"Mrs." on the "Peabody sheet," rendered it obvious
that they were all written by one and the same hand. Therefore it was
clear that the defendant was familiar with the contents of the practice
sheets (Fig. 8.), even if she had not written them herself and had not
told the truth in this regard.
Moreover, it was fairly easy to see that the same hand that had written
the words "I am upstairs in the bath-room" upon the second practice
sheet had at the same time and with the same pen written the rest of the
sheet. This was clearly perceptible on examining the "e's" and "a's."
A comparison of the address "Mr. Geo. B. Lang" (on Fig. 1) with the
name Mrs. James D. Singley (on Fig. 4) also shows clearly that one and
the same person wrote them both. And to the accuracy of all these
self-evident propositions a leading handwriting expert in New York
added his unqualified opinion.
Thus, but for a little carelessness in failing to destroy odd scraps of
paper and to disguise her penmanship which it seemed to her quite
unnecessary to do, as in the address of the "Lang" envelope, Mrs.
Parker might well have gone free after all.
It is impossible to describe all the varied dramatic features of this
interesting case. No one who was present is likely to forget the
impression made by the defendant at her second trial, when in defiance
of overwhelming proof she still struggled to vindicate herself.
Her counsel contended throughout the trial that she was a hitherto
innocent young woman led astray and started upon a criminal career by
a rascally husband, whom she still loved devotedly and for whose sake
she had prepared to confess herself a criminal. That James Parker
introduced his wife to a life of crime there can be no doubt, but that she
had a natural predilection for it must be equally obvious. It is probably
true that Mabel Parker's affection for her convict husband was
unfeigned and deep. The natural repugnance of the American jury for
convicting a woman was shown when in spite of the overwhelming
proof upon the Parker woman's second trial the jury remained out eight
hours and then found her guilty of "uttering only," with a strong
recommendation for mercy. She was sentenced to the Bedford
Reformatory.
[Illustration: Fig. 8--One of the loose sheets upon which Mabel Parker
illustrated her methods and her skill as a penman to the supposed
ex-convict "Hickey."]
II
Five Hundred Million Dollars
This story, which ends in New York, begins in the Department of the
Gironde at the town of Monségur, seventy-five kilometers from
Bordeaux, in the little vineyard of Monsieur Emile
Lapierre--"landowner." In 1901 Lapierre was a happy and contented
man, making a good living out of his modest farm. To-day he is--well,
if you understand the language of the Gironde, he will tell you with a
shrug of his broad shoulders that he might have been a Monte Cristo
had not le bon Dieu willed it otherwise. For did he not almost have five
hundred million dollars--two and a half milliards of francs--in his very
hands? Hein? But he did! Does M'sieu' have doubts? Nevertheless it is
all true. C'est trop vrai! Is M'sieu' tired? And would he care to hear the
story? There is a comfortable chair sous le grand arbre in front of the
veranda, and Madame will give M'sieu' a glass of wine from the presses,
across the road. Yes, it is good wine, but there is little profit in it, when
one thinks in milliards.
The landowner lights his pipe and seats himself cross-legged against
the trunk of the big chestnut. Back of the house the vineyard slopes
away toward the distant woods in straight, green, trellised alleys. A dim
haze hangs over the landscape sleeping so quietly in the midsummer
afternoon. Down the road comes heavily, creaking and swaying, a wain
loaded with a huge tower of empty casks and drawn by two oxen, their
heads swinging to the dust. Yes, it is hard to comprendre twenty-five
hundred million francs.
It was this way. Madame Lapierre was a Tessier of Bordeaux--an
ancient bourgeois family, and very proud indeed of being bourgeois.
You can see her passing and repassing the window if you watch
carefully the kitchen, where she is superintending dinner. The Tessiers
have always lived in Bordeaux and they are connected by marriage
with everybody--from the blacksmith up to the Mayor's notary. Once a
Tessier was Mayor himself. Years and years ago Madame's great-uncle
Jean had emigrated to America, and from time to time vague rumors of
the wealth he had achieved in the new country reached the ears of his
relatives--but no direct word ever came.
Then one hot day--like this--appeared M.
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