!
1.4
vol. s.-mn.
BI S. B. ROW,
CLEARFIELD, PA., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 13, 1859.
ALL THATS BEIGHT MUST FADE.
All that's bright must fade,
The brightest still the fleetest;
All that's sweet was made
But to be lost when sweetest;
Stars that shine and fall.
The flower that droops in springing ;
These, a'as, are types of all
t To which our hearts are clinging.
Who would seek to prize
Delights that end in aching?
Who would trust to ties
That every hour are breaking?
Better far to be
. In outer darkness lying,
Than be blest with light, and see
That light forever flying.
LADY GUILFOET.
A TALE OP TEfinorU
The following story is derived lroru the au
thentic work of M. Peuchet, Les Archives de la
Police de Paris. The period to which the nar
rative rclers is that of the reign of Louis XIV.
Monsieur de la Regnie had filled for several
years, to the general satisfaction, the func
tions of Lieutenant-General of Police, when,
on a sudden, terror spread itself through Pa
ris in consequence of the extraordinary disap
. carance of several persons. In the course of
four rnonths.twenty-sixyoung men, the young
est seventeen, and the oldest twenty-five years
of age, had been spirited away from their in
consolable families. The most extravagant
and contradictory rumors were in circulation
upon the subject, particularly in the Faubourg
St. Antoine, which had to deplore the loss of
lour or five young men, the sons of rich and
respectable upholsterers residing in that quar
ter of the citj'. Among other gossiping sto
ries whispered about upon this subject, it was
pretended that a princess, who was suffering
from a dangerous liver complaint, had been
advised by some foreign charlatan or quack
doctor, to make use from time to time, as a
means of cure, of a bath of human blood, and
that the unfortunate missing persons had been
immolated for the purpose. Another equally
horrible surmise was, that they had been made
away with by the Jews, who, out of hatred and
derision of the crucified Messiah, were accus
tomed to put Christians to death upon the
Cross. Fortunately for the poor Jews, this
latter opinion took no hold of the public mind.
Whatever the secret cause of these disap
pearances might have been, terror and desola
tion reigned in Paris. The Duke de Gevres
liaving mentioned the facts to the King, his
Majesty sent for the Lieutenant-General of
Police, and reproached him with suffering the
xistence of such a system of kidnapping,
-which, in all likelihood, he added, must have
been followed by violent deaths, as none of
those missing had ever been heard of after
vrards. Monsieur de la Regnie, in despair at
the displeasure of his Majesty, returned in
very bad humor to Paris, and sent immediate
ly for one ol his most experienced agents,
named Lecoq, a man whose services on many
difficult occasions he bad good reason to value.
To him be made known (he embarrassment in
which he found himself, told him of the king's
a iswer, and held out to bim the prospect of so
great a reward that Lecoq, carried away by
bis cupidity, exclaimed, "Ah, monsigneur ! I
see that, in order to take foa out of trouble,
I must renew the sacrifice of Abraham. I ask
you to allow me eight days, in which time I
hope to give you a good account of the af
fair." Lecoq said no more ; and Monsieur de
la Regnie, who looked upon him as his best
agent, dismissed him with a sign which gave
l.im to understand that he had at his disposal
all the resources of the police. At that time
it was the custom in the police department to
make use of mute signs on extraordinary oc
casions of this kind, the meaning of which
was known only to the principal and most con
fidential agents.
Lecoq, who was not married, had a natural
son, to whom he was greatly attached, and o
ver whose conduct and education be carefully
watched. This lad, called by his companions
L'Evei!le,from the precociousncssand spright
liness of his disposition, was gifted with no
common intelligence. Though little more
than sixteen years of age, nature had not only
given him reason beyond his years, but had
also been prodigal to him of external gilts.
YouDg Lecoq, besides possessing a handsome
face, was tall, and so well and strongly formed,
that he looked more like a man of five-and-twenty
than a youth of sixteen. L'Eveille,
whose real name was Exupere, obtained from
tiis father all that could flatter the vanity of a
young man ; for bis handsome person was al
ways set off by costly and modish clothes,
lie, however, quitted the house but seldom,
for the elder Lecoq knew but too well the dan
ger to which handsome young men like his
on were exposed in the streets of Paris ; and
on the rare occasions when Exupere was al
lowed to go abroad, he was always accompa
nied by one or the other of the police spies
whom his father had at bis back.
Lecoq, on returning from his interview with
Monsieur de la Reguie, shut himself up with
his son, and had a long conversation with him.
