Mrs Peixada. Harland Henry

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СКАЧАТЬ It lay where he had left it, on his desk. Beginning by listlessly turning the pages, he gradually became interested in their contents. I shall have to beg the reader’s attention to an abstract of Mrs. Peix-ada’s trial, before my story can be completed; and I may as well do so now.

      The prosecution set out logically by establishing the fact of death. A surgeon testified to all that was essential in this regard. The second witness was one ’Patrick Martin. I copy his testimony word for word from the columns of the New York Daily Gazette.

      “Mr. Martin,” began the district-attorney, “what is your business?”

      “I am a merchant, sir.”

      “And the commodities in which you deal are?

      “Ales, wines, and liquors, your honor.

      “At retail or wholesale?”

      “Both, sir; but mostly retail.”

      “Where is your store situated, Mr. Martin?”

      “On the southwest corner of Eighty-fifth Street and Ninth Avenue.”

      “Was the residence of the deceased, Mr. Bernard Peixada, near to your place of business?”

      “It was, sir—on the next block.”

      “What block? How is the block bounded?”

      “The block, sir, is bounded by Eighty-fifth and Eighty-sixth Streets, and Ninth and Tenth Avenues, your honor.”

      “Many houses on that block?

      “None, your honor; only the house of the deceased. That stands on the top of a hill, back from the street, with big grounds around it.”

      “Had Mr. Peixada lived there long?

      “Since the 1st of May, this year.”

      “Now, Mr. Martin, do you remember the night of July 30th?”

      “Faith, I do, sir; and I’ll not soon forget it.”

      “Good. Will you, then, as clearly and as fully as you can, tell the court and jury all the circumstances that combine to fix the night of July 30th in your memory? Take your time, speak up loudly, and look straight at the twelfth juryman.”

      “Well, sir, on that night, toward two o’clock the next morning—”

      (Laughter among the auditors; speedily repressed by the court attendants.)

      “Don’t be disconcerted, Mr. Martin. On the morning of July 31st?”

      “The same, sir. On that morning, at about two o’clock, I was outside in the street, putting the shutters over the windows of my store. While I was doing it, your honor, it seemed to me that I heard a noise—very weak and far away—like as if some one—a woman, or it might be a child—was crying out. I stopped for a moment, sir, and listened. Sure enough, I heard a voice—so faint you’d never have known it from the wind, except by sharpening your ears—I heard a voice, coming down the hill from the Jew’s house over the way. I couldn’t make out no words, but it was that thin and screechy that, ’Certain,’ says I to myself, ’that old felley there is up to some mischief, or my name’s not Patsy Martin.’ Well, after I had got done with the shutters, I went into the house by the family entrance, and says I to my wife, ’There’s a woman yelling in the house on the hill,’ says I. ’What of that?’ says she. ’Maybe I’d better go up,’ says I. ’You’d better be after coming to bed and minding your business,’ says she. ’It’s most likely a way them heathen have of amusing themselves,’ says she. But, ’No,’ says I. ’Some one’s in distress,’ says I; ’and I guess the best thing I can do will be to light a lantern and go along up,’ says I. So my wife, your honor, she lights the lantern for me, and, ’Damminus take ’em,’ says she, to wish me good luck; and off I started, across the street, through the gate, and up the wagon-road that leads to Peixada’s house. Meanwhile, your honor, the screaming had stopped. Never a whisper more did I hear; and thinks I to myself, ’It was only my imagination,’ thinks I—when whist! All of a sudden, not two feet away from me, there in the road, a voice calls out ’Help, help.’ The devil take me, I thought I’d jump out of my skin for fright, it came so unexpected. But I raised my lantern all the same, and cast a look around; and there before me on the ground, I seen an object which, as true as gospel, I took to be a ghost until I recognized it for Mrs. Peixada—the lady that’s sitting behind you, sir—the Jew’s wife, herself. There she lay, kneeling in front of me and when she seen who I was, ’Help, for God’s sake, help,’ says she, for all the world like a Christian. I knew right away that something wrong had happened, from her scared face and big, staring eyes; and besides, her bare feet and the white rag she wore in the place of a decent dress—”

      At this point considerable sensation was created among the audience by the prosecuting attorney, who, interrupting the witness and addressing the court, remarked, “Your honor will observe that the prisoner has covered her face with a veil. This is a piece of theatricalism against which I must emphatically protest. It is, moreover, the jury’s prerogative to watch the prisoner’s physiognomy, as the story of her crime is told.”

      Recorder Hewitt ordered the prisoner to remove her veil.

      “Go on, Mr. Martin,” said the prosecutor to the witness.

      “Well, sir, as I was saying, there I seen Mrs. Peix-ada, half crouching and half sitting there in the road. And when I got over the start she gave me, ’Excuse me, ma’am,’ says I, ’but didn’t I hear you hollering out for help?’ ’Faith, you did,’ says she. ’Well, here I am, ma’am,’ says I; ’and now, will you be kind enough to inform me what’s the trouble?’ says I. ’The trouble?’ says she. ’The trouble is that there’s two men kilt up at the house, that’s what’s the trouble,’ says she. ’Kilt?’ says I. ’Yes, shot,’ says she. ’And who shot them?’ says I. ’Myself,’ says she. ’Mother o’ God!’ says I. ’Well,’ says she, ’wont you be after going up to the house and trying to help the poor wretches?’ says she. ’I don’t know but I will,’ says I. And on up the road to the house I went. The front door, your honor, was open wide, and the gas blazing at full head within. I ran up the steps and through the vestibil, and there in the hall I seen that what Mrs. Peixada had said was the truest word she ever spoke in her life. Old Peixada, he lay there on one side, as dead as sour beer, with blood all around him; and on the other side lay Mr. Bolen—whom I knew well, for he was a good customer of my own, your honor—more dead than the Jew, if one might say so. I, sir, I just remained long enough to cross myself and whisper, ’God have mercy on them and then off I went to call an officer. On the way down the hill, I passed Mrs. Peixada again; and this time she was laying out stiff in the road, with her eyes closed and her mouth open, like she was in a fit. She had nothing on but that white gown I spoke of before; and very elegant she looked, your honor, flat there, like a corpse.”

      Again the district-attorney stopped the witness.

      “Your honor,” he said, “I must again direct your attention to the irregular conduct of the prisoner. She has now turned her back to the jury, and covered her face with her hands. This is merely a method of evading the injunction which your honor saw fit to impose upon her with respect to her veil. I must insist upon her displaying her full face to the jury.”

      Mr. Sondheim, of counsel for the defendant: “If the Court please, it strikes me that my learned brother is really СКАЧАТЬ