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59 pages

English

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When a young man from an affluent upper-class family is charged and convicted of a petty theft, everyone is shocked by the seemingly senseless crime. But when his association with a notorious femme fatale, Lady Amelie Lisle, comes to light, the case becomes even more confounding.

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Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 mai 2015
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781776588459
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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THE COQUETTE'S VICTIM
* * *
CHARLOTTE M. BRAME

*
The Coquette's Victim Epub ISBN 978-1-77658-845-9 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77658-846-6 © 2014 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
*
Chapter I - The Trial Chapter II - The Sentence Chapter III - The Papers Again Chapter IV - Ulverston Priory Chapter V - Lady Carruthers Chapter VI - Youth Full of Beauty and Promise Chapter VII - A Modern Bayard Chapter VIII - Lady Amelie at Home Chapter IX - Weaving the Spell Chapter X - Deeper and Deeper Still Chapter XI - How the Plot Succeeded Chapter XII - Caught in the Snare Chapter XIII - Ladie Amelie's Story Chapter XIV - The Trap Closed Chapter XV - The Denouement
Chapter I - The Trial
*
Mr. Kent was a very able magistrate. He had sat on the bench for manyyears and was considered a man of great legal attainments and skill. Hevery seldom erred in his judgment, and being gifted with a naturalshrewdness, he saw the difference at once between a guilty and aninnocent man.
He rarely erred; long practice had made him an adept in reading faces.
But on this morning, the fourteenth of May, he was puzzled. Many caseshad been brought before him. Drunken men dismissed with a fine and areprimand, thieves sentenced to weeks or months of imprisonment, wiveswith pale faces and bruised arms had given reluctant evidence againsthusbands who had promised to love and cherish them until death.
It was a bright May morning, and the sun did his best to pour throughthe dusky windows of the police court; a faint beam fell on the stolidfaces of the policemen and ushers of the court, the witnesses and thelookers-on; a faint beam that yet, perhaps, brought many messages ofbright promise to those present.
A little boy had been sent on an errand with sixpence and had stolen themoney; with many sobs and tears he confessed that he had spent it incakes. Mr. Kent looked at the tear-stained face; the untidy brown headscarcely reached to the table, and the good magistrate thought, withsomething like pain at his heart, of a fair-haired boy at home. So hespoke kindly to the poor, trembling prisoner, and while he stronglyreprimanded, still encouraged him to better ways. The boy was removed,and then Mr. Kent was puzzled by the prisoner who took his place.
A tall, handsome young man, apparently not more than twenty, with aclear-cut aristocratic face, and luminous dark gray eyes. A face that noone could look into without admiration—that irresistibly attracted man,woman and child. He was a gentleman—there could be no mistake about it.That clear-cut Norman face had descended to him from a long line ofancestors; the well-built, manly figure, with its peculiar easy graceand dignity told of ancient lineage and noble birth.
His hands were white, slender and strong, with almond-shapednails—hands that had never been soiled with labor, and surely neverstained with crime.
He carried his handsome head high; it was proudly set on a firm,graceful neck, and covered with clusters of dark hair. He would havelooked in his place near the throne of a queen, or, on the back of a warhorse, leading a forlorn hope; but no one could understand his beingprisoner in a dock. Mr. Kent looked at him, wondering with what he wascharged. Surely, with that noble face and gentlemanly bearing, he hadnever been guilty of a common assault. Magistrate as he was, Mr. Kentlistened to the recital of the charge, with some curiosity.
Jules St. Croix, Count of the French Empire, charged the prisoner at thebar with having broken into his rooms for the purpose of robbery. He hadbeen discovered in the count's drawing-room, where he had forced open anivory casket and stolen the contents, which were an ancient and valuablegold watch and a gold ring, also of considerable value. At the momentthat the count, followed by his servant, entered the room, the prisonerhad these articles in his hand. He dropped them immediately, but thecount, hastily calling for the police, gave him in charge.
There was a smell of burned paper in the room and it was nearly elevenat night.
The magistrate asked if the prisoner had made any resistance. PolicemanC. No. 14, answered, "No, he gave in at once; and came straight away."
Mr. Kent asked again: "Was there anything in the casket beside thejewelry?"