In the afternoon of that day, Exupere was
seen quitting the house alone, and splendidly
dressed. Around his hat and suspended from
his neck were gold chains ; he wore two
watches; and, from the chinking of his purse
as be walked, it was evident that it was filled
with good broad pieces of gold coin. But
what still more surprised the neighbors (for
the profession of the elder Lecoq was unknown
to them,) was to see tho handsome and finely
dressed L'Eveille go and return home several
times during four consecutive days, without
being accompanied, as had always been the
case'beloro, by his uncle (in reality his fath
er ) or some friend. It has been already sta
ted that L'Eveille, besides the remarkable
comeliness of his face and person, was endow
ed with a lively intellect, courage, prudence,
and fare. The confidential conversa
tion he had with his father bad awakened bis
ambition; and he easily understood that he
might acquire both honor and profit should he
succeed in discovering, for the Lientenant
- General ol Police, the canso of the extraordi
nary disappearance of so many young persons.
Accordingly, In the rich dress befitting a
young man ol family, he walked about the
streets, on the quays, in the gardens ol the
Tuileries and Luxembourg, and in the Salle
dea Paa Perdus at the Palaise da Justice, and
in the galleries of that vast edifice, then a
favorite haunt or the gay and idle among iuo
Parisian!.
Lecoq the elder had conjectured that the
vounir men who bad disappeared bad been
ensnared to their ruin by the seductive charms
of some frail beauty ; aud he foresaw that, by
putting his son in the way to meet such a
creature, he exposed bim likewise to a similar
late ; but, reckoning upon his being forewarn
ed, he hoped he might escape the snare that
had been fatal to so many others. The fifth
day, towards three o'clock in the afternoon,
young Lecoq, in all the eclat of his fine
clothes, was sauntering on the terrace of the
garden of the Tuileries next the liver, when
a remarkably beautiful young woman passed
close by him. She was walking alone, but
was followed at some distance by a kind of
humble friend, or gouvemante. She appear
ed to be about 25 years of ago, was elegantly
dressed, and bad not only much beauty in
her face and shape, but a certain foreign grace
or piquancy in her air and manner. L'Eveille
gazed, or pretended to gaze, with great inter
est upon the fine form and striking features of
the unknown fair one. His glances were not
thrown away, but were answered by timid and
half-downcast looks. He drew himself up,
arranged the frill of bis shirt, disposed in
better order his lace rutlles in a word, gave
himself the airs of a man who had the presen
timent of an adventure, hoping all the time
that it was that for which he had his instruc
tions already. To make sure of this, he pass
ed and repassed several times before the lady,
and at length took a seat upon one of the
benches of the labyrinth which then existed
in front of the Champs Elysees. Ee had not
been there many minutes when he saw the
friend, or tuivanle, of his beautv approach the
spot where he was, and, after a lew;turns, seaUj
herself on the same bench. lie took oft his
hat, as was the custom, and soon after entered
into conversation; and, thinking the game
already in his hands, he asked the svitanie
who the young lady was in whose service she
appeared to be. "Oh, Sir," replied she, "the
history of my mistress is almost a romance."
"A romance!" exclaimed L'Eveille, "you in
terest me deeply; probably your mistress
is ." "Yes," replied the suivante, in a
confidential tone, "you have guessed right ;
she is that interesting young person, of whom
all Paris is still talking ; and, since you have
so readily chanced upon her name, I will no
longer conceal from you her history. 1 ou
must know, my dear sir, that the father of my
mistress was a rich Polish prince, who came
to Paris incognito, and whilst there formed a
connection with the daughter of a tradesman
in the Rue St. Denis ; a child (my mistress)
was the result of this intercourse. The princa
quitted Paris, and never returned. It was
said that he had been set upon by brigands and
murdered. The King of Poland, however,
having been made acquainted with the unwor
thy conduct of the prince, wished to repair,
as far as in him lay, the evil he had done ; and,
for that purpose, sent a confidential Agent to
Paris. But, alas ! before his arrival the moth
er of my mistress bad died of a broken heart,
and he found her infant orphan alone in the
world. The King of Polaud, on being inform
ed of the circumstances, caused the child to
be declared heiress of the vast wealth of the
Prince. Happy the man who shall call her
his own!" "Happy, indeed!" exclaimed
L'Eveille, "the man who could entertain even
a hope of pleasing her," at the same time
heaving a deep sigh. "Ah, young man, to
please, you must sometimes dare " "To do
what" asked L'Eveille. "How should I
know ? to be amiable." "And how is that
to be done?" "Oh, you question me too
closely ; and, for an intelligent youth, as you
appear to be, you ask singular questions. A
dieu, monsieur."
