found her waiting for him, pale andanxious-eyed, when he arrived. "I have been to Frankfurt am Main," hesaid, "and I have seen Mr. Pernburg--"
"Yes, yes, that is the name; now I remember," interrupted the girleagerly. "That is the name of John's friend there."
"I have seen Mr. Pernburg and he gave me this letter." Muller laid athick envelope on the girl's lap.
She looked down at it, her eyes widening as if she had seen a ghost."That--that is John's writing," she exclaimed in a hoarse whisper."Where did it come from?"
"Pernburg gave it to me. The day before his death John Siders sent himthis letter, requesting that Pernburg forward it to you before a certaindate. When I explained the circumstances to Mr. Pernburg, he gave me theletter at once. I feel that this paper holds the clue to the mystery.Will you open it?"
With trembling hands the girl tore open the envelope. It enclosed stillanother sealed envelope, without an address. But there was a sheet ofpaper around this letter, on which was written the following:
My beloved Eleonore:
Before you read what I have to say to you here I want you to promiseme, in memory of our love and by your hope of future salvation, that youwill do what I ask you to do.
I ask you to give the enclosed letter, although it is addressed to you,to the Judge who will preside in the trial against Graumann. The letteris written to you and will be given back to you. For you, the beloved ofmy soul, you are the only human being with whom I can still communicate,to whom I can still express my wishes. But you must not give the letterto the Judge until you have assured yourself that the prosecutingattorney insists upon Graumann's guilt. In case he is acquitted, which Ido not think probable, then open this letter in the presence of Graumannhimself and one or two witnesses. For I wish Graumann, who is innocent,to be able to prove his innocence.
You will know by this time that I have determined to end my life by myown hand. Forgive me, beloved. I cannot live on without you--withoutthe honour of which I was robbed so unjustly.
God bless you.
One who will love you even beyond the grave, Remember your promise. Itwas given to the dead.
JOHN.
"Oh, what does it all mean?" asked Eleonora, dropping the letter in herlap.
"It is as I thought," replied Muller. "John Siders took his own life,but made every arrangement to have suspicion fall upon Graumann."
"But why? oh, why?"
"It was a terrible revenge. But perhaps--perhaps it was justretribution. Graumaun would not understand that Siders could have beensuspected of, and imprisoned for, a theft he had not committed. He mustknow now that it is quite possible for a man to be in danger of sentenceof death even, for a crime of which he is innocent."
"Oh, my God! It is terrible." The girl's head fell across her foldedarms on the table. Deep shuddering sobs shook her frame.
Muller waited quietly until the first shock had passed. Finally her sobsdied away and she raised her head again. "What am I to do?" she asked.
"You must open this letter to-morrow in the presence of the PoliceCommissioner and Graumaun."
"But this promise? This promise that he asks of me--that I should waituntil the trial?"
"You have not given this promise. Would you take it upon yourself toendanger your guardian's life still more? Every further day spent in hisprison, in this anxiety, might be fatal."
"But this promise? The promise demanded of me by the man to whom I hadgiven my love? Is it not my duty to keep it?"
Muller rose from his chair. His slight figure seemed to grow taller,and the gentleness in his voice gave way to a commanding tone of firmdecision.
"Our duty is to the living, not to the dead. The dead have no right todrag down others after them. Believe me, Miss Roemer, the purposethat was in your betrothed's mind when he ended his own life, has beenfulfilled. Albert Graumann knows now what are the feelings of a manwho bears the prison stigma unjustly. He will never again judge hisfellow-men as harshly as he has done until now. His soul has beenpurged in these terrible days; have you the right to endanger his lifeneedlessly?"
"Oh, I do not know! I do not know what to do."
