which, strange coincidence! was the very one of the singular adventure with ‘the ghost of Ravalette;’ for, to tell the truth, I had by this time begun to suspect that my old man of the Louvre--he who appeared under three different aspects at one and the same time, nay, under _five_, and who was heard to speak, though himself unseen, by the man of the Guinguette--was something more than mortal.

“You must bear in mind the fact, that the party and conversation at Mr. Carr’s took place _before_ I had ever seen Ravalette at all to speak with him. And now, if you please, we will continue the train of events in progress before I made this digression.

“You will remember that, after making fruitless inquiries for the two horsemen, and an equally fruitless search after foot-prints on the soil near Belleville, that I took my way toward Paris, slowly, on foot, musing deeply as I went along. As I passed down the Rue Faubourg du Temple, the tolling of a distant clock announced the hour of four. I remembered my engagement at the Baron’s, but, as I had fully two hours left in which to dress for the occasion, I determined to drop in at D’Emprat’s, in the Rue Michel le Compte, as I went by, and hear whatever might have turned up in my absence.

“I reached the street, and was greatly surprised to find a large and highly excited crowd of people before the gate, and the more so, as I beheld the surplices of at least a dozen priests of the Order St. Lazare, elbowing their way, and trying to pass both in and out of the house.

“With heart palpitating with vague and dread uneasiness, I approached an intelligent-looking man, and, assuming a carelessness by no means felt, asked him the cause and reason of the gathering.

“‘Lord bless you, sir!’ he said. ‘Do you not know that the devil and five of his imps have just been on a visit to that house, and carried off three or four of the inmates through the roof in a flame of _blue fire_? If you don’t know it, I assure you it is a fact!’

“I saw in this answer the legitimate effect of superstition, and that the man’s cloth belied his intelligence; I, therefore, drew out a sheet of paper and a pencil, and began to flourish them in the eyes of the crowd for the purpose of attracting its attention.

“My _ruse_ succeeded; the people set me down as a reporter of the press, and instantly gave way right and left; so that I had but little difficulty in gaining an entrance to the building. Once there, I soon learned that the poor D’Emprat had relapsed into the swoon occasioned by his first fright, and had passed thence into the most frightful convulsions, exclaiming all the while, as the thick foam rolled from his bloodless lips, ‘Oh, the devil! the devil has come for my soul, _because I killed Baptiste Lemoine thirty-seven years ago! Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! They will drag me to hell! Ah, God!_’

“His wife had exerted all her influence and power to stifle these dangerous cries, but without avail. His cries still increased in fury, until at last the police had forced an entrance into the house, and were speedily followed by a score of priests, who, hearing that the devil was in Paris, in proper person, were very anxious to try the effect of a little shower-bath of holy water, as well as to get a sight of their arch enemy, whom, doubtless, the vast majority of them regarded secretly as nothing more than a man--or, rather, devil--of straw.

“The news spread like wild-fire that the devil had appeared, and to the questions asked by priest and bailiff of the porter, he confirmed the rumor, and told, as best he could, the incidents of the afternoon. His story did not rest here, however, but, taking two of the officers aside, he told them something which caused them to start back in the wildest horror, and cross themselves most devoutly. The result of the interview was, that the officers cautioned the porter from uttering one word of what he had just told them to any person else. After this, they all again entered the room where D’Emprat was still struggling in all the terrors of delirium, still accusing himself of a long-committed homicide, still calling on God and the priests to save him from the clutches of the devil, whom he averred he saw beside him armed with fork and trident, ready to drag his unfortunate soul to perdition and the damned. During all this fearful scene, Madame D’Emprat was doing all she could to quiet her husband, but without avail. The man went on harder than before. The ghosts of evil deeds were there, and avenging angels lashed his soul to frenzy.

“‘Be still,’ she cried, ‘for Jesus’ sake, be still! They will carry you to Bicêtre, and from there to _le Boureau_, and you will die _au coupe tête_![8] Oh, be still! or, if you must talk, say something else than _that_!’

[8] On the guillotine.

“Every word uttered by the woman and the man was quietly written down, unobserved, by one of the officers, who used my pencil and paper, and the back of his comrade as a desk.

“What strange, mysterious power was it that caused me mechanically to purchase a pencil and paper on my way from Belleville down to Michel le Compte?

“God’s ways are mysterious, altogether past finding out; and I inwardly praised him as the mighty fact became apparent, that the people of the house were _not_ in league, as I had conjectured might be the case, with Ravalette; and that the mysterious agent of Divine Retribution was _not_ of an infernal nature, be it or he whatever else. A load was lifted off my heart--too soon, alas! to be let down heavier than before.

“‘You did not kill him, D’Emprat! So don’t say you did any more!’ exclaimed the woman in the accents of despair.

“‘’Tis a _lie_! I did!’ yelled the unfortunate man. ‘I killed him with the hatchet in the cellar, and buried him under the grey horse’s stall in the stable!’

“‘My God! we are ruined!’ screamed the now frantic woman. ‘I always suspected that you killed my brother, but never believed it until now. And, yet, I do not even now believe it; for’----

“‘_I can prove it_; for I well remember a bloody hatchet, and that master never would let me clean the stable of the grey horse; and that I have watched him dig gold from the ground there, and heard him accuse himself in his sleep!’ said the _concierge_, coming forward.

“‘Then, D’Emprat, and you, madame, I arrest in the name of the law; and you, porter, as a witness. Officers, do your duty--take the prisoners--clear the house!’ said their chief.

“Five minutes afterwards, the unfortunate people were being led to prison, and I was on the way to my hotel to dress--even under such circumstances--for the soirée at the Baron’s, but in a frame of mind that little fitted me to be a spectator of philosophical experiments. Yet my word was pledged, and go I must, and go I did--six o’clock finding me in the Baron’s parlor.

“I am perfectly sensible that, even in what I have narrated, the credulity of many persons would be taxed to the utmost. It is easy enough to believe that such things as I have described occurred long ages ago, in the green and halcyon days of Magic, but it is difficult to imagine such things as taking place in the broad light of this nineteenth century. Millions, aye hundreds of millions, have believed, do, and, in coming years, perhaps ages, will believe in the startling records of a magic similar to that I have detailed, and which is described so briefly, yet so graphically, in the Book of Exodus; and yet these people will strenuously insist that the day of such things--of such exhibitions of the Upper Magic--has for ever passed away, totally unmindful of the great fact, that, when the astonishing things there recorded were accomplished, there must of necessity have been a law--a natural law--in accordance with, and by which, they were done, and that no law of Nature has ever yet been repealed; consequently, they must exist to-day in as full perfection and power as ever.

“What remains of the present affair to be told, may, with what has already been related (and the truth of which may be ascertained most readily by correspondence with the parties named), be implicitly relied on as correct in all essential particulars; and yet, the occurrences that took place on that eventful night are of a kind so horrible, so utterly monstrous, that, at times, I almost believe that we all--twelve healthful men, and six women--were laboring under some strong delusion. I should still cling to this belief, with the pertinacity of a miser to his golden god, the bigot to his creed, or the drowning wretch to the narrow plank that promises a renewal of life’s tenure, were it not that facts, appalling in themselves, forever and utterly _preclude_ the possibility that I--that _we_--were mistaken and deceived. What these facts were, will be most clearly shown in the sequel.”