"One word more," cried L'Eveille ; one
word more, I conjure you." Therane,who
had risen, sat down again. It was now L'E
veille's turn to speak ; and he told the old wo
man, with as much apparent ingenuousness as
he could muster up, that he was the son of a
wealthy physician of Mans, and that he had
been sent to Paris to attend the course of lec
tures at the university ; and added, "Here I
have been for the last ten days, and, as you see
not ill provided ; for my father is generous,
having no other child but me ; and, besides
watches, chains, and rings, I have two hundred
pistoles in my purse, and leisure and disposi
tion to devote myself to the task of pleasing
so charming a person as your mistress."
The old sorceress chuckled ana smuca, wun
a mingled expression of pleasure and contemp
tuous pity. She then took L'Eveille by the
hand, and said, "You have entirely won my
heart, and I feel a kind of motherly affection
for you, of which 1 will give you proof. List
en to me. You have not escaped my mistress'
notice. She was struck with your person and
manners, and desired me to find out who you
were. I am charmed that her choice should
have fallen on one so worthy of her. Station
yourself, this evening, a little before nightfall,
in front of tho principal door of the church of
St. Germain 1' Auxerrois. I will meet you
there, and bring you, I have no doubt, good
tidings. Take care to come well dressed, and
with all your finery ; for it might spoil all were
you to appear before my mistress in the guise
of a threadbare-coated, pennyless student."
This point being settled they separated.
L'Eveille, in his joy, scarcely touched the
ground along which he hurried home, as he
felt convinced that he had discovered the de
coy that had lured so many young men to their
ruin. On acquainting his rather with what had
taken place, Lecoq shared in the suspicions
and hopes of his son ; but, as the hour of trial
drew nigh, paternal tenderness filled his heart
with fear, and he trembled at the danger the
youn" man was about to encounter. Howev
er iuordcr to diminish that danger as much
as'possi ble.be summoned a number of his most
trusty police agents, to whom he briefly ex
plained the nature of the service, and recom
mended them to keep close to his son, with
out, however, compromising, by their too near
approach, the success of the coup de main he
was about to attempt, ne himself was to walk
a short distance before them, resolved that,
as far as in him lay, the expedition should not
fail. A little before nightfall L'Eveille, still
more richly dressed than in the morning, pro
ceeded to the place appointed. The church
doors were about being closed when an old wo
man meanly clad, and with ber face nearly
concealed under a hood, emerged from tho
church, and after throwing a furtive glance a
bout ber, recognized L'Eveille, and made a
sien to approach her. "I should never have
known you!" cried L'Eveille. "Whata strange
Xe Jou have made of yourself?" "Oh it
is a necessary precaution, my son, in, order, to
escape the eyes of the numerous- adorers of
mTmUtress, who, hoping to gain me to their
interest, beset me whenever they see me in
he Sets. Good gracious! these puppies
ine around our house as bees are
ZSZl " dhurry on; but first put
this bandage on your eyes. This is a delicate
attention shown by our Parisian gallants to
their mistresses, and with which I know Ma
demoiselle Jeborouski (for so my mistress is
called) will be not a little pleased, and will re
ward you lor it." "No, by my faith," replied
L'Eveille, "I shall not bandage my eyes. My
lather expressly forbid me ever to do so."
"Well, then, let us proceed," said the woman,
"without it, since your papa has forbidden
yon. I shall explain that to mademoiselle."
They walked forward, the old woman a few
paces in advance of L'Eveille, and the police
agents following at a cautious distance. They
traversed the Rue de l'Arbesec, de la Monnaie,
and after various windings, those of Betezy,
Lavandieres, Mauvaises Paroles, Deux Boules,
Jean Lambert, and at length stopped in the
Rue des Orfevres, not the least hideous street
of that infeeted and black mud-covered quar
ter of Paris. There near the chapel of St. Elio,
and opposite a tolerably good looking house,
the old woman halted, and said "my dear sir,
my mistress docs not reside in this poor place,
but the house belongs to her, and it was ber.
wish to receive jou here first. I shall go up
and let her know yon are here."
The old demoness entered the house, leav
ing L'Eveille at the door. His father to en
courage Liai though he trembled himself
crossed the street and squeezed his hand, lie
had scarcely moved away when the old woman
reappeared, and after again endeavoring, but
in vain, to perjnade L'Eveille to let Lis eyes be
bandaged, conducted him into the fatal house.
L'Eveille, though armed, felt no little misgiv
ings and fears of being attacked as he follow
ed his faithless gnide in ntter darkness through
a long passage and up some flights of stairs.