"I have no choice," said Muller firmly. "It is my duty to make knownthe fact to the Police Commissioner that there is such a letter inexistence. The Police Commissioner will then have to follow his duty indemanding the letter from you. Mr. Pernburg, Sider's friend, saw thisargument at once. Although he also had a letter from the dead man,asking him to send the enclosure to you, registered, on a certain date,he knew that it was his duty to give all the papers to the authorities.Would it not be better for you to give them up of your own free will?"Muller took a step nearer the girl and whispered: "And would it not bea noble revenge on your part? You would be indeed returning good forevil."
Eleonora clasped her hands and her lips moved as if in silent prayer.Then she rose slowly and held out the letters to Muller. "Do what youwill with them," she said. "My strength is at an end."
The next day, in the presence of Commissioner Lange and of the accusedAlbert Graumann, Muller opened the letter which he had received fromMiss Roemer and read it aloud. The girl herself, by her own request, wasnot present. Both Muller and Graumann understood that the strain of thismessage from the dead would be too much for her to bear. This was theletter:
G-------- September 21st.
My beloved:
When you put this letter in the hands of the Judge, I will have found indeath the peace that I could never find on earth. There was no chanceof happiness for me since I have realised that I love you, that you loveme, and that I must give you up if I am to remain what I have alwaysbeen--in spite of everything--a man of honour.
Albert Graumann would keep his word, this I know. Wherever you mightfollow me as my wife, there his will would have been before us, blastingmy reputation, blackening the flame which you were to bear.
I could not have endured it. My soul was sick of all this secrecy, sickat the injustice of mankind. In spite of worldly success, my life wascold and barren in the strange land to which I had fled. My home calledto me and I came back to it.
I kissed the earth of my own country, and I wept at my mother's grave. Iwas happy again under the skies which had domed above my childhood. ForI am an honest man, beloved, and I always have been.
One day I sat at table beside the man--the Judge who condemned me, herein G-------- in those terrible days. He naturally did not know me again.I, myself, brought the conversation around to a professional subject.I asked him if it were not possible that circumstantial evidence couldlie; if the entire past, the reputation of the accused would not be afactor in his favour. The Judge denied it. It was his opinion, beyond adoubt, that circumstantial evidence was sufficient to convict anyone.
My soul rose within me. This infallibility, this legal arrogance,aroused my blood. "That man should have a lesson!" I said to myself.
But I had forgotten it all--all my anger, all my hatred and bitterness,when I met you. I dare not trust myself to think of you too much, nowthat everything is arranged for the one last step. It takes all mycontrol to keep my decision unwavering while I sit here and tell you howmuch your love, your great tenderness, your sweet trust in me, meant tome.
Let me talk rather of Albert Graumann. I will forgive him for believingin my guilt, but I cannot forgive him that he, the man of cultivationand mental grasp, could not believe it possible for a convicted thiefto have repented and to have lived an honest life after the atonement ofhis crime. I still cannot believe that this was Graumann's opinion. Iam forced to think that it was an excuse only on his part, an excuse tokeep us apart, an excuse to keep you for himself.
You are lost to me now. There is nothing more in life for me. If theinjustice of mankind has stained my honour beyond repair, has robbed meof every chance of happiness at any time and in any place, then I dieeasily, beloved, for there is little charm in such a life as would bemine after this.
But I do not wish to die quite in vain. There are two men who havetouch
ed my life, who need the lesson my death can teach them. These menare Albert Graumann and the prosecuting attorney Gustav Schmidt, the manwho once condemned me so cruelly. His present position would makehim the representative of the state in a murder trial, and I know hisopinions too well not to foresee that he would declare Graumann guiltybecause of the circumstantial evidence which will be against him. Myletter, given to the Presiding Judge after the Attorney has made hisspeech, will cause him humiliation, will ruin his brilliant argumentsand cast ridicule upon him.
Do not think me hard or revengeful. I do not hate anyone now that deathis so near. But is it inhuman that I should want to teach these two mena lesson? a lesson which they need, believe me, and it is such a slightcompensation for the torture these last eight years have been to me!
And now I will explain in detail all