The Hay Standard and Advertiser for Balranald, Wentworth, Maude...(Hay, NSW : 1871 - 1873; 1880 - 1881; 1890 - 1900) Wed 21 Nov 1894 Page 6
SHORT STORY
A CHAMBER OF HORRORS.
BY RALPH DERECHEF.
In despite of the science, if science it be, of physiognomy, it is unfortunately a fact that by no means every scoundrel has his rascality written on his face. Numerous have been the criminals whose features gave no indication that they were capable of committing the monstrosities for which they have none the less been brought to book. It is equally
true, however, that there appears from time to time in the prisoner's dock a sinister, forbidding figure, stamped as it were with the hall mark of crime, that the audience feel instinctively is in its proper place. The spectators are certain from the outset, as they look upon this unmistakable jail bird, that they are about to witness the crowning event in a career that was predestined to end in the condemned cell.
Such a creature as this appeared on the 29th of July, 1880, before a jury of the Seine to answer for his life the capital charge. The aspect of the wretch whom it would be a misnomer to call a man, was revolting in the extreme. His small cruel, wolf-like eyes were set in a misshapen head, that was covered with a rank growth of coal coloured hair ; a low fitting collar and jacket allowed the observation to be made that this hair had grown in an unnatural way down the neck on to the very shoulders. On the other hand, the beard was sparse, ragged, and uncouth. His sallow, earthy complexion was a hideous mass of blotches. Though only twenty years of age, vice had furrowed his face with wrinkles, and he stooped as if he had been an old man. He was miserably clad in a threadbare coat of a material that had once been grey, and in snuff coloured trousers, stained and patched, and in tatters at the extremities. Everything about him spoke to the fact that the lowest depth of human degradation was reached in his repulsive person. His appearance excited a horror that no feeling of compassion for the awful position in which he was placed could mitigate. A loathing he was far from not having merited was the only sentiment this miserable being could arouse, and for him the most eloquent advocate would plead in vain for one spark of sympathy from the most indulgent jury.
Louis Menesclou was the name of this living embodiment of all that a man should not be. His right to be gibbeted among the vilest criminals of the century was won by a deed that in its incredible infamy is in some respects unique. Among those murderers whose crimes were so far alike that they all sought to get rid of their victims by cutting their remains in pieces, among the Billoirs, the Barres, the Libies, and the Prevosts, to take our examples from France alone, Menesclou, by virtue of his cold-blooded ferocity, has a certain abominable preeminence A statement of the facts of the case will abundantly justify this conclusion. Grenelle is a suburb of Paris, inhabited almost exclusively by the working classes, and by soldiers, of whom an immense number are congregrated in enormous barracks. In a house in the Rue de Grenelle tenanted from attic to cellar by a swarm of different families, Menesclou lived with his parents.They were honest hard-working folk in fair circumstances, for they were in a position to allow the good for-nothing son with whom they were cursed the privilege, uncommon enough in the locality, of a sleeping-room
to himself. They were scurvily rewarded for their kindness. As Louis grew up, it was only to develop from a graceless rogue into a ruffian of the deepest dye. lt was no unusual occurrence for him set upon and beat his mother while he showed his gratitude to his father by repeatedly stealing his savings. At the age of sixteen this promising scoundrel was compelled, much against his will to join the Navy. He remained in the service three years, and left it with a record that was in every respect worthy of him, having no leas than 166 days of confinement to the cells to his credit.
This brilliant opening of his carreer accomplished, he returned to Grenelle, not to work but to be a burden to his long-suffering family and a nuisance to the neighborhood. His reputation was soon as bad as it could be. He cultivated every conceivable form of villainy, till even among the scum and riff raff of the district, his habitual associates, his name was a byword. Had he kept entirely to his delectable company, he might have died in the gutter, and escaped the scaffold, but unluckily he contracted an acquaintanceship so little in his habitudes that from the first it was the occasion of considerable remark. In the human warren of which he occupied a corner, on the floor below that on which his room was placed, lived a most respectable family of the name of Deu. There apartment, of minute proportions, housed a father, a mother, and seven children, of whom the youngest, Louise, was a little girl only four and a half years old. Louise, owing to her winning ways, and her prettiness, which was a constant source of pride to her parents, was a general favorite. Of the crowd of children who made the staircase of the house and the street before it their playground, she was continually being singled out for special attention. Still the surprise was universal when it was observed that Louis Menesclou, who was supposed to be shut to decent feeling of any kind, showed a disposition to behave with the utmost friendliness towards Louise. People noted with astonishment that he was fond of keeping her company, and was in the habit of putting himrelf to some pains to amuse her and win her good will. He even went to the length of making her small presents, an extraordinary action on the part of a selfish brute who had never been known to spend the few pence he acquired by more or less disreputable means on anyone but himself. He would give the child cheap toys-- it is true that according to common report he had stolen them ? sweets, or now and again a sou.
Naturally enough Louise had no objection to allow herself to be petted. Her mother, however, saw this strange connection ripen with no favor, and did all in her power to discourage it. She mistrusted Mencsclou. She knew enough of his character to believe him capable of any and every abomination. He was not a person to credit with good intention, and Madame Deu declared subsequently that she never saw him in the company of her child without a shudder. The statement may seem an exaggeration but it is remarkable how it was borne out, and indirectly verified by her conduct when the crisis came.Louise Deu was seen alive for the last time on 15th of April 1880. Indeed it must be said that in the usual acceptance of the word this was the last occasion on which she was ever seen at all, for when remains were discovered they were scarcely recognisable, as we shall shortly have to relate. The disappearance of the child remained unnoticed until the evening of the day in question, when her mother began to grow uneasy at her continued absence from home. The only result of inquiries among the neighbours was to elicit the fact that Louise had been seen at play in the course of the aftemoon, but her companions could give no precise information as to the moment at which they had missed her, nor could the least hint be obtained of her actual whereabouts. The mother's anxiety grew to fever pitch as the time dipped by without bringing any news of the lost girl. Renewed investigation failed to procure the least scrap of evidence bearing upon the mystery. But a presentiment she was unable to shake off had slowly taken shape in the mind of Madame Deu. Without a jot of proof, for no assignable reason, a suspicion that waxed before long into a certainty, had crept into the mother's heart that with Louis Menesclou rested the secret of her daughter's fate.
Possessed with this idea, for which no one but herself could see the smallest justification, and which she would have been at a loss to explain in words, she mounted to the attic which was Menesclou's private apartment and knocked at the door. He lost no time in opening to her. Nothing in his manner betrayed that anything out of the ordinary had occurred. He merely expressed a not unnatural surprise at the sight of his visitor. In reply to a question whether he had seen Louise he answered simply that he had not. There was nothing more to be said, and Madame Deu, baffled but unconvinced had to accept his statement and retire. Half an hour later Menesclou left his room. On his way down stairs he looked in upon Madame Deu, and inquired if her daughter had been found. Nothing had been heard of her, as he of all persons in the world was best aware. His pretended interest in her child did not suffice, as it was doubtless intended to do, to quiet the suspicions of Madame Deu, who went up again to his room, the moment she knew he was out of the house, and tried the door. It was looked. Without any reasonable excuse for having it forced open, she was compelled once more to await the development of events in an agony of mind that it is not difficult to imagine. Menesclou returned home at half-past seven, and was careful to ask whether anything had happened during his absence. He then announced that he was tired, and proposed to go to bed at once, in spite of the earliness of the hour. That he had faithfully carried out this programme was verified shortly afterwards.
>>>