However, he met no obstacles of the kind, and
was, after some time, ushered into a room light
ed with wax tapers and richly furnished. At
one end of the room, npon a crimson-colored
sofa, fringed with gold lace, reclined, in a most
seductive dishabille, tho daughter ot the Po
lish prince, Mademoiselle Jaborouski. At the
sight of the stranger, her hand sparkled with
brilliants, (no doubt from the Polish mines,)
readjusted over her half disclosed bosom the
two open folds of her robe, and after saluting
her visitor with an encouraging smile, she
made a signal to her duenna to retire.
The young man forgetful for the moment of
the object of his mission, felt as if under the
spell of enchantment, and fascinated by the
beautiful person before him, he bad scarcely
power to speak or move. She, seeing his em
bankment, arose from the sofa and held out
ber Land which he eagerly seized and kissed.
This but served to put more completely to
flight his presence of mind ; and, though con
scious of the infamous and dangerous nature
of the .place where he was, he could not resist
taking a seat on the sofa near so charming an
object. , So. that it might have been said of
him that, be bad completely fallen into the
power of her whom he had come to surprise,
and deliver into the hand of justice.
The elder Lecoq, who with the police agents
were impatiently waiting in the street, not
hearing thesignal agreed upon with his son,
put a whistle to his mouth, and blew it loudly.
The shrill sound reached the ears of young Le
coq, and put his illusions instantly to flight,
lie started from the sofa, and the siren under
whose fascinations be had been, under pre
tence of giving directions to her old suivante,
went into an adjoining chamber. L'Eveille,
profiting by her absence, made an inspection
of the room, in one corner of which stood what
apperaed to be a kind of Indian screen. Wish
ing to see what was behind this, he endeavor
ed to close up its folds, but finding them im
movable, he shook them with some violence,
when he heard a click.liko that of a spring giv
ing way, and one of the fold9 descended into
the floor, and left unmasked a deep and ample
recess or cupboard, upon the shelves of which
were rangad twenty-six silver dishes, and in
each a human bead, the flesh of which had
been preserved by some embalming process.
A stifled cry of horror burst from the youth's
lips, which, but a moment before had been
breathing the accents of admiration and pas
sion. But his agony of terror was still far
ther increased, when looking toward one of
the windows of the room, he thought he saw
several other cadaverous faces fixing upon him
through the panes their glazed but fiery glan
ces. He grasped at the back of a chair, to
keep from falling, bis hair stood on end, drops
of cool perspiration covered his forehead, his
cheeks became paler and more livid than the
faces of the dead that confronted him, and his
nerves at length giving way, he sank upon his
knees, and clasped his hands in a delirium of
terror and despair.
At this moment the window was burst in,
and bis father, followed by the police agents,
jumped into the apartment, for the elder
Lecoq, alarmed by the silence of his son, and
dreading that be might be assassinated, had
bravely mounted to the assault of the hou3e,
which be was enabled to do by means of lad
ders, which tho agents procured from a neigh
boring house-builder's yard. This fortunate
and daring act of Lecoq's did in fact save his
son's life for immediately after the noise made
by Lecoq and his police agents breaking into
the apartment, Madamoiselle Jabrouski, fol
lowed by four armed ruffians, rushed from the
adjoining chamber ; but the police agents be
ing inperior in number, and equally well
armed, resistance was in vain, and the lair
murderess aud ber four accomplices were se
cured, and, after being manacled, were carri
ed off to prison. A close examination of the
house led to no other discovery worth notic
ing. Thus far in the words of Peuchet, whose
explanation of this strange history is as fol
lows : A number of the most desperate male
factors, whose crimes had often merited the
gibbet and the galleys, had formed an associa
tion under the command of an experienced
and daring chief. This arch villain had in the
course of his wanderings fallen in with a rich
but most profligate Englishwoman a modern
Messalina. She lent herself to serve as a de
coy, by means of which young men who had
the appearance of wealth were lured to the
den where young Lecoq had had so miracu
lous an escape. They were murdered, and
their heads seperated from their bodies. The
latter were disposed of to the surgical stu
dents for anatomical purposes j and the heads,
after being dried and embalmed, were kept un
til a safe opportunity offered of sending tbem
to Germany, where a high price was given for
them by the secret amateurs of a science then
in its infancy, but which has- sine wade a
noise in the worULunder the name of phcr
nology, or the system -of Gall and Spurzheim.
The government dreading the eflect on the
minds of the people likely to be produced by
a public exposure of these numerous and atro
cious murders, took measures for the prompt
but secret punishment of the culprits. The
four robbers were hung, and their female ac
complice was also sentenced to death ; but
destiny ordained otherwise, as the sequel will
prove.
