THE END OF THE PROFESSOR'S HOLIDAY.
The doctor, the Burgomaster and the Captain had driven to Laibach to
require personally the instant liberation of Franz Schorn, whose
innocence no one longer doubted. The doctor had promised to inform me
by letter of the result of his efforts, and he kept his word. On the
second day I received a long letter from him. There had been a
tremendous commotion in Laibach when the District Judge of Luttach,
manacled like a common criminal, had been received at the prison. The
ultra Slavonic newspapers had hitherto triumphed in the announcement
that the only German agitator in Luttach was nothing more or less than
a miserable, ordinary criminal, and now they suffered a terrible blow
in that the German agitator was no murderer; the criminal was a man
who, although of Italian descent, had always laboured in the Slavonic
cause. The Slav party, on the other hand, were half-inclined to swear
to the innocence of the Judge and to stake all on the guilt of the
hated German. But the doctor took good care that every scrap of
evidence against the true murderer should be well known; he was himself
a zealous Slav, but so conscientious and honest a man, and so well
known as prizing justice far above national prejudice, that he forced
the newspapers of his party, by his truthful declarations, to advocate
the cause of Franz Schorn, which they reluctantly did, although not
very enthusiastically. They, as well as the doctor, found consolation,
however, in the fact that District Judge Foligno was no true Slav, but
in fact an Italian. Of course all national prejudices were powerless to
influence the court at Laibach. The doctor wrote with real enthusiasm
in regard to his reception by the investigating Judge, who had frankly
informed him that suspicion of the District Judge had arisen in his
mind while he was investigating the matter in Luttach, suspicion which
was now substantiated by the admirable report of the Clerk, and that
the evidence had created conviction. A most disagreeable task lay
before him in having to investigate the actions of his superior in
office, but he would unflinchingly follow his duty. The Attorney
General, who had hitherto been firmly convinced of Schorn's guilt,
could not but admit the evidence of his innocence and the proof of the
Judge's criminality, and the honourable liberation of Schorn from
imprisonment must take place immediately. It depended only upon certain
formalities. If the Judge could be brought to confess, Schorn's freedom
would be on the instant.
This hope, however, of bringing the criminal to an open confession was
not destined to be fulfilled. He maintained his innocence with brazen
effrontery until his hearing before the court, asserting that he was
the victim of shameful intrigue. All the evidence which I, the German
Professor, had brought against him was founded, he declared, partly on
lies, partly on prejudice. It was not true that I had found his
bloodstained handkerchief in the neighbourhood of the Lonely House, for
the handkerchief found in the drawer he had never lost. The blood on
his handkerchief, his waistcoat, and his trousers came from the wound
in his hand due to a fall among the rocks on the morning of the day of
the murder, and of which he had innocently informed the Professor. He
declared that I had found him changing his dress when I came to inform
him of the discovery of the murdered man in the Lonely House. He had
locked up the bloody clothing in the upper drawer of the chest in his
sleeping apartment in my presence, and, of course, I knew where it was.
How the money and banknotes came in the drawer he did not know, but he
suspected that during his absence I had placed them there myself, or
had bribed Frau Franzka to put them into the chest in order that the
farce might be played of the removal of the chest to my room and the
discovery of the bloody articles, which would clear Franz Schorn of the
guilt of the murder and throw it upon himself, the District Judge. He
would not venture to assert that I was Schorn's accomplice in the
crime, although it was possible, but I was certainly his accomplice in
the theft of the money. Either to be rid of this accomplice, or to
ensure his silence by saving his life, Schorn had cut the rope in the
cave.
When the investigating Judge pointed out to him the improbability, nay
the evident falsehood of this clumsy invention, the prisoner stoutly
maintained its truth, and even asserted that I had come to Luttach, on
the pretense of pursuing natural history researches in Ukraine, in the
interest of the German clique there, and to this end I had entered into
close relations with Schorn, having as their result this scheme to ruin
him. The Judge displayed an eloquence and keenness of intellect in
proving the truth of his statements which the investigating Judge could
not but admire; but, upon perceiving that he failed entirely in making
any impression upon the impartial official, who was himself a Slav, he
lost courage, and, declaring that he was too exhausted to endure
further questioning, begged to be again conducted to prison.
An hour later the investigating Judge was informed that the prisoner
had committed suicide in his cell. How he had contrived to procure the
knife with which he stabbed himself to the heart could not be
discovered. The bitter opponents of the government and of the court in
Laibach maintained that it had been conveyed to him for the purpose of
suicide, in order that the court might be relieved from the necessity
of presenting before a jury a Slavonic patriot and fellow-countryman as
a murderer.
"Since the Judge's suicide may be regarded as a confession," the
doctor wrote, "we are momentarily awaiting the liberation of our Franz.
We--the good Burgomaster, the Captain and myself--are burning with
eagerness to conduct the liberated man in triumph to Luttach. I will
tell you by telegram when we may be expected."
The lovely little Anna was paying me a visit when I received the
doctor's letter. We read it together. Tears of joy filled her eyes as
we came to the end.
"I would rather," she said, "have Franz come back quietly, without any
public demonstration; but the good doctor is right; there ought to be
some atonement for the unjust disgrace of his arrest, and this must be
made by an honourable reception."
All the men of the round table in the "Golden Vine" were of the same
opinion.