It seemed to be a very insignificant question, but the prisoner and thecount looked steadfastly at each other and both answered: "No."
There were two witnesses. Robert Bolton, the count's servant, and C. No.14, the policeman. The evidence of the servant was taken first. He saidthat the prisoner had called several times to see his master, alwayscoming when the count was from home; that he had, before, made one ortwo efforts to get into the count's room, but that he, the servant, hadalways refused him permission.
On this evening the count went out early, and Robert Bolton having someerrands to do, followed his master. About ten o'clock the prisonercalled at the house, No. 24 Cambridge Terrace, and asked to speak toCount St. Croix. The landlady of the house told him the count was fromhome; then the prisoner said:
"I know. I will go to his room and wait there for him."
The landlady, believing him to be a perfect gentleman, allowed him togo up to the count's room. Robert Bolton returned home just as hismaster was at the door; when the landlady told him a gentleman waswaiting there, it flashed instantly into his mind there was somethingwrong. He hastily told his suspicions to the count and they ran upstairstogether. Opening the door quickly, they found the prisoner with thecasket in one hand and the watch in the other. There was an odor ofburnt paper in the room.
The count immediately opened the window and called for the police. C.No. 14 was just passing, and in marvelously quick time he ran upstairs.
"This man has gotten into my room on false pretences," said the count."He is a stranger to me. I give him in charge for breaking open mycasket and stealing a watch and ring from it."
"What did the prisoner say."
"He pointed to the watch and ring, and said: 'There they are;' then helooked at the count with a smile."
"Did he seem frightened?"
"Not the least in the world," was the answer; "just the contrary."
"What happened next?"
"The prisoner told him he must consider himself a prisoner on the chargeof stealing a watch. He laughed aloud and walked away."
The landlady of the house, the policeman and the count all gave the sameevidence. It seemed very clear against him.
"What have you to say?" asked, the magistrate of the prisoner.
He raised his luminous gray eyes.
"Not one word," he replied, in a clear, refined voice.
"What is your name? I see you have refused to give any."
For the first time the prisoner's face flushed crimson, and the countsmiled malignantly.
"My name is—John Smith," he replied, and again the count smiled.
"Your address?"
He gave some number and street which every one knew to be false.
"Your occupation?" asked the magistrate again.
"I have none—that is, no settled occupation," he replied.
"Have you no lawyer to defend you?" asked Mr. Kent.
"I require none," said the prisoner; "I have no defense. All that CountJules St. Croix says is true; he found me in his room with the opencasket in my hand."
"You had gone there for the purpose of robbery?"
"I have not a word to answer."
"You can surely give some account of your presence there?"
The prisoner smiled again.
"I refuse to do so," he replied, with great firmness, yet courtesy ofmanner.
"Then I must commit you for trial," said the magistrate. "Have you nowitnesses to bring forward in your own defense now, as to character—noreferees?" he continued.
"None," was the quiet reply.
"I am sorry," said Mr. Kent; "to see one who is so evidently agentleman and a man of education in such a position."
But there was no shame in the handsome face; none in the proud eyes. Heraised his head with haughty grace and made no reply.
"I can take bail," said Mr. Kent, but the prisoner said, "I have none tooffer."
Then was the good magistrate puzzled. He had no resource but to committhe young man to take his trial at the Sessions. Yet looking at theclear, aristocratic face, and the firm, proud lips, he could have swornthat the prisoner was perfectly innocent of the theft.
He read pride, honesty, loyalty and chivalry in the face, yet there wasnothing left for him to do but to commit him.
He looked very grave as he did so, and then John Smith was taken away bythe policeman. As he left the dock he turned to his accuser, the CountSt. Croix, who stood there with a dark frown on his face; he looked athim for one moment, then waved his hand, as one who had won a greatvictory.
"I have conquered," he said, and the count's sallow face grew pale withrage,
"Curse you," he said, between his teeth, "I should like to stand with myfoot on your neck."
Chapter II - The Sentence
*
John Smith—for the prisoner was known by no other name—lay in prisonuntil the time for his trial. He had not long to wait, but he made nocomplaint. He seemed perfectly at his ease—much more so than was Mr.Kent. In vain the good magistrate said to himself that it was nobusiness of his; that he had nothing whatever to do with the case, hehad simply performed his duty—done what was required of him. Yet hecould not feel satisfied; he was sure there was a mystery, and he longedto fathom it.
He resolved to go and see the young man, and