The conclusion of this strange eventful his
tory is thus narrated by Penchet. The Chev
alier de Lorraine, the Marquis de Lonvois,
and the Chancellor of France happened to be
present in the Marchioness de Moptcspan'a
apartment, whilst Louis XIV. was relating to
her and the Duke of Orleans, bis brother, the
adventure of young Lecoq, . who had been re
warded with a considerable sum of money and
a lucrative place. The marchioness express
ed great horror at the profligacy and cruelty
of lady Guilfort, (which title, like that of Ja
brouski, was one of the many names assumed
by the Englishwoman, her real name having
never been discovered,) and asked the King
if the execution of ua base and fiendish a
creature should take place. Louis X.IV. re
plied that the law would take its course, and
then changed the conversation. Soon after
the Duke of Orleans and the Chevalier de Lor
raine took their leave. After quitting the
apartment, the Chevalier said to his royal
highness, "This Englishwoman must be a rare
piece of womanhood ; suppose we have her to
sup with us V The prince cried out, "shame
shame !" but the extravagance of the propo
sal pleased him ; and on the favorite renewing
his entreaties ho consented. The Englishwo
man being confined in the Bastile, a blank hi
ire de cachet was procured and filled up with
an order to the governor to deliver to the care
of the bearer, Lady Guilfort, for the purpose
of her being transferred to the prison at Pigner
ol. The governor of the Bastile delivered up
his prisoner; but shortly after having done so,
he came to the knowledge of the trick that
bad been played upon bim, and in the first mo
ment of alarm and anger he talked of com
plaining to the king ; but on the name of the
Duke of Orleans being mentioned, he resolv
ed to hush up the matter, which was done by
means ot a procts verbal certifying the sudden
death and burial, within the precincts of the
Bastile, of the female prisoner in question.
Lady Guilfort, who supposed that her remo
val from the Bastile was only for the purpose
ol being taken to the Conciergerie, preparato
ry to her execution, soon perceived, however,
that the carriage took the direction of one of
the barriers of Paris ; after quitting which,
and at the end of two hour's drive, it stopped.
A kind of equerry came and opened the door,
offered ber his band to descend, and after
passing through a long corridor, and up some
flights of stairs, ushered her into a brilliant
and well-lighted apartment. After the inter
val of a few minutes, three gentlemen entered
the room. Though plainly dressed, it was ev
dent, from their air and manner, that they
were persons of high rank. One of them im
mediately on entering, put an opera glass to
his eye, and examined with haughty curiosity
Lady Guilfort; the two others threw them
selves into arm-chairs. Lady Guilfort, after
the first surprise was over, had no difficulty in
recognizing in the persons before her the
king's brother the Duke of Orletns, the Mar
quis d'Effiat, and the Chevalier de Lorraine.
She quickly conceived the motives which led
to her "being brought into their presence ; and
though, under other circumstances, she would
have willingly joined in the wildest orgies
with the persons in whose eompany she then
found herself, yet the recollection of her dun
geon in the Bastile, and the terrible death im
pending over her, left no thought but that of
making her escape, fehe atlected not to be
aware of the rank of the personages before
her; but, seeming to enter into the spirit of
tho adventure, she exerted all her powers of
fascination, and soon made captive to her se
ductive influence the Chevalier de Lorraine
and the Marquis d'Effiat. But the Duke of
Orleans, never a great admirer of the fair sex,
and who could not vanquish bis horror of the
Englishwoman, tired before long of the scene;
and bethinking himself that the gratification
of bis curiosity might be too dearly purchased
by the risk of the King's displeasure, should
the circumstance reach bis Majesty's ears, aud
having refused to stay for supper, was con
ducted by the Chevalier de Lorraine and the
Marquis d'Effiat to his apartment, for this
scene took place in the palace of Versciilcs,
and in the lodging of the Marquis de Lafare,
the use of which be had given to the Cheva
lier de Lorraine for twenty-four hours.
The two gentlemen, after returning to the
room where lady Guilfort was, sat down with
her to a petit temper. The most exuberant gai
ety, and not the roost refined gallantry, was
the order of the night. At the close of a sup
per which had been prolonged into the small
hours of the morning. Lady Guilfort on a sud
den rose up, and taking up a taper, made her
lowest courtesy, and wished the gentlemen
good night. She then quitted the room.