In the evening, more carried than supported by Mizka and Frau Franzka,
I ventured to leave my room and to take my place once more at the round
table. I was received with extravagant delight. When I read aloud to
the company there assembled the letter from the doctor, they declared
unanimously that all Luttach must combine in making brilliant amends to
Franz. It was remarkable how one single day had changed the mood of
every one. Mosic, Weber, Meyer, Gunther, and Dietrich, hitherto the
most violent opponents of "the German," were now the most zealous to
obliterate all remembrance of their opposition. They could not praise
Franz sufficiently, and gravely maintained that they never had believed
in his guilt.
The telegram arrived on the morning of the next day, announcing that
our friends would arrive in Luttach towards noon. I sent it to the
Vice-Burgomaster, who had begged me to give him the earliest
intelligence, that he might spread it through the town.
The time for festal preparation was short, but it was used diligently
in bringing loads of oaken boughs from the grove on the Rusina, in
making wreaths and garlands wherewith Schorn's house and the "Golden
Vine" were decorated, for Franz was to be conducted first to the
"Golden Vine," where in the garden a cask of the best wine was to be
broached, and the Vice-Burgomaster was to welcome him in the name of
his Luttach fellow-citizens and to express the joy that all felt in his
return, as they drank to his health and welfare. And thus it verily
happened. All Luttach was astir by ten o'clock. There were crowds on
the road to Adelsberg and on the square before the court house and
in the street before the "Golden Vine." When the carriages--two of
them--at last came in sight, Franz was sitting in the first with the
Burgomaster, while in the second the doctor drove with the Captain.
They were greeted with deafening applause and the crowd rushed towards
them, all striving to be the first to extend a welcome to Franz Schorn.
It was impossible for the carriage to proceed through the crowded
streets, when suddenly a stentorian voice exclaimed:
"Make way!"
It was the voice of the gigantic Rassak. He dextrously unharnessed the
horses, and, seizing the pole himself, assisted by two savage-looking
fellows--the very ones who, a couple of days before, would have been
willing to kill the "murderer" and the "German dog"--on they went to
the "Golden Vine." A dozen men helped to pull and push the vehicle,
while Franz kept bowing and smiling in grateful acknowledgment of the
shouts of welcome. The carriage stopped before the gateway of the
hotel. Franz would have descended, but strong arms lifted him to
Rassak's shoulders, and thus he was carried into the garden. The
doctor, the Burgomaster and the Captain followed, laughing. The festal
programme was carried out in the garden, except that the Burgomaster's
speech and one cask of wine did not suffice. Speech followed speech,
and I should have had a fine opportunity of admiring the Slavonic
eloquence, if I could have understood a word of it all, but,
unfortunately, the words were all Slavonic, even those in which Franz
thanked the assembly for its sympathetic welcome. I could only guess at
what he said from the shouts of applause. It was a stormy occasion and,
after a fashion, a brilliant one, but it was not exactly a comfortable
festival. This we had in the evening at the house of the doctor. My
presence there, pretty little Anna declared, was quite indispensable,
and so Rassak carried me thither on his burly shoulders. I could not
possibly have walked. The doctor had invited only the Burgomaster, the
Captain, the Clerk and myself to share in the joy of this first evening
of the reunion of the betrothed pair and to be the witnesses of their
happiness.
I certainly never passed a more delightful evening. It was a positive
delight to me, old man that I am. It warmed my heart to behold the
handsome couple so full of bright anticipations for the future. The
merriment in our small circle was not loud; we were all somewhat under
the influence of the very recent events, but we all quietly rejoiced in
being delivered from our depressing anxiety. The doctor himself
proposed the health of the young couple, and in a short speech
congratulated us all upon the happy chance which had terminated the
fearful episode. I noticed that as he spoke the beautiful young girl
shook her head as if in disapproval. The toast was drunk with
enthusiasm, and Anna joined in it; but, turning to the doctor and
looking at him very gravely, she said:
"It was no chance that saved my Franz. It was God's own doing. In order
to hide his first crime, the Judge attempted a second; he cut through
the rope in the cave and, as a result, Franz saved the Professor's
life. If Franz had not thus ventured his own life, he would have been
lost. The truth would never have come to light. If the Judge had not
cut the rope, the Herr Professor would not have sprained his foot, and
he would not have been forced thereby to keep his room, nor would Frau
Franzka have tried to procure him space for his collection. Was this
chance! No; it was an answer to my prayer. God ordained that Franz
should risk his life to find his life."
"There is logic in your words, child," the doctor said with a smile;
"it is the logic of pious, grateful faith, of which I would in nowise
deprive you. But you need not frown, little girl, if I speak of a
chance which we must all bless. Chance or Providence, the words express
the same idea, that of strangely combined circumstances leading to a
certain end. Was it chance or Providence that brought our dear Herr
Professor to Luttach to catch butterflies, and that the Captain sent
him on the very first day up to St. Nikolas, whence he returned,
thirsty, to the Lonely House? Keep your pious belief, child; it will be
a source of hope and happiness for you while life lasts."
* * * * *
Two weeks after this delightful evening, I left Luttach to return to my
northern home. I should have liked to have stayed longer in the
charming little town, with people who had grown so dear to me, but my
holidays were at an end, and the summer heat is so enervating at my
age, that I did not dare to stay longer. I took leave of my dear ones
there, but I have promised to return next spring, for I would not have
the marriage of the happy couple celebrated without me.
THE END.