Soon after the two gentlemen moved off to
their respective chambers, when Lady Guil
fort silently locked the doors of their apart
ments, and hurried back to the supper-room,
where, tying together the table-cloths and nap
kins, she fastened one end of this impromptu
rope to the balcony, and, by means of it, let
herself down into the park, where she lay con
cealed until the gates were opened in the mor
ning. She then slipped out, and hurrying in
to the town of Verseilles, took tbe first vehi
cle that offered, and arrived in Paris before
her two imprisoned admirers were released
from durance, as they dared not, during the
night, make a noise in the palace by calling or
ringing for the servants, to have the doors of
the rooms in which they were locked up forced
open, lest it might lead to the discovery of
their participation in the criminal trick played
off upon the Governor of tbe Bastile, and the
escape of Lady Guilfort.
On arriving at Paris, lady Guilfort hastened
to the Rne Plat d'Etain, where, in an obsenre
and miserable looking house, but admirably
contrived inside for the purpose of conceal
ment, lived one of tbe chief agents of tbe band
of malefactors with whom she was connected.
There, after explaining to ber accomplice- tbe
means by which she had recovered her liberty,
she found a secure asylum. In a little time,
aided by this villain, Lady Guilfort organized
a new troop of bandits, upon whom she could
reckon, offensively and defensively. She, as
chief of tbe association, planned the expedi
tions, appointed to each the part he was to
play, partitioned the booty, and, at times, took
a personal part in the expedition. The indi
vidual in whose honse she had taken refuge,
was" lieutenant of the troop. ' '
As it waa no longer possible to allure vic
tims to the den by means ol Lady Guilfort'"
personal attractions, the efforts of the band
were principally confined to house robberies ;
but murders were avoided, unless where they
became necessary to the safety ot the robbers.
Besides the feeling of hatred arising from
the loss of four of the troop, including the cap
tain, and the diminution of their gains effected
by young Lecoq's interference, Lady Guilfort
nourished a deep desire of personal vengeance
against hfm for having been duped by him,
and resorted to the following stratagem to grat
ify that feeling. Young Lecoq, enriched by
the bounty of the king, and possessed of a lu
crative place, led a regular life, undisturbed by
any fears of Lady Guilfort's vengeance, he
supposing her to be dead, when, one day, a
grave-looking and respectably-dressed man
called upon him, and, alter requiring a prom
ise of secresy with regard to what he should
tell him, asked if he should like to be put in
the way of detecting a set of smugglers, who
carried on an extensive and thriving trade be
tween Belgium and Paris, in Brussels lace and
other prohibited goods. Lecoq, whose ruling
passion was avarice, eagerly accepted the of
fer, and agreed to tbe terms proposed. His
informant was to point out Lecoq as a sure a
gent, to whose house the smugglers might con
sign their bales and cases of contraband mer
chandize. Ten to twelve days after the con
clusion of this bargain, a cart stopped at Le
coq's door, and from it were taken two large
wooden cases, which, according to Lecoq'bor
ders.were placed in a store-room on the ground
floor of bis house. The carter, after in vain
searching his pockets for the keys, said that
he must have left them at the stage where he
bad stopped the night before, but that be
would return thither, and bring them to Lecoq
the next morntng. From some over-acting on
this man's part, and fronfDbserving that these
cases were perforated in seven or eight places
with small holes Lecoq had his suspicions a
wakened. He communicated his doubts to a
friend of his, a courageous and resolute young
fellow; and in the evening, when everything
was very quiet in the house, they both, armed
with pistols, descended with noiseless steps
the stairs, and took their posts near the door
of the store-room, which had been left pur
posely unclosed.
They had been for a considerable time on
the watch ; and Lecoq's Iriend, getting impa
tient, was about abandoning bis post, when an
indistinct noise from that part of the store
room where the cases were placed, struck their
ears. They redoubled their attention the
noise increased; and they were soon afterwards
able to ascertain that it came from the cases.
Lecon squeezed the band of his friend the
signal was understood they both cocked their
pistols. "John,", said a voice in the lowest
possible whisper, "are you there ? We ap
pear to be alone in the house. Let us breathe
a little air, for I am stifled in this cursed box.
We can lie down again when the people of the
bouse come back." "Do you think they have
any suspicion I" "Not the least ; with all bis
cunning, Lecoq is blinded by bis avarice ; tbe
English woman judged him rightly, and to
night,at twelve, she may satisfy ber vengeance
in the heart's blood of tbe infamous mouchard
(police spy.") "Fire 1" cried Lecoq, at the
same time discharging his pistol in the direc
tion of the cases ; his friend did the same;
and the explosion was followed by a double
cry of agony the balls had taken effect- Le
coq ran into an adjoining room, where he had
placed a lighted lamp in a cupboard,and bring
ing it with him into the store-room, be and his
friend saw the robbers stretched at the bottom
of the cases, one dead, and the other having his
thigh broken. The toise of the fire-arms bro't
several of tbe neighbors to the bouse and soon
after the patrol arrived. This circumstance
greatly annoyed Lecoq : as the public rumor
of the discovery of the two robbers would, if
it reached the ears of the rest of tbe band,
prevent them Irom keeping their engagement
for midnight,and thus frustrate) is intention of
seenring them all. lie However, endeavored
to repair as much as possible the evil, by en
joining silence on those who entered tne nouse.
He also informed the lieutenant-general of po
lice, wbo sent him a company of soldiers, dis
guised, and who came to tbe house only one
by one, where they were conveniently posted
for the reception of the robbers.
It bad scarcely struck midnight when the
noise of several feet was heard approaching,
and soon after they stopped opposite the door of
tbe house,whilst, at the same time, five knocks
were given upon one of tbe windows of the
store-room ; the door after a moment's delay,
was cautiously half opened, and four men suc
cessively entered, followed by another figure
in female attire. The door was then slammed
to violently, a whistle was blown, and instant
ly numerous torches and tapers were brought
from the adjoining rooms,which lighted up the
ball, and exhibited to the stupefied banditti the
musketa of thirty soldiers leveled at them. In
despair they dropped their arms, and were
seized, bound, and carried off to prison. Be
fore their departure, Lecoq went up to the fe
male figure, and putting a lamp to her face,
beheld features totally unknown to bim. The
woman was not Lady Guilfort. Lecoq's disap
pointment and astonishment were extreme.
The next day, however, he received a note,
which in some measure cleared up the myste
cy. This notc,wbicb exists in the archives of
the police, waa brought to bim by a porter,
who 8a id it bad been given to him by a lady
in a thick veil. Tbe contents were as follows :
"Tremble ! One of us must perish Yes
terday I was near your house, when the im
patience ot my two agents rendered abortive
my plan ; but wishing to revenge myself on
the new captain of our troop, and tbe unwor
thy rival be has preferred to me, I did not
warn him ot the fate of our advanced guard,
but allowed him to proceed on the expedition,
knowing that be would thereby become your
and the police's prey. I have succeeded, and
they (Will now expiate the scorn tbey treated
me with. Yon may judge from this if my
vengeance knows how to reach those that in
cur it. It is your turn next, young fanfaron,
who imagine that you are secure from my
blows, . by having made yourself a mouchard,
when at best you are good lor nothing else
than to be ....
Peuchet adds, in a note, "after this letter,
the conclusion of which is expressed in too
energetic terms to be repeated to ears polite,
the report breaks off abruptly, several pages
having been torn out ol the register. We are,
therefore, ignorant of the denouement of Lady
Guilford's history ; but from what we have
seen of it, it is abundantly clear that this was
not the last of her adventures."
' Michael Stover captured a straw-colored rac
coon, near Aaronsburg, Centre co., recently.
A SWEET FASHIOJr.
There are many strange vagaries of fashion
and that of our European friends over the wat
er, for skunk lurs, is one of the most recent
a most eccentric. A sudden sknnk fur fancy
has pervaded the bosoms" of French and
German belles, and they now take to .their
hearts and wrap around their shoulders arti
cles ol peltry which, a few years ago, a Yan
kee ploughboy would not touch with a ten
nay, not with a twenty foot pole. The follow
ing extract from tbe New York Journal of
Commerce explains in detail our remarks : ;
"Tbe traffic in skunk skins has suddenly be
come a most important branch of tbe fur trade,
and the skins of an animal which, three year
ago, were deemed of no value whatever, are
now in the greatest demand. They are collect
ed for exportation alone. Tbe principal mar
kets are Russia and Turkey, though some are
sent to Germany, where they are sold at largo
profit, as the fur of the genuine "fisher." The
black skins are valued tbe most, and during
the past winter the market price has been a
high as $1 per skin, while mottled skins
brought only 70 cents. These prices, howev
er, have recently depreciated considerably, on
account of the immense exportation. Up
wards of 50,000 of these skins have been ship
ped from this city alone within the .past two
months, and one firm in Maiden Lane have
now on band about 18,000, ready for shipment.
These are designed for tho Lcipaic sales
Leipslc being, next to Novogorod, in Russia,
the most important fur entrepot in Europe.
The first intimation received in this market of
the valne of this new description of fur, came
from the Hudson's Bay Company, which, hav
ing shipped a few to London at a venture,
found the returns so profitable,tbat they imme
diately prosecuted the business on an extensive
scale, and now so large has been tbe exporta
tion, that a glut in the market is anticipated."
Perhaps, after a year or so, these skunk
skins will be re-imported, under some fancy
foreign price. Then Madam Blank will return .
fromParis in a complete set, say of skunquetto
furs ; and there will be a rage for the article, "
and tbe creatures will perhaps be extermina
ted. Every thing is ordained for wise ends
pei haps the fashion is intended to put an end
to a most noisome animal. There Is a droll
Jack Downing and Sam Slick saying of "let '
every man skin hia own skunks," meaning "
that he who has a disagreeable duty to perform '
need not attempt to shirk it off on others. ;
Just now the proverb is void of significance ; "
be who bas the most skunks to skin being de- '
cidedly the best off of the party.
Animal and Vegetable Life. There is "
nothing short of revelation that more beauti
fully or satisfactorily proves the existence of
an Almighty mind than the fewness and sim
plicity of tbe ultimate elements of animal and'
vegetable life. Thus, there are but four ehs
mentary principles essentially necessary, and
but six generally employed, to lorm every va
riety of organic life: nitrogen, carbon, oxy
gen, and hydrogen are the 'bases, to which sul
phur and phosphorus may be considered sup
plementary. With these, infinitely varied in
their atomic proportions, are built up not on
ly the whole animal kingdom," but also every
variety of the vegetable world from' wheat,
tbe "staff of life," to the poison of the deadly
Upas tree. It is also worthy of remark that
these four elemental principles are those also
of which both air and water are composed, so
that air and water may be considered in trnth
and fact as being the original elements of or
ganic life. Dr. Toulmin.
A Max Comisg to Lire at His Own Fcnsh.
At. In Orange, N. J., week before last, a
man named John Knox, while engaged in
painting ot the third story of a bouse, fell to
the ground, and was taken up for dead. Ha
was conveyed to his residence, iaid ont, and
bis afflicted relatives and friends'fn due time
proceeded to make the usual arrangements for
the funeral, which was appointed for Sunday.
Shortly before the hour appointed on that day,
tbe body exhibited signs of returning anima
tion, and in a few moments afterward, to the
astonishment of all, the young man in tho
coffin, who was of course believed to be dead,
was able to converse with his friends ! It i m
singular case, and the man's escape from be
ing buried alive was truly miraculous. Tho"
physicians, however pronounce his present'
condition as extremely critical, and it is doubt
ed whether he may survive the injuries sus
tained by the fall.
Renovation of thi Peach Tbee. The edi
tor of the New England Farmer says that a
gentleman residing in Cambridge Iniorma binr
that charcoal placed around tbe roots Tf the
deceased peach stock was valuable. He Im
mediately removed the soil from around tbe
trunk of a sickly tree in the garden, supplied
its place with charcoal, and was surprised at
its sudden renovation and subsequent rapidi
ty of its growth, and the tenacity with'1 w'hich
the fruit held on the branches and the Unusu
al richness of its flavor when matured.'
The New York French Courier des Etats U
nis says that a new expedition for the conquest
of Cuba is now on foot. . It also asserts that
part of the expedition bas already sailed, and
that within a few days the whole affair will be
made public. The plan, as sketched by tbe
Courier is, to land on some remote point on
the Cuban coast, where they are to maintain
tnemseives until a general rising in tbe Island
shall summon them to march upon Havana.
A correspondent of the New York Courier
says when the Controller of that city negotia
ted with the Rothschilds concerning the Cro
ton Loan they wrote bim that'thy could not
imagine what use for 'an' aqtt'educt of forty
miles in length there "wis for New York, aci
ty surrounded by frtsh vftiter !
Shocking. It is stated that a young lady on
Boston Common," dressed in the extreme of
fashion, was mistakntf by some boys for a cir
cus tent, and tbey ' actually crawled some dis
tance under the canvass before they discovered
their mistake. . ,
Tbe members of St, John's T.nth.rn ohnroh
Lancaster, Pa., "surprised? their paster, Ret.
D. Steck, on tbe 31st March, by presenting
him a purse containing $100 in gold. -
Hail stones, measuring 10 to 12 inches in
circumference, fell at Natchez, Mlssisstppi.oa
the 24th March. One waa found which mea
sured tvetnty-tveo by sixteen inches ! . ;
Thirty citizens of Tamaqua, Pa., bat left
that plaee for Pike's Peak.
r;
i
i -
A
t i
4i
r'-
V
i
!